#me pointing at the two characters who got the least amount of screen time: yes i will rotate these ones like rotisserie chickens in my head

[rosswood]

first girl & comic relief

[poisonous-honey]

The Venti Parable

(This is a re-upload: originally posted on UniverseUchu on Feb 25, 2023)

Characters: Venti and The Narrator. The Reader and Stanley have very little presence

Warnings: None really. They enter the zending room if that upsets you, but they barely stay there for long. This is mostly in drabble form and lightly skimmed for errors

This is both the Narrator’s and Venti’s worst nightmare. An omnipotent, self-destructive perfectionist who strives to keep everything self-contained and the ever funky little god of freedom.

Venti is not impressed with this game of choice in the slightest. He had hoped his position in your heart would’ve saved him from the torture some of the others have been put through, but he was unfortunately not given this blessing. He didn’t feel like following this narrator’s every whim, he only wanted to do that with you. He was free to do as he pleases

As you’re talking to the Narrator to convince him, having someone else to narrate for just a few runs would help him with his story (“He can speak! You can get instant feedback!”) Venti sits in the office next to Stanley. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll let Venti play the game in Stanley’s place for a short while, only because you keep incessantly asking.”

“Hey! I am great company. Wouldn’t it at least be nice to have someone else to talk to for a little while?”

“This is the story of a man named Venti”

He sighs and gets up from his position next to Stanley before walking through the office

After what he feels was him being ignored, Venti reaches a fork in the road

“When Venti came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.”

He holds his chin with his hand and closes his eyes, acting as if he was deeply thinking about his next course of action. Of course, he already knew what he'd do as soon as the directions were spewed at him.

“No, I think I'd rather go right.”

Que sighing from above. Quelle Surprise

~~~

After getting told no one would ever love him and having the parable restart, though disoriented, his next objective is to try and see if he could leave the building

He was not a fan of the Narrator and vice versa

His first attempt is to see if he can jump out of any windows

Honestly surprised he managed to fall through one on his first try (or at all, really)

He had a bit of hope that he had escaped the Narrator, but after accidentally breaking the phone and still getting an ending, he highly doubted it.

And he sighed as he was unfortunately proven right, and the Narrator starts to monologue

“What do you think, are you sick of this gag yet?”

Venti didn’t think there was a correct answer, so he just hit yes while smiling cheekily up into the air. At this point he was just trying to be entertaining for his player, but so was the Narrator

“Now would be the time I go on about having ample amounts of opportunities to restart the game, but unfortunately for you, our player is in control of that. Since all I hear is laughter on their end, I'm going to try to make this as miserable as possible, before they reset to help you out.”

As the Narrator started to sing, Venti quickly looked towards the screen in hopes he could get you to reset immediately, but all you did was shrug

How very cruel of you

~~~

After a few more runs, the last of which had Venti falling flat on his face, he decided to see where listening to the narrator got him

The Narrator kept to the script as usual, he was a professional after all, but the light elation in his voice was obvious to the two of you

Venti couldn’t help but mess with him on the way though

The Narrator could feel his temper rising, watching Venti doing literally nothing. Letting out a sigh, he directs his next questions to you. “Did you put him up to this? Be honest with me here, I have— I am extremely skeptical of this entire ordeal.” You laugh as you hear The Narrator’s anger and Venti asking if he wasn’t allowed to simply relax, further upsetting The Narrator. “I’ve done no such thing. Informing either party beforehand would’ve made this far less entertaining.” “So you’re telling me that everyone, but me, is able to see what’s so fascinating about a broom closet? If that’s where you’re getting at, then it’s absolutely wonderful to have confirmation that I am, truly, the smartest person here.” “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Narrator Sir.” “... I refuse to acknowledge this behaviour.”

Finally making it to the end and turning off the mind control machine, every light turns off as The Narrator starts his freedom ending speech

The door slowly opens and Venti can just about feel the wind call to him

Daylight peaks through the opening and grows larger every second as it descends. He can barely wait for the door to fully open and finally be able to see the skies.

As the door comes to a stop on the floor and Venti takes in the view, he finally feels a sense of ease wash over him since he was brought here. The scenery was truly beautiful.

Venti takes his first steps forward onto the grass and as he continues to drown out The Narrator’s dialogue, he figures that maybe this was the reason you brought him here out of all games.

“...- And Venti was happy.”

The Narrator finishes speaking. Venti opens his mouth to actually throw him a genuine compliment - when-

It all fades to black

And within the blink of an eye, he wakes up in the office next to Stanley, who can do nothing but look at him with a reassuring gaze and wave.

Venti just about curls into a ball and cries while Stanley panics and silently frets over him

“That’s the ending you wanted to guide me to...”

“It’s called the ‘Freedom Ending!’ The one true ending for my story that Stanley refuses to cooperate with me on. Surely someone such as yourself understands and is able to appreciate what I’m trying to-”

“On every level of irony, you’ve managed to single-handedly rip away my own freedom with this horrific outcome.”

~~~

Walking through the red door after bamboozling The Narrator long enough, Venti reaches the platform and is quickly stunned at how pretty the light show is

“Right here, see! All I want is to show Stanley, our dear player, and now you, something remarkable. Now tell me. Can you really look at this space and say it’s not truly beautiful?”

Venti giggled before spinning and sitting down. “Why, this room is a poet's dream! The only thing I’d add is nature.”

He sat in the room for a bit longer, just staring at the stars and light show. This is the closest Venti’s gotten to a true place of rest in a while, so he’d like to treasure it a bit more before leaving.

Eventually tearing his eyes away from the sparkles, Venti looks around and realizes the only rooms here are the space room he’s currently in,  and a room with some stairs. Getting up and going over, the narrator panics.

“Hey Venti, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“I’m just looking around. I haven’t seen an exit, so I want to know where the stairs lead.”

“But we haven’t even been here that long a-and there’s nothing over there but stairs, they don’t go anywhere.”

“... It seems I’m in a predicament. Oh, my dear player, where is the exit?”

“Don’t tell him! He’s done nothing but ruin my story time and time again, the least both of you could do is allow me this solace for a little while longer.”

“But I followed your every instruction just before this run!”

All you do is sigh. Maybe you should’ve told Venti not to come here. “... I’m going to begin the game again.”

“But my peace and tranquility!” “But don’t you want to see the proper ending?”

“No, I really don’t and trust me, you won’t want to take the intended ending either.”

~~~

“Player I have to admit, the only difference working with Venti is the constant sass I’ve been receiving in turn. This hasn’t been beneficial in the slightest.”

“Hey! I still gave you plenty of good input you can use!”

“I highly disagree.”

“I beg to differ!”

You had hoped meeting Venti would help The Narrator with some of his issues, but without informing Venti in advance, all they did was annoy each other. Oh well, it was still fun to witness.

“I hope we never meet again.”

“And I hope you learn to enjoy life's intricacies instead of obsessing over the same story over and over… Aaaand that I never have to go through this ever again.”

Venti trusts you with his entire being, he really does, but if you offer him a chance to participate in another game he's going to be asking a lot of questions beforehand

[scryarchives]

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

gojo satoru and himiko nakamura have always been rivals, however, working on the same movie has put himiko at her limits.

my masterlist !

✭ pairings: gojo satoru x oc actor! au

✭ warning: gojo's probably out of character, the ending's rushed as hell. actor au.

✭ author’s note: got sick of this just sitting in my drafts tbh

✭ word count: 1.5k words

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

Himiko hated everything about him. She hated his brilliant blue eyes that glimmered like ocean waves, his charming grin that brought every woman to his knees, and most of all, she hated that he knew how to press every one of her buttons. Every. Single. Time.

At this point, it was well known that the two were rivals in the industry, and it was entertaining for all to see; both actors and fanbases.

And unfortunately, it was during their meeting for a chemistry read that Himiko found out that Gojo Satoru was, a little too eagerly in her opinion, playing the main character. She wouldn’t have minded that fact one bit if it weren’t for the luck she had, scoring her role in the film as his love interest. ‘Quite the dastardly bit of luck,’ she groaned to herself.

She felt her eye twitch as he waltzed into the studio with his cocky smirk as per usual, it was rare to ever see him without it. His circular dark blue sunglasses didn’t hide the mischievous shine in his eyes, and Geto Suguru walked in, his brown eyes grazing over every little detail of the studio. The two were known to never be apart, almost appearing in every film together, with a rare few exceptions.

However, the moment Gojo’s sky-blue eyes met her lilac ones, she knew from the way his smile grew that he wouldn’t be leaving her alone anytime soon.

“If it isn’t little Miss Nakamura!”

“Impale me now,” Himiko sighed, turning to her agent, Chizuru. “Must I work with this… moron?”

Chizuru scrolled through her phone, her thumb flicking the screen, tucking the silky stray strands behind her ear as Himiko’s lilac eyes stabbed into Gojo’s lanky figure, his best friend, another fellow actor with black hair and brown eyes lurking behind him. A click of Chizuru’s tongue was enough to tell Himiko everything.

“Unfortunately, yes…” Chizuru winced, “The movie’s set to be one of the biggest names this year, and if you back out now, it’s going to be a great loss for both your reputation and in terms of revenue. It’s a little late for that in my opinion.”

The shorter woman then leaned closer to Himiko, whispering in the fierce lady’s ear, her voice barely audible over the blasting of the air conditioning, “Besides, as your cousin, I just say go for it. Grit your teeth and bear it – in the end, you’re probably never gonna see his face again.”

Himiko dragged her manicured hand down her face, her black nails softly scratching against the side of her face in irritation, her lilac eyes rolled back at the pesky white-haired man in the room. 

“Bargain for me,” Himiko sighed, crossing her arms as she made her way to the seats where the men all stood around, and she watched Gojo interact with the directors and producers with a ridiculous amount of energy that he could’ve been mistaken for a child in a candy shop, “I’d like a higher pay as compensation for dealing with his stupidity. I’ll add a small percentage to your pay as thanks for handling my nonsense.”

Chizuru sighed, fixing her bun the slightest, pocketing her phone, “You got it, Miss Nakamura. Just don’t try to tear his face off while I’m gone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” The star huffs, hearing her younger cousin leave the room with the ‘click!’ of the studio’s door.

Seeing how much the man-child she despised with a burning sense of rivalry managed to light a fuse of anger in the producer, Utahime Iori; an already well-established actress often known to be patient, amused the lilac-eyed actress. At least she wasn’t the only one who felt a tingling sense of irritation at the sight of Gojo Satoru.

Himiko felt her irritation build as Gojo sauntered his way towards her, his friend watching from the corner of the studio, his arms crossed as he watched Gojo’s antics towards the irked actress.

“Nakamura! Have you watched my latest movie? It’s a box office hit, as per usual,” Gojo smirked, Himiko’s hands on her hips as she raised her eyebrows.

“No, I didn’t watch it. I don’t waste my time on cheap catchphrases and explosion effects, Gojo,” Himiko huffs, Gojo opens his mouth again to say something back, but the clearing of a throat pulls him out as he turns to the blonde man in the room.

Nanami Kento, the director of the whole film, rubbed his temples in annoyance, his baritone voice muttering silent curses at Gojo before beginning with a tone of a sigh.

“Please, Gojo,” Nanami sighed. “Let’s get started on the chemistry read between the both of you.”

Gojo shrugged with a smile, “No objections here!”

Reluctantly, Himiko sat herself at the table, joining the younger director and the thorn in her side. Despite Nanami being younger, she admired him quite a bit, and it was enough to keep her around for the movie – with the exception of the paycheck, of course.

Himiko eyed Gojo’s partner-in-crime, Geto Suguru, as he sat on the couch behind them, her thumb pointing back at Suguru with her voice low towards Nanami, “What’s he doing here?”

“Moral support, ever heard of it, Nakamura?” Gojo smiled over at Himiko with a teasing smile, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry about him, he’s harmless.”

Himiko grimaces, gently pushing Gojo with two of her fingers, Geto snickering from behind them in amusement. He could clearly see why his best friend liked to irritate her, and she made it all the more fun by not lashing out like Utahime does. Her annoyance with Gojo’s antics was like a pressure cooker, building up until it exploded.

“Now, we’ll be recording this whole session,” Nanami spoke, dismissing Gojo’s antics, “We’ll let you know when we start rolling the cameras. I assume you both have memorised your lines?”

“Of course, who do you think we are, amateurs?” Gojo chuckled, not missing the way Nanami rolled his eyes.

“Then we’ll start in three… two… action.”

Himiko takes a deep breath before turning to Gojo, running her hand through her hair, getting into character, her expression morphing the moment her eyes meet Gojo’s.

He can almost feel his heart wrench with the hurt in her eyes, and he sees exactly why she’s made it as far as she has as a rising actress. The crack in her voice really sells it all for him.

“So what now?” She whispers, her eyes filled with betrayal and ruin, “You’re just gonna take off and leave me alone again?”

Tears began to appear in her eyes, and Gojo felt his heart lurch seeing her pretty lilac eyes all glossy and shiny, tears falling from her eyes that glimmered like amethysts. His hands reached up to touch her cheeks, his expression softening into a matching one of heartbreak.

“Baby, that’s… that’s not it at all,” He shakes his head, his voice soft. “I promise, I promise I’ll come back. I could never leave you, not even if I tried.”

“Then stay.”

Gojo couldn’t tell if it was the way she leaned into his palm when she said it, or if it was her watery amethyst eyes, but it made a knot grow in his stomach. He tucks her ebony hair behind her ear, cupping her cheeks as his thumb swipes over her waterline.

“I’ll stay,” He whispered, “Just for tonight. Just for tonight, I’m yours.”

“I don’t want it to be just for tonight,” Her hand clasped his, tearing it away from her face as she entwined her fingers with his, “I want to be by your side as long as you’ll have me, whether it’s for months or years.”

Himiko’s heart fluttered like a bird in her chest having Gojo’s blue eyes staring so intently at her, so gently, as though just the slightest touch of his fingers would break her.

She couldn’t deny that he was attractive, it was a worldwide fact at this point – however, Himiko refused to boost Gojo’s ego further, even if she couldn’t help the pink blush that grew on her cheeks as Gojo’s face neared hers.

“Then I guess we’re stuck together for a long time,” He cupped her cheeks again, leaning down to gently press his forehead on hers. Himiko’s breathing hitched as he softly placed his lips on hers.

She felt her eyes slowly close and her lips glide over his soft ones, their kiss soft and gentle, and she felt herself get lost in his touch, letting herself lean into his touch as he still cupped her face.

“And, that’s a wrap,” Nanami called out, the two actors pulling away, Himiko’s cheeks dusted with a warm shade of pink as her frown returned, clearing her throat into her fist. She could feel Satoru’s eyes on the back of her neck as she turned back to Nanami, smiling at him as she put on her façade of confidence.

Utahime’s was one of disgust, but really, when was she ever not disgusted at Gojo?

“That concludes today’s session, so you’re both free to go. Thank you,” The blonde-haired man curtly nodded his head. He didn’t say much, only turning to Utahime as the two began to talk in hushed whispers, Geto lingering around as Himiko dashed out, Gojo following hot on her trail.

Neither began to question why they returned on set a few weeks later, holding hands, and a scarf around Himiko’s neck despite the warm weather.

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki @sad-darksoul @yunymphs @cindol @rrairey @yurislotusgarden @kesshavx

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[existslikepristin]

Little later than expected because I feel like shiiit. And, I know. "What's new?" But at the moment I mean physically. Regardless, here's ya dang story:

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, poor game design

(Story Index)

Figure the app out

“Well,” you say with a sigh, “I can’t read any ancient languages, so can you just help me out here?”

“Oh duh. Sorry about that, master. Old habits die hard, even if said habits are a few millennia old. We’re currently speaking… ah, yes! English! Easy peezy squeezy my buttcheeks. There you go.”

You look at your phone again. The mass of text bubbles all over the screen are now written in English. It’s still… a lot of nonsense.

“Just point me to the important parts?”

“Of course! Let’s just make you a little more comfortable.”

By the time she finishes the sentence, you’re in your room, sitting on the edge of your bed with Joy pressing her chest into your back. She reaches over your shoulders and speaks softly into your ear as she taps your phone.

“So here we have your Harem Hub, which is where you’ll be spending a decent amount of time swapping back and forth between screens. Where you’ll be spending most of your time…”

Joy touches an image of a tower with gold coins spilling out of it.

“… is here, in your Inventory—it’s called that because you own the people in your harem like they’re inanimate possessions—, where you can organize, sort, search, and summon the members of your harem as desired. As you can see, it’s currently empty, so let’s go back to the Harem Hub.”

While Joy pokes around with one hand, the other is softly rubbing your shoulder. It’s quite relaxing. Come to think of it, you are a little tired.

“Right in the center of the Harem Hub is the Summoning Portal, which summons anime girls to your Inventory, not into the real world, which is a different kind of summoning. Let’s give it a try now and see who you get!”

Before you can do anything yourself, Joy taps the portal and the app begins a series of over the top animations of overlapping summoning circles and colorful overlays. About fifteen seconds later, a naked anime girl with a pitch black hime haircut, nearly black eyes, and rather small breasts flashes on screen. She looks like pretty much every other anime character being drawn these days.

Joy gasps very dramatically, “Oh my gosh, master! You got Anecha on your first try! But she… she’s a Super Rare! You only had a zero point three percent chance of that happening! She’s from the mythical land of Sorgania, and she’s a hybrid of all three class archetypes, able to spec into any skill tree you want! She’s one of—if not the—most versatile girls you can get!”

“That’s cool,” you mutter, “Can we summon her and get fucking?”

“Oh master, you’re so funny. You can’t summon a character naked.”

“But, the whole point is to have sex with her…”

“Well yeah, but when you’re not having sex with her, she’s going to be questing! We’ll get to that in a minute. First, check it out. She was just the rarest of your summons for this pull,” Joy wraps her legs around you, fully bear hugging you from behind while she yammers on, “You also got Heyri, Emi, Bonnie, and Magz. That will make for a pretty balanced party, though you can expect Anecha to handle basically everything on her own until you get to World 4, at least. Obviously though, we need to go back to tow—I mean the Harem Hub to purchase some basic equipment. No, not that shop. That’s the cash shop where you can get more summoning shards. Right here, at the Blacksmith. You’ll want to equip Anecha first to make the first few quests as easy as possible, and you’ve got all these coins ready to go, so… Oh, fantastic! Tim has lava katanas in stock, so we absolutely have to take advantage of that in the next two minutes. We better make sure some of your other girls can benefit from those stats though, so if we check the party status screen you can see their preferred stats are highlighted in gold. It looks like Emi prefers Gumption, so a lava katana is—”

Joy’s words fade into the ether and your eyes drift shut. She’s so warm, holding you like this…

“… and that’s why you always save up your electrum ingots. You don’t want to be willy-nilly turning those into…”

“… obviously, but don’t forget that any skill cooldown can be refreshed by…”

“… back from the arena! We should go congratulate her for defeating the sand kraken, because that will bump up the congratulatory meter. Sometimes you want to hold back though, since doing it too often will give diminishing returns…”

You’re woken up by the sound of squawking birds outside and sunlight blasting your eyes through the window. You’re on your back, legs hanging off the bed. Looking to the side, you see Joy, still naked and hunched over, tapping your phone. “I know it’s labeled as a PVP mode, but since the magic is actually built into you and not the app, that’s not actually a thing. The other players’ names and teams are just randomly generated but slightly optimized versions of your own builds so that you get an idea for what’s actually possible when you spend your gems properly.”

With a yawn, you sit up, make note of your own nudity, and flinch back as you nearly headbutt a new stranger standing at the foot of your bed. “What the fu—who are you?!”

It’s a woman, wearing a skimpy purple bikini with silver trim and blue ribbons hanging off of it. Her hair and fairly large eyes are dark, midnight black. Despite the fact that she’s holding what definitely appears to be a katana made out of lava, she looks a little bit nervous. “S-sorry, master. She,” she points at Joy, who is paying you no mind, ”um, she told me to stand here and wait after summoning me…”

You look her up and down. She’s… taller than you thought she’d be, and her face is a little rounder than it had looked in the image. That picture didn’t do her pouty lower lip or her flared out hip any amount of justice. “Anecha?”

“Sorry, master. It’s pronounced ‘AH-neck-ah,’ but… No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t correct you. Sorry.”

Options:

Um, it’s the morning now. You need to go to work already. You’re probably late.

Responsibilities can wait because they’re for losers. Get a blowjob from Anecha.

Take that sword from her and mess around (safely). It’s so awesome!

Joy called Anecha "the most versatile." Fuck her while you jerk off her futa cock all over Joy’s face.

[kchasm]

Ryu Number Chart Update: Call of Juarez: Gunslinger

Call of Juarez: Gunslinger is the fourth game in the Call of Juarez series, all but unrelated to the first two installments and thankfully unrelated to the third (let's us not talk about the third). This game features Silas Greaves, an aging gunman and bounty hunter in 1910 Abiline, Kansas who's got some recollections to regale a handful of saloongoers about, the majority of which have to do with wandering the Wild West and putting lead in people who perhaps deserve to have a bit more lead in them. Mind, Greaves isn't exactly what you'd call a Reliable Narrator... but he's not an Unreliable Narrator, either.

Gunslinger plays with the story-in-a-story narrative in a few pretty neat ways. As the player character stalks through a brightly lit swamp, one Greaves' listeners notes that the weather must have been nice, to which Greaves responds that no, it was foggy—and the environment immediately becomes so. Paths open up for the player character to follow as Greaves mentions them. More than once, Greaves gets distracted, causing the story (i.e. gameplay) he's narrating to change, or, on one occasion, spin into worrying surreality. The best example, I think, is when one of the characters sat at the saloon says he knows how the tale goes, providing narration and scenario for the player to shoot through FPSly, only for Greaves to tell him that that's not how it went at all; this is how it went—and then you play through that.

(So yeah, this technically means that all of the stages are Greaves' recollections and tales, which means they're technically not happening during the game's narrative which is wholly set at the saloon—if they ever happened at all, is another issue—but seeing as no significant amount of gameplay occurs outside of his narrative, and at least some of the stuff Really Did Happen—including various non-Greaves bits throughout the game—I'm going to call on the Code Name: S.T.E.A.M. precedent here and count it while circumnavigating the best I can in the future around using this game for characters that only appeared in Greaves' recollections. If you have any objections, these objections are completely fair and valid and you can stop reading this post now.)

(Hey, you're still here! Aces.)

One element that differentiates Gunslinger from previous entries in the series is the number of historical Wild West figures who show up in Greaves' tales. As the game notes, it wasn't unusual for dime novels to turn real-life gunhandlers into celebrities and folkheroes, if it wasn't those slingers doing the selling themselves—and Greaves, for all the low regard he's got for those novels, is selling a heck of a story. The very first stage, in fact, involves his brief and ill-fated team-up with Billy the Kid.

And yes, all the Big Names get intro screens like this. It's awesome.

Caveat: Henry Plummer's appearance in Greaves' story is especially suspect, on account of that it places him in after 1882, about a score of years after the real-life Plummer was given an awfully tawdry corded necklace and instructed to hang around. Too anachronistic to count, then?

Maybe. I dunno if it changes anything, but (and this is completely baseless speculation, so don't you dare copy-paste me like I'm some voice of expertise) to me, it almost feels like a mistake from outside the game. A point for this hypothesis: There's a character from the saloon who's prone to interjection whenever he thinks Greaves' story has gotten a little too far off reality, and while he does pipe up during the Plummer matter, all he says is that Greaves got the location wrong, which you'd think would barely qualify as peccadillo next to the whole time thing.

But no, everyone's perfectly fine with the time thing, which suggests that it isn't an error—not within the game, at least. Ever read Umney's Last Case? It's a short story. Stephen King.

... But hey, maybe Greaves really is just making the entire Plummer business up, and that specifically is the reason it's chronologically out of whack. It's more than implied at the end of the game that Greaves has—at least at one point during the whole game—stretched some truth, somewhere, but the where and when and how much and how important go cheerily unanswered.

Also, Plummer has an appearance on-screen during a not-directly-related-to-Greaves bit where they explain who he is For The Benefit Of The Player, which means it doesn't matter whether Greaves is making anything up or not, which means this whole multiparagraph massacre was for the benefit of nothing.

I waste your time! I waste all of your time!

Anyway, Ryu Numbers:

Wait, sorry, Dwight D. Eisenhower? Like the American president Dwight D. Eisenhower? Mr. I-Like-Ike?

Yeah, there's a reason the framing device bits happen in Abilene, Kansas, of all places. Eisenhower—born 1890—grew up there, before going to West Point in 1911. Before the Wild West era finally sunset, Wild Bill Hickok himself, in the early 1870's, served as marshal of the city. Tradition states that the Abilene of that time was a town of wickedness and criminality, which Hickok did his utmost to restore to lawfulness almost singlehandedly in the face of repeated attempts at assassination. And yes, there was a shootout in the Old West style, with the grievances petty but the consequences violent and lethal.

The truth, of course, is a lot more complicated (and a lot more interesting—see Robert Dykstra's 1961 paper in American Studies, "Wild Bill Hickok in Abilene"), but it wouldn't be wrong to say that Eisenhower grew up with the specter of the Old West hanging around.

... Which feels wrong, doesn't it? Talking about the Wild West and Eisenhower in anything like the same era. But the American Civil War only ended in 1865 (which means we haven't even gotten a bicentennialsworth of not-enslaving-not-imprisoned-people, incidentally), which is where a whole lot of the Wild West's big names owe their production (gotta take out that trauma somewhere). And then Manifest Destiny and genocide (all the genocide) and the Homestead Acts, and paved roads and the automobile (and in the opening cutscene, Silas Greaves' horse panics when the car nearly runs them over), and then it's World War I and an uncountable number of fresh-faced American boys are going to Europe to die face-down in the mud.

That's 1917. That's only just over fifty years.

Horse ebooks was right. Everything happens so much.

(For future reference, the characters who you can almost definitely count as showing up even if Greaves is pulling the maximum amount of bunk are Billy the Kid, Curly Bill Brocius, Johnny Ringo, Old Man Clanton, Henry Plummer—anachronism or otherwise—John Wesley Hardin, Bob Dalton, Grat Dalton, Emmett Dalton, Bill Powers—or however you'd prefer to spell him—Dick Broadwell—Bob, Grat, and those last two appear in Ben's recollection of the Dalton Gang, their bodies laid out in reference to an actual photograph that was taken—Jim Reed—that portion of Greaves' story is confirmed true—Jesse James, Frank James, Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, and of course, Dwight D. Eisenhower.)

[totalcharliespringsimp]

HEY GUESS WHAT I'M DOING AGAIN

I'm writing a view! Yay cause the other one failed miserably SO WHY NOT DO IT AGAIN!?

So here's my review of 2017s IT chapter 1

Tw: Violence, Racism, Spoilers :)))

OK LET'S GET RIGHT INTO THIS!

So the movie begins with Georgie running outside and getting eaten by a clown...

Yayayay!

Then you get a little intro to each Loser.

Ben a new kid in Derry who's a big boy and that makes him very much bullied. By Henry.

Bill lost his brother (Georgie) and can't fucking talk like a fucking person GOD DAMMIT. He was in the group originally with Richie, Eddie and Stanley. Bullied by Henry.

Beverly the town whore (not actually a whore just rumors) has a super creepy Dad and is all on her own. Bullied by (not Henry!) some bitches. Jesus Christ.

Richie a class clown making jokes not being taken seriously and is head over heels for his best friend (not necessarily canon but come on) but is definitely straight heterosexual dude bro. I have a lot to say about this little dip shit. Bullied by Henry.

Eddie. Hypochondriac. I have more to say. Extremely overprotective Mother who made him think he would die if he touched grass. Feed him pills that didn't do shit. But at least he has Asthma. Bullied by surprise surprise Henry.

Stanley little Jewish boy. I don't really have much to say about him except that he's a year younger then the rest... OH and he's also bullied by Henry ✨.

Mike like the only black kid in Derry and just so coincidentally the character with the least amount of screen time. Wow. You guys failed miserably trying to fix his fear.

So eventually after killing a kid and saving Ben and Mike the group got together and became the losers club yay!

Slowly each Losers learns that they're all being chased by a killer clown named Pennywise. Hooray! Jesus Christ. They also learn that each one has a fear

Ben: Fear of being the new kid in a new town

Bill: Fear of being an only child and living without his brother

Beverly: Fear of her creepy perverted father who sexually abused her

Richie: Fear of only being seen as a class clown and never taken seriously (definitely not being a total homosexual at all)

Eddie: Fear of germs and illnesses once more 🫴🏼 hypochondriac.

Stanley: Fear of disappointing his father (that... Sure Wikipedia sure)

Mike: Fear of living in a racist town without his parents

And in order to beat pennywise they needed to beat there fears turns out they failed because he came back 27 years later!

Side note: I have a bone to pick with Stephen King. Why 27 years? Why not 30 or 25 why specifically 27!?

Now the group bonds "overcomes" there fears and hooray Pennywise dies! 🎉

But now where's the gay I was promised

Why do I have to wait until I watch chapter two to get my flashbacks of Rich's gay panic? Huh? BULLSHIT

I'm very mad about this.

The movie was known for being gory and scary I didn't flinch once. Ok maybe a bit when Henry slits his Dad's throat but uh HEY let's ignore that... Because unless you're really sensitive to clowns or blood this isn't scary I was more scared of Leonard throwing up on Eddie... Yeahhhh.

I'm also mad that there's a Beverly, Ben, Bill love triangle. PICK ONE. And pick Ben the poor guy needs a break.

I also wanted more warnings like people said shit like of Georgie got his arm ripped off! No. I much rathered a warning about Henry CARVING AN H INTO HIS STOMACH! Beverly's Dad. And Urgh I just hate how gross this movie was with the fucking piss water and shit like that.

Gore: no

Generally yucky things: yes

Get it the fuck out of the movie I nearly threw up when Leonard threw up on Eddie 🤮

There also wasn't any homophobia that I could tell in this Chapter which upset me deeply because in Stephen King's original novel Richie was going through a really hard Gay crisis but it wasn't much in Chapter one so yeah I'm not really happy that it was more prominent in Chapter 2 and barely there in chapter 1

I would like to point out little things I noticed from cross overs that were there before Chapter 2 was even made for example:

Right as Ben was being pinned to the fence and having an H carved into his stomach. There's a wide shot and you can see the R + E carved into the wood meaning that Richie put that there before the Losers club was made. I thought that was interesting.

I also saw that and I think this one was super obvious but when Stanley runs up to the arcade and tells Richie that Pennywise took Beverly he's wearing the same outfit and playing the same game as a scene in chapter 2. Richie was playing the game with a boy who turned out to be Henry's little brother (fucking fantastic). After the game finishes Richie and this boy have this little hand touch and wow it's making Rich feel some things and asks if he wants to play another game but Henry shows up! (Womp womp) He sees Richie calls him a faggot cause apparently wanting to play a game makes you Gay and Richie runs away. Now here's the thing. Since this happened Richie ran away and came back to play the same game. 🤦🏼 Idk correct me if I'm wrong but idk yet I haven't seen Chapter 2 yet.

Anyway yeah that's my opinion and I'm still deeply obsessed with Reddie. This didn't help. I just want more.

[lisbetadair]

Once again, the MW3 release occurred during my weekend nightshift, so getting the game played and then getting some kind of coherent thoughts togehter about the experience has been somewhat of a challenge as I claw my way through the rest of the week unaffected such luxuries as a decent amount of sleep.

That the campaign was too short, shorter than people expected or felt was reasonable value for money is a sentiment that I entirely agree with. The first mission showcasing the multiplayer maps, the one with Farah on the dock, seemed like an interesting deviation from the usual, longer storytelling missions, and is a decision for s single level in isolation I wasn't craxy about it, but at the time, I think I appreciated them doing something a bit different. After all, that's not a part of the game where there needs to be a lot of storytelling: we already know who's stealing the missiles and there's a direct task to be accomplised.

At this point, what's frustrating to me, someone who doesn't really follow the seaons, or the additional missions that come as free DLC, is that MW3 is not a standalone game after MW2. It relies on you being familiar with the material that has been included. Graves has reappeared and is now working with Farah, something that only makes sense if you have found that out already. I'm not sure why this decision was made, because whilst Graves died off screen (and that's a sure fire way that a character is going to be resurrected in a later game) that Graves is even still alive is a dramatic momement. Yes, we live through the reveal that Graves is still alive through Soap, Ghost and Gaz, but I think the game loses a big moment by denying the audience that same experience.

The storyline of MW3: the false flag work and manipulation of media narratives is a great storyline. On a personal level, having just listened to Neal Stephenson's Termination Shock for some twenty two hours, and being frustrated by very much the same narrative, this didn't really gel with me, but that's a purely subjective experience affected by other media experience. I think had I been experiencing something like that for the first time, it would have been a great narrative.

This said, the new Modern Warfare series, by focussing entirely on the guerilla warfare and special forces storylines, I think, is starting to lose variation in the level design that's now become detrimental. In the old series, you played as either the special forces or the general infantry (with the exception of MW3 where you played as both but the special forces unit was engaged in open warfare missions) so there was variety in the playing style. The former focussed on sneaking about, long-range sniping, occassionally air support and small scale open gunfights. The latter involved vehicles and larger maps with open combat.

In the latest MW3, all of the missions seemed to blend in with each other. I spent some time at the start of each mission trying to work out if this was meant to be sneaky, or not, and not infrequently, got it wrong and had to start again. Why did we not vary betwen spending time providing long range sniper support and sneaking about the crash site with Farah and Alex, or at the dam?

I know that the reasons behind all of this was the rushed development, and we can only hope that the slating the game campaign has received and the response to the revelation that it's at least in part due to lack of clear direction and rushed development time, will refocuss the company on improving things for the next release.

[scorbleeo]

TV Show Review: The Irregulars

Source: Google Images

A crew of misfits investigates a series of supernatural crimes in Victorian London for Dr. Watson and his shadowy associate, Sherlock Holmes.

Source: Netflix (2021)

Cool Concept but Poor Execution

Before getting into The Irregulars, I really did not know it was a supernatural twist to the classic Sherlock Holmes. So, imagine my surprise when I watched episode 1 and suddenly the screen focused on the door labelled '221B Baker Street'. Of course, then I expected a very Sherlock Holmes-y TV show but nope, that expectation was far from it.

Yes, we still get Sherlock Holmes but due to certain events in his past, he has succumbed to the opium addiction. Which personally, I liked seeing because one, it showed a "kind of accurate" depiction of history during that time. And two, it showed a side of Sherlock we rarely see, one whose judgment is more wrong than right and not nearly as perfect as media likes to portray him. We also obviously got John Watson and I am a bit conflicted with his character in The Irregulars. I love John Watson no matter which adaptation I am watching but there was a time in The Irregulars where I felt so bored by him. I thought the writing for this show's John needed to be better, there was no John Watson essence in this version at all. Moreover, the plot twist(s) in his character arc was so predictable, nobody can convince no one saw what was coming.

Of course, because this is a retelling of Sherlock Holmes (older and with a supernatural twist), there are a lot of crime investigation by a group of children who finds themselves linked to Sherlock and John in some ways. I will be critically honest here, if there was no supernatural twist at all, I would have hated The Irregulars – the children investigating the cases were not fun to watch at all. Bea despite being the oldest is perhaps one of the most flawed person in the group, other than her age what or who made her the leader? Without Jessie, the group is pretty much useless in solving all their cases and worst of all, we barely got anything about her powers. Billy, though a hothead, is probably more clear minded and fitted to lead the group more than Bea. Maybe Billy is more brawn than brains but I still think he can lead the group; he can be objective when he needs to be. As for Leo, after Jessie, he's definitely the second most useful member of the group yet the amount of bullshit he goes through with his family and this group of children? What does he see in his friends? Last but not least, my favourite, Spike was done so dirty by making him so unimportant. There was a scene where the group fell apart and eventually came back together just because Spike worked the hardest for that to happen. He called himself the skeleton of the group but I feel that, he's the glue that keeps them together and without him, the group will cease to exist.

Moving on, can you believe that I enjoyed the filler cases over the main issue driving this show? The filler cases had more action and way more crime-solving bits. The main issue was a huge disappointment just like the big bad villain. I mean, who did not see the villain's twist, it was so bloody obvious since the first appearance. On the brighter side though, I am very glad the production team did not go down the route where they made Alice a villain. That episode was underwhelming but at least Alice did not hit all my predictions.

Considering there is no season 2 to this TV show, there is no point in me furthering this review. However, I know I would have enjoyed the children working together with John as a team with a friendlier relationship.

Rating: ★★★☆☆ (3.5/5)

P.S.: Help, why was The Irregulars so dark? Even my brightest setting was not enough.

[anxiouspotatorants]

It is time. It is finally time for the new Suicide Squad rant (and spoilers will be plentiful):

As someone who was into DC Comics and comics in the mid to late 2010s and had so much hype for the first Suicide Squad movie only to be let down, I was so nervous for this one. I knew it was going to be a roller coaster, but whether I would come out happy or disappointed was up in the air. Having just seen it I will say this: I have no idea if this was a good movie-movie. It was insane. The comedy. The violence. The high emotion. I’m still trying to take it all in. But one thing I do know is that this is an amazing Suicide Squad movie. Gunn and co took the best parts of the comic concept and went batshit with it and that is how this property should be handled (in my opinion). Screw edgelordisms, we need full on insanity free of aiming for shock-value or sexy brutality we want chaos baby.

Starting the whole movie as they did, with Savant as the POV for a mission (or part of the mission) that just goes to hell immediately and kills off so many before the title arrives is the perfect way to start this movie. Like the second I realized this was how they were doing it I was just smiling from ear to ear, this is the spirit of the property.

Part of me wishes we got more Amanda Waller, but what we had was impeccable. Then again, this is Viola Davis we’re talking about, and if she was born to play any character in a superhero story, it is Amanda Waller.

And points to her tech team, introducing them with the death bets was just a lovely way to show how regular this is and how awful everyone is in this movie.

I’m not going to pretend like Deadshot and Bloodsport didn’t have the exact same character- and plot premises… but I will say that Bloodsport felt better executed.

I love that they kept some of the past members and not just Harley. Rick Flag got to have a full personality and interactions with his team members and to be a true leader and it made me so happy for someone who initially did not give a single shit about his character. The Harley friendship? The Dubois friendship? The friendship with that guerilla leader? Amazing. The one American soldier in fictional media I genuinely like. You go Mr Flag.

The new members were… they were insane in the best way. Gone are the shitty stereotypes and present are some of the wackiest creations to ever grace the mainstream movie-sphere (aka the slightly less normal comic creations): A man who has to shoot out polka dots two times a day so as not to die from a space virus. A giant child murdering weasel. A guy who detaches his limbs and slaps people with said detached limbs. King Shark. The second person to command rats with a fancy gadget. They are all crazy and all weird and all more or less morally repulsive people and I love them.

The amount of times I did a double take over the soundtrack I swear. Jessie Reyez? The Pixies? It was so much fun to pick up on once I did.

Was the depiction of a vague Latin American country stereotypical? Yes. Was the secret American involvement predictable and felt mildly patronizing from a non-American, part Latina point of view? Yep. But damn it if I didn’t have a good time with those stereotypes and laugh my ass off at how well executed some were. I don’t know if it was meant as parody, but that one secretary has me thinking so — and if so I am pleased.

Speaking of Latino dictators Harley’s one day romance with one of the villains was something I never knew I needed. Like it was so perfect for Harley that when it happened I almost hit myself for not realizing that this kind of plot should be a normal thing for Harley. And the end of it? Perfect not only in this standalone movie, but also in conjunction with the first and with BoP.

The Taika Waititi cameo??? Oh my god??? I did not expect that and I love it?? Sir, What We Do in the Shadows is impeccable.

Rick Flag’s death actually surprised me. It shouldn’t as this is Suicide Squad, but I kind of expected him to be on Harley’s level of unkillable (because let’s face it, no one kills Harley). What I will say is that his death was good and his final words and actions made me love him all the more. I hope this spawns more Rick Flag content, or at least inspires me to look at what already exists, if he already is as this movie made him (it’s been ages since I read one of the Suicide Squad reboot comics okay).

Starro. How can a villain be so wacky and so terrifying at the same time? I did not expect a literal alien starfish to have more terrifying powers and a more tragic plot execution than Enchantress. But here we are. And that damn star just wanted to be floating in space, and instead it was stuck getting revenge by killing and puppeteering human corpses. Wow that thing was creepier the more you think about it.

I don’t know what I think about Polka Dot Man. I loved watching him on screen but also damn those mommy-issues were on a new level. Not just in his backstory but how he literally sees her in every person around him that was insane. Very funny but like also the kind that makes you laugh just because you’re uncomfortable and don’t know how else to releive the tension.

When Waller got knocked out by a staff member I immediately thought «oh my god Amanda Waller is going to kill half the staff for this», so I’m mildly surprised and disappointed that I didn’t get to see that happen. But also I should maybe expect something like this in a potential future Suicide Squad movie. We can’t have everything in a movie as packed as this.

Peacemaker was very horrible and worked really well. Don’t really have much to say about him, not because I didn’t enjoy him but because I already feel like the film itself has said it for me. But the planting and payoff for his death? Chef’s. Kiss.

Harley’s wardrobe was beautiful. Ratcatcher 2’s combat outfit felt like a steampunk plague dream. Bloodsport’s mask was supercool. Rick Flag’s t-shirt was amazing. But the best little outfit was the Mafalda-keychain and her red dress, hands down. Oh and King Shark’s fake moustache finger moment.

King Shark is shaped like a friend I don’t care how many people he ate alive on screen he looks so huggable. It feels like wanting to pet a bear. You know it will kill you but damn it look at those paws and those cute eyes!

I really need to give it to not just James Gunn but the entire production team for this movie. The aesthetic was perfect. The story was the right blend of whimsical and violent. The finished product was a literal rollercoaster and I mean that in a good way. If superhero movies have to be like amusement parks, I hope they’re more like this one and BoP.

I’ll finish on the note that while I think this movie was great and hopefully a step in the right direction for the DCU/DCEU (as in stop trying to play Marvel’s game and just do your own thing/ let your creative teams run wild and free), it is not the first step. Cathy Yan, Birds of Prey and the production team for it took a step first, and they deserve due credit and attention. If you loved this Suicide Squad movie and haven’t watched BoP yet, do so. Because they really are in the same ballpark while doing things in slightly different ways. And any good DCEU movie deserves more attention so the studios know that creativity and risks should be rewarded. I want more DC movies like this, not necessarily in genre but in creative risks. I want a Black Canary rock movie. I want Alfred in a reverse heist movie alone in the batcave against Gotham villains. I want Gotham Academy on screen play by play from the comics. I want a fully animated psychedelic-like Khalid Nassour as Dr. Fate movie. I want elevated horror movie Constantine. I want weird ass Lois Lane journalist movies with a heavy side of Superman. And I want DC movies I didn’t even know I wanted.

Support creativity in mainstream comic movies. Help me become a DC fan and happy about it again.

[beann-e]

Haikyu characters reacting to their s/o screaming back at them

Nekoma Characters reacting to their s/o Screaming back at them

Read Part One Here

kenma

-it would not take much -_-

- Kenma doesn’t even notice he’s yelling at you or much less using his raised voice when talking to you

-he’s so used to screaming at kuroo through his mic that when he’s finally pissed off and bubbling ; it just happens after you try to ask him what he wants for dinner at the wrong time

-post time skip

“ go left “ The sound of the controller clicking swirled through the room as your boyfriends eyes followed the screen at every turn his character took “ kuroo I said go left “

“ uh which one ? “

kenmas face went into a straight line as kuroos body stiffened knowing he hadn’t been listening in the first place “ no wait which way I meant —which way “

“kuroo I said go left “

“ oh “

“ yeah — go left “ the strain in your boyfriends voice was evident

it showing off the sliver of annoyance he was trying to hold back knowing that you were somewhere in the same house

he hated for you to see him anything other than calm

Anytime he showed any bit of annoyance with you or even showed he was about to give you attitude you quickly shut it down. It was obvious to him who was the dominant one in the relationship and he had no problem with it

Honestly he was scared of what you would think when you finally saw him fly off the handle. Of course you’d seen him have an attitude he was a gamer that was normalized to have one after a lost game but, it wasn’t often he showed you that side because kenma doesn’t do losing

so what would happen if he finally got ticked off so badly due to something that was ‘just a game’ to you would you be scared?

he couldn’t help but think that you would run for the hills and then screw him over in the breakup and tell everyone he still wears tidy whities and forgets to go pee during gameplays unless you remind him by asking had he peed all day

“ hey du— “

“ don’t talk until you kill the leftover guys so we can win“

“ ken you don’t think I can multitask “ kuroos laugh fell into the room over kenmas headphones “ I used to do it everyday i was the captain of the vb team, I keep you in line “

“ sure sure — but are you watching your corners “

“ I keep everyone healthy , and i’m hot , plus I’m about to win this gam— I died “

the silence in the moment spoke volumes before kenma could

his hand grabbing the controller harshly as he refused to blink seeing the word loser flash in bright letters on his screen

Body growing hot and sweaty while he tried to hold in his anger and process what just happened so he could determine the next best course of action

Knowing , He just knew

The amount of trouble he’d get in if you walked in to hear him screaming at kuroo shouting words you hated when he used

He was trying to hold it all in

really he was

he just needed some quiet first just some silence to figure out how to calm himself down his brain going over serveral images of kuroo dead at the bottom of stairs maybe even him getting hit too hard with one of kenmas sets when they played 4 on 4matches

Anger only growing when he heard a voice pour in that he couldn’t figure out who it belonged to much less cared

“ hey ke— “

“ Do you ever fucking listen “ his voice was hard and threatening “ do you ever just shut the fuck up and “

he threw his headphones to his keyboard “ and listen — no you don’t— you go quiet and now here i am upset because you simply don’t listen — answer the questions i’m asking you— you fucking sea creature“

his body only growing hotter as his neck got red eyes darting for a person to scream at and take his anger out on

“ answer me “ he screamed pain eteched in his voice as he finally turned to find you

a look crossing over his face before he blinked looking to the floor then up at you in confusion before turning back to his screen that glowed in the dark room anger hitting him all over again when he saw kuroos wide open mouth and their dead avatars laying on the ground

“ Why the fuck — how the —- I always fucking lose when that asshole —that miscalculated creation— whenever he plays with me it’s so serious to me — i make money off of it i make — i get deals and i — I can’t — can’t lose them they’ll think i’m not good enough— i“

he slammed his fist into the wall speaking low

“ I hate fucking losing “

he turned to you “ it’s not nice y/n — I tried to fucking do your shitty routine of calming myself down first but it just “

he moved closer to you with anger pouring from his body

your eyes wide in a look of fear when he grabbed your face pointing to his screen “ look — “

he screamed in your face when you didn’t tear your eyes away from his “ BABE I SAID LOOK“

your eyes never leaving his as he just grew angrier at your incompetence

“ so your not fucking listening to me either “ his voice grew questioning “ are your ears dirty just like kuroos ? huh ? are y’all apart of some shitty cult for mute wannabes “

his hand gripped tighter on your cheeks “ i’m so stupid your just as fucking dumb as that asshole — fucking — I bet you wanna date him huh — “

his mind ran wild as he thought of the two of you together insecurity blooming

“ you want a loser like him over me right ? you have to like kuroo — look at him you want to date kuroo right “

he laughed “ fucking slu— “

“ finish it and we’ll be playing our own game of kenma getting his ass beat until he finally gives up and cries “

your eyebrows quirked up as you held eye contact with him “ trust me you’ll lose “

you looked at the male in front of you in disgust

“ get your shitty cheeto dusted gamer hands off of me “

his hands loosened their hold on you

“ all the way off you dirty imbecile “

you scoffed as he dropped his hand in a rush of fear

“ I bet your dirty ass didn’t even wash them after I made you pee earlier — yeah made — you wanted to get back to that sweaty chair that badly ? “

his cheeks grew hot as he blinked himself out of his trance only to see what he’d gotten himself into

“ who do you think you are talking to like that “

your stare making him shake even more in fear

You always scared him when you were upset wether you were taller or not your annoyance alone at an action he’d done scared him enough

Your words stood tall and poured in on him making him feel like he was suffocating but, he knew he needed to hear this. You only did this when his anger was out of control like he knew it could be. He stayed on his games all day and all night which was the only way to provide your shared income

at least until he could get his company up and running he had yet to sign contracts because he said he needed to read them first and reading took too much work

this was how he paid your bills. It stressed him out knowing that any day someone on the internet could call him a loser and that same day your steady flow of money may trickle in slower than usual

So when he lost a game any game even something as simple as Mario or even kirby it pissed him off because he couldn’t help but shoulder all the responsibility of taking care of you and himself. He didn’t want to be the reason you lost that stability and all of this catered into his rage. A rage only you could catch and calm down with your sheer words.

“ who do you think you are “ your voice came out low and calm as you spoke down on him “ answer me “

“n-no on — no one babe “

“ don’t babe me “ your hand pressed on his chest “ you don’t deserve that not after you talked to me that way “

“ I -i’m sorry “

“ for what “

“ f-for talking to you like that and “ his voice came out soft as he spoke

“ I cannot hear you “

“ fuck i’m sorry for talking to you that way —and for using force —force and grabbing you like that “

“and i’m just expected to forgive you? you know I hate this — you know this and yet you keep doing it? why ? why do you keep shouldering this and then lashing out “

“ p-please “

“ mm — i’m not seeing it ken— I mean you treat me like one of your other asshole friends and then on top of it you grabbed my face this time— you’ve never gone that far “

“ y-yes I know — I know “

“ so you can see my problem with just accepting your apology right “

“ y-yes ma’am “

“ oh — “ you laughed as you spoke “ now we’re using nice names huh “

“ i—I thought it’d work“ he pouted

“ I wanna forgive you ken “ you looked at him as his head dropped in embarrassment cheeks going red

“ I really do babe but “

“ I swear I won’t do it again y/n “

you thought for a moment staring at the boy in front of you who was pissing his pants in fear

“ y-y/n I swear I didn’t know it was you I was angry and I —I thought kuroo was talkin— “

“ but you realized it was me? “

he paused

“ you even looked from me and back to your screen so you knew correct “

“ yes “

“ and yet you still yelled at me and grabbed my face “

“ really i’m sorry— I wasn’t there all the way “

you took a deep breath before looking to his computer eyes made up in a squint and then trailing back to the boy in front of you

“ ok ken “ his eyes glowed in happiness

“ you— your forgiving me “ he laughed almost mocking you knowing he’d never been let go this quickly you usually took away his gaming system until he’d learned to calm down

he even started ‘doing’ yoga, if you count playing the youtube videos on the tv while he played on his apple watch that you’d forgotten to take, just to fool you into giving his game back “ this easily“

your eyes moved pointedly to his as he fell back into submission

“ i’m sorry I just meant you arent more upset “

“ well i’m deciding that since it was the first time you ever went to that extent of yelling at me I’m gonna let you off the hook “

you smiled “ also I thought you already got enough punishment “

“ h-huh “

you let your head move up to face his computer screen in a slight nod his eyes lighting up before his face fell in sadness

He never meant to fall submissive let alone show who was the dominant one in the relationship to anyone outside of you especially not with kuroo on the other line

“ I don’t think kuroo minds much babe it’s ok “ you said happily changing the whole way you carried yourself earlier and the way you spoke your body easing after beating into kenma

“ no trust me he doe— “

“ goddamn “

your eyes fell onto his friends open mouthed smile

“ and you just let ‘em do you like that “

kenmas eyebrows came together in sadness

“ damn ken —“

your eyes went hard on kuroo

“ and do you think your any better ? because from what i’ve heard churro it seems to me like you couldnt even keep your own team on a leash much less that lev kid so ? “

“ god “ kuroo coughed shifting in his seat whispering softly to himself “ so hot “

he shook his head before speaking again a little bit louder “ uh no— no I completely understand y/n —god i just know your fun “ he laughed

“ kenma keep listening to your s/o don’t mind me “

he moved to log off speaking under his breath “ so fucking scary —swear i’m bringing ‘em in to scare my vb kiddos— shit “

you shook your head in confusion “ uh wha—”

“ he had a — he had a crush on you and yeah I”

“ oh well “ you moved to throw your arms around him in happiness his body stumbling back at the action as he cautiously wrapped his hands around your back

“ n-not in trouble “

“ not in trouble “

“ still love me “

“ still love you “

“ then can I pla- “

“ no “

“ nevermind I didn’t want —want to play anyways “

“ that’s good “

“ yeah “ he drawed out as you grabbed his hand pulling him to the living room “ but babe the monitors still on just one matc— “

your grip tightned on his hand “ movie ken “

“ got it movie — movie “

he spoke low following you wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek “ movie first — game later “

lev

-I don’t think he would ever ever ever scream at you but he would totally say something hurtful and not even realize it because kuroo and kenma said it to him

-so he’s literally just using what he was taught but In the wrong way

- not a time skip

“ lev can you help me “ you shouted to the taller male as you made your way across the court his hands cupping around his mouth as he stared down on you from the other side “ yeah “ he smiled “ totally “

you copied him a smile itching to spread across your face “ just because I yell doesnt mean you yell “

“ well as bossy as you are you should know I’m going to “

your face dropped before it fell back into a happy smile mind racing with thoughts of maybe hes just making a joke he knows you hate when people say that about you

“ hey uh lev ? “

“ yeah babe “ he said running over to you

“ let’s not say that ok cause it kinda — it really hurt my feelings “ his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down on you his voice vibrating along the gym before he smiled again “ babe I like the design you added to your face I didn’t notice but other people said you looked good with it and yeah —honestly they were right “

“ huh — design? “

“ yeah it’s red it’s right by your eyebrow “

your hands moved quickly to cover the pimple from his view eyes darting across the gym hoping no one else heard and was trying to take a look at it

“ it’s fine it’s fine maybe if you put on some makeup you can hide it right ? i mean if you don’t like the design like I do i mean that’s what you usually use it for right ? “

your eyebrows went up face holding nothing but sadness as you spoke “ do you— lev baby do you really think i’m bossy “

he jumped up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement as he kept going “ yeah — I do everything you tell me to and I like it i’m like a puppy and your the master “

you could feel your body heat up at his words his smile spreading wider as he turned to his awestruck teammates

“ babe it’s ok id follow you to the end of the earth because I don’t understand your just stringing me along”

your hands dropped the balls you held onto from picking them up off the floor. head cocking to the side as you studied him trying to see what sparked this new way of thinking

“ oh god “

“ he’s so fucking —so so fucking clueles- “

“ stupid just outright stupid is what he is “ you said as his eyebrows creased face struggling to find the right way to react to the burning hot anger he felt radiating off of you in waves “ lev baby who told you this “

you walked a bit closer to him head leaned back to see him clearly “ who made you think this way “

“ uh what “ he shook his head face coming up in a pout “ babe I — “ he played with his fingers as he looked off to the side hand moving to run across his neck “ for some reason I feel like i’m in trouble —I did—did I do something wrong baby ?“

“ this is not cool lev not helpful, not sweet and nice it’s hurtful “

“ no what ? wait i’m “ he took his hand out to grab your arm his face made up in pure confusion “ no i’m —i’m complimenting you “

“ you— your complimenting me? “

“ yeah “ he smiled struggling to hold it up as his eyes darted across your face

“ lev baby “ you faked a smile as your eyes hardened “ think about your words —what have you just said “

“ well I said that your my master and i’m like a puppy“ he smiled as he thought back “ only because I love you and would do anything you tell me and because i’m hyper and sometimes you have to explain stuff to me in simple form because I can’t pay attention when anyone else talks but you “

he kept going “ then I said that I do anything you tell me to and I would “ he smiled harder voice sure of himself“ because I like following you and making you happy “

he scratched his neck face flashing a deep red “ then — then I said that you cover up your bossine— ok i’m sorry “

his face made up into a pout as he slumped “ really I didn’t know I thought it was nice I heard the team saying it in the back rooms and I though— “

“ FUCKING IDIOT “

“ LEV WHAT THE FUCK “

“ HOLY SHIT LEGS ARE YOU SERIOUS “

levs face dropped as he turned to kenma “ legs seriously ? “

kenma shrugging as he continued to play his hand held game “ eh well everyone else was saying something and you annoy me so — I present legs “

he sighed as he turned back only to see your eyes holding nothing but garbage fires In them as you stared at the group of guys huddled together

“ speak “ everyone whimpered as you stared them down “ explain to me why my boyfriend is telling me I need makeup to cover my pimple ”

kuroos uncomfortable laugh left him quickly as he looked away from the both of you rocking back and forth in his shows “ well um y/n “ he coughed “ you see we were — we’re guys y/n we were making jokes and you see lev doesn’t understand “

“ well I do so explain “

he jumped “ we thought— “

“ not quick enough you sweaty catboy“

“ god ok he came to us wanting to know how to compliment you he said he didn’t want to say anything dumb and —so that made us realize we can really make him do anything cause he’s so clueless—thought if we could get lev to say some dumb shit—trust me we didn’t go that far “ he said pointing to lev who was picking up the balls you’d dropped on the floor chasing after one that rolled away

“ then you’d break up with him and I guess at least one of us would have a chance — well except kenma he says he has princess peach as his wife —wait who the fu—I actually don’t know who that is ken is that an online girlfriend “

he furrowed his brows actually puzzled by his earlier words “ I don’t know why it seemed so normal to me at the time “

he shook his head “ but lev is so fucking stupid that he said everything fucking wrong — we literally just told him what we personally like about you —gave him some corny pickup lines but he said everything wrong like even the phrase about your makeup we were saying how you don’t wear any or when you do it’s not obvious because your natural beauty just radiates through it— then the next thing we talked about is how strong and just how you take directive I guess — and we — we thought it was hot “

“ then where did he get the stuff he said from “ your voice went high now you were confused he couldn’t have made that stuff up

“ y/n he’s just fucking stupid where do you think “ he rolled his eyes “ he made it up because he didn’t understand “

levs eyes widened as he had stopped paying attention to the situation taking place hours ago “ uh I cannot confirm or deny that statement but I will say you are very very beautiful my love “

your heart warmed as the team groaned your body moving into his as you kissed him softly “ did I do something wrong ? “

“ no lev your ok “

“ ok I never want you to feel bad or like y’know how kenma feels I always feel like he’s so angry “ your boyfriend shivered as he locked eyes with kenma who was ready to pounce on him claws showed as he gripped his game harshly “ see —- so angry “

“ not angry lev just “ you looked at him seriously “ babe you have to pay attention to what you say you may say something really really wrong to me one day and then — “

“ and then you’ll tell me what I did wrong while we cuddle and drink hot chocolate“

you smiled squeezing him harder “ no — then i’ll break your kneecaps so you’ll never be able to play volley again and i’ll dye your hair black in your sleep so people will think you look like a tall dirty mop “

he shook before he led you out of the door the team watching as you left leaving all of them to curse silently about their failed plan “ he’s the stupidest guy on the team and he — he got that “

“ bet he doesn’t even know what he’s doing when he’s tapping it “

kuroo laughed “ yeah right like he even gets that far — they probably gotta explain how to continue a kiss without him focusing and staring straight into their eyes — he’s probably learning how to ‘multitask’ right now as we speak—lucky idiot “

the doors to the gym slammed open roughly a few minutes later as you held levs hand tightly behind the door “ HEY ASSHOLES “

everyone tuned to you in fear for themselves and the tall male behind you who you dragged like a mom in a store his eyes stuck on the lollipop that stuck out from his mouth “ guys y/n found me a lollipop—she stuffed it in my mouth when I told her the joke you guys told me to “

“ w-what joke “

“ the one where I called the sex line and said that I requested them because I heard good reviews “

the teams heads all dropped knowing they’d never said anything of the sort or even along the line he’d messed up their original words yet again and put not only himself but them in danger

“ if you guys ever try to taint my boyfriend with your dumb fucking words again I swear I will end you all —kenma i’ll buy every copy of the new game that you want that’s coming out — literally blow all my money so you can’t ever play the stupid game until im ready to allow you to “ his mouth going up in an o as he still had his attention on his game hands only tightening a bit at the threat his body moving behind kuroo for safety

“ kuroos chemistry lab will become a garbage chute for my lunch trays “ kuroos body slumping as he draped himself over kenma only to get pushed off and fall on the floor in pain your mouth moving to tell everyone else on the team what would happen if they didn’t respect your boyfriend and treat him like the nice , caring guy he was

Until finally you flashed a smile and walked off leaving the team in disarray as they couldn’t figure out if you just grew that much hotter or if they were having heat flash from the pissed off emotions they felt when lev turned around and winked at them while he ran his hand down your shoulder to land at your lower back as he followed you out

[ihatepeopleohnooo]

The Umbrella Academy Season 3 was um... Well it was something I'll give them that. Spoilers warning.

I felt like all the Umbrellas became really annoying like they just become the worst versions of themselves. Luther feels like he got dumber or poorer at making decisions, Five got more egocentric, Klaus even more irresponsible. Also speaking of that, the amount of stupidity that they display is astounding. Like they kept asking Ben stuff that only their own Ben would know and expects him to get it, well of course he's gonna be mad. They also kinda provoked the Sparrows into the first fight by saying stuff like this was their house and whatever as if they don't understand that changing stuff in the pass changes things in the future. Don't get me started on how Allison still expected to find Claire and even how she managed to get in to Patrick's house in the first place. The cherry on top was also her downward spiral to villainy (yes, even as an Allison fan in the previous seasons, one has to admit that she is the Villain now and I'm guessing also the villain for season 4). She became extremely unlikeable. Not to mention *that* horrific moment.

Also the Sparrows were such a wasted potential. They were hyped up only to have half die off by episode 5 or 6. I don't get why people like Sloane so much. She's the most generic 'nice girl next door' with a Juliette complex ever. Her personality is mostly just being nice. At least she's really smart. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate her, I just don't live for her. And I find her and Luther's love story to be extremely rushed and two dimensional. But hey at least it's not as problematic or toxic as Allison and Luther. Jayme and Alphonso have cool concepts, but they also had problems. Idk if it's the acting but Jayme feels so robotic in any scenes that are not fight scenes. Alphonso is also pretty unlikable and his powers are inconsistent (but was never explained in the show why it's not consistent so it just makes it seem like plot armor). Marcus is... I don't even know what to do with this one since he got like 17 seconds of screen time. The only ones I actually like is Fei. She actually has a distinct personality; cold, calculating, smart, but underneath that veneer, someone who cares about her siblings. Also Christopher was alright, but cmon people, let's be real. He was a floating cube with no dialogues who got barely any screen time.

On top of that, I feel like most of the conflict in the series could easily be resolved by simply talking to each other. If Five told the family his plan, most of the fights would've never happened. Now don't get me wrong, I love me some dysfunctional family dynamics and I get that years of childhood trauma leaves a significant impact on your adult character, but it's been 3 seasons, at some point they gotta show some progress to character development. Why are they still so bad at communicating after 2 apocalypses?? Here they kinda feel like their Season 1 selves, slightly better or worst at that.

I love this series and I want to love this season but I just have so many gripes with it, well mostly just the annoying character regressions and a couple of 'this happened because it needed to happen don't ask questions' moments. Viktor Hargreaves being trans is like the least of the season's problem (also I don't get why people keep saying that the show makes a big deal of Viktor's transitioning when it was literally covered in like a couple minutes of dialogue). In fact Viktor's character is, dare I say, one of the ones that I actually like. He became reasonable but still compassionate. A perfect contrast to Allison's arc.

The season's not all bad. I think there were some touching moments and the Sparrows, as much of a disappointment they are, had awesome powers. Glad to know Reggie's motives and why he build the hotel etc. Idk I have mixed feelings about this season. Hopefully season 4 would be better.

Edit I can't believe I forgot arguably the best highlight of the season; the footloose dance sequence 👁👄👁

TL;DR season 3 was definitely *something*

[thesolferino]

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.” 

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?” 

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity. 

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.” 

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?” 

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him. 

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task. 

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones. 

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back. 

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone. 

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind. 

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks. 

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you. 

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation. 

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters. 

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained. 

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.” 

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.” 

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.” 

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling. 

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened. 

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message. 

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

[drakenlvr]

Can I request head cannons on playing video games w the Haitani bro's?! Pls and tyy😁 💞 (platonic + fluff/crack)

playing video games with the Haitani brothers

characters εїз Ran and Rindou (obv)

note εїз hi hi, sorry i took so long n if it’s not what u envisioned xx, not proofread, gn!reader

warning εїз none, just hcs

you and the Haitani brothers have known each other, since you guys were kids

growing up near them brought you a certain type of reputation

other children in the neighborhood were always scared when they'd see any of you, because they knew who you were

and yeah sure, the friendship did have its privileges, but you didn’t see them as anything more than your friends

and that still stands to this day, although they now had made a name for themselves as intimidating gang members

which was how most ppl saw them

it’s well known that the Haitani brothers are rich and with that came both of them owning the newest and shiniest video games

and as a kid, nothing seemed better than this

over the years the three of you grew closer and closer, some would say you guys are inseparable nowadays

one of the best things is going over to their house to play together every weekend, because unlike your house - there are no rules, no bedtime

so what more could you ask for?!

at this point it's become a habit of just going over, no knocking, just bursting into the house and making a straight line to their gaming room

(yes they do have a special room for that, prove me wrong)

in a line down two of the walls are arcade machines placed next to one another, near them a big flat screen TV with a bunch of game consoles, lying on the floor

there'd be times when they'd walk in after a long day of beating the shit out of people, just to see your shoes near the door and quickly go to the room to come play with you

exactly there you were always seated on your favorite couch, eyes focused on the screen

Ran will boast about his "amazing skills when playing so-and-so game", but he is the literal worst

tries so hard, yet still fails miserably every time

nonetheless, you can count on all of your fingers the amounts of times he's won against you or Rindou

once you start a game he is so convinced that he’s got it this time and once he loses he’d blame it on the fact that he wasn't even trying

or he'll say something like "there's no way i can win when the entire time you were pushing me !! you did this on purpose !! you cheater !!”

or he will just tell you to shut up, instead of admitting defeat

he's a bit of a sore loser

he'd also try to cheat during a game, but pretend that "the odds just happened to be in his favor", when in fact, no - they were not, Ran

he is the worst, but at least you can have fun teasing him

Rindou is the exact opposite of his brother

he is naturally talented at games, and you often times lose to him

even when you put so much effort that you start moving your entire body with the character on screen Rindou still somehow manages to beat you

he likes teasing and would often times just smirk or straight up grin at you, while looking proud of himself, unlike his casually rested face

and you just know that shit-eating grin is saying "i didn't even try and you still managed to lose"

sometimes he even says it, just to get you even more annoyed

but if he loves something more than making fun of you, that is making fun of his brother

it's truly something that u bond over

Ran absolutely hates it when his little brother and childhood friend team up against him, just to make fun of him after

you and Rindou, definitely, are a great team - you being the attack and overall strength and him being the brains

it works out perfectly

you guys even have a little handshake you do at the end of each match, once you have triumphed and are now solidifying your win over Ran

who is now staring daggers at both of you from his place on the couch

m.list

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

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

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

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

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

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

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

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

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

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

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

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

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

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

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

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

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

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

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

An Angel was calling you. 

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

Wait...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But something about you made him open up.

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

But.

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

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

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

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

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

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

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

“Hey mami, come here often?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is that pertinent?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook?”

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

Y/N. In person.

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

Right?

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

Wrong. 

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

He forces his body to action.

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

Pause.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.”

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

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

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

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

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

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

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

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

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

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

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

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

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

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

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

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

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

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

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

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

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

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

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

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

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

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

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

So far, no sign of him. 

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

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

And then you hear it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

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

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

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

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

Carpe noctem it is. 

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

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

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

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

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

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

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

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

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your knees.” he commands.  

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

Wow.

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

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

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

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

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

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

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

“Spit for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

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

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

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

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

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do this.”

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

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

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

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

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

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

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

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

“Want some help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

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

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

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

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

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

He finds none. 

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

You inch closer. 

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

You let your lips convey the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ahkaahshi]

steadfast [miya osamu x reader]

pairing: miya osamu x fem reader + miya atsumu x reader x suna rintarou

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, group sex (threesome), cuckolding, dirty talk, swearing, praise, daddy kink, deep throating, squirting, brief mentions of jealousy, and just a lil bit of that competitive spirit ya know?

word count: 4.3k

overview: after years of witnessing suna and atsumu shamelessly flirting with his girlfriend, he decides to give them one chance to change her mind knowing damn well she won’t.

By nature, Osamu is observant. Few things escape his attention, whether it’s trace amounts of ice cream disappearing from his tub in the freezer or the longing look you always give him moments before you press your lips against his in an affectionate kiss. Though he wants to pay full attention to the intense game of Super Smash Bros.a few of his former teammates are playing, he can’t help but let his eyes wander to your form as you shuffle into the kitchen to grab another beer. It’s not for you, but for his twin brother who places a lingering touch against the small of your back upon accepting it.

To the untrained eye, the action would appear as a gesture of appreciation and nothing more. But Osamu understood his brother well enough to know that he’d always had a habit--or intention, rather--of being handsy with you. His dark, stone-colored gaze quickly flicks back to the game on the television, however, when you saunter over to him to lean down and place a gentle kiss against his temple.

“Need anything, babe?” you ask, (e/c) eyes tracing over the handsome features of your boyfriend’s face.

He shakes his head and assures you, “Just ‘cause this is our place, don’t mean ya hafta play hostess, y’know.”

“I know,” is your cheerfully spoken response before you turn your attention to the chaos unfolding on-screen. “Damn, who knew Kita-san was good at video games?”

Aran, who overhears your comment, laments, “Not me. This guy acts like it’s his first time holdin’ a controller ‘nd then proceeds to give us an ass-beatin’!” That deceptively sweet smile you’d seen many times before soon spreads across Kita’s lips as he casts it in your direction. Moments later, you notice his chosen character catapult Aran’s off the side of the screen, making the man sigh and hand his controller over to a somewhat unsettled-looking Ren.

The exchange makes you laugh, and your amusement quickly spreads to Osamu, who smiles as he pecks your cheek. “Why don’tcha come sit down, honey?” he suggests, patting his knee and slowly pulling you closer by giving your hand a gentle tug.

“Later. I’m gonna go talk to Rin real quick.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you back away and dart past the television to where Suna’s standing on the balcony outside. Osamu doesn’t miss the lazy grin that tugs at the corners of his friend’s mouth when you greet him and seat yourself on the chair beside him. Though he’s noticed how much of your attention Suna must’ve been aiming to steal away the entire evening, he doesn’t comment or intervene. Instead, he sends a sideways glance at Atsumu, who plops down on the couch beside him, pops another sliver of pickled plum into his mouth that Kita brought with him, and returns his attention to the game onscreen.

It’s not until later that he decides to speak on the issue, when everyone’s left the informal team reunion but Atsumu and Suna. As you’re scanning the apartment for any trash that may have been forgotten—though there’s not much to find since Kita and Aran scolded anyone who so much as left their drink unattended—you find yourself tripping over the rug sprawled across the wooden floor. Atsumu, who’s seated on the couch nearby, avoiding any tasks associated with cleaning up while tapping through his own Instagram story, quickly extends his arms towards you to steady you as you stumble towards him.

Feeling his hands on your hips and hearing him say, “Careful, there, girly,” brings a rush of heat to your neck and face.

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu!” you chirp quickly, pushing yourself away from the couch with haste.

“Anytime, hon,” is his nonchalant response. Normally, you wouldn’t think much of it because he’d developed a habit of giving you affectionate names over the years you’d known him, but, in this situation, his reply has you glancing over your shoulder at Osamu. Though he remains silent and focused on the task at hand, that quiet but dominating presence of his is intense. You know his brother’s actions are hardly going unnoticed, so you hustle into the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes Kita had neatly piled in your sink—which you’d had to practically beg him not to clean for you by insisting that he was your guest.

Osamu’s dark gaze narrows at his brother in a silent warning once you’re occupied again. Atsumu, being competitive and provocative as ever, simply raises an eyebrow at him as a challenge. However, both their attention soon snaps to you when they hear you and Suna snickering about something that must’ve been just hilarious while he helps take care of the dishes. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Osamu’s entirely used to, seeing as he’s always been secure in his relationship with you, but knowing the types of things his friend and his brother have said about you in confidence before the two of you started dating makes a flicker of it burn within him.

Finally, he speaks, not even attempting to hide the curtness to his tone when he questions, “Why don’t the two of ya just fuck ‘er already?”

The silence that befalls the house following his outburst is deafening, and you freeze in your act of handing Suna another plate to stick in the dishwasher. The three of you collectively turn your gazes to him, though theirs clearly portray an intrigue to learn more about what he means.

“What’re ya sayin’ that for, ‘Samu?” Atsumu asks rather coyly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.

However, your boyfriend isn’t having any of his twin’s attitude tonight, since he retorts, “Don’t fuckin’ act like ya don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. I know you’ve been wantin’ her for years now. I see the way you both fawn over her whenever I bring ‘er around.”

“Baby…” you coo softly and dry your hands so you can approach him.

The daggers he sends sticking into you with a sharp glance in your direction stops you in your tracks, though, as do his words. “What? It’s not like yer doin’ anythin’ to stop it.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes sinking to the floor as shame wells up inside of you at the truth his statement holds. You had never intentionally flirted with either of them, but you hadn’t done anything to put an end to their advances. Even though Atsumu and Suna were close friends of yours—and had been since high school, when you’d first met them along with Osamu—you knew they’d both harbored feelings for you at some point over the years. Part of you didn’t stop them because you hadn’t wanted to think the worst, which was that they still had any remnants of desire for you when you were clearly in a committed relationship with Osamu.

However, as you look around and find yourself the subject of not one but three hungry sets of eyes, you realize that they’ve still been hunting you regardless of the fact. “’Samu, I—”

“Do ya wanna let ‘em fuck you?” he interrupts. The fire you can sense burning behind his ash-colored eyes robs you of a response, so he adds, in a softer tone, “’S okay if ya do.”

Atsumu chuckles, “Might not wanna give ‘er the chance since she might rethink her decision about who she chose.”

Without thinking, you shake your head diligently and argue, “I would never leave him.”

“So, is that a yes, then?”

As you take a moment to ponder his inquiry, you notice Osamu moving closer to you before he takes your face in his hands. Tenderly, he kisses your cheek and leans towards your ear so he can murmur, “Why don’tcha let ‘em live out their li’l pipe dream for one night, (f/n)? You’ve got nothin’ ta lose, since I’m the one who suggested it in the first place.” A slow, shuddering breath escapes your lips when he adds, “In fact, I want you to do it. Show ‘em a good time; hell, enjoy yourself too.” He lets his finger run over the gentle curves of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. “I hope they make you feel good—or at least try to, since I know there’s no way they’ll be able ta make you squirt like I can, pretty baby.”

His words quickly fill your core with heat, and you’re consenting with an enthusiastic nod without so much as another thought. A small smile ghosts across his lips for a moment before he gives you a gentle nudge in the direction of the hallway leading to your bedroom, silently telling you to lead the way. Even though your body’s abuzz with excitement at what you’ve willingly gotten yourself into, you can’t help but feel somewhat sheepish at being the subject of three intense gazes. Having them follow you down the narrow hallway makes it somewhat hard for you to breathe, but it’s not long before they’re finding more physical ways of taking your breath away.

Upon entering your bedroom, Atsumu’s the first to paw at your shirt, taking the soft fabric in his grip so he can pull it over your head. Your bra is unclasped moments later and tossed aside haphazardly before you’re pushed onto the bed. The suddenness of your body hitting the mattress makes you squeal, eliciting a low chuckle from Atsumu as he leans over you and captures your lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. While your eyes are closed, you can feel one set of fingers trailing lightly along your sternum while another pair of hands tugs at your pants before removing them, along with your embarrassingly wet panties.

“Mm,” Suna hums gently, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, “Soaked already?”

“Lemme feel.” The fingertips grazing the expanse of skin between your breasts soon travel down closer to your core, plunging inside and emerging coated in your essence. A soft whine escapes your mouth at the fleeting sensation of being somewhat filled, and you watch with half-lidded, (e/c) eyes as Atsumu slides his fingers into his mouth. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he comments before placing another passionate kiss against your lips so he can swipe his tongue along yours to give you a taste. “What did ‘Samu say that gotcha all worked up, honey?”

From where he’s sitting on a chair across from the bed, Osamu grunts, “None of yer damn business. And don’t call ‘er honey.”

Suna understands why Atsumu’s attempts at using this pet name for you are futile when he sees the way you clench around nothing at hearing it leave Osamu’s mouth. “’Samu,” you whimper softly and look in his direction. In spite of the way Suna and Atsumu’s hands feel against your skin, you’re still pining for the familiarity of your boyfriend’s touch. Eager to bring you back to the matter at hand, Atsumu turns your face back towards him and occupies your lips once more.

Meanwhile, Suna sets himself to running his fingers through your glistening folds and pleasuring your sensitive spot, making you moan into Atsumu’s mouth. When his digits venture inside of you, your hips instinctively buck against them, desperate for the thumb you know he’s intentionally keeping away from your clit. “Keep making those pretty sounds, baby,” Suna coaxes, using his free hand to palm his erection through his pants. Between him thrusting his long fingers into your core and Atsumu pinching your nipples with his, it’s not long before you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone.

What pushes you closer to the edge is the smooth, wetness of Suna’s tongue dragging over your slit. “Rin!” you squeal, grinding your hips against his face to get as much contact with his mouth as you can. He squeezes your thighs gently, holding them in place over his shoulders where he kneels on the floor at the side of the bed. At hearing his name leave your mouth between kisses from Atsumu, he rewards your behavior by flattening his tongue against your clit and licking in broad stripes. Suddenly, a wave of ecstasy crashes over you, reducing you to a moaning mess as you cling onto Atsumu’s arms and squeeze Suna’s head between your thighs.

Your wanton cries have all three men in the room mesmerized. However, their awe quickly transforms into something more animalistic, and, in your ecstasy-induced haze, your body is nothing more than putty in their hands as they maneuver you into a different location and position on the bed. You’re vaguely aware of your own hands reaching for Atsumu’s shirt to remove it before unzipping his pants so his erection can spring free.

As you move closer to him to take his cock in your mouth, Atsumu grabs a fistful of your (h/l), (h/c) hair to keep you from doing so. “Oh, sweetheart, I love how eager you are to suck me off, but I’m dyin’ ta see whose cock you like better: mine or ‘Samu’s.” Osamu growls with irritation at this comment but feels his dick throb painfully at knowing what he’s about to witness. With that said, he relinquishes his grip on your strands of hair so that he can readjust your position, bringing you face to face with the tent in Suna’s pants.

This time, it’s him who’s threading his fingers amongst your locks, but with a much gentler and more affectionate grip than Atsumu’s, and his sandy-colored irises fasten on you as you work on unzipping his fly to give him some relief. If anything, knowing he’d just brought you to an orgasm with his mouth spurs you on to use yours so you can do the same for him. The way you eye his erection hungrily once you’ve freed it from the confines of his pants has him tugging your hair backwards to tilt your chin up towards him. He’s always wondered what it’s like to kiss those delicate lips of yours, and they look far too delectable—slightly swollen from Atsumu’s bruising kisses and glistening with the saliva he can see dripping off your tongue—for him to show any restraint now that he’s been given a free pass to do so.

“Are you gonna be good and take all of it?” he wonders, his mouth brushing against yours with each word. Your diligent nod earns you a deep kiss, and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue trailing along yours, carrying the taste of you. “Gonna drool all over my dick for me with that pretty, little mouth of yours?”

You’re barely able to let out a breathless, “Yes,” before his lips are over yours once more. But, just as quickly as his onslaught of kisses started, he’s pulling away and moving your head down south. Saliva collects in your mouth at the sheer size of him, and you cast him a demure glance up at him through your eyelashes as you lick a long trail from the base to the tip, causing a low groan to rumble in his throat.

At feeling the head of Atsumu’s cock teasing your sensitive clit, a whimper rolls off your tongue. “I’m gonna fuck this sweet, little pussy of yours so good, (f/n),” your boyfriend’s twin murmurs, his hands moving your hips so he can push the tip inside of you, “so you’d better take it like a good girl.”

“Don’t hurt ‘er, dumbass,” Osamu barks, the hand he has shoved down his sweatpants coming to a halt at the thought of your comfort being compromised by his brother’s greed and desire to show off. “She’s sensitive.”

“Oh?” Atsumu challenges as he inches more of his cock inside of you, making you remove your mouth from Suna’s dick to mewl loudly and drop your head towards the comforter. “It’s ‘cause yer not used to bein’ filled up are ya, sweetheart?” Another lascivious cry from you is stifled by the thick duvet when he snaps his hips against yours, sending himself deeper into your clenched core. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of ya in all the ways ‘Samu can’t.”

Osamu’s face burns ever so slightly with humiliation and anger, but he finds he can’t tear his gaze away from the scene before him. He watches in silence as Atsumu’s fingers dig into the supple skin on your rear and snake around your hips, pulling you closer to him as he sheathes more of his cock in your greedy cunt. Then, his eyes are darting to where your pretty lips are wrapped around Suna’s dick, eyes gazing upwards at him in an affectionate manner that he thought was only reserved for himself.

He feels as if he should be enraged by the whole situation—by the way he’s being forced to sit and watch while his brother and his friend fuck your pussy and your mouth, respectively—but he isn’t. In spite of being excluded and having derogatory remarks thrown his way by Atsumu like daggers, he loves it. He loves every moan of their names that leaves your mouth because of how good they’re making you feel, as well as the hungry looks in their eyes at how good you’re making them feel. Because no matter what his twin says about how he’s “gonna make ya feel better than ‘Samu ever will,” he knows he’s wrong. In a scenario where Osamu should be the one feeling inferior, his ability not to lose sight of what he knows is the truth is what keeps the warmth burning in his stomach.

No matter how much you drool all over Suna’s cock while he thrusts deeply into your mouth, batting your eyelashes at him each time he sends a compliment your way, he knows whose pants you’re pulling down after he’s had a long day at work. Even as Atsumu’s hips snapping against yours reap a myriad of mewls or moans from your mouth that bring a self-satisfied smirk to his face, he’s confident that you’ll always be louder for him. Nobody knows how to treat you quite like Osamu does, and nobody knows how to fuck you like he does either.

So, as he slowly strokes himself off to the sight before him, he’s able to ignore the sting of every off-handed comment thrown his way and the sound of you begging Atsumu for more in the moments when Suna’s dick isn’t down your throat. He might as well let them have all the fun they want with you, seeing as it’ll be their last time doing so. He only intended to give them a taste of how good you are as a way of getting back at them for all of their shameless advances towards you in the first place. What’s better revenge than giving them something amazing that they can only remember, but never recreate? Nothing, he thinks.

“Lemme cum inside ya, pretty girl,” Atsumu coos, though his voice is raspy from his heavy breathing as he slams into you. Removing your mouth from Suna’s dick with a loud pop, you shake your head, making them both look at you with raised eyebrows. “Why not?” he asks.

Osamu nearly finishes on the spot when you whine, “Only ‘Samu can.”

Atsumu shoots his brother a withering look that he beats down with a smirk but obeys your wishes anyway. “Whatever ya want, princess,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss against your spine before continuing to thrust into you at a breakneck pace that has you crying out with ecstasy in no time.

Your breathy moans sending vibrations along Suna’s dick have him finishing inside of your mouth, and you swallow his seed as you sink into the bed once more. Atsumu’s hands keep your hips flush against his as he plunges into your spasming core until he can hardly take the sensations your body’s offering him anymore. Once it gets too much for him to handle, he obediently pulls out of you and cums on your back, spreading warmth along your skin and eliciting another whimper from you.

As you come down from your highs, you feel Suna’s long fingers stroke the side of your face affectionately, as if trying to communicate the praises he can’t find the words for. Meanwhile, Atsumu takes one last look at your back coated in his release before grabbing a tissue and cleaning you up. “So,” he mentions, interrupting himself to place a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck, “whaddya think? Did we change your mind?”

There’s not even a moment of hesitation before you shake your head and reiterate, “I’ll never leave him.” The soreness you feel settling into your body does nothing to quell the warmth in your belly, especially with the way Osamu’s gazing at you hungrily from his seat at the other end of the room. It’s almost as if your body moves by itself as you get up from the bed and shuffle over to him so you can seat yourself in his lap. “I want you, baby,” you breathe as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

A shit-eating grin appears on his lips as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You moan softly at the bulge in his pants pressing against your sensitive entrance as he mentions, loudly enough for the other men in the room to hear, “How cute. Even after getting’ fucked by them two, ya still only wanna be stuffed full of my cum, huh?”

“Please.” Your plea escapes you in a soft whine when he bestows a fleeting kiss against your lips. He hums into the tender skin on your neck, eyeing Suna and Atsumu over your shoulder while he does so as if to clearly convey to them who’s won this challenge. However, his silent gloating is soon put to an end when you wriggle your hips against his, move your face closer to his ear and beg, “Please, daddy.”

In an instant, he’s barking at Suna and Atsumu to get off the bed so he can push you down onto it. “So good for me, honey.” Osamu’s loving words have you clenching around nothing as he shoves off his sweatpants and positions himself at your entrance. “Shoulda never doubted ya. I know how much you love me, don’tcha, baby girl?” he muses, flooding you with heat once more.

“Mm!” you chirp enthusiastically, “I love you so much, ‘Samu.”

His smooth voice becomes ever so slightly strained as he pulls your hips towards him, slides his cock into your warm, velvety core, and replies, “I love you too, (f/n).” Having him inside you once more brings you a pleasant sensation of comfort that you felt as if you’d been missing earlier, and you reach for one of his hands. Sensing your desire to be more connected with him, he wraps his fingers around yours and presses the back of your hand against the mattress beside your head.

You moan softly at being filled once more when he bottoms out inside of you. Glancing over at where Suna and Atsumu are sitting nearby, he comments, “Ya feel so good, honey,” and increases the volume of his voice before adding, “it’s like yer sweet, li’l pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

“Just for you, daddy,” you agree with a small smile, eliciting a low groan from him and spurring him to start thrusting into you with long, deep strokes. From where he’s standing at the edge of the bed, he’s able to lift your hips upwards to drive himself even deeper into you than he’s sure Atsumu could reach. Any overstimulation you felt initially has since been replaced by pleasure once more as he showers you with kisses accompanied by compliments that you confirm enthusiastically, earning you more of what you want.

“Why don’tcha tell ‘em whose cock ya love the most, baby girl?”

You cry out his name once.

“Who’s making ya feel so good right now?”

Twice.

“Who’s gonna make ya cum harder ‘nd faster?”

Thrice.

He leans down towards you to press those slow, passionate kisses against your lips that you’d missed so much, spreading your legs further and pounding into you with more speed. It’s clear he knows the map of your body that he’s made through experience like the back of his hand, since he’s able to hit that sweet spot within you time after time with more accuracy and precision than anyone else could. “Right there!” you cry, fingers dragging along the muscles rippling beneath the skin on his arms as your toes curl.

A few more thrusts send you over the edge again, and the strength of your orgasm is felt by every man in the room. Atsumu and Suna realize your cries are much louder than they were before, and Osamu smiles when he feels you squirt as your walls clench tightly around him. He doesn’t mind that you’re getting his clothes and the comforter covered in your essence—he only cares that he’s delivered the promise he’d made for you earlier. It’s not long before he reaches his high and fills you up with stuttering snaps of his hips and labored breaths. You moan breathlessly at the sensation of warmth inside your core, and let your head come to rest against the bed while he finishes inside of you.

As much as you want nothing more than to crawl under the sheets with him and rest, you’re reminded of your guests when Osamu casts his dark gaze in their direction. “Ya got whatcha wanted. Go home,” he announces, eyes narrowing at his twin brother who, along with Suna, are clearly still in awe at what they’ve witnessed. 

Turning back to you and planting a tender kiss against your collarbone while they rise to their feet and head for the door, Osamu adds deviously, “So much for rethinkin’ her decision, huh? Now ya know why she won’t.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen​, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin​

osamu: @pretty-setters​, @misora-msby​, @why-aminot-dead​, @atsunakaashi​, @heyhinata​, @why-aminot-dead​

[henqtic]

Can you do a draco x reader with us watching a film and reader saying how they’re crushing over a certain character

𝘭𝘦𝘰’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k (1674)

authors note: just pretend that the battle of hogwarts never happened— that event ruins everything :/ and thanks for requesting !! it made me get a lot more inspiration to finish my other wips <3

masterlist. // taglist form. // request more works.

—————————

the room smelled of freshly buttered popcorn, soft drinks, and unhealthy snacks and for the same reason the night celebration was in place, strong mint gum. tonight was cleared, a time for you and draco to just relax, cuddle up within each other and have a break from everything going around.

the years after graduating a boarding school were life changing, even wizards themselves who could conjure up almost anything they’d ever want or possibly dream of but still, it was the time of realization for who and what you wanted to be.

and yes, there were the newts but they didn’t help much once you really got a look into the real world. many had found a passion in something that seemed wondrous— more fun. traveling and exploring the world, maybe even discovering more mystical creatures that hadn’t been learned in a simple care of magical creatures class and weren't seen in their own time because their parents didn't have the resources.

and some were set on everything but those test scores, a family business awaiting their sole airs take over and draco well, he was a part of that some. and surprisingly enough, even after all that time and all of those expectations set on him to live up to and stay in his family standard, he didn’t, and it was much to your encouragement.

his interest in healing sprung up in his last year of schooling coming to the conclusion that he’d been a prejudiced bully— not that he hadn’t already known that but, of course he did. but once he was left with less than five friends and a girlfriend who was steadily distancing herself further and further away from him, it set in.

so that’s where it started, him identifying nearly all of his mistakes and attempting to heal what had been broken relationships— which most never really did. but it was a change, and a good one at that, it brought him an inner joy, not for the factor of him getting things out of it like you wanting to be in his company more often but that he was mending the seemingly unfixable things.

it made him want to do that and not run a stuffy business that didn't do much but treat their workers poorly and customers even worse so he turned to medicine. observing how so many things lined up with potions, adding the right amount of this, and crushing that up the right way, to make a final product. a product that would soon heal the injured and bring a great smile to both of their faces.

but what he hadn’t realized was that being a healer took time and hard work— almost unusual to someone like him, being constantly handled things and easy ways out but with this, there was no fast tracking or getting anywhere if you didn’t have the right skill set or talents.

so to say he wasn’t ready for it would be a wrong statement. but to say he was exhausted, completely drained of all energy would be completely right. even after all of your cheering on, reminding him that it was only a few more months of studying and one big more test until he’d get to know if he earned his title of healer malfoy.

and usually, that worked, but after tonight after taking that so called big test, his mind was racked with anxiousness. if he didn’t pass, his father would be on his back, telling him how it was a waste of money and how he should've listened to him to that you’d even be disappointed in him— unlikely but as said before, there was nothing but anxious thoughts and anxious scenarios coming through.

so it was painfully clear that your natural remedies wouldn’t work, countless amount of neck kisses and back rubs and muscle soothing not sufficing so you both agreed on the last thing you couldn’t think about, a simple night with the television on, just in each other’s company to try and get his mind off of things—

“you said this was a muggle film, correct?” he called out for confirmation, eyeing the packaging of the movie you called.. the titanic?

“mhm, one of my favorite movies, i just know you’ll love it,” you said from the other side of the living room with a wide smile on your face, near close to beating a cheshire cats. the movie itself was beautiful, you couldn’t lie, the directing and acting brought tears to your eyes almost every time you watched it.

but there was ‘something’ else that could bring tears to your eyes, a gazing stare at the screen whenever his parts would come on.

draco handed you the plastic, allowing you to remove the disk and insert it into the dvd player. you quickly made your way back into the make shift bed made out of blankets and pillows and once the black screen turned green, copyrighted warnings started, you tucked yourself into his awaiting arms.

“why’d you say you loved this again?” he asked for the second time, limbs wrapped around your body as you searched for a response.

“umm, really eye catching.”

and yeah, of course, you were comfortable with him, growing up going to the same school for months at a time and then dating for a good fraction of those years. there was also the memory of a night where you two tirelessly played a game of dare or dare, multitudes of dares coming both your ways to say the most embarrassing, weird, or even azkaban worthy things you’ve done.

but it was something else telling him that you were crushing over a fictional character— who wasn’t even that since the story was true but you were crushing on the actor of that said fictional character that you had no chance with and that, well it was something better left unsaid.

and as it went on, he could see that too, the way your eyes were stuck onto the screen the other blonde was in frame— on the break of amusing how’d the only time your attention would shift is when he’d reach you another piece of popcorn, you offering a grateful smile before focusing back.

your mouth was slightly agape, opening for another piece just how the rhythm had been going, him eating one, him feeding you one, him eating one and so on but now he was beating it further and further away from before your body eventually gave up, falling on his chest.

“hey, why’d you that?” you groaned, annoyed that you were now looking at him from below instead of watching the film.

“why’d you say you picked this again?” his eyes were narrowed down at you, a sly smirk in place. you moved around, trying to remember your excuse and hide the growing smile arising to your face.

“I already told you, it’s eye catching.”

“no,no,no, who’s eye catching?” he asked again, this time correcting himself in order to get a more truthful response. you let out a half embarrassed, half astonished laugh before answering—

“if i tell you, you can’t laugh.” all he did was raise his eyebrows at you, positioning you on his lap, signaling for you to go on with two taps of his finger on your thighs.

“okay well—” you paused, a loss of words and a huff following, “all i’m saying is if jack were to run me over... i’d be the one to apologize.”

your tone of seriousness only made the barks of laughter from the boy underneath you louder, a small pout coming on your face as a response trying to not end up laughing at yourself—

“jack, are you serious? he’s one of the most basic people i’ve seen,” he said through breaths of air, slight tones of jealousy coming out making your head turn in feign sympathy.

“you do know that i’m dating you, right?”

“yea and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“your eyes are blue and hair is blonde and you’re the typical skinny wh—” you started, responding to his defensiveness in the best way possible.

“it sounds like you’re just describing him.” point completely missed. “and so what, what could a fictional character do for you that i couldn’t?” he asked with a smirk, your face saying nothing but unfazed and unamused.

“fine even though if you were listening you'd know that he’s not completely fictional, but everything. would you ever go down with me on an unsinkable ship and then let me survive only the door we could find?” you asked, sighing after like it’d been a dream of yours.

“no. love, take this as me caring for you but i don’t think we’d sink on an unsinkable ship— it’s in the name.”

“were you not listening? and stop, it’s romantic, don’t ruin this for me,” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm.

“they both could’ve gotten on, jack just wasn’t the brightest. and would you really rather date someone that daft over me?” his nose scrunched to further show his disgust, your scoff not failing to sound after.

“know what, if you were a fictional character, no one would like you.”

“sure, i bet i’d have at least two hundred of you treating me like him.” the smugness in his tone was apparent than ever. you loved him, more than anything in the world but, he wasn’t much compared to jack dawson. 

and then came the other obstacle, there not being a valid way to prove to someone like him, with such an inflated ego that no one would like a fictional character version of him. and when you repeated that, he was extremely butt hurt, still allowing his arms to reopen for you to snuggle back in.

single moments passed, another film starting to ease the argument before he spitefully grumbled, “i’d have people all over me.”

“no you wouldn’t!” you whisper shouted back tilting your head up to see his pouting face. 

“yes I would, don’t doubt me—”

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