#him now back doing his boyband thing he's probably gonna get a lot of admirers now

[fabuloustrash05]

Poppy: It’s perfectly normal for a Troll to flirt with someone who’s in a relationship. It’s not like they’d know right away. Bridget: So you wouldn’t mind if another girl flirted with Branch? Poppy: Oh no, I’d punch that skank into next week, but that’s besides the point.

#him now back doing his boyband thing he's probably gonna get a lot of admirers now #lots of fangirls fawning over him #but Poppy's in the crowd being his number one fan always #wearing an I <3 Branch shirt and holding up a giant sign XD #incorrect trolls quotes #incorrect quotes #trolls #trolls world tour #trolls 2 #trolls band together #trolls 3 #trolls poppy #queen poppy #trolls bridget #trolls branch #branch #broppy #branch x poppy #dreamworks

[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!

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bulletproof boy scouts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #dom!jungkook #dom!jk #dom jk #dom jungkook

[coolnerdyandalone]

on FIMQ deleting her content and COVID-19 (and a gratuitous larry fic rec)

@freddiesmyqueen first of all queen i hope you’re doing ok although i know some shit must have gone down for you to delete/private list all your videos and i hope you know that the larry community supports you always. Also your talent is TRULY unmatched in the world of video editing - no one makes edits quite like you and that’s why your loss impacts the community so profoundly. 

secondly, i know at least i was hoping to turn to rewatching all of FIMQ’s videos while i’m being quarantined due to the coronavirus. and i’m willing to bet that i’m not the only one. this is a scary time and for people like me who feel profoundly alone right now, the only way for me to calm my nerves and fears is by reverting to the content and community that helped me feel not so alone when i was in middle and high school. For me, that looks like watching FIMQ videos and reading my favorite larry fanfics (which i will also link below).  because of this i thought it might be helpful to repost some links that were posted by @bluemoonlarryandkaylor for a signal boost (if my teeny-tiny account can be called a signal boost). 

link to a google drive with FIMQ videos: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1ONwfLOd_IYvAL5OUDqDb_LLgQsDpd9il

link to an acct with some FIMQ re-uploads: https://www.youtube.com/user/Joana3961/videos

link to FIMQ vids with spanish subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIouodFhArMkQhOHxv2t2NgxTwl6KvXAT

and now if you want to look at some good old fashioned larry fics that are my ABSOLUTE faves and could 100% be actual novels/movies, keep reading:

And Then A Bit** by @infinitelymint aka the best fanfic ever written (basically larry fakes a relationship for publicity with each other and it could be cannon if you really wanted to hope upon hopes): https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415272/chapters/2972746 (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Escapade** by @haydolce aka the Jack McQueen fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034197/chapters/9071932 (146k)

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

California Sold** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157680/chapters/11877494 (123k)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Bring Your Body Baby (I Could Bring You Fame) by @theboyfriendstagram : https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263903/chapters/9652944 (84k)

Eighteen year old Harry Styles just graduated high school and landed a summer job as a waterboy for his favorite football team. His job description is simple: be ready to hand water and towels to players if needed. That didn’t seem to include Louis Tomlinson though, a twenty-three year old, recently transferred Paris Saint-German player, who seems to like making Harry’s job much more difficult than it has to be.

OR  

A self-indulgent AU that takes place over the summer of 2015. 18 year old Harry hates pining after people he can't have, and 23 year old footballer Louis loves flirting with people even though it never means anything.

Pull Me Under** by @zarah5 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/870766/chapters/1672104 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.) 

You You You** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/846690/chapters/1617212 (137k)

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

Like an Endless Summer by @horsegirlharry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365494/chapters/25442085 (87k)

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Three French Hems by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064493 (20k)

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

The Dead of July aka the Marvel Fic by @whimsicule  : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594570/chapters/7928520 (117k)

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Gods & Monsters by  @mizzwilde : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871 (201k)

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Love is a Rebellious Bird aka LIARB aka the orchestra fic aka dont hum bolero by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438/chapters/2362331 (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

My English Love Affair** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873962 (19k)

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by @haydolce : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799241/chapters/13366498 (113k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Wild and Unruly aka the Cowboy fic by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723093/chapters/6099611 (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December)** by @greenfeelings​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051122/chapters/34892210 (128k)

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

the boys of fall** aka the american football fic by @godgavemelou​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443037 (21k)

“And everyone, this is Harry Styles. He’s going to be our starting quarterback this year.”

Louis looks at him, the tall and lanky Harry Styles, and takes it all in. He’s got hair to his shoulders that curls at the ends, tattoos all down his arms, and a bright smile on his face as the team cheers him on. He’s lean and fit, and absolutely beautiful, and Louis hates him to the core.

OR an american football au where the boys play for the university of tennessee, and harry and louis quite hate each other.

** indicates that the fic is a log-in required fic, but if you want the pdf i can send it to you

#FIMQ #freddieismyqueen #freddiesmyqueen #larry #Larry Stylinson #larry proof #LARRY IS REAL #Larry theory #covid2019 #covid_19 #coronavirus #quarantine #loneliness #alone #not alone #community #larry community #larry videos #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry fanfic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec

[ohwiseswami]

VIXX: An Outsiders Perspective

Now, I’ve decided on doing a VIXX critique using this formula because I’m very new to their work. As requested by some followers, I’ve crammed in as much information as I could about their music recently and want to share my thoughts on them and where they could improve. 

Let’s start.

The Good

Niche Music: VIXX is probably the most eclectic group I’ve done so far in that many of their singles are, essentially, pop-rock tracks. They are not a ‘hippity-hoppity, let’s throw on a blackcent and a bandana’ type of group, which, I argue, gives them space at the table in the music industry. Of all the groups I can think of, it’s them that is doing this capitalism thing right. People want differentiation in products and with VIXX being Nickelback-meets-NSYNC in an industry of Skrillex-meets-Chris Brown-meets-Soulja Boy’s, it’s actually kind of refreshing

Surprisingly Decent Vocal Line: VIXX stans can argue all day whether Jaehwan (Ken) or Taekwoon (Leo) is the superior vocal, but it’s obvious it’s Hakyeon (N). Let me tell you why: N has a stronger vocal technique than either Leo or Ken from what I’ve seen. Now, I know I could use to watch more VIXX performances but, as I said, from what I’ve seen N protects his voice more than the other two. Funnily enough, Ken is actually my favorite of them all. His tone is just agreeable. Even so, I find it difficult to find too many issues with Leo’s voice because he has the best stage presence of them all--bringing emotion into his performances that feels genuine--even if it’s not much

Creative Involvement: Hate him or love him, Wonsik (Ravi) is involved in just about every VIXX release that immediately comes to mind. And while this isn’t a requirement for me to find an idol good at what they do (will get into the distinction between artist and idol another time), I find it admirable. This is especially so since VIXX has some songs with very powerful lyrical content and meaning

Recent Improvement in Music Production: While my section on VIXX’s music will come later, I want to note now that VIXX’s latest release sounds very crisp and clean, which is a sign of improvement. Anytime a group grows, I always find it in me to give them a plus on the improvement. But seriously, their releases used to sound like they were recorded on a flip phone from a radio station that played it from a 1942 record player. It was a whole low-sonic quality mess. Now it finally sounds like what 2k HD looks like

The ‘Needs to Improve’

Dance Line: 

Current - While I find Hakyeon lighter than air and graceful in his movement, he does not captivate me. His dancing lacks energy at times and can even be seen as lethargic. He can’t even hold charismatic facial expressions because of it. While he delivers at times (his TOXIC routine is gold), he usually looks flat out exhausted. Perhaps this has something to do with being the main dancer in a group with only one back up for him?

Improvement - That said, I think Hakyeon can be saved. It’s clear that he has talent but not the proper outlet to show it. What I argue needs to happen for the dance line, particularly Hakyeon is a change in VIXX’s dancing style. I think that with more gender-fluid choreography, Hakyeon’s style could shine through. He looks best when performing choreography that isn’t attached to the mainstream kpop style for boy groups. Injecting feminine energy into VIXX’s choreography would make for a more lively performance than their typical point dances (if you’re curious as to what I mean, I urge you to check out Taemin’s MOVE or watch a strip show)

Music:

Current - VIXX’s music, for lack of a better term, is dated. The music they debuted with was about 5 years behind the industry (which was already five years behind the American industry) and they’re just now playing catch-up with their latest release. When I listen to some of those songs, I get the distinct feeling that VIXX watched SHINee Lucifer once and decided to model their entire discography off of it. Even to their latest release, it sounds like something EXO would’ve released in 2016. Now, you can argue that older-sounding music is a good thing, but in VIXX’s case, it’s not. Their music is not timeless, it’s just usually dated on arrival 

Improvement - Even with their music being dated, it’s still different from the norm and has a sound that no other kpop group since VIXX’s debut has even wanted to touch. They can easily take this sound and update it, giving them a 2013 Paramore feel (which, 2013 Paramore still sounds like fresh alternative rock music)

Current - A lot of their music sounds the same. There’s some standouts like Love Me Do and Only U, but most of it sounds like different variations of songs like Error and Chained Up

Improvement - See: Paramore. Seriously. I’m not talking about their most recent album but in albums before that they still had music that felt like Paramore without being the same thing rehashed. I think VIXX could ultimately go the soft EDM-pop rock fusion route and eliminate the High School Musical 4 sound that invades many of their songs

Visuals:

Current - VIXX’s music videos aren’t horrible, not even by a stretch. They’re just not interesting. This is pretty standard in kpop, but that doesn’t mean they should shoot for the sky when they can have the moon. Their concepts are usually so interesting and so different from the norm that they could really get creative with their music videos

Improvement - VIXX finally got their hands on cameras that weren’t attached to iPhones, so can they now get a VFX and SFX team to bring their concepts to life without looking like a cheesy low budget mess? I know they come from a smaller company and may not have the money to really go all out but I think it’s worth a shot to find a good production team to execute their concepts better. At the very least, they could use better direction and maybe even give their videos a story line. Am I the only one who’d find a plot for Chained Up dope, especially since the song itself tells a story?

The Irredeemable

Get rid of Ravi. There, I said it, it’s done. 

I know VIXX stans gonna hate my ass lmao. But, I’m not saying he’s a bad artist/not talented/etc. I just don’t know that he’s right for VIXX’s progression as a musical performance entity. Here is my main reason:

VIXX should be a vocal k-pop/rock group. They don’t need a rapper, never did. In fact, rap portions usually do not advance VIXX’s songs. Instead, it sounds like forcing a YG-reject to fit in with a SHINee/CNBlue hybrid experiment. Ravi’s an okay singer, but he’s not good enough to eat at the table with Ken and Leo, who are more like ex-EXO/DBSK members to me

Another thing that limits VIXX is the fact that they are very boybandish at times. Now you may say, ‘Sis, they are a boyband,’ but this crtique isn’t about what VIXX is, it’s about what they could be. VIXX has the potential to be the emo cousin of EXO, with moody concepts and experimental choreography. I know some of them play instruments as well, which could only add to their new identity once we’ve cut them down. The South American and Southeast Asian markets would eat that up, especially since VIXX is already so good at it

Also, maybe not be trash? I kind of wanted to avoid this, but it’s hard to do considering the fact that all I knew about VIXX before working on this was the fact that N was bullied into submission by the members and some of them have said some vile things that only compete with the likes of Suju for their level of trashness. The main reason why I wanted to mention this is because of what I see for VIXX’s path in the future (I also want to note that I didn’t let this color my musical critique of VIXX)

I see VIXX as a staple in Latin America and Southeast Asia, but it’s hard to do when you’re constantly shit-talking the looks of the people who inhabit these areas. Dark skin and Tanned skin are beautiful and nothing to be ashamed of. Pale skin isn’t superior and calling someone a “half-breed” as an insult isn’t funny? All it does is alienates potential fans from the markets that would be open to your style the most. Because, if I’m being honest, I don’t know many people from where I’m from (probably the whitest place in America) that would be too into VIXX’s music and concepts. Their wave is more appropriate for places like Brazil and The Phillipines. If they want to grow their audience, they need to grow as people 

Final Thoughts

Hongbin and Hyuk both remind me of Sehun. Take that as you want.

VIXX is not meant for the Bangtan trajectory. They have their own special place in kpop that is so unique from other groups that they shouldn’t worry themselves with North American success. I think they’re talented men with something to prove, and with a little adjustment, they can become a niche phenomenon 

#vixx #n #ken #leo #hongbin #hyuk #hakyeon #taekwoon #jaehwan #vixx n #vixx ken #vixx leo #kpop #critique #pretty-irish

[duchessofdongs]

Little Things to Think About (Final Fantasy XV Scenarios)

 Noctis getting so mad at this one fish like he’s spent hours sitting at a dock, he’s already lost three lures to this thing and he’s getting progressively more and more pissed off until the point where when Ignis comes to check up on him Noct has already abandoned his pole and is currently wrestling with that fish in the water he’s gonna get it Iggy just watch

The guys actually being mistaken for a boy band like maybe Prompto hears some factory workers in Lestallum talking about them at a cafe and they’re wondering about what kind of band they were and the workers ultimately decide, with Noct obviously being the lead singer, they were probably a punk-pop indie band

Prompto wants to be offended (onlyalittle) but he can’t argue with the logic once he realizes they’re basically a boy band holy shit we can make gil off this can noct sing??

no wait imagine prompto being the one to intercept in altissia when the guy asks why they’re there like just as ignis is about to say his excuse prompto just fuckin blurts out ‘we’re a boyband performing at the arena come see us live tonight at 8 pm sharp’ and ignis just rolls with it

The boys actually getting kinda uncomfortable with Gladio just not buttoning up his jacket not because they don’t like the view (theylikeitalot) it’s just that they don’t understand he has shirts they’ve seen him with a tanktop on he just never buttons up that jacket why why is this

Ignis just gets pissed off cuz he’s the one applying bandages and potions to the only incredibly vulnerable spot on Gladio’s body it’s bad enough Noctis can’t even keep the godsdamned buttons on his HIS jacket 

Noctis gets hit with some serious confusion ailments during a hunt and he’s not delirious enough to take out a sword and start swinging at Gladio because he thinks he’s an Iron Giant (has happened more than once) but just enough that he starts seeing Carbuncle and starts talking to him in a slurred, confused voice and the guys just let him go on and on talking to his imaginary fox friend with a horn made out of ruby yeah sure Noct

No but the guys actually think that Carbuncle is just some imaginary friend that Noct sometimes mentions until one day, under some magical circumstance, they’re all sitting around the campfire at camp and Carbuncle kinda struts out behind a bush and Noct just casually picks him up and puts him on his lap to pet him (he loves them ear rubs) and EVERYONE JUST LOOKS AT HIM LIKE HE’S INSANE ARE YOU KIDDING HE’S REAL THIS WHOLE TIME YOUR ‘IMAGINARY FRIEND’ HAS BEEN REAL THIS WHOLE TIME

One time Noct got recognized as the prince in a really small town/village and he got swarmed by a group of fangirls and of course Ignis has to go into Bodyguard!Ignis mode and it’s just like back in Insomnia when the paparazzi would gather in the lobby of Noct’s apartment before an event and Ignis has to carve his way through with the Prince behind him straight to the Regalia

Noct actually falling off the back of the Regalia when Ignis has to either brake or make a sharp turn and it’s because he was sitting up there again Noct how many times has Ignis warned you about that 

Noctis and Ignis having a real fight like a really serious argument maybe about Noct not taking his royal duties seriously enough when he needs to and Noct yelling that Ignis doesn’t understand the kind of pressure he’s under and they both have to separate to cool down for a while

Gladio and Prompto witness the whole thing and then proceed to be mediators; Gladio talks to Ignis while Iggy does angry stress baking and Prompto cheers up Noct with a little impromptu fishing trip in the lake by the motel they’re staying at

The moment after Noct has a mini-breakdown after the Marilith is dead in the Brotherhood series and he’s crying by the ocean and the boys just comfort him until he gets tired and apologizes for yelling at them earlier but they totally get it it was rough man

Somebody actually ACKNOWLEDGES the fact that since Regis is dead then Clarus must be dead too I just why didn’t we have that scene in game like Gladio HAS to know his dad’s dead but he never grieves Iris never talks about it no one ever brings up Clarus I DON’T THINK CLARUS IS EVEN MENTIONED IN THE GAME

Iris would definitely take it hard but big brother Gladdy is there to help her out. He’s grieving too but he feels stupid for doing it because his father was always there to remind him that since he was the King’s Shield there was always a chance that one day he won’t come home 

Noct and Gladio kinda grieve together since both of their dads are dead but they got each other to rely on now and they share a short moment together when Noct gets him to open up about the issue

Cindy becomes a temporary fifth member to the group when an issue needs her attention on the road (idk what im not clever enough to come up with one) and of course the guys are worried about keeping her safe but they get ambushed by sabertusks and stay close to Cindy during battle but a stray sabertusk tries to corner her and Cindy straight up punches it into the ground

She learned how to take care of herself with her and Paw-Paw living around so many demon spots and not only is she good with her fists, she also did a little self defense with a gun

Prompto lets her borrow one of his guns while she’s with them the boy is absolutely smitten with her she’s so amazing

They boys meet Ravus again during a ‘bust-a-base’ quest and he comes with a small troop of soldiers... which Ravus himself destroys when they least expect it. Turns out Ravus, reluctantly, wants to ally himself with Noctis because Niflheim is starting to get out of control and Noctis needs to fix things now

Ravus becomes a double-agent for the royal retinue, feeding them little bits and pieces of information when he knows the empire can’t hear him and helping them make their way to Altissia by getting Commodore Aranea to cross paths with the prince because he knows she’s becoming more and more hesitant to help the Empire

Things become slightly better between Ravus and Noctis because they talk more and Ravus realizes that his anger towards Noctis was supposed to be towards the empire but he’s far too proud to ever properly apologize

Which makes it hurt even more when Ravus is tricked by Ardyn in Gralea and Gladio and Ignis have to tell Noctis and Prompto that Ravus is dead

And Ravus is brought back as a demon-corpse hybrid and he’s trying so hard to not hurt them but he can’t control his body anymore he can’t control Ardyn’s magic in his body he can only beg them to kill him so he can’t hurt anyone anymore

The boys coming to their own conclusion when they see that Noct has disappeared and Ardyn is too cryptic for them they can’t understand so they wait for hours, days maybe just waiting for any sign that Noct is alive in there

They eventually have to leave because the demons are still there but they can’t take the crystal and they don’t know what to do without Noctis so they just... leave

They leave and make contact with Aranea, using the number Prompto still remembers on his phone. She asks them where the prince is and they have to tell her that they have no idea where he’s gone

It’s a long trip back to Lucis and it’s mostly filled with silence and grief

Everyone looked so excited to see them back, but their faces fall once they realize the prince, their King, isn’t with them and the guilt and shame is so clear on their faces

Talcott wakes up one night to talking and he recognizes some of those voices so he gets out of bed to go greet the prince and ask him about all his cool adventures, did he meet lady Lunafreya, did they get married, did Leviathan look cool, did you find the Crystal

“Prince Noctis?”

A month passes and everyone panics when they wake up one morning and the sun hadn’t risen; the world is completely dark and devoid of any light and Noctis is still gone

The guys stay together for at least the first year of the Long Night but then Gladio has to take a hunt in Tenebrae because Iris is going and she can’t be talked out of it so he has to go with her. Prompto and Ignis understand and they stay together to continue their own research into demons and Ardyn and waiting for Noctis to come back because he will come back

But then Cor asks Prompto to come with him to Altissia because they need one more hunter on their trip and the demons crawling there are too dangerous for inexperienced hunters. Ignis understands and he’s the one who has to talk Prompto into taking it because Ignis can’t hunt but he can read braille and take notes and Prompto needs to be out there helping.

The three of them don’t see each other a lot after that

Ignis gets so tired of being cast to the side and treated differently because he can’t see anymore and this motivates him to teach himself how to fight again because he will not allow himself to be useless when people are in danger

He dedicates nearly all of his time training to use daggers again, setting up the training dummies himself and teaching himself to rely on sound and smell to find out where his enemies are. He always does it alone; he knows that if someone were with him, they would try to stop him and he cannot allow that

Talcott watches him quietly from a high-up balcony from where Ignis has set everything up. He found him training one day when he came over to bring more books from the Lestallum library and he couldn’t help but watch. He knows Ignis’ training schedule and he always shows up just to make sure Ignis doesn’t hurt himself. He admires Ignis’ will and strength and Ignis becomes Talcott’s motivation to become a hunter because if a blind man can do it, then so can he.

Talcott actually approaches Ignis on cooking lessons. Ignis is flattered but he politely declines since he can’t see, let alone teach. But Talcott doesn’t want Ignis to teach him; he wants to teach Ignis. 

Talcott helps Ignis become reacquainted with the kitchen and Ignis is happy to help Talcott train as a hunter

They’re both so proud of how the other has come

When Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis are together again during a hunt to take down a Starscourge-infected Behemoth after at least a year of not even talking to each other. Gladio and Prompto are surprised to see Ignis there and they give not to subtle hints that maybe this is too dangerous for him but Ignis merely brushes them off and leads the way with a confident walk

They come across the Behemoth chowing down and what looks like a mangled Anak corpse but they aren’t sure. Ignis, ever the strategist, comes up with the plan while the two of them are still trying to get him to tap out cuz this is going to be a big hunt and they don’t want to see him get hurt

Cut immediately to Ignis throwing his daggers at the Behemoth’s eyes to blind it, throw a Blizzara spell at the beast’s feet to knock it down and disorient it and then proceeding to slice it’s stomach open and claim the kill

Gladio and Prompto are beyond impressed and Ignis decides to take a tooth as both a trophy and a souvenir for Talcott

There are times where they come to believe that maybe Noctis won’t ever come back and they’re going to be stuck in the darkness forever

Regardless, they still get together every year for birthdays, especially Noct’s

Because no matter what, they need to rely on each other to bring even a sliver of light into days filled with never ending darkness

There was one particular encounter that instilled hope in all of them:

Year eight of the Night

Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio were reunited once more to deal with the startling appearance of a Marilith down by the Vesperpool that had been killing all the hunters sent to take her down. Given their experience of having already killed one as a team, they figured they could do it again

They can’t

This Marilith is even bigger than the one they fought eight years prior and she’s attacking them ruthlessly

Ignis is about to pull the plug on the operation and tell them to retreat when suddenly the ground starts to shake and he can feel cold splashes of water on his face.

Something bursts out of the Vesperpool and Ignis can’t see her but he can picture her when Prompto suddenly cries out

“L--Leviathan?!”

The goddess is smaller compared to her appearance in Altissia but the Marilith is still dwarfed by her size. When the demon tries to flee, Leviathan grabs her by the tail and proceeds to shred her into pieces. All while the boys watch, too stunned to move.

The goddess turns her attention to the boys and they think she’s gonna attack them but she just stares at them. And they realize that she doesn’t looked like the goddess they saw across the seas.

Her body looks like it was made of water and shimmering glass, looking crystalline in appearance. Little shards of glass float in the air surrounding her and spirals of water surround the boys in a protective bubble.

The moment lasts only a moment and Leviathan roars once and then disappears, shattering and scattering the glass pieces into the air until they can’t see them anymore

They can’t really explain it but they all knows what it means

Noctis is still with them

Their King will come back

OKAY THIS GOT WAY LONGER AND WAY SADDER THAN I ANTICIPATED BUT WELP WHATCHU GONNA DO might add more idk let me guys know what you think

#i had words that needed to be shared #forgive me plx #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #headcanons #ffxv headcanons #my posts

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Nine

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

NINE

Since we’re only a few blocks from Central Park, the boys make a group decision to head there first, which gives me time to drink my coffee. Harry is still being cautious—which I totally understand—so I stand between him and Niall as we walk around, chatting and enjoying the nice weather. We stick to a paved path as the other boys quiz me, which is much more comfortable for me when they’re sober and Harry is present.

I get asked the typical questions: What am I doing in America? What am I studying? What do I plan to do when I’ve graduated? Where am I from? What’s my family like? What’s with my name? They all are properly astounded when I admit that my parents are hippies and my brother and I are named after famous musicians of the time period. 

The boys talk and joke about like any normal twenty-somethings would, which I’m more than happy to experience. If you didn’t know who they were, you’d have no idea that they make up the most popular boyband in the whole world. Aside from the security that assures no one tries to do anything crazy where the boys are concerned, there’s nothing about the four of them that indicates they’re anything other than normal young men. 

As we walk, they all excitedly recall stories about their time on tour so far, including me in their conversation. I can’t stop laughing at some of the antics they get into on stage. The stories of their falls and tumbles while performing are abundant, as they seem to all be pretty clumsy. Louis seems to be the only one that hasn’t taken multiple spills.

We stumble upon one of the many playgrounds throughout the park, and there are quite a few children running around and enjoying themselves. Their parents or babysitters sit off to the sidelines, smiling and calling to their children, who seem to all be giggling as they play with one another. All the boys linger, watching the kids play, smiling and waving when a little boy comes up to the fence and waves at them. He’s only about five, so I highly doubt he has any idea who these men are, but he’s excited to see new friends anyway, and the guys look just as excited as he does. I step back and snap a photo on my phone, capturing all their smiles and crinkled eyes. 

“You excited for that, mate?” Harry asks Louis, bumping his friend’s shoulder gently with his own. Harry nods his head in the direction of a young family with a baby—probably less than a year old—cuddling on a blanket in the grass, baby propped up on it’s dad’s chest. Why he’s pointing the family out to Louis, I have no idea. I didn’t think Louis was in a serious relationship at the moment.

“Honestly, I can’t wait,” Louis admits, a small, meaningful smile tugging at his lips. “It was a shock at first, but I’m getting more excited.”

It suddenly dawns on me what the boys are talking about. My eyebrows raise on my head and I feel my mouth drop open slightly. The summer months and how busy I’ve been has really cut into the time I spend on social media or watching trash news programs, so I’ve been a bit out of the loop on fandom news.

“You’re gonna be a dad?” I ask, my voice a mix between astonished and excited. I wanna ask who he got pregnant, but I’ll just go home and look it up later if he doesn’t reveal that information himself.

He turns to me and smiles. “Yeah. Beginning of next year.”

“That’s amazing!” I gush, genuinely happy for him since he seems so excited himself. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, love. We’re looking forward to it. Honestly thought Harry would be the first of us to have a kid.”

“That means he’d actually have to get past his commitment issues,” Liam throws in, snickering.

Harry rolls his eyes. “I do not have commitment issues. I’m a faithful guy.”

“Yeah, you just can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than a couple months. Totally not commitment issues.”

“Fuck you, Liam. I just haven’t found the right girl, yet.”

“Hey, I just realized something!” Niall interjects, turning from the fence to address us all and effectively ending the spat between Harry and Liam.

“What’s up, Ni?” Harry asks. 

“Now there’ll be two lads in the group that someone else calls ‘daddy.’”

My mouth drops open in shock, and I cover it with my hand to keep in the laughs that want to come out. Louis and Liam double over in laughter, making wheezing comments about Harry’s kink. Harry glares at his three bandmates, cheeks sucked in where he’s chewing on them. Niall is cackling like I’ve never heard before. Seeing them laughing so hard makes it impossible for me to keep mine in, so I let out a few chuckles and place a comforting hand on Harry’s back in silent support, hoping his anger or embarrassment isn’t too much. Harry just rolls his eyes and begins walking away, the four of us rushing to catch up.

When we finally emerge from the park, it’s to a small crowd of young girls, apparently here on some sort of trip, because they’re with an older woman who’s trying to herd them to their next destination. One of them looks up from their phone and looks directly at the boys. Here eyes widen and her mouth pops open comically. She silently tugs on the shirt hem of the girl next to her. Her friend looks to her and looks where her eyes are trained, a similar expression sprouting on her face when she sees all four boys of One Direction.

The boys notice the attention, so they all smile and walk up to the group, throwing out greetings. The girls are a little stunned, and only mumble responses. The mother or chaperone seems to be the only one able to form a coherent sentence, smiling and asking how the guys are. She obviously knows who they are, but she just shakes their hands and tells them how much her daughters and nieces love them. The girls around her nod in agreement. 

“Do you boys mind if we get a picture?” the mother/aunt asks.

“Not at all,” Liam responds, smiling. “Group photo, yeah?”

They nod and all get into a group, the boys weaving there way amongst the five girls. They all seem pretty giddy to be taking a picture with the boys of One Direction, and the older woman moves to take the picture.

“I can take that for you, if you wanna get in the picture with them,” I offer. I’m just standing there pretty uselessly, so I figured I may as well. She thanks me, handing me her phone, and inserts herself into the side. I count off and take a few pictures, making sure there’ll be at least one that turns out alright.

The boys all hug the girls and thank them for the support. The woman comes over to me and I hand her the phone back.

“Thank you so much,” she gushes. “I say the girls are in love with One Direction, but they’ve grown on me, too,” she admits a little bashfully. 

I laugh. “That’s alright, they’re lovable guys.” I watch over her shoulder as the boys talk with the girls, who are smiling like they’ve just won the lottery. I guess they have won the celebrity encounter lottery.

The girls say their goodbyes and walk down the street, squealing with each other about what just happened as they pass. I chuckle and imagine I would’ve acted much the same way if I had met One Direction when I was their age. 

The guys chat about how nice the girls were as we work our way toward the Guggenheim, since they’ve never been. It’s more centered towards children, but it’s definitely something you should see while you’re in New York. So, I wander alongside the four of them, taking in the attractions and pointing things out to the boys that I find interesting. Obviously, being the science nerd that I am, I find things a lot more spectacular than they do, but they play nice and humor me, humming in acknowledgement as I explain things.

After the museum, we double back and head back the way we came, taking the streets. I suggest the guys go shopping in 5th Avenue while Harry and I go the MoMA, which they agree to. We agree to meet in Times Square to figure out something for lunch in a few hours.

When Harry and I get to the museum, he looks around, sees most of the patrons are older, and grabs onto my hand. I lock our fingers together and smile up at him before letting him lead us to the first exhibit. There’s a room full of van Gogh works that Harry likes and I’m quite partial to, but I can tell he’s excited to get to the Warhol installation by the way he keeps glancing at it on the little pamphlet we got handed when we entered. 

We walk through a few modern exhibitions from local artists that are really good. I’m not much into abstract art, but Harry seems to really like it, so I let him mull over a few that he seems to get sucked in by as we walk through. After about fifteen minutes in that room, we finally get to the Andy Warhol room. All his famous photos are up in the walls, including the Campbell’s Soup Can that Harry seems to really love. I really enjoy Warhol, too, so we spend about half an hour in the exhibit. I get particularly hung up on the James Dean piece, and Harry kindly stands beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist.

“He was just so handsome,” I sigh a bit dreamily, I’ll admit. Next to Harry, James Dean is my ultimate celebrity crush. Something about film in the fifties and the enigma that was James Dean is so fascinating to me. It also doesn’t hurt that he was so attractive. 

“He really was,” he agrees with a resolute nod. “Shame he isn’t still around. There’s so much I’d want to ask him.”

We stand there for a few moments more, just admiring the artwork, before Harry presses a kiss to the side of my head and we get moving. The boys text Harry and we all agree it’s time to head out to meet up at Times Square. When we get there, we walk around a bit and decide to head to Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. The boys will be able to get a private table, so I’m not worried about running into anybody taking pictures.

The hostess nearly trips over herself getting the boys to a table, even though she works at a pretty famous restaurant in the middle of a popular spot for celebrities. We’re seated in a fairly private corner in the back, and I take a seat between Harry and Niall, Louis and Liam sitting across from us. 

After the waitress leaves once she’s taken our drink orders, I feel the buzz of my phone in my pocket. It’s a text from Trevor, and all it says is, ‘Go on Twitter. Now.’ This is a little more urgent and serious than I’ve really ever heard Trev over text, so I immediately pull up the app on my phone and wait for it to load. As my timeline is loading up, Harry’s phone goes off, buzzing on the tabletop where he set it when we sat. 

“What is it, mate?” Louis asks as Harry’s eyebrows furrow. 

“My mum,” he answers. My app finally displays Tweets and I scroll, trying to find something that would get Trevor in such a serious mood. “It’s kinda late there.” He sighs and answers anyway with a sweet, “Hi, Mumma.”

I can hear his mother responding something in a sweet voice as my eyes land on what Trevor is so worked up about. My eyes bug out of my head a bit as I see the photos plastered all over the site: Harry and the boys out in Central Park, us entering the Guggenheim, Harry and I entering the MoMA, Harry and I walking hand in hand throughout the exhibits, Harry with his arm around me in the Warhol room, Harry pressing a kiss to my head in front of the James Dean piece. My face is plain as day in all the photos, and I curse whoever’s phone has such great camera quality. The captions on the photos quickly diverge from the casual, ‘One Direction and friend out for day off in NYC,’ to ‘Harry Styles pictured getting cozy with mystery woman in NYC.’

“Mum, what are you talking about?” I hear Harry ask, the furrow on his forehead getting deeper. I have a feeling I know what she’s talking about. I tug on the sleeve of Harry’s shirt to get his attention.

“H,” I say, pushing my phone toward him. He takes it in his hand as his mother continues to talk in his ear. He scrolls through, seeing all the photos that have been posted of us. His lips are pursed and he looks less than happy.

“Mum, it’s not a big deal. You know how the tabs always make it out to be. Twitter is just as bad. She’s just a friend I met in New York. She offered to show us around a bit.” Harry hands me my phone back with a mouthed, ‘sorry.’ I just nod to let him know it’s okay. I really don’t care about photos being out there of me when my name isn’t attached to them. But I know this is less than ideal for Harry and the boys.

“You know how I am, Mum. She’s nice, promise. Her name is Micky. The boys like her. She’s here with us at lunch right now.” He pauses again as his mother says something. “She’s from Manchester. She’s in the states for school.” Another pause. “That’s not up to me. I’ll have to ask her.”

He takes the phone away from his face and gives me an apologetic smile. “Mum wants to talk to you, if that’s alright.”
 I hear the other three boys snicker, but they hide it behind their drinks that have been delivered. I throw them all a warning look. I’ve known them for about five hours and I already feel like I have to mother them. Must be exhausting for their handlers. 

“That’s fine, Harry.”

“She’s probably just gonna apologize for you getting exposed like this. Might quiz you a bit. She’s harmless,” he assures.

“I’m sure she’s lovely, Harry. She raised you, didn’t she?”

He beams at me as I take the phone from him. I take a deep breath before pressing it to my ear. “Hello.”

“Hello, darling, I’m Anne, Harry’s mum,” she greets, sounding warm and bright, just like her son. “Saw the pictures on Twitter.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I just saw those, too. I’m Micky, by the way.”

“It’s good to sort of meet you, poppet. Harry and you getting on alright?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, he’s been great. Gentleman and all.”

“He better be,” she says, her voice carrying a slight warning. “Raised him right, I hope. Anyway, I’m sorry you’ve already got your face plastered all over the internet. Not gonna be any better once gossip mags get ahold of them.”

“It’s alright. As long as they don’t get any personal information of mine, I’ll be okay. Can’t do much with just a face, right?”

“Right,” she assures, though she sounds a little hesitant about it, which is understandable.  Nothing is certain when it comes to the public eye. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your lunch. Let me know if Harry gets out of line. He needs someone keeping and eye on him out there.” I can hear the teasing in her voice, so I chuckle.

“Of course. It was nice talking to you, Anne.”

“Oh, you too, darling. Give me back to Harry, yeah?”

“Sure thing.”

I pass Harry back his phone, and he raises his eyebrows, obviously curious as to what Anne and I have been talking about. I just smile at him as he addresses his mum again.

I tune out the rest of their conversation and go back to my own phone to text Trevor back. I send him a quick check-in, telling him I saw the photos and Harry’s on the phone with his mum and that we’ll deal with it. He sends me back a thumbs up emoji and tells me he’s going out to a gay bar with some of his other friends tonight, so I shouldn’t wait up. 

Harry finally hangs up with his mum when our food comes out, and even though I didn’t get a chance to order, since I was on the phone with Anne, Harry ordered me a burger just the way I like it. I’m curious about how he knew about it, but I remember a conversation we had the previous day about how we liked out food. Apparently a useless conversation actually came in handy for once. 

“Saw the photos online,” Niall comments between bites of his burger. “What are yeh gonna do?” He looks between Harry and I for an answer.

“We’ll just lay low for the rest of the day. You guys are welcome to adventure some more, but I want to spend the rest of my day off out of the public eye,” Harry says. 

I nod. “I agree.”

“You don’t care that they’ve got your face plastered everywhere?” Liam asks.

I shrug. “Not much I can do about it now. They don’t know anything about me, so I’m not worried.”

I feel Harry’s hand clasp over my thigh under the table, giving me a comforting squeeze. I look over at him and smile, letting him know that I’m okay. It was a one time thing that will blow over when no new pictures of the two of us together emerge. Harry’s got a tour to get back to tomorrow, and I’ve got a trip back home planned before coming back to start the new semester. Our time seeing each other is nearly over, so there’s no reason to worry.

My heart does lurch a little at the thought of this being the last of my time with Harry, though. I’ve grown so fond of him in the two days that I’ve got to spend with him. I can only hope that we’ll still be able to talk once in a while, because he really is an amazing person. What little I’ve been let into his life is so astounding and he’s so wonderful, I don’t even want to begin to think about what it would feel like to be excluded from it now. 

Niall picks up the tab for lunch as an apology for taking the piss out of Harry all day, and Harry just smiles at him, tossing his arm around his shoulders as we walk out, back into the warm New York air. We part in front of the restaurant, bidding the other boys farewell as Harry and I make our way back to the condo. Security has been foregone, since the other three will need it more after their whereabouts have been posted online. Harry simply pulls his hair up into a bun, shoves on a beanie, and pushes his sunglasses over his nose as a mediocre disguise. We walk with his arm slung over my shoulder the whole way back, not once being stopped by fans on the street.

When we arrive back, the house is quiet, Trevor having already left to grab an early dinner with his mates before going clubbing. He’s left a note on the counter saying he’ll be back in by three in the morning, and if he’s not, to call the cops. I roll my eyes at his dramatics an drop my purse on the counter.

“Where’s Trev?” Harry asks, having not seen the note.

“Went out to eat and to go clubbing with some mates,” I say. “Just you and me, Styles. What do you want to do?”

A smirk pulls at his lips as he takes his beanie off his head. He takes his hair out of the tie and lets it fall in the messy curls around his shoulders. I can see his pupils dilating as he cups the back of my neck, tilting my head back slightly to make me look up at him. I can feel my nipples hardening at the intensity of his stare, and I can’t help pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. His thumb reaches up to pull the flesh away from my grip on it.

“How about we have some fun, princess? Daddy wants to make you feel good.”

TEN

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #No Control #one direction