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ppomumgranatum · 13 days

Text

when time runs out, what comes after?

Available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC; Ominis Gaunt x Anne Sallow

tags: one shot, you POV, post-Hogwarts life

word count: 6.9k

Warnings: 🔞 angst as fuck, use of profanities, smut, 18+ explicit sexual content, adult characters, mild fingering, grief sex?

Summary: Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.

Notes: I was watching FB and somehow Queenie and Jacob reminded me of Ominis and Anne. Then it led me into thinking about what life could've been for our MC and it got me feeling sappy as fuck like???? Tbh idk what this is? but enjoy it, anyway.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the quaint hamlet of Feldcroft, the autumn breeze enveloped the village in a serene embrace. The sky was painted with hues of orange, pink, and purple as if nature itself was bidding farewell to the day in a grand display of colours.

Over the years after the quaint little village was free from the gruesome terror enacted by goblins and dark wizards, Feldcroft has beautifully regained its liveliness.

In the centre of it all, a lively marketplace had sprung up, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns and fairy lights. Stallholders peddled their wares– handcrafted jewellery, knitted scarves, jars of homemade preserves– their voices mingling with the laughter and chatter of the crowd.

The place that Sebastian once called home now truly feels like home.

His childhood house is now occupied by Ominis and his sister Anne. His best friend had promised that when they graduated, he would stay with Anne and take care of her with whatever time she had left. That was three years ago, and they’ve been living together ever since. Meanwhile, you and Sebastian found purpose living in the city. Your careers are thriving and you found solace in each other's company, living in a little space you happily share.

After your triumph over Ranrok, you had managed to gradually learn how to wield your ancient magic to its potential. Although you’ve not truly mastered how to completely cure diseases or curses yet, you found a way to somehow ease it. And that’s what you’ve been doing for Anne. Your effort managed to give more years to her life, hoping one day you would eventually master your magic to cure her.

You and Sebastian would regularly visit Feldcroft to do your mending routine on Anne, and this weekend was one of the occasions.

The breeze enveloping the hamlet felt like a gentle caress as it danced through the narrow path you were sharing with Sebastian. You were returning home after a quick grocery trip to the marketplace, accompanied by your boyfriend, who gallantly carried the grocery bag with one arm while the other was wrapped around you.

When you entered the house, Ominis and Anne were seated at the dining table, already eagerly awaited for your arrival. Your brows furrowed at the sudden lively greeting from the couple, “What’s going on?”

“There’s something we’d like to share.” The grin on Anne’s face was suspicious yet delightful.

“Come, have a seat.” Ominis’ tone was rushing the both of you to do as he said.

You and Sebastian quickly exchanged glances, feeling just a tad worried at what the other two had in mind, before finally doing what Ominis had asked.

After Sebastian put aside the grocery bag on the table, Anne quickly grasped his brother’s hand with that grin that has yet to dissipate, “You guys are freaking me out. What’s going on?” Sebastian said.

“Okay, Ominis and I were talking and we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now..” Anne began slowly, “We have decided that..”

“We want to get married..” Ominis quickly picked up on Anne’s sentence, tone filled with excitement.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, equally excited, “That's wonderful news.”

“..Tomorrow.” Anne completed the sentence that was apparently unfinished.

“What?” The tone of Sebastian’s voice dropped, “What do you mean tomorrow?”

“As in the day after today, Sebastian.” She clarified like Sebastian was a Flobberworm.

“Yes, I know what tomorrow means.” He was ticked off by the treatment, “But what– how– why so soon?”

“Why not?” Anne sounded disappointed that Sebastian wasn’t as excited.

“Are you pregnant?” Sebastian bluntly and inconsiderately shot his chance.

“What?!”

“Sebastian!”

“No, I am not!”

Sebastian's face winced at the overlapping aggravation that came out of everyone, “What? It’s a valid question.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” The timbre in Anne’s voice made you feel bad for her.

“Of course, I think it’s a fantastic idea to get married.” He was quick to reassure her, trying not to sound lacking in spirit, "But don't you want more time to prepare for something like this?"

Anne sighed softly, her disappointment evident as she exchanged a glance with Ominis, who seemed equally deflated by Sebastian's response, "It's just.. we've been together for quite some time now." Anne began, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And we don't want to wait any longer than we have to."

“And it’s not like we got a selection of family to invite.” Ominis added, “You guys are our family.”

Sebastian’s turned to you like he was looking for an extra pillar of certainty. And his expression softened with understanding dawning in his eyes when he was met with your supportive smile.

“I’m sorry,” He tightened his grip on his sister’s hands, “I didn’t mean to dampen your excitement. If this is what you both want, then I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

You nodded in agreement, "We're here for you, whatever you need. And if tomorrow is the day you want to have a wedding, then we'll make sure it's perfect."

Anne's face brightened at your words, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion.

“I can’t believe tomorrow you’re going to be Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt.” You're basically kicking and giggling at the thought of your two best friends finally sharing their names.

“Sallow.” Ominis corrected, “It’s going to be Mr. and Mrs. Sallow.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear, “That sounds even better.”

Everyone seemed to be filled with joy at the decision. But you understood where Sebastian’s suspicion stemmed from. If they were so worried about waiting, why not three years ago? And if there wasn't any particular urgency, why does it have to be tomorrow?

While everyone was exchanging joyous hoots and gazes, your eyes met with Anne’s and you almost didn’t notice that tiny twinge of gloom behind the yawning grin on her face. But it was there, ever so subtle. The sight gave you a small discomfort but you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

So you pushed the thought aside and were ready to get on with the dinner you promised everyone you’d prepare. There’s no room for anything but delight when a celebration awaits everyone tomorrow.

Since the wedding practically only had an invitation for two, naturally, you became the maid of honour. Today your service and dedication were solely in the courtesy of Anne Sallow to make sure that you had everything perfectly prepared for her.

As the bride settled into the chair in front of the vanity, you stood behind her, ready to assist with her makeover. With gentle hands, you brushed through the thinned and fragile strands of her hair, feeling the delicate strands beneath your touch. Taking Anne's fragile hair into account, you opted for a gentle half-up, half-down that would be both elegant and comfortable. Soft tendrils framed her face, lending a touch of romance to the look without adding any unnecessary strain.

Once it was arranged to perfection you moved onto her makeup, selecting colours that would enhance her natural beauty without overpowering her delicate features. You couldn't help but notice the prominence of her cheekbones like a stark reminder of the weight loss she had endured. Her complexion, though still beautiful, lacked the healthy flush of vitality it once held.

While you were intently putting your best work into Anne, both of you shared jokes and stories to accompany the duty. She had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel effortless and joyful. Her laughter was infectious, and her ability to find humour in any situation never failed to lift my spirits. Despite everything she had endured, Anne's eyes still sparkled with a glimmer of mischief and resilience.

As you shared laughter and fond memories, Anne suddenly clutched her abdomen, her face contorted in pain. Your heart skipped a beat as you realised the source of her distress—it was the curse. With a surge of panic, you hurried to grab your wand and kneeled beside the chair where she was sitting. Anne attempted to contain the pain at first, her efforts were evident in the furrow of her brow and the tight grip of her hands on her abdomen. But soon, the intensity became too much to bear, and despite her best efforts, a soft yet pained groan escaped her lips.

You had one hand holding hers, allowing her to clutch into yours while your other hand began to work your wand, channelling your ancient magic to help her ease the pain. Your heart clenched at the sound of her agony and your hands trembled with fear.

“Hang in there, Anne..” Your voice provided soothing comfort. You could tell the magic was slowly doing its work as the grip on your hand loosened and Anne regained control of her breathing, “I’m here..”

You stayed by her side, hand never leaving hers like a silent comfort as the magic continued to work its healing touch. After Anne's strength gradually returned, she managed to open her eyes and gave you a knowing smile, “I’m alright now.. Thank you.”

You put down your wand so both of your hands can grasp into hers. Worry still settled over you. It was only yesterday since you did your mending on Anne. The effect would usually last her a month– or two even when she was doing so well. But for it to not even last twenty-four hours meant the curse was only getting stronger, and your magic was becoming futile.

“How long?” You began to ask. Your voice was soft but still laced with anguish.

Anne let out a heavy sigh before answering, “Almost six months now..” Her breathing was still a little bit unsteady, "I’ve noticed the effects have been getting shorter and shorter.”

“Oh, Anne.. why didn’t you tell me.” Your heart ached even more knowing she must have endured it on her own.

“I didn’t know how to.” She admitted.

As a deep sense of despair washed over you, you couldn't help but grasp the gravity of the circumstances. Meeting her gaze, you glimpsed a reflection of your own emotions mirrored in her eyes. While kneeling beside her, you took a moment to observe the woman before you, her faint smile betraying the anguish she must have been enduring.

How awful it must’ve been to pretend everything was fine while she was crumbling inside.

“Does Ominis know?”

She nodded, “Not long ago.” Anne didn’t have to say it, but now you understand the underlying reason for the impulse on the wedding, "I tried to hide it for a while, but that man knows me too well not to find out something was wrong."

"How are you feeling?" You gently asked like a fragile little petal that she was. There were layers of concern in your voice.

She hesitated for a moment like she was contemplating whether to share the truth, "Not so good." disappointment coloured both her expression and tone, “I knew it couldn’t cure me. But I truly thought it would still last me forever, you know.”

“I know..” Your thumb caressing the back of her hand, "I thought so, too."

She let out a heavy sigh, "Well, it was good while it lasted."

“Have you told Sebastian?"

"Not yet. Not today," she said, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to get married to the man that I love and pretend, at least for this day, that I am not withering."

You felt a surge of empathy for Anne. Despite her hardships, there was a quiet determination in her voice. She just wished to find joy amidst the challenges she faced.

"You don't have to pretend with us."

"I know that." She smiled softly, "But it makes me feel a little bit better. Just for today."

She lifted her trembling hand to gently stroke your hair. And when her eyes met yours, the sorrow that reigned over her eyes pierced through you, shattering your heart into a million pieces.

"You have no idea how grateful I am that Sebastian's questionable behaviour ended up being the thing that brought you two together.” You chuckled at her remarks, and the twitch in your eyes finally allowed the tears that had been so desperate to fall to cascade down your cheeks, "And I'm grateful to have found a sister in you."

At that moment, neither of you could hold back the tears any longer. The floodgates of emotion burst open, releasing a torrent of tears that had been held back. Amidst the overwhelming grief, there was also a profound sense of gratitude for the strength you had found in the brief but powerful bond you shared with her.

"You can fight this." You choked out, "Please.. Just a little bit more, Anne. I'm getting better with my magic. I think I'm almost there."

"No.." She shook her head, "I don't think I can wait anymore."

You nestled your head on her lap, finding solace in her gentle touch as she continued to stroke your hair. It felt as though she was the one offering comfort.

“Promise me.” She said softly, “That you’ll watch over them when I’m not around. Merlin knows what those boys will do without supervision.”

And once more, amidst the tears and sobs, a faint chuckle escaped from both of you. It was a moment of bittersweet release.

And when you lifted your head, you met Anne's gaze with a solemn nod, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of her request. "I promise," You vowed, "I won't go anywhere. But you have to know, Anne.. I could never replace you."

“You already have.” She reached out to wipe the tears that streamed down your cheeks, “When I'm gone, they’ll have no one but you in this world. You are their family– my family. You have to understand that you mean the world to all of us.”

You took a heavy, deep breath, trying to stifle the uncontrollable sobs threatening to consume you. But it was no use– each inhale and exhale only trembled more with emotion. The thought of Sebastian and Ominis losing Anne, the person they loved, filled you with crushing despair. You couldn't bear the idea of witnessing their pain, knowing that you held the power within you to help her, if only you knew how.

Everything felt agonisingly close yet impossibly out of reach, leaving you feeling utterly helpless in the face of Anne's impending fate.

You don't want to lose her.

"I wish we had more time."

“You gave us more time when we thought there was none left. You gave me a chance to live, to love Ominis, and Sebastian..." Her voice trembled from the emotion, "You have no idea how much joy you've brought back into his life. And you've given me the gift of witnessing that happiness.” She managed to put up a smile and you wished she didn’t. Pretending was no longer necessary, and you wanted her to feel free to express her true emotions, “You have given me a lifetime. And for that, I owe you everything.”

You reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close while trying to imprint every moment of this precious connection into your memory. This could be one of the few last hugs you'd be able to share with her, and you wanted to cherish every second of it.

"Alright, that's enough tears for now," she said gently, pulling away and wiping your tears. "You've got to save it for when I'm actually dead."

“Anne!” You protested at the inappropriate joke. Although you’ve got to admit there was a mix of amusement inside of you at her attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry.” A faint smile playing on her lips.

The both of you shared a final chuckle before you set to work on redoing Anne's makeup, realising that almost everything was ruined from the intense sobbing. But you didn't mind– in fact, you welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with her, cherishing every moment you had left together.

After you finished, you picked up your wand and cast a spell on Anne's clothing. In an instant, she was adorned in a stunning white dress, radiating an ethereal beauty that took your breath away.

You took a moment to cast the same spell on your own clothes, transforming them into attire more suitable for the event. You left Anne to rest inside and headed outside to begin setting up for the ceremony this evening.

Working your wand with precision, you crafted a beautiful yet intimate setting in the confines of their backyard. Despite the limited space, you conjured an enchanting atmosphere, transforming the modest surroundings into a magical haven fit for a wedding. The flowers bloomed in colourful bursts, intertwining with lush greenery to create a picturesque backdrop for the ceremony.

Despite the simplicity of the setup, every detail was carefully curated to evoke a sense of intimacy and romance, ensuring that Anne's special day would be nothing short of unforgettable.

While you were immersed in the enchanting setup, you were surprised by the sudden embrace that came behind you, “Hello, beautiful.” Unable to resist the exposed skin from your updo hair, he planted tender kisses along your neck. Sebastian is always such a tease.

With a soft smile, you leaned into his embrace, “I’m doing something here.” you teased, but still couldn't help but enjoy the affectionate gesture.

Sebastian chuckled then nuzzled his head into your neck. His warm breath sent shivers up and down your spine, "Anything I can help with?" he whispered in your ear. You could feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Just as you finished with your setup, you leaned back against his strong frame, feeling completely secure in his arms. "You can be here with me, holding me."

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, taking in the intimate moment and the romantic decor. The scene before you stirred thoughts of your own future wedding, prompting a gentle curiosity about when that moment might come.

"How's Anne doing?" Sebastian's voice broke the silence, drawing your attention.

You turned to face him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you loop your arm around his neck, drawing him closer. "Very happy," You replied softly, "She's ready."

“Ominis is, too.” There was a mix of joy and relief in his face,“I’m so glad they finally get to have their happy ending.”

His words hit you hard. Sebastian remained unaware of the true extent of Anne’s condition. Because the happy ending he thought she’s having isn’t as perfect as it seemed.

“Are you alright?” He noticed the change in your expression.

You nodded, masking the trouble brewing inside.

“Are you sure?” He persisted. His voice sounded more concerned this time.

You wanted to confide in him, but it didn't feel right. Anne deserved to share the news with her brother herself. "I just think it's a beautiful day for a wedding," you lied.

Sebastian smiled, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your lips, his affectionate gesture momentarily distracting you from the weight of the secret you carried.

As the ceremony finally commenced, you and Sebastian stood side by side, bathed in the glow of the evening sun. The gentle breeze carried the soft rustle of leaves and the sweet scent of wildflowers, adding to the serene ambience of the outdoor setting. In the distance, the rolling hills provided a breathtaking backdrop for the intimate gathering.

Anne, radiant in her flowing white dress, walked down the aisle with grace, her eyes sparkling with love and anticipation. Ominis stood at the altar, his expression a mixture of nerves and excitement as he awaited his bride.

The sound of their vows filled the air, heartfelt and sincere, weaving a tapestry of promises and dreams for the future.

It was time for them to exchange rings. And finally, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the world seemed to stand still, capturing the beauty and magic of this momentous occasion. You and Sebastian watched with pride and happiness, your hearts overflowing with love for the newlyweds.

But the joyous atmosphere shattered in an instant as Anne fell to the ground, her agonising scream piercing the air. Shock and fear gripped everyone present as they rushed to her side. The curse had struck once again.

The pain seemed to be worse than before because Anne's consciousness began to fade. Ominis lifted and carried her inside while his face etched with fear and worry. You and Sebastian followed closely as Ominis gently laid his bride on the bed.

You quickly tended to her side and began using your magic to ease her pain once again while Ominis sat beside you, holding Anne’s hand tightly in his own.

Sebastian stood by, watching his sister fighting her pain, feeling utterly helpless. Her screams tore at his heart, shredding it into pieces.

He finally began to realise the true situation of Anne’s condition.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, he stormed out of the house, his breath ragged from the onslaught of negative emotions. He wandered aimlessly, searching for a space where he could calm himself down and gather his thoughts.

After tending to Anne's needs and ensuring she had something to eat to regain her strength, you realised that Sebastian had been conspicuously absent. Concerned, you stepped outside and immediately knew where to find him. Following the familiar path atop the hill that overlooked the hamlet, you remembered how Sebastian always loved this spot for its breathtaking view of the village below.

Upon reaching the hilltop, you were greeted by the sight of your lover, standing at the edge and gazing out over the village. The fading light of the setting sun casted a warm glow over the landscape.

Sebastian's shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared into the distance. You approached him quietly, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your shoes barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

You stood just a little bit behind him, giving him the space he needed to collect his thoughts. Despite the distance, you could feel the stress emanating from him.

"You knew, didn't you?" He finally said, breaking the silence. You expected something sharp and judgemental coming out of him, but there was none of it. His stare remained fixed in the distance.

You nodded even though he couldn't see it, "Just today."

"Did she tell you how long ago?"

You hesitated for a moment, "Six months."

Sebastian scoffed and his expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with a hint of anger. "Six fucking months," he muttered, "Why didn't she tell us sooner?"

You felt a pang of guilt at his tone, knowing that Anne's decision to keep her condition a secret had hurt him deeply, "I think she was trying to protect us."

He shook his head and his jaw clenched tightly. "Protect us?" he repeated, voice rising with emotion. "From what exactly? From the tremendous amount of pain we’re already living with every single day? We're her family, for Merlin’s sake, we should have been there for her."

You knew that Anne's silence had shaken him to the core, and the road ahead would be filled with challenges as they grappled with the consequences of her decision.

"I should’ve been there for her." The quiver of regret was evident this time, “How many times have we gone to visit her in the past six months? And not once did she mention anything. She pretended like she was alright.”

“That’s exactly why, Sebastian.” You replied gently, "She didn’t want to keep pretending. She just wanted to cherish the time she had left without constantly dwelling on her illness. By allowing her to live her life the way she wants to, we were already there for her."

“But she’s my sister.” His voice cracked with emotions.

“I know..” You murmured, feeling the weight of his pain.

Then, a single tear escaped from the corner of his eyes that was clearly betraying the emotions he struggled to contain. He instinctively turned his head, his hand moving swiftly to brush away the tear.

You wanted to give him space to be in his own vulnerability, so you stood in place.

“To think of the fact that she decided to endure it on her own..” There was so much guilt in his voice. Then he fell quiet for a moment before continuing, “It's funny, isn't it? How time seems to slip through our fingers, no matter how tightly we try to hold on."

You listened in silence, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a heavy blanket. The realisation that time was finite– that eventually, it would run out.

"We spend our days chasing after hope, trying to cure Anne," Sebastian continued, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the truth is, time waits for no one. Even for those who possess magic, it marches on, indifferent to our hopes and desires."

It was the first time you’d seen Sebastian being this vulnerable. It only showed how much love he carried for his sister.

"And when it's gone," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "all we're left with are the memories of what could have been– what I could’ve done for Anne.” His tone carried a sense of despair and it unsettled you deeply. It felt as though the fierce determination of a man who would move mountains to save his sister had been extinguished.

"I just wish I had done more for her," He admitted.

“Hey,” Closing the distance, you gently lifted his chin, urging him to meet your gaze with compassion while his eyes were shimmering with tears, "You've been there for her in more ways than you realise. And she knows that.” His tears flowed more freely at your comforting words. Without hesitation, you cupped his cheeks and brushed away the tears, “She’s made her choice, Sebastian. The most important thing now is to cherish the time we have left with her and make every moment count. Because you can’t go back in time, it only runs out."

As harsh as reality was, Sebastian knew you were telling him what he needed to hear. Because if you don’t make the most of your time, the only thing that will remain is regret.

“I can’t promise you that it will be easy," you continued. "But I can promise you that I'll be here every step of the way."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if seeking refuge in your warmth. Taking your hand, he pressed a tender kiss to your palm before meeting your gaze, "I don't know what I'd do without you." He whispered,

"You won't have to find out." You replied with a reassuring smile.

Sebastian's eyes held yours, filled with gratitude and a hint of vulnerability. In that shared moment, you both understood the depth of your connection and the support you offered each other.

Then he pulled you into a tight embrace and you yielded to his warmth, feeling the comforting strength of his arms around you. Resting your head against his chest, you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reassuring cadence amidst the uncertainty that surrounded you.

He fell quiet for a moment. Stroking your hair with one hand while the other rubs your back with comfort.

“Thank you.” He finally said.

“What for?”

“Everything.” He whispered as he reflected on how different things could have been for Anne, and how her current happiness was beyond anything he had dared to hope for. “If you asked me five years ago what life would be like for Anne today, I’d say she’d be long gone and buried deep in the ground. I never thought I’d see her get married. This is all happening because of you.”

“You know I would do anything for Anne.” You replied softly.

He pulled away to meet your gaze, “And I would do anything for you.”

There was something special about the way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were captivated by yours. The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness in his touch made you feel cherished in that moment.

It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of intimacy. Everything else ceased to exist as you were enveloped by his presence, captivated by the depth of his gaze and the warmth of his embrace.

Sebastian drew nearer, his eyes locking onto yours with intensity. His hand trailed through your hair, tenderly caressing your cheek as he leaned in closer. The sensation of his chest against yours sent your heart into a flurry of anticipation.

It was kind of funny to you, how this man could still make your heart flutter in the most exciting ways ever even after sharing hundreds of kisses.

Right before his lips touched yours, he paused, looking at you intently. The intimacy grew with each passing second as he leaned closer until finally connecting his lips to yours.

Sebastian's touch was sensual, yet tender. There was a delicate balance of passion and tenderness in his kiss. His lips felt warm and inviting, like the gentle warmth of a summer in the middle of the cold autumn breeze.

The kiss deepened and the intensity rose with every passing second. Lost in the kiss, you could feel all the worries and stresses of life wash away– like maybe Anne wasn’t dying, or Ominis wasn’t about to face his worst heartbreak, and Sebastian wasn’t going to lose his sister, and all that was left was the warmth of his touch.

As the weight of everything going on amplified the intensity of your emotions, it also seemed to intensify your desire, heightening every sensation, every touch, every whisper of longing. It was as if the urgency of the moment fueled the fire burning between you and Sebastian.

You didn’t want this to end. You wished you could live in whatever intoxicating illusion this feeling was.

The kiss went on and Sebastian tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his lips and the heat of his body pressed up against you had your mind spinning. Every touch of his lips on yours was more arousing than the last.

The heat was becoming too intense, and you wanted more.

Sebastian continued to explore your body with his hands, grazing his fingers along your curves. He moved his hands upwards towards your chest and your breath hitched at his touch.

Despite the lust that was slowly eating away your rational thinking, deep inside, in the back of your mind, you had a sudden realisation. Sebastian’s griefing and this felt like an unhealthy outlet. The guilt weighed on your mind but the brunette began trying to unzip your dress.

“Sebastian..” You pulled away and whispered breathlessly against his lips, “You’re grieving.”

He shook his head, “I want you..” He put trails of kisses along your jaw and neck, making everything even more irresistible.

You bit your lip. “Not like this.”

“Please..” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t hold the soft moan that escaped your lips.

The sensation of Sebastian's kisses sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot on your skin. You tried your best to resist him, but it was becoming too much to bear. And when his hand slid under your dress and touched your heat, temptation took over you and your body yielded under his touch.

“Fuck.. Sebastian.”

"I know you want me, too," He whispered. Your body betrayed your words as you grew wetter with desire. The sensation of his touch on your clit, using your own fluids as a lubricant, sent waves of pleasure through you. At that moment, you no longer wanted him to stop.

Your body responded instinctively to Sebastian's touch. Your back arched into his hand as pleasure washed over you and your hips rolled around to the movement of his finger. Giving in to the pleasure, your eyelids fluttered shut and your head fell backwards.

As Sebastian kissed your collarbone, your dress slipped off your shoulder, exposing more of your skin and eventually revealing your breasts.

Sebastian groaned softly at the sight before him, unable to resist the temptation of your hardened nipple. With eager anticipation, he lowered his lips to take it into his mouth, his fingers continuing their skilful movements. The combination of his touch and his lips against your skin sent your senses reeling.

Your moans were like music to his ears. With each gasp and whimper that escaped your lips, his craving only intensified, driving him to seek out more ways to please you, “Oh darling, I can’t take it anymore.”

He pulled away, allowing your dress to fall to your feet with a soft rustle of fabric. With gentle yet firm hands, he lifted you, then carefully guided you to lie down on the ground beneath you.

As you lay there, the cool earth beneath you provided a stark contrast to the heat of your desire. You watched Sebastian undress himself, his muscles rippling beneath his skin with every movement. With each article of clothing he shed, your anticipation grew, knowing that soon you would be able to feel his warmth inside of you.

When his thick, hard cock came into view, your hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but Sebastian was quick to grab your wrist and pin it above your head. Leaning in close, his hot breath washed over your skin. While his cock, wet with precum, brushed against your stomach. "So eager now, aren’t we?" he whispered huskily.

“Just fuck me already,” you begged so desperately wanting to feel him inside of you.

Sebastian's lips curled into a wicked smile at your boldness. You didn’t have to tell him twice.

With a low growl, he released your wrist and positioned himself between your thighs and without a word, he entered you slowly, savouring every inch of the delicious friction between your bodies. His hand slipped under your thigh and pushed your knee so he could gain better access into your depths.

And just as he expected, the position allowed his length to slide inside you so gracefully deep. As he settled fully inside you, a groan of pleasure escaped his lips.

He began to move and each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you surrendered completely to the ecstasy of the moment, lost in the rhythm of Sebastian pumping you, “Ah.. fuck– yes..”

Your moans echoed through the silent night, mingling with the rustling leaves and whistling wind. The sounds of nature seemed to fade into the background and were replaced by the sound of your lusts.

His movement was slow but he hit you deep and right exactly where you wanted him to be. You clenched hard around his cock and it sent him frantic, “You feel.. so damn good..”

Your hand gripped his toned arms, your back arched, and your head leaned back in ecstasy. Without missing a beat of his thrusts, Sebastian seized the opportunity to lavish on your bare skin, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

Then, he took the moment to give your bouncing breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and sucking it gently. And by Merlin’s beard, this man knew how to multitask.

You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, meeting each of Sebastian's deep thrusts with equal fervour. When his rhythm intensified, the nails of your hand dug into his arm and it elicited a sharp intake of breath that came out of him.

With each thrust, you felt a different kind of connection with Sebastian, a deeper sense of intimacy. It was as if every movement, every caress, carried the weight of the world and the depth of your emotions. This felt more than just physical pleasure– it felt like a shared understanding of the fleeting nature of time and the preciousness of the moments you shared together.

Sebastian brushed aside the strands of hair that obscured your face, his gaze penetrating, filled with a tumult of emotions—lust, grief, love, all swirling together. At that moment, when his eyes locked with yours, you felt the depth of his presence. The way he looked at you, the way he felt inside of you, it was overwhelming– it was so, so good it made you want to cry.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, urging him to delve deeper. Sebastian's deep, husky voice filled the air with a moan, your name escaping his lips in a desperate plea for more, “I.. I love you..” He declared breathlessly, his words laden with raw emotion, “I love you.. so much..”

“I love you too..” You cupped his cheek, pressing your foreheads together, “I-im so.. so close..”

He tightened his embrace around you, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own climax. With a fervent kiss, he whispered against your lips, "Come with me, darling.”

The intensity built and you felt the tension coil within you, ready to unravel at any moment. And then, as if on cue, you felt it—the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body tensed, every nerve ending alive with sensation as cries of ecstasy escaped your lips, filling the air with the sweet sound of your orgasm, “oh fuck– Sebastian!”

With a guttural groan, he cried out your name and reached his peak, his body shuddering with release as he spilled inside of you.

Sebastian collapsed against you, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the afterglow of your moment.

He kissed the line of your shoulders, then your cheek, and eventually your lips.

As he pulled back slightly, he took a moment to stare at your face, his eyes filled with all of the emotions that were left, like he was trying to memorise every detail, every curve, every expression– he never wanted to forget this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said with a smile that reminded you of all the reasons you fell for him.

“Oh, shut up.” You kissed him to mask the way your cheeks flushed red.

When you both pulled away from the kiss, you found yourselves lingering in the intimacy of the moment. Your noses brushed together softly, eliciting a gentle smile from both of you. Sebastian's fingers traced the contours of your jaw with delicate precision, his touch telling you how much he loves you.

You reciprocated by running your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands intertwine with your touch. The closeness between you felt electric.

“Marry me.” He suddenly said and your loving gaze swapped into confusion in an instant.

“What?”

“Marry me.” He repeated, “Today, tomorrow, next week– I don’t care.”

Sebastian's sudden proposal left you speechless as his words sank in slowly. His eyes bore into yours and you searched it for any hint of uncertainty. You know he’s grieving, and this could be just that. “Sebastian..”

“This is not grief talking or merely an after-sex impulse.” He assured you as if he could read your mind, “This is something that I’ve been thinking about for some time. With everything that’s been going on with Anne, don’t you think it’s telling us something?”

He was begging for your consideration, wanting you to believe that he meant every word.

“Cherish every moment we have left, you said.” He stroked your hair with a touch so gentle it felt so tender and reassuring, “You gave me a life to live. And I want to spend the rest of my time loving you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaotic feelings swirling inside you. Sebastian's proposal was unexpected, but you know it felt right. There was something about his sincerity that was hard to deny.

"Do you really mean it?" You whispered.

"Yes." He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering by your cheek. "I mean it with all my heart. I want to marry you."

A smile painted across your face, your lips curling into a wide grin. Without any inhibitions, you pulled him into a kiss, expressing your love and acceptance through the tender gesture. The passion ignited once again.

You lost yourself in the intimacy of the moment, wrapped in Sebastian's firm grasp, letting your mind and body surrender to the joy.

Sebastian quickly pulled away, eyes flickered with anticipation when he realised you hadn’t really given your answer, “Wait, is that a yes?”

A playful glint danced in your eyes as you nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Of course, it’s a yes.”

Sebastian's face lit up with a radiant smile, relief washing over him as leaned in to resume the kiss.

Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fandom #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader

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peachyxreads · 2 years

Text

Crossing the Line || M.M.

Pairing: professor!Matt Murdock x college!reader (afab)

Summary: You’ve developed a close friendship with Professor Murdock over the years, hiding your true feelings militantly. A few months prior to graduation, you come to him in distress and finally find out how he feels about you.

Includes: fluff, smut, teacher/student relationship, no gendered language, no y/n, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, nondescript hormonal birth control, professor murdock

Words: ~3.5k

A/N: Thank you so so much to the lovely folks who offered to beta and proof my first fic, including @thegreengoop and @scarletsloveletter!! And please feel free to hit me up with comments or feedback, even prompts! Likes and reblogs also let me know you like my work :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: MINORS DNI. I do not condone the theft of content I create and share.

Warmth, strength, a certain crispness of his pressed shirt or his fading cologne—you're not sure which—and tenderness. That is all you can feel, all you can take in from the world as he holds you in a gentle hug.

This hug, this warmth, with your arms under his, his left arm wrapped around your back and other hand squeezing your neck, this has come after years of wondering if he knew how you felt about him, if he felt the same way. You've also spent these years wondering if your feelings are real or if they're childish—some immaturity, some need for attention and validation you never grew out of. But looking into his brightening face and lifted posture every time you meet, seeing the wildness in him and yourself throughout all of your excited discussions, you know it's real. Whether or not he thinks about you in bed at night the way you do him, it's real. It's friendship, at least. Companionship probably not unlike what he's had with other students before. Or so you thought.

You've known Professor Murdock for a little over two years, taking his classes every other semester or so, visiting his office hours to chat when you aren't his student. The two of you have developed an easy relationship; you respect each other, delight in each other, never get too close but enjoy a comfortable distance—or rather an appropriate closeness—you found after a while. He knows your work and you know his instruction. Each of you knows the other's passions well, each of you knows the other's fears and holds them softly in your heart.

Matt's a young professor and a great one at that. Other than his obvious, somehow humble charm, the way he instantly connects with his students enchanted you from the day you met. He has the sharpness you and your peers strive for and hope is only a few years away, and he encourages you all, giving you the support and inspiration you need to get there. Though, he likes to tell you that you're sharp, that you're years ahead of him. Any compliment hinting at an equality between the two of you births a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and elsewhere. When you explain your latest research project or what you think of the last novel you read and he looks utterly captivated, you can't help but want him to get up, close the door, and lock it before returning to you in a passionate fever. Just the idea of the sound of the lock clicking, the shift in the air it represents, makes you swoon inside, drool like Pavlov's dog. Tick.

You went to him in need today, catching him after his smallest class as the room would be next in coziness and remoteness after his office. No office hours today. Today, the day you received a response from your dream grad school. Your application was denied. You applied to others, of course, but you can't help the tears begging to spring forward with defeat. You feel as though you've failed. How could you really be as sharp as he says you are? As sharp as he repeatedly praised you for being throughout the application process? You shared it all with him. And now it's ruined.

You walk through the door as the last few students part. He's gathering his things and readying to leave. He doesn't notice you right away, your steps gentle and voice paralyzed. When he turns to the door you break the silence.

"Professor Murdock…" you struggle to sigh, choked up. He recognizes your voice instantly, his frame rupturing in a small jolt and face taking a delighted, curious expression. This fades a little once he realizes the pain he heard in your speech.

"Hey, are you alright?" He sets his briefcase down and removes his glasses—he knows it's just the two of you now—before moving toward you with urgency.

"Yeah, n-no…I didn't get in. I was rejected. The others, I don't know, I'll probably get into one, but—"

He presses a hand to your shoulder, holding for a moment before moving for the door. He gently guides you away from the frame as he reaches to close it. You hear a tick, the lock. Nerves, arousal, fear, sadness, lust all rip through you and mix together. You're shaking and melting at the same time.

"It's alright, it's okay," he offers as he turns back to you, "I'm so sorry."

He hears your quiet sniffle and realizes tears must be coming down. He can sense that you're completely frozen. He steps even closer and wraps himself around you. A hug to thaw. You feel a hand on your neck, comforting, an arm around you, strong, his chest on yours and your face to his collar. You breathe him in and begin to release into it.

Fuck.

Years without this. Years without touch. Years without a hand to the arm or a playful shoulder nudge. You even skipped handshakes, too cordial. You would never have brought yourself to make contact. You didn't want to cross a boundary, you wanted to show respect, thought it should be on his terms. Or maybe you were just worried initiating a single touch would let him onto you, would make him wonder how you felt, pity you for your schoolyard crush and become cold. Now you're questioning whether that was the right choice. Fuck it all if this is how intoxicating his body feels.

With a final squeeze, he lets you go. He doesn't shift back or away from you, instead brings a hand to your chest. What is he doing? The flat of his hand is large, larger than yours. Looking down you see just how much of your chest it covers.

"Your heart is beating so fast," he almost whispers, bringing your attention to his voice, "your breathing is quick."

You bring your gaze up, it's been too long since you looked into his face. The confrontation makes you release and look down again.

"Am I making you nervous?" He gently suggests.

You nod, releasing a small "yes."

"What can I do?" You feel his body tense a little, likely in fear of making the wrong move. He begins to move away, but you bring your hand to his wrist, keeping his hand pressed to your heart.

The two of you spend a moment like this, close but far apart, both unsure. As the seconds pass you bring your attention back to your hand on his wrist and start to rub his skin with your thumb, holding him just a bit tighter. He shifts forward again, an inch closer to you, and you look up to examine his face. Another moment.

"Do you want me," he pauses before finishing and lowers his voice, "to touch you?"

You nod and lean into him a bit, earlier tears making it hard to speak again. He smiles softly at the silence.

"You have to say it, yes or no. I need to hear you tell me."

You swallow, trying to break through your nervousness and arousal, out of your body, to talk.

"I want you to touch me," you produce with some mustered up confidence. It's one of the only things you're truly certain of right now.

With your approval he moves both hands to grip your waist. The pressure draws a sigh from you, encouraging him to rub your sides with his thumbs. You're completely submerged in his presence. The small movements send electric waves to your core. The feeling is so intense, he might be all you'll ever need.

Then you realize what's really happening. You place your hands on his chest to balance the contact between you. He's touching you. He wants to touch you. He locked the door. There is something in this. There is something in him.

"You…do you like this?" you ask, needing now to hear it from him. He furrows his eyebrows just slightly, stressing your nerves again. What if he doesn't?

"Yes," he starts with a timidity you're not used to hearing in his voice, "I do. I want to…I've wanted to. It's not- I couldn't…touch you."

You can't help but smile. There's total peace, total clarity. He's nervous too. He wants you. He wants to touch you. Not only that, he has wanted to touch you all the while you wanted to touch him. Neither of you could do it, could break the boundary, cross the line, show yourselves. The intimacy is more intense in the conversation between you than in the physical connection. The potential energy in the room has reached its height now that you know he feels the same way about you. You know the drop is about to come. You're prepared now. You're confident.

"I've wanted you since we met." You admit softly.

He recites with sincerity, "I've wanted you since we met. It's only grown."

You step an inch toward him, closing what miniscule gap there was. The two of you join in a kiss, linking perfectly. A soft, warm, inspired kiss, mouths like puzzle pieces, instantly wanting more. He wraps an arm around your lower back to lift your waist to his before bringing a hand up to rest on your jaw. You're deepening the kiss together into a slow, sloppy mess, well-choreographed and intoxicating. It's all either of you need for a few minutes, quickening the pace and moving together, pushing and pulling, feeling each other, flowing with intuition.

You break from each other and he guides the two of you behind his desk. Resisting the magnetic force drawing you together, he slides the desk chair out and motions for you to sit. He kneels with a shining smile, using the arm of the chair to guide himself before you.

"Do you know what you want?" He asks, wanting to establish a serious level of understanding.

"I…don't know. I like what we have. I liked that," you grab his hand for more touch, "I like this. I want to be…us. It feels natural," the truth charms you as you speak it.

"It does. It feels natural. I love being with you, talking to you. The closer we got, the closer I wanted to be. I couldn't let myself reach out. I was afraid of doing something you didn't want, even if it seemed like you did want it."

Seeing him be so vulnerable, it's huge. You've always felt quicker to show that side of yourself. It's harder to draw out from him. He's the professional, after all. You want to show him he's safe, reassure him.

"I understand. I felt the same way. It's not something we could really talk about or…try. I couldn't touch your arm or reach for your hand like I would with any coffee date that's going well," that earned a chuckle from him, and subsequently you, before continuing, "I'm graduating in a few months. What if we saw each other off campus? I'm not taking any more of your classes this year."

"Yeah. I'd love that," he answers with a bittersweet smile, "but what do we do, now?"

His expression is disappointed despite the excitement, almost pained. It's hell to see a face that sad on him. You want to make it better for both of you, you know he'll only respond to your initiative. Maybe you should wait, give it a few days at least, but you can't. Not with him kneeling before you. You've been aching this whole time, trying to suppress the bubbling desire, but you can't. It doesn't have to be perfect, but you want to feel him. You just want to do it, save the slow and sensual for other times, create something out of the passion between you right now.

You slide the chair back out from under you and meet him on the floor. Wrapping a hand around his neck, you decide to pop the bubble.

"I want you, now."

With that you crash into each other, fiending for friction in a new kiss, pressing lips and bodies close together, both on your knees like sinners. You push against him but he wins out, pinning you to the floor. He begins to slide kisses along your jaw, down your neck, retiring at your collarbones. It almost tickles, his soft lips to such thin skin. As a hand of his feverishly traces your body, gripping around your side and rubbing down to your pelvis, you bring one of yours to the nape of his neck with the other around his body to hold him close. His thumb rubs the crease of your hip, the line that leads to your core, causing you to tug on his smooth brown locks.

"Matt…" you call softly.

"Mm?" he questions, lips still connected to your body.

"Come up here," you command, nearly breathless.

He complies, bringing his head up to meet your face. You lift yourself to connect and bring him down with you in another kiss, letting a hand search his trousers.

"Christ," he moans as you graze the strained fabric. His voice in such ecstasy is like music. No, something more than music. It's a heavenly sound that wraps you up in the same pleasure it expresses. You need to hear more.

"Need you, please," you whine, adding pressure to his crotch with your hand.

"Okay, fuck," he responds with a low, almost cracking voice.

The two of you begin to rise, him standing easily as you prop yourself up on your hands. "Matt," you call, prompting him to lean down, wrap an arm around your back, and lift you with surprising strength. You had noticed his build before, the toned shape of his arms through his shirts, but you had no idea he had such power. Realizing what that means for the moments to come has your legs fluttery and core aching.

"On the desk," you tell him.

His face lights with a ravenous grin. You sense an animalistic hunger in his voice despite the questioning tone when he asks if you're sure.

"Please," you add, and he reaches a hand out to find the desk before lifting you up onto it, again with a surprising, arousing ease. The second your ass reaches the wood you push off your bottoms and he helps pull them down and release them from you. Going in for another kiss he allows his hands to rub your thighs, inching closer and closer to your dripping center.

You bring him into a deep kiss, pulling on his lip as you part. You want him to know how starved you are for him, all of him. He begins to circle your folds, lavishly spreading your juices. As he circles your clit, you plead, out of breath. He gets the message and plunges in, working you with a rhythmic pace that draws blissful gasps unlike any you've made before. He uses his fingers masterfully, applying pressure where you need it and letting you bask in the pleasure for what feels like hours.

"Let me hear you," he moans into your ear, "tell me how it feels…being fucked by my fingers."

"Shit, Matt, so good…it feels so good," you answer him, reaching a pornographic tone.

It goes on, bringing you close but not there. You know what you need. You try to return your attention to the man in front of you through half-lidded eyes: you want him to feel the pleasure you do. You want to feel him fill you up.

"Need…" you gasp in reaction to his thrusting fingers and bring a hand to fumble with his belt, "more, please."

He grunts against your hand, losing reservation. You can tell he's about to snap, and you want nothing more than to see that side of him. To be on the receiving end of his crushing lust, to be desired and taken.

He digs his head into your shoulder as he urgently reaches for his belt, swatting your hands away. His belt is undone, his zip down, everything off in mere seconds. You can't do anything but sit there and watch as he moves frantically, clearly falling apart. You're drooling at the sight, your stomach turning with lust, your cunt throbbing uselessly against the cool surrounding air.

Taking his cock in his fist before you, he brings the fingers once inside you to your lips. He presses them into your willing mouth as he begins to pump himself. You swirl your tongue, taking in your own sweetness, and look down to see his tip already leaking precum. He removes his fingers, you brace against him, and he lifts and spreads your thighs. You whisper a sultry "fuck me, Matty" into his ear, and he finally snaps, pushing into you ruthlessly with a groan. You feel split in half, feeling his full length against your walls, filling every inch of you.

The thrusts are hard, fast, needy, sloppy. He's rutting into you and you're taking it perfectly. You can hear everything, so much you don't know what's what, whose moans are whose. The sounds engulf you, and you can only imagine what it's like for him. He's panting, grunting, breathing against your neck and jaw, attempting every so often to aim a kiss to your lips despite the crude pace of your bodies.

You lose a string of expletives in the ecstasy, responding to each thrust, "fuck, Matt, god…Matt."

He gives you praise between his grunts, moaning by your ear, "shit…you feel so good…you're so good…taking me…made for me…"

His movements lose even more rhythm, panting becoming strained as your own whines heighten. He's close. You reach for your wet, aching clit. Swirling effortlessly, you make hurried circles. The dual pleasure is beyond: you would see stars if the moaning man before you weren't a prettier sight.

"Fuck!" He shocks you with the exclamation, slowing his movements in frustration. Breathless, he struggles to blurt out "b-birth control?"

"Yes, Matty, please, keep going," you urge him to continue, assuaging his fear.

With that he slams into you hard, making you cry out against each thrust.

"I'm…" he fruitlessly tries to let the declaration escape.

"Me too, me too," you cry over him, digging your heels into his hips and working your clit fast.

Your orgasm hits. Warmth spreads from your core to your toes, ecstasy bursting through your body with such force you might break. In the delicious throes of your orgasm you feel Matt spill inside you, thrusting loosely through his own release. Hearing muted, you don't know what sounds either of you let loose at the height of pleasure, but you're sure you were practically screaming.

The two of you come down, panting and leaning against each other. Your heels keep him inside you, not ready to lose contact. Your exhales deepen and calm. Tucking in his chin, he presses a kiss to your neck before meeting your lips.

"Professor Mur-" you catch yourself, issuing the correction with some embarrassment, "Matt." You just want to feel his name in your mouth once more.

He smiles, but it quickly bursts into a grin, earning a satisfied giggle from you.

"That was…" he cracks through an uncontrollable smile.

"Amazing," you finish for him, adding, "thank you." You release him and hop down as he shifts back. He brings his hands to your waist once more, and you clutch his arms to rest in the warmth of his skin.

"Call me Matty again, please," he surprises you with the request, squeezing your waist.

"Thank you, Matty," you coo through a smile.

He nods softly. After a pause, he says, "you're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine. You'll be amazing at any program. It's you who makes it good, not the school."

You tear up quick at the consolation, overcome with adoration for the man before you. You slide your hand down his arm, pulling his fingers to your wet cheek and allowing him to swipe a streak with his thumb.

"Thank you, for everything, Matt."

"You're welcome. Thank you."

You give his hand a squeeze and release it so the two of you can re-dress yourselves.

"Would you like a ride home? I’ll call us a cab," he offers, grabbing his briefcase and replacing his glasses.

"That would be wonderful," you answer, buttoning your pants.

Matt moves forward and you approach him, stopping him with a hand to his chest. He leans down and meets your lips with his, connecting deeply like you both need it more than air. You part slowly and bring your lips to his ear.

"You're still dripping into my panties, Professor Murdock," you whisper, grasping onto the fleeting sense of lust.

Matt brings a free hand to grab your ass, replying, "would you like a ride to my home?"

"Yes, please, Matty!" You return with a playful cheekiness, as if all he offered were a homemade sweet or extra credit opportunity.

He snorts at your quip, muttering "you're too sharp. Let's go."

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asherlockstudy · 8 months

Note

um im just scrolling through the streamys tag and i saw your posts and i thought "oh they seem cool i wonder what the blog is like"... then i went scrolling and you mentioned link coming out??? huh??? (i haven't watched gmm in like years year years) you seem like a level headed person to ask.... link is... gay? did this happen recently??? i am so confused but i know that if i google im gonna get garbage results. so yeah

Hello! Sorry for the late reply, hope you get to see this.

The answer is... yes and no. While there isn't anything explicit / certain / definite over all this time, it seems there is some restlessness on their side, with several projects such as their recent scripted videos, but also as far back as Hazel, the GMEs and Ear Biscuits that point towards the possibility of them taking a very slow, long way towards this direction, especially Link. In fact it seems like Link can't stand being in the closet anymore but Rhett dreads leaving it. That's my general impression.

While I might be considered the most stark supporter of this theory around here (or at least the one who verbalizes it the most), a few days ago more people started considering it thanks to a moment during GME where Link did something very close to a coming-out.

In case you haven't watched any of the GMEs, GME (Good Mythical Evening) is a paid live show they do once a year, which is like the strictly adult version of GMM. There, strong references to sex are allowed and they also drink enough to get inebriated and foul language is also allowed to some degree.

All that on its own would be already a lot to consider, but GME has also strong homoerotic traits since Rhett and Link play a lot with their ship there. Last year, they re-enacted rhink fics where they were having sex (basically handjobs?), I don't remember exactly. And they acted LIKE they were doing it. This year, they took it up a notch and Rhett actually sucked Link's nipple, among other things. And I mean, he really did it. For a few seconds. But he did it...properly. Don't ask me why they do this stuff. I don't know. I think nobody knows. I am just presenting you the facts so I can give you an idea about what is going on.

So, during a game in this latest GME, this dialogue took place regarding what the act of "docking" is:

Rhett: I was right! It is a gay thing! Stevie: Whaaat? I mean, well, Link also agreed with your answer so... Rhett: We both get points! Hold on, though... one guy needs to be circumcised. Link: Yeah you only need one circumcision for docking. Stevie: Oh you're asking ME? Rhett: I think..... I don't know a lot about this but I think only one guy needs to be uncircumcised. Link: Do you think docking actually happens? Because I don't think docking increases pleasure. Rhett: I don't know, man. I can't do it, man. My parents didn't give me a choice. They just circumcised me, man. Link: I know, but even after you're circumcised, you can try. Rhett: With someone who's not circumcised...... And also, I am not gay. Link: Hey, that's okay. It's okay. Rhett: Yeah, I mean, it's cool to not be gay! Link: No, it's not "cool"- Rhett: No, it's "okay" to not be gay! By "cool" I meant it is "okay" to not be gay! Link: But just go ahead and explain yourself completely. Rhett: But I might do it for scientific purposes! Link: This is what I wish you would do when I say something stupid. Rhett: If they needed to figure it out, if two scientists wanted to figure out whether two guys need to be uncircumcised, I'd be like "okay", I mean, I'd check with my wife first. Link: Yeah, but just say it is equally cool to be gay. Rhett: It is cool to be whatever you wanna be. Link: Yeah. Exactly. It's cool to be whatever you need, you want to be, you are. It's cool to be who you are. That's what I am deriving. Rhett: Yeah, that's the coolest you can be, to just be who you are. Right, Stevie? Link: I, you know what, I feel like, Stevie, I feel like I have been on a journey. Stevie: Okay. Rhett: Yeah. Link: To know- to figure out who I am. Rhett (mutters): Yeah, yeah, right. Link: And it's extremely rewarding, challenging and- Rhett: But we won't be docking later... Link: And..... rewarding. And we wanna- Yeah... can you... I was saying something important. Rhett: Because we're both circumcised. Link: Yes, but we are not gonna be docking later. Rhett: Right, because we're both circumcised. Link: But you can be circumcised and still have enough of a skin left after the circumcision to dock... In Good Mythical More we are gonna answer questions from the crew and we 're gonna have conversations about - (meanwhile Rhett talks simultaneously and almost over him about unimportant docking musings) Link: ...Right, so if you are not gonna come to Good Mythical More, please you can still get a ticket, join us for Good Mythical More, but for now we're gonna move on. Rhett (sarcastically): Don't you want more of this? Link: In the More. Stevie moves on with the game.

So, what happens next, Link also had two-three more moments when he seemed to consider talking about something and Rhett explicitly told him "Whatever it is you want to say, just keep it to yourself" and also in another moment "You can tell your Uber driver on your way home but not here".

During the More, at which Link hinted, there was a red box with nosy questions asked from the crew. Rhett was the one taking the questions and reading them. He chose to not read loudly and thus answer at least two questions, even though he pulled them out of the box.

Link eventually did not make any more similar statements.

You should also know that a couple of weeks ago, during the GME promo, Link had said that one reason we should watch the GME show was that he might even make an emotional speech before its end.

Another thing, the last months Link has also expressed in interviews and even in a college graduation that it is important to find who you are and explore your identity, addressing this especially to young adults. He always seems emotionally charged when he does it.

That's it. To me it just seems like there's one explanation only, but I will leave you to your own conclusions.

And one last detail. Rhett did everything in his power to not let Link finish what he started - almost bullied him out of it. Despite all that, notice what he said. While Link was trying to say whatever he was trying to say, Rhett said:

But we're not gonna be docking later.................. because we're both circumcised.

And he repeated the explanation once more.

+++

#rhink #rhett and link #randl #gme3 #gme 3 #gme 2023 #mythical #good mythical evening #thanks for thinking i am level headed #yet apparently a few people here think i am wild #i am not complaining at all i never had many problems #i have got a bunch of very good tumblr peeps around me here #however i don't deny i am amused at the idea of some people #taking this dialogue and sticking it to their ass #sorry i couldn't help it #don't bother with my mini rant anon #you rock #anon #mail

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my-soupy-brain · 6 months

Note

hey!! i recently found your blog and i LOVE it your writing is so brilliant and i really enjoy it. i’m a gay dude so i dunno, i was wondering if you’d be willing to do a lil thing for a male reader?? my brain’s going to sunshine, sweet reader x grumpy roy. and the reader’s starting to rub off on roy so all of the players coaches are like “omg??? you’re actually decent to be around?? you’re obviously in love tell us her name so we can buy her a pint” and he goes “uhhhhh well actually his name is y/n” or whatever and the boys are like “cool….we need to buy him a pint that boy is a SAINT” and they’re all accepting and nice because i’m self indulgent lol

it’s cool if not tho!! i hope u have a great night either way ily

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS AND I AM HERE FOR YOU. I hope I can write Roy as fluidly as I feel I can write Ted but since he's made an appearance a couple of times, I think I can. Your synopsis is perfect. So let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Roy Kent x reader (m)

Warnings: Cute fluff + lust

---

You rolled over and saw Roy's gorgeous smile staring back at you.

"Good morning," he said softly, his hand over yours on your pillow.

"Well, good morning," you replied, leaning in to kiss him.

This is how most mornings with Roy started. He was in awe of you. That you came into his life. Awakened him. Brought him joy and peace he didn't know before.

As you make your coffee and tea, Roy lets his hand rest on your hip for a moment and then slide across your back as he reaches above you for a mug.

It always catches you by surprise.

His big, warm hands. His lithe fingers. How they feel when they touch your body, and especially your skin.

"This is my favorite part of my day, you know," Roy says, smiling across the table with his mug in his hands. "Having quiet mornings with you."

"Why Roy Kent, I never thought I'd see the calm, quiet side of you from the moment I met you," you reply. "It's quite welcome."

Roy remembers how edgy he was before you came into his life. How his heart had been broken a few times before. How he kept everyone pushed out.

But the night you met him, something clicked.

You asked how he was doing.

No one has ever asked that before.

You asked him about his hobbies, what he was reading.

No one had ever asked that, either.

So yeah, falling in love with you? The sunshine, the calm, the quiet blue sky of you? He was all in. Finally.

...

Roy came into his office whistling.

That was the first clue that something was going on. Coach Beard and Ted Lasso looked at each other across their pushed-together desks and then watched Roy shake his coat off and put it over his chair, still whistling a tune.

He picked up his phone and smiled at a text from you.

Hey, handsome. Have a good day at work. xoxo

Roy put his phone down and walked into Beard and Ted's office.

"Hey, how's it going?"

Beard put his book down and stared, open-mouthed. Ted felt a little startled.

In the years Roy's been here coaching, he's never just popped in to ask how they -- or anyone else -- are doing.

"You doin' OK there, Roy-o?" Ted asked.

"Perfect, actually. Why?"

Ted just shrugged nonchalantly. "No reason."

Roy went back into his office and sat at his desk, writing down some ideas he had for plays. Preparing for the day of practice ahead.

On the pitch, he still used his yelling WHISTLE! but when Jamie apologized for messing up a play, Roy just smiled.

"It's OK, Jamie. We'll just run it again," Roy said with a smile. Jamie cowered a little, waiting for a scolding. Roy put his hand on his shoulder. "Seriously, we'll just try again."

Jamie went back to the team, Jan and Dani and Sam happy that Roy didn't get angry, but equally confused.

In the locker room after practice, Roy is smiling. Jamie takes the plunge.

"OK, OK, I give up. What's her name?" Jamie asks Roy. Roy turns to look at Jamie.

"Huh?"

"Well you're clearly in a good mood, must be a bird. So what's her name?"

Roy shakes his head and smiles.

"Not a bird. And his name is y/n."

The locker room is almost a record scratch. All eyes are on Roy.

"I met someone, his name is y/n. And he's changed my life."

More silence.

And then a slow clap.

And more applause.

Jamie offers a hug, which Roy accepts.

"I'm happy for ya, old man," Jamie says with a smile. "So when do we meet him? Let's get a pint sometime soon, yeah?"

Roy nods and smiles. "Love to."

...

That's how you found yourself at the pub with some of the AFC Richmond team.

Your hands intertwined under the table. Roy giving you a kiss on the head when he gets up to grab another pint at the bar.

"We knew somethin' was up," Jamie says after taking a sip of beer.

You tilt your head. "Why's that?'

"He was smiling more, for starters. He even walks differently. He usually walks like this..." Jamie pushes his shoulders up and imitates a scowl. "And now he's...relaxed?"

You smile. "I"m glad. He's certainly been better in my life."

Jamie smiles. "We're glad, too. Less sprints around the pitch now!"

---

Hope you enjoyed this, friend! Thank you for your kind words, and thank you for this prompt. This was very sweet. I think Roy would love to be loved like that. Gently and compassionately. What a journey for him. Thanks again!

#roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x you

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missvelvetsstuff · 1 year

Text

Guarded Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky x Nat, Reader x Thor

Mob AU, arranged marriage

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of a powerful mob boss who only cares about her horses and making it to the Olympics but her father expects her to marry an equally powerful boss to help strengthen his business. Bucky is looking for a wife to help his business and give him an heir but already has a long term girlfriend, Natasha.

Warnings: swearing, angst, arranged marriage, infidelity, slow burn, dirty thought and talk, smut.

I tried to keep my reader as generic as possible but like always she's female and taller than average.

Chapter 2

Chapter notes: This has a bit of smut. I realized I haven't been very responsible about encouraging safe sex. To be fair I've been in a long time committed relationship and had my tubes tied a number of years ago so it's not something I think about. However, I lost two of my closest friends to AIDS and condoms would have saved one of them.

So be safe, it ain't worth dying for.

In case you missed it just a taste of SMUT AHEAD

18+ ONLY

The day after that luncheon, Y/N was in the barn office when she received a text from an unknown number-

*Good morning Doll, hope you slept well.

She grinned, thinking about last nite and this morning with Thor. His skill in bed was godlike. She shook her head and replied to the text

*Who is this and how did you get my number?

The response

*This is Bucky

She furrowed her brow

*Who the hell is Bucky?

*Sorry, James but you can call me either one.

I thought we should get together, I have a ring for you and we should at least start planning the engagement party. It's expected.

She sighed

*I suppose you're right. How about brunch on Sunday? Leave her behind

Bucky shook his head, Nat wasn't gonna like this.

*sure, I know a great place. I'll pick you up at 10?

*11 would be better, I'll be at the barn from 5-10. Unless you don't care if i shower.

Bucky got distracted for a moment thinking of her in the shower. Nat really isn't gonna like this, he was already fantasizing about Y/N, even last nite when he was with Nat. There was just something about her.

*11 is fine, please shower it's a nice restaurant and I have a reputation to maintain.

*Only for you, Jamie. I'll see you Sunday.

Jamie? What the hell was that? it just came out and she hit send before she could catch herself. She shook her head, no little pet names, she was not falling in love with this guy, this was business. So what if he was drop dead gorgeous with those blue eyes she could drown in and plush pink lips she wanted to kiss.

Nope, nope, nope...not doing this. Falling in love was out of the question and he already had someone. Just business. And maybe a little lust.

Jamie? Bucky wondered. Where did that come from? He shrugged, he's been called worse by women. It's kind of cute. Nat would hate that too, he hoped their relationship was strong enough to bear this marriage but he had his doubts.

Nat came out of the bathroom hair still dripping, wrapped in a towel "What are you grinning about moya lyubov(my love)?"

Bucky jumped, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, wondering how Y/N would sound moaning 'Jamie' while he was deep inside her, that he didn't hear Nat.

He shook his head and grabbed Nat to help with the results of his fantasizing "Just thinking of you, baby. We have to be quick, almost time to meet dad for breakfast."

Nat smiled and dropped her towel.

30 minutes later they hurried out of his place to meet his father for breakfast at his parents townhouse.

When they arrived George Barnes walked out to the car with a big grin on his face. "I hear that lunch went well. Y/N is quite the beauty, son. She has been raised in the life and is a very strong woman from all I have heard. I think this will be a good match, yes?"

Bucky nodded, "I think so." And smiled. "I'm taking her for brunch on Sunday so I'll need the ring. We are going to plan our engagement party.

Nat scowled but kept quiet.

George ignored Nat, like he usually did. He couldn't understand why his oldest son picked her for his right hand when his adopted brother, Steve, would have made more sense. He had let it go but had hopes that Y/N would be a better match for his son and help him get over this silly rebellion with Nat.

"Of course, son, your mother has the ring.

Let's go inside before your mother comes out and yells at both of us."

They went up the steps into the house and headed for the kitchen where Bucky's mom, Winnifred or Winnie, was making breakfast.

Bucky walked up behind her and kissed her cheek "Ma, you don't have to make a big breakfast time I come over. You could get a cook and take some stress off of yourself. Or we could go out for breakfast."

Winnie turned around and hugged her son "Don't be silly. Cooking relaxes me and I have to make sure you get a healthy meal once in awhile."

She finished the French toast she was making and handed him a plate "Here, take this to the table. You need to sit down and tell me about this girl."

When they entered the dining room she saw Nat sitting at the table and tensed "Natasha" Nat nodded

Winnie also hoped her son would get over whatever he had with Nat. She just wasn't good for her son. Their partying was legendary and he needed to grow up.

Winnie waited until everyone sat down and started eating before she spoke up again "So. Tell me about this girl, Y/N, right? Her reputation is horse crazy, charity queen. If she's not with her horses she's heading up fundraisers for mostly children and animal charities. I met her once but it was brief, she's lovely and very well spoken although a bit snarky at times.

What do you think?"

Bucky smiled thinking of Y/N "She was more than a bit snarky but it was more casual than when you met her. She's beautiful and was sweet but doesn't seem to be one that puts up with others bullshit. She's strong, for sure. The troubles she had awhile back would have brought that out. I think she was probably more woman than Zemo could handle, honestly."

Winnie smiled, she saw the look on his face, her son was smitten even if he didn't realize it yet. She also saw the look on Nats face, brow drawn, teeth clenched. Good, let her stew. Winnie never trusted Nat, something wasn't right with the way she just showed up a few years ago and bewitched him, for lack of a better term.

"She sounds like quite a woman. I'm looking forward to meeting her."

Bucky nodded "You'll meet her at the Christmas party since it's coming up soon. Can I get the ring? We have a brunch date on Sunday and figured we might as well get things rolling."

"Of course. I'll get it for you after we eat.

Why don't you announce your engagement at the party? Or if you want to get everyone's attention you could propose there."

Once they finished eating and cleared the table, Winnie left them to their business.

George asked his son "How did your talk with her father go?

Bucky nodded "It went pretty well. He was a bit greedy but I was able to help him see his errors. Both families stand to increase our profits with the plans we discussed. Once he's gone, his territories will merge with ours. We'll be the most powerful family in the state."

George nodded and smiled "I knew you were ready for this.

What about her? Did she have any demands?"

"A few but they weren't unreasonable. The main points were that her horses come first and don't flaunt any other women and make a fool of her. She's pretty involved in the community and multiple charities so I get that. Most of the rich, charity women are bored housewives and will latch onto any potential gossip. We don't need any of that drama anyhow so at least I know she's careful about that." Bucky explained.

"I need to find a house with horse facilities, before the wedding and she wants a sizable allowance but nothing we can't handle."

George nodded "I've heard worse demands. That Dolores-"

Bucky cut him off "I know dad, that's one of the many reasons I'm not marrying her."

"But you did think about it. That girl must be a demon in the sack to cloud your mind like she did." George glanced at Nat, who was practically steaming at the talk of Bucky with other women.

Bucky laughed "Obviously not good enough to keep me enthralled."

Nat stood up abruptly "Excuse me" she gritted out and stomped away.

George shook his head "I see Natasha isn't taking all this very well. Maybe you should reconsider her as your right hand before you marry Y/N. She might cause trouble and besides you know Steve would be a better choice. Hell even Sam would-"

Bucky snapped "Damnit dad could we not go through this for the millionth time? Nat's my right hand and that's that." He calmed down and then forced out "I love her" Bucky wasn't sure who he was trying to convince his father or himself but he wasn't feeling it today.

George laughed "That's not very convincing but I'll let it go for now. You just keep an eye on her and don't let her hurt Y/N."

When Nat returned they went on to go over business and the agreements Bucky made with Y/N's father.

Once they were done Bucky went to say goodbye to his mother. He kissed her on the cheek and she gave him the ring. It was his great-grandmothers, brought from Ireland when she emigrated at the turn of the last century. It featured a 1 carat pear cut emerald and had a trinity knot design with a number of smaller diamonds. Simple and tasteful but showy enough for a mafia princess.

Bucky smiled, imagining his soon to be fiance sporting his family heirloom. It would look lovely on her. He shook his head.

"Thanks Ma. I'll see you tomorrow"

When they got in the car, Nat refused to speak to him "C'mon, Natty. You know I love you. This has to happen."

She snapped at him "Yeah but you don't have to enjoy it so fucking much. And you told me you never fucked Dot but that was more bullshit wasn't it?"

Bucky squirmed a bit "It was only a couple of times, she was getting suspicious. She wanted to have you killed, I had no choice. Besides she was awful and I'm still with you. Y/N is different, she's not expecting a fairy tale."

"But you're still gonna fuck her. Talking to your dad you sounded like you really like her."

Bucky shrugged "She's nice enough." He grabbed Nats hand "Look baby, I know this sucks but I'm not going to let myself be miserable over it. You should try to make some peace with it because I'm not gonna let you make me miserable either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday morning, Y/N was up at 5am like always and raced to the barn to feed her horses. In addition to Destry a black Irish Hunter she had her first horse, Dylan a grey Welsh pony, Daisy a palomino thoroughbred mare, Lulu a dapple grey Warmblood and Stinky a paint who was barely taller than a pony and Destry's bff. She refused to sell her horses when she moved up to a higher class, she loved them all as the only friends she could really trust.

Once everyone was fed she went to the guest house and kicked off her boots. Thor was awake and the smell of coffee filled the house. She found him facing the coffee maker and snuck up behind him.

"Hey handsome, you come here often?" She asked in a sultry voice as she wrapped her arms around his bare torso.

Thor turned around and lifted her up onto the counter. Rubbing at her clothed core he smirked "Mmmm, yes. I cum here all the time. Does my sweet pussy need to be fed?"

She nodded and grabbed him by the back of the neck to bring him closer to kiss her "Always. I always need you, Thor." She moaned softly as their lips met and rubbed his clothed cock.

He groaned "My greedy girl. It's barely been 8 hours." As he pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra.

She leaned back to pull her bra off "You always seem to be able to rise to the occasion. I think you're just as needy as I am so stop teasing" then leaned back in to grip his now erect cock. She pushed his sweats down with her feet until he sprang free already red and leaking.

Thor moaned loudly "With a vixen like you how could I not be needy." He tapped her leg, waited for her to lift her hips then ripped her sweats and panties down her legs. Thor pulled her to the edge of the counter and rubbed his throbbing cock against her dripping pussy, coating himself in her slick.

"You ready baby?" She nodded eagerly then threw her head back and moaned as he slowly slid into her heat. "Fuck baby, I don't know how you can still be so fucking tight when you take my cock twice a day. Or more. So good."

She was already gone by the time he was fully sheathed in her, immersed in his scent and the feel of his body against her, his cock filling her so perfectly. He pulled out to the tip and pushed back in, taking long, slow, deep strokes...hitting all the right spots in her. She wrapped her legs around his back to keep him close and ran her fingers through his hair then pulled it making him grunt. He started moving faster and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb, making her mewl in pleasure.

"You have bewitched me, little one. So fucking good. I can feel your pussy squeezing me, are you going to cum already. I need to feel you come and drench my cock."

Thor's dirty talk pushed her over the edge and he growled when he felt her gushing around him. It was too much and after a few more thrusts he filled her.

Y/N looked up at Thor and smiled sweetly. "Coffee is awesome but this is definitely the best part of waking up." She pouted "I wish I could wake up next to you."

Thor kissed her "I know my sweet but your father would never accept our relationship. I'm just the stable manager, not fit to be with a princess such as yourself. I'm sure your fiance will take good care of you. Maybe you'll even fall in love." He pulled out and grabbed a towel to clean her up.

Y/N laughed "Now that's funny. Love is for children and Hallmark movies. Besides he has a girlfriend but she's sterile. I don't think she likes me very much" she grinned mischievously as she got off of the counter.

"Come on, let's get started. I have to finish by 10, he's picking me up for brunch at 11 and I told him I'd shower first."

Just before 10 Y/N left after giving Thor a blow job in the tack room and went back to the main house to get ready for brunch. She put on a demure dress and warm boots, keeping her hair and make-up simple. She had just finished putting her earrings in when she heard the doorbell ring. With one last look in the mirror she headed downstairs to find James chatting with her mother.

"There she is, you look lovely dear" her mother smiled "You kids enjoy your date."

Y/N smiled "Thanks mom"

Bucky offered his arm "Shall we?"

"Of course, Jamie" she blurted out before she realized what she was doing "Sorry, I don't know where that came from."

Bucky smiled "Don't be, I like it. No ones ever called me Jamie."

Bucky was a perfect gentleman making sure to open the door for her and when they arrived at the restaurant he guided her to the table with his hand on her lower back.

They sat down and ordered, making small talk while they waited for their food.

"My mother tells me you are very involved with a number of charities, animals and kids seem to be your passion."

She nodded "Yes, they are the only truly innocent in this world and don't deserve any of the horrors dumped upon them. I can't seem to muster up much enthusiasm for any other causes.

I've been training pretty heavily the last few months so haven't been able to do any charity work. That probably won't change much for awhile but I'll be sure to make the time for wedding stuff."

The food came and they kept up the conversation as they both picked at their food.

Bucky smiled "I'll have to come watch you ride sometime"

She shook her head "That's not necessary, I'm sure you're a busy man."

"I am but that doesn't mean I won't make time for you. Even if we aren't in love we will be stuck with each other." He winked. "I'd rather be friends and keep things amicable. Plus there will be plenty of occasions where we will need to appear together and have some clue about each other.

Not to mention when we do have kids I don't want them to grow up in a cold house. They will deserve to have a loving home."

Y/N smiled softly at him, if they had met under different circumstances, before Zemo and without her father breathing down her neck, maybe they could have had something real but her father's insistence that she marry soured the whole thing. Her stomach dropped thinking of having kids with him and she felt that tingle in her core at the idea of making those kids with him.

She cleared her throat "Did you grow up in a loving home? I didn't think that was common in this life."

He nodded "Yeah, my folks are great. I mean, Dad had to be hard sometimes but he always made sure we knew we were loved and my mom, she's incredible."

She looked surprised "We? You have siblings?"

"A younger sister, Rebecca. You'll meet her at the Christmas party. She goes to school in Boston but is coming home for the break. And an adopted brother, Steve has been my closest friend since grade school so when his parents were both killed in a car accident, mine took him in. He'll be at the party too.

You're an only child? Your mother seems very caring...."

She grimaced "Mom is, she was an accomplished equestrian as well but when she married my father, well she ended up giving it up to be the kind of wife he wanted. She rides with me occasionally and helps when I have challenges. My father is complicated, his dad was a cold man, all business and his mother passed when he was young so he never had that warmth. He loves me in his own way and taught me how to be strong, made sure I understood and was prepared for what was expected of me but has never been loving. He expects me to give up my Olympic dreams and be a perfect mob wife. I hope you realize that's not happening."

Bucky chuckled "I worked that out on my own." He paused "That sounds like a rough way to grow up."

She shrugged "I've met girls from other families who had it worse. At least he didn't beat me into submission and he's always tolerated, meaning paid for, my horses so I always have friends in the barn."

He took her hand "I don't expect you to give up something that is obviously so important to you. Wouldn't want to take you away from your friends. Maybe I can make friends with them too." He smiled hopefully.

She squeezed his hand "Anything's possible."

Bucky laughed. The sound made her feel warm. "So what do you do for fun? What kind of hobbies do you have or is fucking angry redheads all you have the time for" she smirked

Bucky choked "Damn doll, you learn that bluntness from your father? Lets not talk about her.

I work on my bikes."

"Wow, sexy mobster and biker? I'm surprised you dont have a line of women following you around. What kind of bike?"

He grinned "It's a Harley road king but I have an old Indian that I'm fixing up. I don't have much spare time so its slow going. You like bikes?"

She smiled "Yeah, I have a little enduro that I putt around on. Nothing like a Harley. You'll have to take me for a ride." The thought of sitting behind him on a bike, pushed up against his back, brought that warmth back.

Bucky noticed she seemed a little flustered and rubbed her hand. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

"Of course"

Y/N tried to finish her food but the butterflies in her stomach prevented her from swallowing any more.

Bucky returned with a smile on his face but instead of sitting down he bent down on one knee next to her. He pulled a beautiful ring out of his pocket and took her hand with a twinkle in his eye "Y/N Y/L/N would you do me the honor of joining me in an arranged marriage to further our families businesses?"

Y/N laughed and Bucky promised himself he would do everything he could to make her laugh like that every day "Yes, Jamie. I will arranged marry you" he slid the ring onto her ring finger and sat back in his seat as the waitress brought the champagne he requested and a number of the other patrons applauded.

@bigphattygyal

Across the restaurant a woman sitting by herself in an obvious blonde wig and huge sunglasses broke the glass she was holding, threw some bills on the table and stormed out but Bucky and Y/N were completely oblivious.

Chapter 3

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@kimomoraba

@avery199

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x natasha #thor odison x reader #arranged marriage #mob!bucky #mob!au #Guarded Heart

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lyon-amore · 1 year

Text

What if…? Duskwood Chapter 11

Chapter 10 ————————————————————————————-

*Macie POV*

When I got back from work, Aiden asked me if I see the messages from him. I didn't even know that I had received messages from him. "Wait a minute..." I try to remember what happened, I found Jake a little weird... <<So you're interested in me, huh?>> I don't know why, but the conversation we've had about parkour has been… It seemed to me… I blush at the thought of how ridiculous I sound. Jake still hasn't fully opened up to me, which makes him not fully trust me yet. I wonder if he's in trouble. “And could I help you, Jake?” I wonder, looking at his profile picture, “Besides Hannah, do you need me too? I can tell something's up, but I'm not that much of a guess. Years of not using intuition has made it a bit rusty. "Will you come to trust me so much that you can tell me about it?"

Having breakfast I manage to find a photo of a drawing of a crow in a tree. I send it to Jake, smiling, knowing that I'll be able to see him today too. If there's one thing I know, it's that I don't like getting into other people's problems, but if that problem was about obtaining information, then I couldn't do anything. The problem? That maybe Cleo had gone too far asking Phil Hawkins about Hannah. His response about Hannah being “one of those” made me mad at him. But of course… I don't know Hannah and even if everyone spoke of her as a saint, who knows if she really wasn't? I don't know her personally and well… I don't have an opinion about her to know if she is as they say. Best to keep my personal opinion on this. I ask Richy to talk to Phil about what happened since Jessy and Cleo have argued over it. Meanwhile, on the other side of the chat, I read how Dan tries to make it up to Jessy for not going to the bar on the first day of work with dinner at her favorite restaurant. I think Hannah's job was to keep the group together, because from what I see, they don't stop arguing. "Why do I feel like a babysitter?" I wonder planting my head on the desk. “Someone bothering you?” Aiden approaches from behind. Unlike Jake, I have managed to hear his footsteps. "Problems between friends" I answered without giving it much importance ", never choose a side, it's better to stay neutral." "Sounds kind of annoying," he tells me, sitting down at my table. "Why do you have friends who fight?" "There's been a bit of tension lately, don't worry." "As long as they don't get you in trouble, I think I'll be cool." He really tries. He has a nice smile, but it doesn't quite match Jake's. "You okay? You have turned red." "Oh! Maybe it's because your smile has impressed me." I lie, I thought of Jake. He blushes letting out a laugh, but nervous. He looks like he has worked. I just hope it doesn't make me look like a horrible woman. “Do you want to eat together today?” His voice is tender in the ear. He is totally the typical love interest of any Disney Channel movie. "I'll see if I can Aiden " I answered, placing my desk a little ", lately I have a lot of work and at lunchtime I focus on getting ahead of a little work." "You should rest a bit" he sighs, shaking his head ", it's not good to accumulate so much work." "Thank you for worrying." At the moment I'm fine, I don't need to rest Today Jake is wearing a black T-shirt and that's when I realize that it seems to be special sports shirts. I guess he wears them for when he sweats running, would make sense. "I brought dessert this time." I say taking everything out of the bag. "But this time I didn't do it, I still haven't learned how to make desserts and I think… Well, it's better that I never do it." "You don't know how to cook sweets?" Jake asks me as he leans against the counter. "No, I would probably eat half the ingredients before starting." He chuckles and I smile at him. “I don't think it's good to eat too much sugar.” he says with a sigh. "Well, it's not good to have too much caffeine either." I countered. He rolls his eyes with an annoyed noise and I laugh. We are both equal in addictions. "I know what the photo is," I say, leaving him heating up the food. "It is the sing of the raven." "Does that have something to do with the legend that you mentioned?" "I’m actually sure of it." "I am going to sit back on this one and put in your hands." Mister 'I don't like legends' leaves me with the job, perfect. "I appreciate that." "I would suggest showing the picture to your friends." "I know what to do." "Ok, very well then." I pick up my phone and hit the 'Legends of Duskwood' group, sending the photo to Jessy and Richy to discuss the photo. *Jake POV*

The fact that she likes legends is a point in favor that she can see everything from two different perspectives. I read the conversation while I eat. The friendship between Jessy and Macie seems good, she has done well to get someone in the group to have good confidence, and with her she can get information from her. Richy seems a little skeptical of her, I was a little annoyed that he said he liked Macie and she told him that she likes her, why did he do it? It doesn't seem like she shows interest in him, rather the opposite.

Macie looks focused as she talks on the phone, her expression distracting me from the screen. Also, she gets so distracted talking that she still hasn't eaten. "Your food is going to get cold." I say somewhat worried. “Yes, daddy." I nearly choked on my food hearing it. I see how she smiles without looking up from the screen, she really likes to make me nervous. I see Richy's last words, that the image has been achieved thanks to me. It seems rather doubtful about my involvement in all this. "He really doesn't like you" Macie looks at me somewhat uncomfortable "I'm so sorry..." "Well, I'm not interested in being his friend either, I'm just investigating Hannah's disappearance," I reply without much importance. "It's also not like I like Richard too." "Richard?" "That's his name." "Well, yes, but…" I see her make faces, as if she were holding back her laughter. "What's the matter?" “No, nothing." I watch her trying to figure out what she's thinking. It's hard for me, but has she noticed? Will she know that upset me? "Cat or dog?" she asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I imagine she does it to get information about me. Likewise, I have never had the opportunity to have pets, so I cannot answer in a specific way. “I guess cats.” I reply. "Let me guess, because you wouldn't have to leave the house and be on the computer all the time?" She laughs. "I could also say dogs and thus race the two of us together." "Oh, how cute..." "I know what you're trying to do," I point at her with the cutlery and she blinks, "you love to ask me unimportant questions and then get information out of me." Her smile is mischievous. I think I did wrong to say it. "Do you pay attention to my methods?" "I pay attention to everything you do." I answered quickly. Why did I say that? Maybe she'll think I'm weird. Macie doesn't answer me, on the contrary, I see a slight blush on her cheeks and she continues eating in silence. I walk her to the door when we finish eating dessert. Macie puts her hand on the doorknob, but she looks at me before leaving. “Favorite movie?” she asks me. “What?” “I'm not asking you something personal, Jake.” she tells me, annoyed ”Favorite movie.” I keep thinking for a moment. There are several movies that I like, now I don't know how to choose one. “I don't have any in particular.” I says, still thinking. ”Let's say 'Legend' works for you?” “'Legend', written down” She laughs ”, a bit ironic, don't you think?” "Will you ever stop laughing at me?" “I'm not laughing at you, I find it funny” I sigh bringing my hand to my face and she continues ”The man who doesn't believe in legends, like the movie 'Legend'.” "They're clearly two different things," I replied, crossing my arms. "Why do you want to know?" "Nothing." Her smile of hers makes me feel warmth through my body. I control myself not to tell her to stay a little longer. I know that she has a life behind this apartment. “See you soon Macie.” I say finally, squeezing my hand tight. "See you soon, Jake." She opens the door, walking out with a smile. The house is silent without her. I shouldn't get used to this, but the more I think about her, the more I want her to stay. She would never accept me if she knew the truth.

I look at all the clues so far, trying to come up with my own theories, but the more I think about it, the more my thoughts end up with her.

I imagine her writing new tracks, I can't read them, but when she turns around, she flashes me a smile. When she leaves, it is the smell of her perfume that stays. She makes it worse. She makes me drunk. She makes me unable to get her out of my head. It's like a spell, as ridiculous as it sounds since I don't believe in such nonsense, but it's like she has a spell on me. It's strange, despite the fact that I already had a girlfriend in the past, this feeling is totally different. As if she has completely gotten inside me and I can't let go or rather, I don't want to. But I know that one day I will have to. << It does not work. It would not work. It will never work>> These are the rules I tell myself to remind myself not to think about Macie.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work. As night falls, I see a chat jump between Jessy and Macie. I hope there is new information. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jessy Aaah, I need urgently your help 😩

Macie Now? I was watching a movie 🥺

Jessy Please 🙏

Macie Ok Jessy ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sends her two photos of her in different clothes and I find out it's for her date with Dan.

I get more upset when Jessica tells her to have a virtual date, what is she about? Macie doesn't seem to want to because of how he responds, but she agrees to talk to her if she doesn't want to go out with the guy she's dating. It doesn't seem like Jessica knows about personal space even on the phone. Macie takes time to answer because she's watching the movie, I wonder what she's watching. "It won't be… ” I'm tempted to activate her rear cell phone camera and see if it's the one I told her this afternoon. I watch the program for a while. No... I respect her privacy. If Macie finds out that I've also been spying on her on camera, I'll lose all her trust and she might hate me. Later she has another conversation with Dan. Another one who wants to ask Macie out for a drink. Why is everyone so interested in her now? Just because Jessica stood you up doesn't mean you have to replace her, Daniel and in your drunken state, I wouldn't let you near her. <<Well, it's Macie who should decide, right?>>

The conversation continues and Macie manages to get him to talk. Apparently Thomas thinks Hannah was cheating on him with someone who gave her a bracelet with the initials J.H. I smiled proudly as he read the initials. "Jessica Hawkins." Part of me is wishing she was the kidnapper, it's too suspicious of her, her behavior so friendly with Macie. I'm sure she's hiding something. She is our culprit. "You can't hide anymore, we got you."

And this desire for Jessica to be the kidnapper isn't fueled by jealousy.

Chapter 12

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

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ardent-fox · 1 year

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Galladads Headcanon

This was written as the result of the wonderful and talented Jessie (@metalheadmickey) leaving their complimentary tags on my last Galladrabble. Thanks for all the support, love! 🖤

Let me preface this by saying I've never posted one of these before, so I hope I possess the logical skills required to write a sensical one. Also, warning: major OC dabbling and sappiness ahead.

I've got many different headcanons regarding Ian and Mickey possibly having children, ranging from them never having them cause Mickey decides he really doesn't want them (which I think is a perfectly valid option), to them somehow managing to foster/adopt kids, to them finding a way of having biological children. Since the idea of their DNA being passed on is the most interesting option in my opinion, I started thinking about what that would entail and quickly got swept up in it, as it so often happens to me.

So, once they decide they are ready to have kids and that they'd like to ideally have two half-siblings, they set out on a search for a surrogate with the idea of each of them providing a sample when their time comes. Mickey thinks Ian should do it the first time around, still a bit apprehensive and wanting to see how the whole thing pans out before he does the same, and Ian is more than eager to do so. They end up having a gorgeous red-headed baby girl, and after they find out they can rock the parenting thing, she's joined by her dark-haired, blue-eyed sister three years later.

They give them gender-neutral names (haven't spent a lot of time on this particular detail but let's call the older one Laurie and the younger one Sasha, since both names relate to Mickey) and raise them in a completely open and honest way, lots of affection and encouraging them to be their own people, express themselves any and every way they like. Little did they know that their daughters would grow up to be two completely different, yet equally awesome people.

Laurie proves to be very gentle-mannered from day one, a sensitive soul that likes books and lives more inside her head than in the real world. Like Ian, she has a great desire to take care of people and is a very passionate person underneath it all, which pushes her past her own insecurities and has her joining things like the debate team when she gets older, as well as sports teams to release any pent-up frustrations she might not have dealt with, exploring herself further through her interests. She's often unaware of how capable she is and can be very self-critical, which is something her dads pick up on very early and try to give her extra support in that area. Besides them, she is the closest to her uncle Liam, which she sees more as a cousin since he is 12 years older than her, and often goes to him for advice. Like Liam, she ends up being the first in her family to graduate high school and finish college, making them the only two Gallaghers who have accomplished this. She's also the only heterosexual member of her family and ends up meeting a guy that Ian and Mickey are skeptical about at first, knowing how loving and eager to please she is and hoping this dude respects her. They give the guy a hard time at first, but he turns out to be a good person, and Laurie ultimately ends up in a happy marriage, working in the education system and having kids of her own, making Ian and Mickey grandparents.

Sasha is the complete opposite, a wild-card with a heart of gold. She doesn't care about school that much and is incredibly creative and outspoken with no middle ground, either drawing and creating things or running around like the hyper kid she is. Even though she is incredibly bright, her high IQ makes her bored with things quite easily, and her dads have to actively work with her to make sure she finishes her tasks and keeps certain goals in mind. Throughout her life, she has never fully seen herself as a girl and ends up connecting with cousin Franny the most because of this, who is 10 years her senior and ultimately comes out as trans. As Sasha grows older, she starts exploring androgyny and ultimately figures out that she is gender-fluid, adopting they/them pronouns and also coming out as pansexual, happy to come from a family that supports all that they are. Like Mickey, they also have a passion for tattoos as well as piercings and end up getting a job at one of the shops fresh out of high school, eventually moving out of the family home and happily living their life however the fuck they want. Despite their different demeanor, Laurie and Sasha remain close well into adulthood, balancing each other's strengths and weaknesses quite well, their conflicts not ranging further than the typical teenage drama.

Throughout their lives, the kids share some interests with their dads as well. They all like rock/punk/heavy metal music, along with some evergreens that Ian likes to play and the occasional kids' pop bop. As a result, they frequently go to concerts together as a family, and are constantly walking around the house in matching band shirts due to this, Lip often joking that they're in a cult when he comes over. Speaking of Lip and matching outfits, when the kids were little, Ian and Tami always made sure to color coordinate their outfits and snap a few photos of Laurie and Sasha with their cousins in early December, then send it to Fiona as a Christmas card when they knew she wouldn't be able to make it to them from Florida for the holidays. Even though Laurie and Sasha grow up with a lot of aunts and uncles who love them dearly, their favorite by far is aunt Mandy, who absolutely adores them and either spoils them with the best gifts when she visits, or takes them on lavish week-long trips whenever their schedules coordinate, giving Ian and Mickey some much needed alone time.

Despite all the challenges that parenting brings, having children turns out to be the right decision for Ian and Mickey, and they inevitably learn a lot about themselves and grow as people in the process. They vow to give their kids everything they lacked in their own childhood from the very start, often wondering how they themselves would have turned out if they had parents who brought out their full potential, but figuring they're both doing okay in spite of that. Mickey ends up especially surprised at how well he handles the role of a dad, finding a sense of safety in the familial dynamic he never had, enveloped in the love he now gets to revel in from not one, but three people. As their kids grow and begin to better understand their parents, they return the care right back to them, Laurie encouraging both Ian and Mickey to get their GEDs and Sasha giving Mickey that extra shove to get the piercings he always wanted, reminding them that self-improvement and self-expression never ends, much like their love for one another.

That's all I got for now, I hope you enjoyed this little sap-fest! 😅💙

#listen. i know that mickey was technically a dad once already even though we don't know for sure if yev was his #i can see him possibly having a relationship with him after he gets therapy as i assume yev's existence might be traumatic for mickey #don't think he would necessarily mind yev reaching out to him later and ian would jump at the chance of having a relationship with him #also adoption or not i always see these two (starting out) with daughters and i don't really know why #maybe because mickey would want his new life to be the complete opposite of his old one? maybe cause they fit them better? idk #but dabbling in oc territory for this was a lot of fun and something i might consider in the future #anyway welcome to my first headcanon #which my spouse is probably relieved i'm writing here instead of talking his ears off with them #so posting them here is at least benefiting one person 🙃#gallavich #headcanon #gallavich headcanon #galladads #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #original characters #ocs #shameless

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alittlecloud22 · 4 months

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The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

In recent years, it has become my tradition to reread "The Secret Garden" on New Year's Day. Sometimes, I read the entire book from cover to cover, while other times I simply revisit my favorite passages. Throughout my reading life, it is rare to encounter a book that portrays the healing of wounds in such a simple yet profound manner, as Frances Hodgson Burnett achieved in this children classic. Equally remarkable is the book's depiction of separation and reconciliation, embodied by the rejuvenation of the garden that young Mary has discovered following the trace of a robin while exploring her uncle's grand estate. Each time I close the book, I am overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions.

The Secret Garden follows the journey of Mary Lennox, a young girl from India, who becomes an orphan due to a devastating cholera outbreak. She is sent to live with her reclusive uncle at Misselthwaite Manor in Yorkshire, England. It is within the confines of this manor that Mary stumbles upon a neglected garden, sparking a deep determination within her to restore its former glory. With the aid of her cousin Colin and a local boy named Dickon, the garden becomes a catalyst for personal growth and healing. Mary develops kindness and compassion, while Colin gains strength and confidence.

This beloved tale beautifully exemplifies a coming-of-age story, known as a bildungsroman. Throughout the book, our central characters undergo a transformative journey, encountering trials and tribulations that ultimately shape their growth and self-realization. For Mary and Colin, this entails embracing the beauty and goodness that surrounds them, as well as learning how to construct something meaningful out of life's smallest fragments. Archibald Craven, on the other hand, finds solace in the garden, learning to let go of past sorrows and rekindle hope for the future. Naturally, each reader will discover their own personal meanings and lessons by immersing themselves in the characters' transformations. Frances Hodgson Burnett has bestowed upon us a treasure trove of simple yet profound wisdom.

"Magic" is a recurring theme throughout The Secret Garden. I distinctly recall a conversation between Mary Lennox and the gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, during which he imparts his wisdom about the garden and life to the aloof and irritable Mary. Initially, "magic" seemed akin to something found only in fairy tales, as described by the old man. However, as the story unfolds, we come to realize that it is not an abstract concept but rather the embodiment of human love. It manifests in various forms: through empathy for the misfortunes of others, through a deep appreciation for nature and the wonders of life, through an enchantment with life's inherent beauty, and through an unwavering belief in a brighter future, even in the face of past scars and hardships.

It is my sincere hope that through the beauty of The Secret Garden, each reader will discover their own touch of magic, igniting a fresh journey filled with renewed hope and unwavering faith in the boundless possibilities that lie ahead.

Everything is made out of Magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden - in all the places.

#alittlecloud22 #january 2024 #beginnings #the secret garden #frances hodgson burnett

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lemony-snickers · 1 year

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Seedlings for Kakashi and female reader please (this is PF and I’ve been going through it lately and my own kakarisa rambles aren’t making me feel better so I would really appreciate it <3 (not that I’m asking for kakaoc that’s too much of an ask) (equally if you have too many for this request that’s completely fine) 🌸🌸🌸

hey, @pfreadsandwrites it's never too much to ask for that <3

Risa glares down at the patch of ill-tended earth before her. Attempting to garden had clearly been a mistake, but she's too deep in it, now, and so she forges ahead, scraping her small trowel into the dirt as she thins a row of carrots.

She only hopes her brother will eventually forgive her for so completely demolishing the delicate plants he gifted her a few weeks ago.

"Who brings seeds back from a mission, anyway?" she wonders, shaking her head.

Risa's wide brimmed hat shades her face as she kneels in the small makeshift garden bed she constructed, the rich smell of damp soil mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass drifting from someone's yard nearby. She sneezes, wiping carefully at her nose with her sleeve to avoid smearing dirt across her face.

She's glad for the gardening gloves Zekuu delivered with the seedlings, at least. She can't imagine how her nails would fare against her new hobby without them.

She sighs, letting her eyes drift from the terribly limp-looking stalks of her meager future harvest to the hutch where her two rabbits sit happily nibbling on the greens she left for them when she first came outside.

"It would be nice to grow food for them," she mutters.

But any hope Risa might have for a hearty yield of veggies has likely already been dashed for the season. Maybe next year.

As she stands to brush herself off, the wind changes swiftly, lifting Risa's sunhat off her head. She chases it a few steps, but gives up rather quickly, frowning.

She should have ditched the gardening for a book about tending vegetables instead.

With her hat gone, Risa realizes the sun has disappeared behind a set of rather ominous-looking clouds and she scrambles to gather her tools and return her rabbits inside before it rains.

She's much more comforable once she's back in her kitchen, a cup of tea in hand as she stands by a window, watching drops of rain chase one another over the glass pane. With how hard it's coming down, Risa imagines whatever persistent plants might have perservered under her inept (and definitely not green) thumb are likely being pummeled into oblivion.

At least she can blame the garden's failure on Konoha's irate weather patterns instead of her own lack of skill if anyone asks.

She's about to go find a book to occupy the rest of her rainy day when there is a soft knock on her door. Not expecting company, she walks cautiously over, confused.

"Who is it?" she calls, leaning close to the wood so she can listen for a response.

"I have your hat."

Risa tugs her lip between her teeth, all her garden woes suddenly forgotten when she hears Kakashi's voice emanating from the other side of the door.

She yanks it open perhaps a little too quickly, already smiling.

And there stands Kakashi Hatake, soaked to the skin, holding a sodden and slightly trampled sunhat in his hands.

Risa tries not to laugh, but a slight giggle escapes her, anyway. "Forget an umbrella?" she asks.

Chuckling, Kakashi steps over the threshold, careful not to step too far inside while he's still dripping. He holds her hat out to her, "I thought maybe this would keep me dry, but it turns out it's much better suited to sunshine than a downpour."

Risa, still smiling, sets the hat aside and turns toward her bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be right back with a towel."

Once Kakashi is sufficiently dry, Risa offers to make him a cup of tea and he joins her in the kitchen, peering out through the rain-slick window at her unimpressive garden bed.

"I take it they haven't quite adjusted to your unique gardening style," he teases.

"Stop," Risa says, offering him a steaming mug, "I tried so hard not to kill them, but I think they were beyond saving even before they drowned."

Kakashi chuckles, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on Risa's nose.

"I'm sure I could ask Tenzo for some help. He's much better with plants than I am."

Risa shakes her head. "No, it's fine. If I kill them, I kill them. It's not like I asked Zekuu to give them to me, he had to know the risks."

That doesn't mean he won't mercilessly tease her over the failure, but she has no doubt he'd find something to tease her for, regardless.

Still, she frowns as she stares out at the little patch of dirt, lamenting the pools of water already collected between her careful lines of snap peas and butter lettuce.

When Kakashi's arms wrap around her waist from behind, Risa startles a little, but he catches her cup before she can spill tea all over herself before resting his chin on her shoulder to watch the rain with her.

"Once the weather clears up, I can rig a tarp over it so it won't flood again. And I'll bring Tenzo over in a few days to see if there's any way to salvage the harvest."

Risa turns in his grasp just enough to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she says.

She doesn't really care all that much about the garden, but knowing Kakashi cares enough to help her make it a success means the world.

Maybe she'll make a stop at the library once it stops raining to check out the garening section. She can't be the only hopeless novice who's ever tried to raise crops in their backyard.

For now, though, standing in Kakashi's embrace, quietly enjoying a rainy afternoon, is all Risa cares about.

#kakaoc #kakaoc fanfiction #oc: risa #i hope i did her justice pf <3 #pfreadsandwrites #lemony scribbles #april 🌧️ lem 💐#so i will be honest idk where risa lives exactly a;sdlkfjasdf so i just sort of made up some stuff there but i hope this is okay anyway

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howthesleeplesswander · 9 months

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There is nothing more wholly asinine and laughable than this. Nothing The Balladeer would rather avoid than giving this complete moron any more attention, any more of a reason to fluff his feathers. To feel... important.

But this was a problem mostly in himself, wasn't it? Childe had become important. Horribly, disgustingly, devastatingly important.

And when someone managed to wriggle their way into that position, apparently that meant giving a damn about these trivial, utterly foolish things.

Ugh. Kill him.

Scaramouche despises the amount of thought he's put into this. As equally as he despises that his conclusion is so stupidly simple. So when Childe rounds that turn in the winding paths of the Sumeru forest, he leaps into action without missing a beat (beyond, perhaps, a quiet sigh).

From a thick branch in an even thicker tree, he descends with a charged orb of Electro nested in his palm. Scaramouche unleashes it at his target with a sharp flick of his wrist, lands in the brush several lengths ahead of him with a soft thud.

Childe will dodge it. This, Scaramouche knows in confidence. And if he doesn't? Just as well.

"I heard today's a special day of some sort," he crows as he rises to his feet. The Balladeer looks at the oaf who cursed this world on such a day so many years ago, gaze sparkling with challenge, expectation—the things he allows it to show that veil absolutely everything else. As if in promise, his fingers flutter in the air beside him, sparks bounding between thin digits. "Supposedly, that means we ought to make it something memorable. What do you think?"

// ... h-happy... birthday, childe??? Enjoy some roughhousing and sparring with your tiny bf ??? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (but also we love the precious boy and hope he has a wonderful day! ;w;)

Answered! || @balladccr

((ahHHH his tiny bf knew exactly what he'd want for his bday!! 😭 just a casual, loving duel between boyfs asfjlkds SUCH DORKS 🥺❤️))

This was the first birthday he'd spent in Sumeru.

He made a point to return home for his siblings' birthdays when he could. (Or, at the very least, to send them something extravagant—ordering his subordinates to deliver gifts to his family's doorstep as soon as the sun rose on the exact day being celebrated.) He couldn't always manage a visit for his own birthday, but for them? It didn't matter how far he was from Snezhnaya or how urgent his current orders may be.

All the time, effort, planning...it was always worth it. That's simply what one did for the people who were most important.

Despite being far from home for his birthday this year, Childe found himself missing his family less than usual. Deep down, even his Abyss-tainted heart knew exactly why:

He was still spending it with one of those most important people.

Ugh. Just the thought made him want to kill something.

As if on cue, a rustle from the treetops drew his attention just as an orb of Electro hurtled towards him. In one fluid motion, he rolled sideways, summoned his bow in a burst of water, and sprung back to his feet. The foliage around him shook as the sphere struck the ground a few feet away.

The attack was familiar by now. He knew exactly who his "assailant" was before he straightened to face Scaramouche looming (as much as the pipsqueak could) further along the path. When their eyes locked, his own filled with glee.

"Oh, really? Where did you hear that?" Childe didn't recall telling the Sixth that particular detail, but even if he had...Heh, well wasn't it cute of him to actually remember? The promise of a fight ignited his veins in the best way—drowning out the giddy, budding warmth of something far softer that frothed underneath. "You think you've got what it takes to leave that kind of impression?" he challenged, grin curling wide. "Go ahead and try!"

No further warning given, an arrow materialized knocked and ready, and Childe fired upon his target before leaping forward, following in the arrow's wake with blades held high.

#《⭒✩⭒ || answered ask 》#《⭒✩⭒ || interaction: child of the abyss (childe) 》#balladccr #《⭒✩⭒ || bond: if i woke up with you in the morning i'd forget all the ways that we're broken (balladccr) 》#AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS MY DARLIIING #it was such a delight to read and respond to! ;w;/#YOU AND SCARA ARE BOTH SO SWEET I CRY TTOTT ❤️#asdfajdk i'm forever cackling over how these two both KNOW how much they care about each other #and yet they constantly act SO MAD ABOUT IT X'D #don't pretend you both aren't glad your feelings are mutual #WE KNOW THE TRUTH #he'd never admit it but childe is glad to be spending his bday with scara ;;/#i wanted to post this yesterday before i was busy in the evening but SINCE I HAD NO POWER 😤#how dare the bad weather keep childe from enjoying his special boy's present #but ahhh thanks again for this bby!! >W< it was so thoughtful of you and made my day! <333

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redmoonwanderer · 7 months

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FFXIV Write 2023, Day 30 Prompt: Amity Mild(ish?) spoilers all the way to EW.

It can be hard to trust again those who go to the shadows again and again and still beg for forgiveness, offering an explanation full well knowing it may not be accepted

(but Qhol’a listens, and forgives. It’s hard not to, when there are times Urianger risks himself to keep his friend standing a little longer; when he offers such insight in battle and outside, to help them towards victory)

and it’s hard to find a friend in someone who constantly places himself beneath and behind someone; hoping for friendship and trust both despite endangering everyone while keeping his reasons and face in the shadows

(but Qhol’a holds on to hope that one day G’raha will realise his place, as all Qhol’a’s friends’, is by his side as an equal. It will take time to forgive his deceit, but to see the once reserved man be again filled with energy and curiosity, genuine joy, Qhol’a knows he’ll find it in himself, one day.)

just as it is hard to find patience with someone who has yet not seen the life outside, the cruelty of it, but also the true joy that surviving hardships can bring. When one thinks ideals alone will be enough to shape the world, it’s almost frightening to wait for the moment that image shatters

(but shatter it does, and Alphinaud realises that good intentions aren’t always enough, and sometimes hard work doesn’t pay off the way he’d hoped. Qhol’a is incredibly proud of the growth he’s been given the chance to witness, and he knows only patience will allow this youngling to bloom.)

and see how the world you once thought you knew is reshaped: friends turned to enemies, enemies to friends, as the illusions lift and reveal truths long since buried. What can someone do when who they were was built on falsehoods, so as not to break, themselves

(but rebuild himself Estinien does. When the world no longer needs the man he was, he leaves not to disappear but to remake himself just enough to match the truth while keeping the rest of the pieces as they always have been. He may pretend to be the lone wolf still, but Qhol’a knows whom to expect the moment his own image threatens to shatter under new weights.)

and when they have to choose between experiencing the world around and a long life with loved ones? How can one value one more than the other when new things greet you with such a feeling of wonder, and most all you can learn is on the pages of tomes from long ago to this day; when those by your side are your life

(but it’s a choice Y’shtola makes. Sometimes Qhol’a wonders if it’s actually for her friends that she channels her own aether to see, in her own, unique way but see nonetheless. She could’ve chosen otherwise, not shortening her own life, but also not delve with them to the deepest dungeons and soar to worlds beyond without losing years to practice; chosen to miss on travelling side by side. Such dedication to what matters, he cannot but appreciate.)

and are all that matters. And how can one expect to be welcomed when they allow themselves to be turned against those loved ones? To be there to pave the road to their destruction? Is there a way to earn forgiveness after that? Is it found in going ahead no more in shadows but for all to see, so others will never be struck again

(but there is no need for such things. When Qhol’a approached Thancred after the fight against Ultima, against Lahabrea, with a warm drink and a heavy blanket, it’s not to say “I forgive you.” When he gives the man the tea, wraps the blanket around his shoulder and sits next to him, leaning on him so he can feel again, it is to say, “I still trust you.” After Zenos steals Qhol’a’s body, Thancred comes to him with tea and a blanket, before leaning against him. No words are needed.)

or is the answer in getting stronger? To grow with each step, run to catch up to the one you so look up to, despite knowing you might not catch up? But is there any point in reaching for something you cannot have? To look at the world and take the risk of being disappointed when you fall and lose; should one still hold on to hope

(but she does. Alisaie is nothing if not stubborn, and when that means that she finds a way to rescue not only a child she looked at the stars with, but countless others, its proof enough. When she hesitates, Qhol’a is always there to remind her that she has done incredible things: not just helped someone else achieve it, but been at the lead. And the rivalry? Qhol’a will never stop moving as long as she’s there to catch up.)

that in the end, all will be well?

Journeys are long things, and poses many questions for one to ponder. Sometimes, Qhol’a finds the answers scattered on his path, and there are answers that he didn’t even know he was looking for.

Other times, however, what he finds are not for him, but for those around him: the ones he’s gathered to stand with him in sun and storm. Answers to their problems, new ways to see the world and themselves, picked up by one man.

Of course, the same can be said for his friends: without them, there are a great many things he would’ve never found. It’s a little miracle that works only when it works both ways, friendship.

The warm thing that you hope to never let go of.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #writing tag #and so it ends!#somehow I made it through all prompts despite having my doubts #and yet again the ending was a rather nice one :D #I mean sure this needs a lot of editing but as it is #it's good enough

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llewelynpritch · 1 year

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https://lnkd.in/df-GkYwr 'PUTIN SET OUT TO MAKE SURE THIS STORY WAS NEVER TOLD' As he plays the murdered spy in a new drama, the actor and Marina Litvinenko talk corruption, justice and hope. Alexander Litvinenko saw the horror coming, but nobody listened. Known to his family and friends as “Sasha”, the former Federal Security Service (FSB) agent, who was lethally poisoned in London in 2006, apparently by Russian spies, warned of the grave consequences of ignoring the threat posed by President Vladimir Putin.

EXTRACTS

' “In an article he wrote in 2006,” Litvinenko’s widow Marina tells me, “just a few days before he was fatally poisoned, Sasha wrote: ‘If you don’t stop this monster, he will start a war and millions of people will die.’ Now, finally, it is happening.” Sixteen years after Litvinenko’s final warning, the Russian president mounted an unjustified invasion of Ukraine.

Litvinenko, who had exposed Russian corruption before escaping from his homeland with Marina and their young son Anatoly in 2000, was equally prescient in his deathbed message, which directly addressed the president: “You may succeed in silencing one man, but the howl of protest from around the world will reverberate, Mr Putin, in your ears for the rest of your life. May God forgive you for what you have done, not only to me but to beloved Russia and its people.”

This deathbed statement, read by a close friend on the pavement outside University College Hospital moments after the former Russian spy had passed away, is one of many chilling moments in Litvinenko, a new four-part drama that begins on Thursday ... 15 December 2022 ... on ITV’s streaming platform ITVX. Written by Lupin showrunner George Kay, the drama recounts not only the murder, but the subsequent, tireless campaign by his widow to find justice for him.

“The story feels important on a geopolitical scale,” says David Tennant, who stars as Litvinenko, playing him with a kind of rare intensity. “It reveals the terrible truth of what was attempted by this gangster who happens to have all this power. It also shows the wonderful victory – and I use that word advisedly – that exists within this. What Putin set out to do was to make sure this story was never told. So it feels that the most important thing we can do is to tell the story again and again and again because that way, Putin loses.” '

'Ultimately, the focus of Litvineko is Marina’s ceaseless campaign for justice for her murdered husband. Over the last 16 years, she has refused to give up, even though she has been consistently stone-walled by successive British governments that appear to value business interests above human rights.

“Unfortunately,” Smith sighs, “as much as there are bullies in Russia, there are also bullies in this country. The British Government felt unable at times to allow an inquiry to go ahead because they felt like there were bigger interests at play, let’s just say.”

It was the “relentless” determination of Marina and her legal team, he adds, and the “flawless” work from the Metropolitan Police that meant the British Government couldn’t avoid the case any longer. “It became inevitable that there had to be an inquiry and they could no longer ignore what was an absolutely obvious truth.”

In a revelation that will surprise no one, Marina says that over the past 16 years it has been extremely hard to get any sense out of British politicians. “All this time, I’ve tried to talk to politicians. I never expected to be so experienced working with the justice system and with politicians! It was Labour in the beginning, and then it was the Conservatives. I just started to realise that everybody has their own agenda.”

Then, “in 2010 and 11, people started to tell me: ‘Marina, they’re not sure you will have justice in the end because the political climate is different.’ I just couldn’t believe it. How is that possible?”

But she did finally persuade the UK Government to hold a public inquiry in 2016. It decided that the murder of Litvinenko was committed by Lugovoi and Kovtun, probably with Putin’s approval.'

' “I’ve talked to many politicians,” says Marina. “I have respect for some and a lot of critical opinions of others. But I believe they must watch this drama. What’s happening now in Ukraine must change political attitudes. They can’t any more just look for a balance between commercial interest and human lives. That approach needs to end because human lives and human rights are the values of democracy. This is a checkpoint for democracy in the world.”

If the inspiring Marina has one desire for Litvinenko, it would be that it pushes viewers to battle for their own causes. “I’ve heard many times how this story has helped people to fight for their own reasons.”

For all that, she concludes, “this is not only a political story, it’s not only a crime story, it’s a human story. It’s a story of love. It’s a story of hope.”

James Rampton 13 December 2022

#Corruption #Espionage #Assassinations #Poisoning #Power #AlexanderLitvinenko #MarinaLitvinenko #ECHR #Kremlin #VladimirPutin #Russia #UK #London #HumanRights #Love #Respect #GovernmentCoverUps

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demirglass44 · 1 year

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Minecraft shouldn't ever Feel Clingy, Mojang Says

Mojang is still paying attention to the other survival games doing well.

Just before the latest Minecraft 1.19 (opens in new tab) update launched I inquired of Mojang what the future of Minecraft looks like. Game director Agnes Larsson and developer Nir "Ulraf" Vaknin weren't willing to discuss specific features for the next major update. No surprise, they're likely to save that for the next Minecraft Live showcase. Instead, we talked about how they're still learning from other crafting competitors and how they'd like to "keep the excitement of Minecraft" for the next 10 years and beyond.

When Minecraft's beta launched in 2010 it put survival and crafting on the map. A thousand other crafting games later-many also made from voxels-Minecraft remains the gold standard for sandbox creativity. It's not difficult to Mojang to get complacent after having worn the crown many years, I can imagine that they would become solitary and source ideas only from its own developers and players.

Larsson and Vaknin both insisted they wouldn't call Minecraft superior to the others. (I would, though. It's not risky to sound boastful coming from me). They do say they know what makes Minecraft unique and will maintain the uniqueness of Minecraft.

Larsson called it intrinsic motivation. Larsson called it intrinsic motivation.

Vaknin agreed with the assertion that Minecraft's success is due to encouraging players to be self-motivated "A number of games are deviating from that because a lot of players want to be guided, and that's okay."

I've tried all blends of crafting games for survival throughout the years. The most recent one was the viking crafting experience in Valheim that enticed me for a couple months, session-based survival in Icarus for a few weeks and crafting with vampires in V Rising for a couple days. Even Valheim, which was my favorite game for over 100 hours, and which I lobbied for to be the game of 2021 (opens in a new window) has not kept me coming back like Minecraft.

Vaknin said that he's kept up with the competition as well. Like me, he was intrigued in the way food and hunger interact in Valheim. It got me to genuinely consider food as a part of my gear, whereas I felt allowed to not have food systems, or treat all foods as essentially equal-in so many other crafting games, including Minecraft. tecelana "I think about it and wondering if we can learn from that," he says.

Vaknin said that V Rising has a very unique goal and boss tracking system. He also spoke about the need to track bosses throughout the map to locate them. It was like the way you find the End stronghold in Minecraft with the eyes ender.

Vaknin hopes Minecraft will not chase its users even though it can learn from Minecraft.

"Minecraft is really not clingy," is how he said later in our chat and compared it to an old friend who will be there for you even if you choose to leave and return months later.

Minecraft update What's new? Minecraft skins: Minecraft mods beyond vanilla: Spotlight Minecraft seeds. New worlds Minecraft texture packs. Pixelated Minecraft servers. All cheats

Vaknin spoke about a typical experience that is common in the Minecraft community: playing a lot for a few many years ago, then returning every year when the mood strikes. This is exactly how I've dealt with for years and I'm glad that it's a pattern that Mojang feels confident cultivating.

"So many games you play can pull you in a bit too hard and then you don't want to let it end. It's incredible that Minecraft does not do that. It is so important to me that this is maintained."

"One thing that has been added to our core values is that you play Minecraft because you want to, not because you are forced to," Larsson added.

As I start looking ahead to the inevitable announcement of Minecraft version 1.20, it's good to hear that the people in charge are confident enough to keep up with all the most recent trends in survival and crafting without having to chase them.

#tece lana #tecelana

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missgeniality · 3 years

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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!

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