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#literally SCREAMING when I realized what 'do something' is in like. hindi
hauntedpearl · 3 years
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i am reading the new @sobsicles fic and HOO BOY!!!
dean. dean really said, kuch kuch hota hai
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oikaw-ugh · 3 years
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hi hi! may i request an oikawa with 37 and 80? :3 thank you! 💗
"DON'T THROW SCISSORS." and “That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” + Oikawa Tōhru
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HEY HEY HEYYYYY AND I SEE, MY PAPI HUH? You have taste bb
Also, JDHDJSJSJSJSJ have I asked of your name na? Kasi I feel like hindi pa HSHSJSJSJ
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Oikawa loves Tiktok.
You can't tell me otherwise.
So when he saw this Tiktok trend where you tell your lover that they look like their ex-lover, Oikawa was...interested.
And so, the poor boy did it.
"Hey, sexy."
"Not now, Tōhru."
You grumbled as your hands kept on cutting the colored paper. You have a scrapbook project due tomorrow and as much as you love your boyfriend, you'd rather not have him around.
Where is Iwaizumi when you need him the most?
Oikawa did not falter despite your hissing remark. Instead, he settled on the chair next to yours. Humming as his hands cupped his cheek while staring at you.
"Y/N..." He called again.
"What?" You asked without lifting your vision, too engrossed with cutting the colored paper .
"Look at this..." Oikawa reached for his phone and so, this made you curious. You stopped from cutting as you wait for him.
After a few tweaking, he showed you the screen of his phone. Your brows furrowed when you realized he is at the camera and is using the front camera.
"See?" Oikawa asked with a grin.
"That's me," you blurted out.
"Yeah, but do you know them?" Oikawa asked.
"Tōhru, that's literally m-"
"That's my ex-lover," He responded.
You paused. Caught off guard with Oikawa's odd statement. Something is definitely wrong with what he said. Oikawa's already dying from chuckling as he sees your troubled expression and yet, you couldn't relate. You were still trying to understand what he said.
"But I'm your..." You tried to connect the dots slowly.
And then your eyes widened in anger as you realized he literally told you that you are his ex. Oikawa must've noticed how you finally understood what he said because he stood from his seat, running so there's a good distance between you two.
"Y/N, that was a joke, alright," he said with a nervous chuckle as he sees you slowly stand up from your seat.
"Look, Y/N, I just found it at Tiktok and-" Oikawa screamed as he ran away from you, hands covering the back of his head.
"DON'T THROW SCISSORS!" He cried.
But you didn't listen.
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Requests are open!!!
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the forgotten one- chapter 1
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A/N: hiya there! chapter 1 is here!! i finally had some time to write chapter 1. it’s... angsty, as many of you all have guessed. we’ll see how abby is holding on and ethan’s reaction to what happened. a couple of things:
in this chapter, dr. sebastian ‘seb’ chacko (abby’s brother) and their mother jazmin chacko will make their debut! sebastian skipped two grades and is now the most famous and wealthiest neurosurgeon in the country. seb is 30 years old and is experienced in neurosurgery for 6 years. he is the only best friend of ethan ramsey.
seb and abby are both half-indians and half-mexicans. their mother is mexican and their father is indian. even though their father Abraham is spiteful and malicious , they still like being an indian and jazmin took the time to learn hindi (the official language of india) and malayalam (a south indian language and the one i speak). i am NOT a mexican, but i am an indian. there will be terms a couple of indian terms, so at the bottom, i will add a glossary of words, which will be bolded and will have asterisks (*).
and remember, abby is a 22 year-old second year resident and ethan ramsey is 30 years old with 9 years of experience in medicine.
forgive me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. lmk what you think! enjoy!
pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x mc (dr. abby chacko)
warning(s): angst angst angst I’M SORRY
word count: 2535
catch up here: prologue
_______________________________________________________________
Ethan’s POV
Dr. Abigail Chacko. Abigail Chacko. Abby Chacko. Abby. Rookie.
She is all Ethan could think about while he is driving. 
It’s Friday night. Cars are honking. People are laughing. Lights are flickering. The world is spinning. Yet every fiber of his being is thinking about the one woman that managed to flip his world upside-down. The one woman who broke down all his walls. The one woman who challenges him every day and every night. The woman who he can say is his girlfriend... kind of.
Abby came into his life like a wrecking ball, pushing past every limit even he didn’t know.  When he went to the Amazon for two months, every part of him wanted to call her, ask her how she is doing, whether she received any PITAs, wanting to let her know that he still cared about her. 
Seb was mad, mad, when he found out what Ethan did to her little sister. The Chacko let him know what Abby was feeling then: emotional, depressed, crying, not even smiling. He even said that the little sister he knew and loved changed so much, he couldn’t even recognize her anymore. Hearing that made Ethan’s heart break more and more. He was the reason she was feeling emotional. He was the reason she was depressed. He was the reason she was crying day and night. He was the reason she wasn’t smiling.
But Seb was understanding. He knew about his trust issues. He knew about his family life. He knew about his childhood. And he knew that Ethan thought going to the Amazon, staying 3228 miles away from her, not calling her, was for her own benefit. Seb told him that he forgave him, because he knows that Ethan cares.
Even after coming back to the Amazon, he still had feelings for her. She occupied his mind every second of the day. What was thought to be effortless and trouble-free was challenging and strenuous. After a while, he surrendered and let himself accept her. From the dinner with the governor and the trip to the art gallery to the kiss outside of his apartment and the Mass Kenmore heist, he quit bearing his bottled up feelings for her. 
The Senator assassination attempt was the last straw. Seeing Abby, his Abby, so frail and feeble, her skin so pale, still delivered him those haunting memories from nightmares he would see. Every time he sees Abby, even after that incident, he never wanted to let her go, afraid that something terribly wrong would happen to her. 
He then realized he was the idiotic one, pushing he away a lot. He told her about his feelings for her, and Abby was more than enthusiastic to let him in. They did it in the car and in the ski resort, and he was never more joyful and ecstatic than before. Their relationship is getting more determined than ever.  
He desperately wanted to give her a ride, but couldn’t because her shift hadn’t ended yet. And something still bothers him that it was a terrible idea, but he decided to let those thoughts pass, afraid of being negative.
But love? Do I love Abigail? Ethan thinks to himself. The truth is... he doesn’t know. He never knew love was possible until he met her, the whirlwind. It may take him a little more time to answer that question.
Instantly, he hears his phone ringing, disturbing him from his musing. It’s Naveen, his mentor and old friend.
The attending answers the call. “Hello? Naveen? Is everything alright?”
In return, he hears an audible sigh. “No, son, nothing is alright. And it might stay that way for a while.”
Ethan starts becoming worrisome. Did anything happen to Naveen. Did he get an update on the hospital? Is this the end of Edenbrook? “Naveen? Are you talking about the hospital?” Ethan asks carefully. 
“Where are you now?”
“I’m driving home. Why?”
“... You might want to park the car somewhere if I need to tell you this.”
“...Why?
“Just listen to your mentor, son. Park your car.”
Ethan does as he is advised, wondering where this is going. “Naveen, you’re killing me. What is happening?”
Naveen paused for a long time. “When I tell you this, promise me you will not overrea-”
“Just spit it out, old man.”
Naveen sighs again, this time penetrated with grief and concern. “...It’s.. it’s Abby. She was stabbed-”
And that’s when Ethan cut the call, his mind racing, his heart thumping, driving recklessly back to the hospital.
________________________________________________________________
Seb’s POV
Chicago. Chi-town. Attractive city. The buildings. The lights. The horizon.
Him and Ethan were lucky to get huge penthouses overlooking their respective cities’ horizon. While Ethan doesn’t genuinely appreciate the view of Boston from his penthouse, the view of Chicago nonetheless manages to take his breath away.
Today was an exceptional day for Seb. He performed a successful decompressive craniectomy to a carpenter who was in a massive car crash. Seeing their family happy after he told them about the successful surgery made his heart leap.  A craniectomy cost a lot, so he made sure the carpenter’s family didn’t pay at all. 
That is Seb’s goal. To help everyone, even those who can’t afford treatment. That is Ethan’s goal. That is Abby’s goal. That is their goal. He’s fortunate to have Ethan as his best friend and Abby as his sister. He treasures them both.
Seb and Abby had a mierable childhood, living in Aurora, Illinois, but a different one from Ethan. The siblings both got abused by their father every single day, Abby being assaulted the most. The whips from the belt. The slaps from his hands. Being tied up and getting tortured. They still brought nightmares to Seb.  Abraham is a very wealthy and elite lawyer, “fighting for justice.” But whenever poor people trying to get justice and freedom come to his door, he knocks them out, only letting rich people enter. The comic part is that Seb, Abby, and Jazmin didn’t receive a single penny.
Jazmin would get injured a lot while trying to save them, but failed when his people seized her away, locking her up. Every morning Seb wakes Abby up for school, he would see bruises, scars, dried-up blood, and seeing them made Seb’s eye burn with tears. Since then, he promised himself he would free him, Abby, and thier mother, from that prison. Together they moved to Chicago, Illinois, but still receive threats from Abraham and his gang, saying they will come find them. 
Two weeks before was a nightmare for both Ethan and Seb. Their sister, Abby, was stuck in the Senator’s room, with gas they didn’t even know of. Seb and their mother, Jazmin, hastily packed their bags and booked their next flight to Boston, with Jazmin crying all the way, wondering if they’ll ever see their daughter again. Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore together found a cure, and he always wondered if, after that, Ethan Ramsey and Tobias Carrick ever reestablished their friendship. 
Abby told them they didn’t need to be here and that she will be fine, but they still stayed there a week. Eventually, she kicked them both out, but not without a lovely smile, saying she will see them later when she’ll come to Chicago. 
Seb was filled with joy and literally screamed at the phone when he found out that Ethan and Abby are in a relationship. He was kind of melancholy that they kept it secret, but was still filled with content that Ethan finally, finally, gave up the fight. When Jazmin found out, she made gulab jamun* with him to celebrate. They were both cheerful  Abby had finally found someone. Ultimately, Jazmin told Seb that he needs to find a woman, too, which he knew was going to happen.
Seb is staring out the window, thinking about how they all got into the positions they are now. The lights are flickering in his eyes, but he pays no attention to them, but to the sun setting on the horizon, like the glow of a burning fire. He is paying attention to the deep orange and the small tinge of purple streaked across the sky when he hears a sudden crash in the kitchen. When he looks behind, he sees a woman with wrinkles, flour all over her clothes.
Oh, Mother, Seb thinks with a grin. He tried not to laugh, but lost with a small chuckle. 
“Oh, stop making fun of your Amma*! Has Abby called you yet? She usually calls early.” Jazmin replies, worried all of a sudden.
Seb sighs, shaking his head. “No not yet. Probably stuck on some kinda case. What are you trying to make today?”
“Classic Tres Leches Cake* My family special! Wanna help me?” Her eyes light up.
“Sure. You have the three milks, right?”
“Yep! Follow me!” And with that, she prods off to the kitchen.
Seb laughs again, following her, until he hears his phone ringing. He walks over to the couch where the phone is and checks the caller ID. It’s Ethan Ramsey.
“Amma, hold on for one sec. It’s Ethan. Probably because I forgot calling him today.”
“Sure, Mone*! Take your time!”
Seb picks up the call. “Hey, Ethan! Sorry I didn’t get to call you. I performed a successful-”
“Seb.”
He hears the voice of a woman. A sound that he can recognize really well. “Harper? What are you doing with Ethan’s phone?”
Harper’s voice is tense. "He didn’t want to call you. He didn’t know how to call you.”
What? What is she saying? Did I do something wrong? “Harper, what are you talking about?”
Harper heaves a sigh. “It’s Abby. She got stabbed by one of the patients here at Edenbrook.”
Time stands still as he processes her words. Suddenly the sunset, the view from his penthouse, didn’t matter anymore. My sister. Stabbed. By some jerk. She barely survived maitotoxin and now this. Tears burn in his eyes, but he forced to blink them away. Was that why she hadn’t called today?
“...How is she now?”
“She’s now in an emergency surgery. The stab wound affected her liver, and they’re trying to fix-” At that point Seb heard too much. He cuts the call.
When he turned around, he saw Jazmin with anxious eyes. “Is everything alright?”
Seb looks at his mother in the eye, tears obscuring his vision. “Amma...”
He spills everything out.
_______________________________________________________________
Ethan’s POV
Blood rushing. Heart hammering. Eyes reddening. Fear surrounding. 
The two emotions he can feel. Fear. Anger.
He wants, no, needs, to know who the hell stabbed his Rookie.
*Hours ago*
He walks into the hospital, each step with a thunderous clap, but at any moment, his legs could give away. Every one is looking at him with concern. He breezed through the hallways, eventually finding Naveen sitting on one of the waiting chairs. Naveen sights him and abruptly gets up.
“Ethan! I was trying to call you aga-”
“How is she?”
“Dr. Chacko was stabbed in the side, which affected her liver. They are performing an emergency surgery on her right now. Dr. Tanaka said to me that she will pull through.”
Ethan let go his sigh of relief, suddenly realizing that he was holding it for too long. He slumped down onto one of the waiting chairs, Naveen sitting next to him. “Are you alright, son?”
“Who hurt her? Who hurt Abby?”
Naveen exhales. “That’s what we don’t know. They said it’s a woman with grey hair, but she escaped from the hospital after stabbing Abigail. The security guards are checking the CCTV to figure out who it might be. And as for why, we don’t know. According to the patients in the ER, all Dr. Chacko did was ask the perpetrator why she was crying and the woman stabbed her. But don’t worry, my boy, they’ll figure it out.”
Rage fills through his blood as he hears Naveen’s words. She got stabbed. All because she was trying to assist a patient? If that ‘patient’ ever comes into his sight, he will break him or her. Break them. That’s all he wants to do. 
But he knows he can’t. He merely wants Abby to be alright. The surgery. 
At that moment, Harper enters the waiting room.
“Ethan? I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to call her brother and mother.”
Goodness. He forgot about that. His one and only best friend. How is he supposed to tell him that? Most of all, her mother. She was sobbing so hard when she found out that Abby was exposed to a deadly toxin. If he tells them that Abby was stabbed, how are they supposed to handle the news?
“Harper? Can you do me a favor and call them for me?” Ethan decides. “I don’t think I have the strength in me to call them.”
“Sure, Ethan. Whatever you need.” Harper says sympathetically.
Ethan hands her his phone and tells her his passcode. All the while Ethan wants to break down and mourn. He wants to punch the wall repeatedly until his knuckles bleed.
“Ethan?” he is knocked to the present by Naveen. Ethan abruptly stands up.
“Naveen, any word on Abby?” he asks worriedly.
Naveen flashes him a brilliant beam. “The surgery was successful. She’s sleeping now.” He pauses for a moment. “Also, Seb and his mother will be arriving in a few hours.”
“That’s great.” Suddenly, he remembers. “... Did you get any word on the perpetrator?”
The chief’s smile falls into a frown. “Ah, I was... hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”
Ethan eyes his mentor and friend suspiciously.”...Why?”
Naveen takes a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear this, Ethan? Because I don’t think you’ll be ready.”
“Just tell me who it is already, damn it!” Ethan glares.
“...It’s your mother, Ethan. Louise Ramsey. She was the perpetrator.”
The attending’s heart stops. Time stands still. All the motions pause as Ethan consumes this news in. His bowels turn to ice water. Fear overtakes him. Rage fills his blood. Emotions are piling up.
My mother? My mother?
“Naveen? Please just tell me that you didn’t say what I think you said.”
“I’m sorry, son.”
At this point, Ethan has heard enough and starts punching the wall, blood spilling from his knuckles, the wall breaking. It’s my fault. My god, it’s all my fault! I started believing in this woman again, only to be hurt again. This time, almost taking the woman I lo- 
“Ethan, STOP!!” Naveen’s voice cuts his thoughts off.
“I don’t care anymore. I’m gonna break that woman when I see her again.” Ethan’s growl is more than scary. It is haunting.
As Naveen tends to Ethan’s wounds, he can’t help but wonder:
How is he ever going to encounter Abby again?
________________________________________________________________
MYSTERY MAN’s POV
What Ethan doesn’t know is that a man is standing at the corner of the hallway, with a petrifying smile.
Yeah right, Ethan. Go ahead. Try to break Louise Ramsey. I dare you.
The thing is: you can’t. It’s alright to try. But you won’t succeed. Like she told Abby...
The game has just begun.
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A/N (2): any guesses on who the mystery man is??
GLOSSARY
gulab jamun: an indian sweet which is sugary and sweet AND IS SO GOOD INDIANS CAN YOU RELATE
amma: an indian word which means ‘mother’ (i’ve only heard south indians (like me) using this word, but maybe north indians use this word??
classic tres leches cake: (had to do some research) a mexican cake made with three types of milk: evaporated milk, condensed milk, and heavy cream.
mone: means ‘son’ in south india.
tags: @missmiimiie​ @aylamwrites​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @udishaman​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @queencarb​ @choicesstan1​ @newcolonies​ @arcticrivers​ @angela8756​ @takemyopenheart​ @rookie-ramsey​ @ohchoices @ohvamsey​ @ohramsey​ @natureblooms24​ @drariellevalentine​ @openheartfanfics
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exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years
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dilwale | pjm [m.]
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pairing: jimin x fem!reader
summary: a trip across europe turns a bit more interesting when you meet park jimin, a shameless flirt with a penchant for trouble. dilwale (dil-wah-ley): [hindi] the good-hearted, the strong-hearted, lover
genre: romance, fluff, minor angst (pining), smut, dilwale dulhania le jayenge!au (this is not a thing but i made it one oop)
warnings: LOTS of pining (god so much pining) / some cursing / copious amounts of fluff / (bad) flirting / banter / allusion to being taken advantage of BUT IT’S FALSE / lots of feelings / lots of consent (bc consent is sexy) / switch!jimin / switch!reader? / the smut is pretty soft ngl / praise kink sorta? (bc come on is it a jimin fic w/o it) / creampie / excessive use of the word sweetheart / thicc!jimin / unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLSSSS) / tease!jimin / riding / aaaaand i think that’s it??
word count: ~15.6k
a/n: hello ya girl is BACK w another self-indulgent fic hehe THIS ONE’S FOR MY FELLOW DESIS AND BOLLYWOOD LOVERS!!!! ddlj is my absolute favorite movie in the entire world and i just wanted some representation dammit lol this is heavily based on the plot of that movie but obviously with some changes for my own artistic purposes. shout out to @moonlytae​ for helping me decide which member it should be and @joonies-girl-08​ for the fountain scene u guys are the best! as always, a big thank u to @jooniecult​ for ur expertise, u da best! i hope you all enjoy this, i had so much fun writing it!
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“Shit shit shit!”
You’re sprinting through the terminal, checking the directory clutched in your hands as you try to both watch where you’re going and find the damn platform you’re supposed to be on. Your friends and you have been planning this trip for weeks now and you’ve already fucked up by waking up late with barely any time to spare as you frantically waved down a taxi to the train station. You and your friends are taking the Eurail across Europe to celebrate your college graduation and you really should have been at the station about 20 minutes ago but you can blame your overexcitement—and the subsequent lack of sleep—for that.
Of course, luck was not on your side as there was an accident mere minutes from the station. London traffic at its finest. You made the split-second decision to abandon the cab, throwing an apology and a few bills over the divider before running the rest of the way. A glance at your watch says that you’re mere seconds away from missing your train and the thought pushes you to pump your legs faster, backpack slapping against your back with bruising force as you attempt to drag your small carry-on behind you.
Turning a swift corner, you catch sight of the platform you’re looking for. The train doors are still open, thank god, but you know they will close any second. You’re not sure that you’re gonna make it when you see a hand pop out of the open doors, beckoning you to grab hold. Figuring you have nothing to lose now, you take it, arm jolting you through the automatic doors just as they slide shut.
Collapsing with relief, you rest your hands on your knees as you try desperately to catch your breath. The latch on your suitcase has snapped open, spilling the contents onto the floor. You curse, frantically stuffing the carrier full again. You don’t necessarily have anything to hide but you’re not really looking to literally air out your laundry to strangers. Speaking of, you remember you never actually thanked your savior for pulling you to safety. You look up, an expression of gratitude on your lips when you catch sight of the person who helped you onto the train. Your mouth dries as you struggle to form a coherent sentence.
To say he’s gorgeous would be the understatement of the century. He’s absolutely stunning, almost fairy-like with his delicate features and mischievous eyes. It’s a direct contrast to the way he’s dressed, t-shirt tucked into sinfully-tight jeans and a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. His hair is the softest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and you’re tempted to run your fingers through it.
The sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you out of your reverie. You glance up at the man’s face to see his eyes glimmering with mirth and you know you’ve been caught checking him out. You straighten abruptly, cheeks warm with something other than exertion.
“Um,” you begin, cursing yourself internally for how lame you sound, “th-thank you. You know, for pulling me in.”
“It was no problem.” The words come out like a purr and the effect is not lost on you, heart pounding just a little harder in your chest. 
You clear your throat nervously and look away from his piercing gaze. You realize you’re both standing in the gangway connection. The handsome stranger seems to realize this at the same time because he glances over to the door and drops his own bag to try and pry it open. He struggles for a moment before knocking loudly on the door.
“Anyone over there?” He tugs uselessly on the door one more time before stepping away, hand running through his pink strands in frustration. He glances over to you looking a little sheepish. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a little.”
“Ah.” You sigh, not sure what else to say so you remain silent. You go to check your phone but remember that it had died midway through your taxi ride. Flopping down onto the ground, you figure you’re gonna be here a while so you pull out the book you brought to keep yourself entertained and flip to where you left off.
Just as you’re getting back into the story, you see the stranger settle down next to you a little closer than you would have liked. While you can admit the man is attractive, you’re still strangers. You have no idea who this guy is; he could be a mugger for all you know! Okay, that was probably not very likely but you can never be too careful.
“So,” he begins, leaning his head back to peer at you, “have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”
You frown. Of course you haven’t met him before, you’re sure you would have remembered such a stunning man. Not that you’d admit that out loud. “Uh…no?” It comes out a bit harsher than you intend but he recovers well.
“Ah, I see. My mistake.” He flashes you a sweet smile and you return it, albeit a little uncomfortably. You try to return to your book but he interrupts you yet again. “It’s just that, your eyes…”
“What?” you practically snap. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”
“Nothing,” he simpers, eyes boring into yours. “They just remind me of someone.”
“Oh? Who?” The beginnings of a sneer are curling at the corners of your mouth but you manage to bite it back. You cannot, however, keep the impatience from leaking into your tone.
“My mother,” he answers back, gaze turning fond if not a little dreamy. “Her eyes are just like yours, soft and warm and—”
“Listen, that’s very sweet and all but I’m just trying to get back with my friends so if you could, just please leave me alone?” You’re trying really hard not to get tight with this guy but you know his type—pretty boys with an agenda. This trip is for you and your girls and you’re not about to let some schmuck ruin it for you.
He raises his arms in a gesture of defeat. “Alright, alright. I was just trying to break the ice. No need to worry.” Settling back against the wall, he tips his head back to close his eyes and you relax slightly.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift uncomfortably but choose to ignore him in favor of your book. 
“Excuse me, are these…?” You feel a nudge against your arm and you frown, directing your attention back to him.
Dangling from his fingers is a thong. Your thong, to be exact. 
A gasp of mortification tears itself from your throat as you rip the offending garment from his grasp, rushing to shove it back into your backpack. The man has the nerve to laugh at your embarrassment.
“I thought so,” he chuckles, a dangerous smirk curving at the corners of his plump lips. Even his mouth is a pretty pink. You catch yourself staring again and quickly curse yourself, pushing yourself further against the wall of the gangway and away from him.
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a black lace kind of girl.”
You whip around to fix him with your most annoyed glare. The fuck was wrong with this guy? “Excuse me?”
He’s still wearing that insufferable smirk and you have to fight the urge to slap it off his stupid face. “It’s just…you seem so pure. Sure that ain’t a little out of your league, sweetheart?” 
Mouth agape, you can’t even formulate a proper response to that. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business?”
You congratulate yourself a little when you see his eyes widen fractionally, clearly taken aback by your response. Serves him right, creepy bastard. He drops the subject and you raise your book again to resume reading, albeit with a bit more force than necessary. You can hardly focus on the words, too caught up on the last few minutes to read properly. 
You’re halfway through a mental smackdown of Cotton Candy Headass when you feel something making its way into your lap. Startled, you look down only to see the little gremlin squirming his way into your space and under your book. You shoot him an incredulous look, unsure whether to laugh at the sheer gall or scream in his face. 
“Don’t stop on my account.” He smiles disarmingly bright and you would be entranced if you weren’t so annoyed. “I was just curious to see how you could read a book upside down. Very interesting style!”
You glance at the way you’re holding your book, face warming at the realization that you were in fact holding it upside down. Fuck.
“Alright, jackass,” you begin, pushing against his shoulders in an effort to dislodge him from your lap, “enough is enough—”
Just then, the cabin door slides open revealing one of your friends. You and Cotton Candy Creep turn your heads to your friend at the same time. Your friend raises a brow at you in a silent question.
“___? What are you doing here?” You sigh, opening your mouth to answer her, but a low voice beats you to it. 
“Why hello there, my dear. Did I keep you waiting?” Picking yourself up from the ground, you roll your eyes as you gather your bags. First you, now your friend? This guy doesn’t give up.
“I was scared you had missed the train.” Your friend, Sheena, says the words to you but is looking at your strange companion, eying him up like she wants to devour him. 
“Oh, not to worry, darling, I caught it just in time.” He sidles up next to Sheena, leaning against the wall with one arm.
“Good, I was…worried.” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger and you have to remind yourself that you love your friend more than you want to throttle her at this moment.
You sling your backpack across your shoulders before picking up your suitcase. If you had gotten the chance to eat breakfast this morning, you’re sure you would have thrown it up already.
“By the way, what’s your name?” He holds a hand out like a gentleman, as if he weren’t just commenting on your lingerie not ten minutes ago.
“Sheena…” 
“Park Jimin, at your service” he returns, grasping Sheena’s proffered hand to kiss the back of it, and you decide you’ve finally had enough.
“Oh, Sheena~” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers in a mock wave. “I’m over here. Shall we go?”
She has the decency to look sheepish as she turns to you, reaching out for  your arm so she can pull you to her side.
“Allow me.” Jimin, the little imp, slides the door open with a flourish, sending a last wink at your friend. You usher your friend through before she can get another word in edgewise. As you step through the door, you make sure to knock his knees as hard as you can with your suitcase, taking pleasure in the hiss of pain that escapes him.
As the door shuts behind you, you can’t help but mutter, “I hate men.”
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“___, come on! Are you ready?”
You have just finished placing the finishing touches on your makeup when Sheena calls you from the bedroom. Sending one last appraising look, you deem yourself ready and make your way out of the bathroom.
“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle, throwing your small purse over your shoulder. “Let’s go!”
Grabbing your other friends, your small group makes its way down to the lobby. The hotel is having a party sponsored by Eurail in the middle of Paris and you can’t help but feel a little excited. You’re having a great time so far, surrounded by your girls, in the city of love no less, and you feel giddy at the thought of what’s to come.
You follow the directions on the invitation and find yourselves in a ballroom located in the back of the hotel. The doors open and the sight that greets you is—
Underwhelming.
The room is dotted with tables and waiters traverse the space, glasses full of bubbling liquid balanced skillfully on trays. It’s almost unnervingly silent as a drab opera singer sings on what you think is actually a dance floor that has been repurposed into a stage. You exchange wary glances with Sheena and the other girls before making your way through the cluster of tables and settling on one closest to the bar and furthest from that damned opera singer.
“Oh god, this party is so boring,” Sheena whines beside you, picking up a menu and flicking through it.
“I told you it would be,” one of your other friends, Jennie, pipes up.
“Yeah well, you also said that the train would get into an accident, the hotel would burn down, and we’d be poisoned by the food so forgive us if we were inclined to ignore your premonitions.” You roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your foot to let her know you were joking,
“Hey, hey, ___. Look.” Sheena shakes you as you scan the appetizers, prompting you to look up to where she’s pointing at the entrance. “It’s your loverboy. And he brought friends.”
“Oh crap,” you whine, whipping back around and sinking lower in your seat. You hope he hasn't seen you.
“‘Loverboy’?” Jennie asks with a frown.
“I found him curled up in ___’s lap when I went looking for her.” Sheena smirks at you while you try to melt into the floor.
“Shut up, Sheena, you know it wasn’t like that. Especially considering the fact that the two of you started flirting right in front of me.”
“Oh. come on. Lighten up, it was only a bit of harmless fun. I wouldn’t dream of taking your man.”
You splutter. “He’s not my anything—”
“Hey! We should invite them over!” Jennie smiles obliviously. You love the girl to death but sometimes she can be a bit…airheaded.
“That is a great idea, Jen,” Sheena shoots you a devious look and before you can stop her, she’s already flagging the group over. You wish the earth would open and swallow you up—better yet, take both you and Sheena so you can have the pleasure of throttling her yourself.
The boys make their way over to you before you can think of an escape plan and you stare resolutely at your menu in an effort to block them out.
“Hi, Sheena.” His voice is just as soft and seductive as you remembered and it sends a familiar heat flashing across your skin but you quickly stifle it. He looks good, you notice begrudgingly. He’s wearing black slacks and a black blazer with a white t-shirt to give a casual vibe. He’s topped off the look with pink tinted glasses that make him look like some celebrity. You think it would be pretentious if it were anyone else but unfortunately, he makes it work. The slacks hug his legs almost sinfully tight, highlighting the strong muscles of his thighs and the rounded curve of his— 
Snap out of it! You abruptly stop your scrutiny there, shoving your face back into your menu. You will not let him affect you like he did in the train. You won’t. Still, you can’t help sneaking a glance over to him only to find he’s already staring at you. “Hello, sweetheart.” He shoots you a devastating smile along with a wink and you sneer, abruptly turning away.
“Hey, Jimin.” Sheena simpers and she’s laying it on a little thick, you think, but you know it’s all for show. “Who’re your friends?”
“Ah, this is Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jeongguk.” Jimin points first to a young man with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and then to a slightly younger man whose eyes and nose crinkle cutely as he waves in greeting. The three of them are stunning and you’re left wondering how all the attractive people seem to find each other.
Birds of a feather, you suppose.
The boys make themselves comfortable at your table and you try your best not to grimace. Jimin may be an asshole but the other two have done nothing wrong. You actually quite like them. You’re enjoying listening to a story about the time they got kicked out of a karaoke bar when you overhear parts of another conversation happening across the table.
“You know, Sheena, I think I’ve seen you before.” Jimin is leaning close to your friend as if they are sharing some sordid secret. An unknown emotion churns in your stomach.
“Oh, really? What makes you say that?” 
“Your eyes. They remind me of someone.” You stiffen. Now, there’s a familiar line. The nerve of this bastard, reusing pick up lines? How much more pathetic can you get? You clear your throat, trying to appear interested in your conversation with Jeongguk and Hoseok while also keeping tabs on your friend.
“Oh? Whose?”
Jimin has a coy smile curving the corners of his plump lips. “My mother.”
Sheena coos at his words and you can’t bear to hear any more. You stand up abruptly, glasses clinking on the table with the force of your exit. 
“I’m going to get a drink,” you murmur to no one in particular and stalk over to the bar. You’re craving the burn of a shot or even the dim haze of wine but you abandon those notions in favor of a water, flagging down the bartender. You chug it a little desperately, relishing in the cooling effect as the water tempers the annoyance you feel for your unwelcome companion. Taking a deep breath, you push away from the bar and make your way back to the table where you find Jeongguk and Hoseok complaining about the music choice.
“I’m just saying, this party could be bumpin’ if the music wasn’t shit.” Hoseok glances over at the poor woman singing her heart out on the dance floor. 
Jeongguk sits up suddenly, a devious smile lighting up his face. “Let me see what I can do. Come with me.” He grasps Hoseok’s arm as he gets up, hoisting the man out of his seat.
“Where’re you going?” you ask Hoseok but he looks just as lost as you do. The younger man tugs at his arm, dragging him off to the other side of the room.
“Beats me.” Hoseok shrugs and he disappears with Jeongguk in the sea of waiters and tables.
You’re left a little dumbfounded as the pair leaves you but you shrug it off. You try to enjoy the evening before remembering that Jimin is currently flirting his way into your friend’s pants and your mood sours once again. Just as you’re in the middle of planning your escape, the lights dim and a voice comes on the loudspeaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” you recognize the voice as Hoseok’s and you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “We are now going to progress to some beats that are a bit more…exciting. Ready, set, and begin!”
A song with a heavy bass and a pleasing trap beat bleeds from the speakers and the room seems to buzz with life all at once. A few squeals and cheers fill the air as people rush to the dance floor at the center and begin dancing wildly. You laugh, shocked that the boys managed to liven up this party in a matter of minutes.
They walk back over to your table with self-satisfied smirks on their faces. You smile widely at them as they approach. “That was awesome! How did you manage that?”
“I just hacked into the speaker system and synced up my music playlist.” Jeongguk looks rather bashful but still proud as he flashes you a sweet smile.
“Shall we dance, then?” Hoseok bows with a flourish and you giggle fondly, nodding excitedly. You glance over your shoulder and spot Sheena still with Jimin except now he has his hand out in a question and she takes it before following the pink-haired man to the dance floor. 
You don’t feel so good anymore but you’re determined not to let some prick ruin your night. So, you turn back to the boys resolutely and lead them into the throng of writhing bodies.
Jeongguk and Hoseok, you quickly learn, are incredible dancers. The power with which the two of them move is truly a sight to behold and you’re having a hard time keeping up. You manage to have a good time, though; when Jeongguk sees you struggling, he strikes a ridiculous pose and makes up the silliest moves, making you laugh merrily. 
Unfortunately, you can’t keep your gaze from flitting over to Jimin and Sheena every so often. They seem to be getting awfully close, you think as Jimin pulls your friend close to him and the sight is almost too much. Why, you’re not sure and you don’t want to let yourself think about it. You thought you were being discreet about it but Hoseok seems to notice your shift in demeanor.
“You’ve been moping for the past few minutes now.” He nods at something over your shoulder and you know exactly what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you go ask him to dance?”
Your eyes flicker back to the happy couple of their own volition and you spot Sheena leaning up to whisper something in Jimin’s ear. You wish you were anywhere but here.
“What? No, I— That’s not…no,” you finish lamely, knowing full well that was not the least bit convincing but not finding the will to care. Hoseok looks unimpressed and you’re about to reassure him when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.
“May I cut in?” The velvety smooth voice caresses your skin and god you wish he’d stop appearing everywhere. You’re almost rendered speechless as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, soft and playful with an undercurrent of mischief that both intrigues and irritates you. You glance at Jeongguk and Hoseok but they merely share a look, smirking at each other as they not-so-subtly back away from the two of you. Left with no other option, you gently sway to the beat of the song, allowing yourself to fall in rhythm with Jimin.
It’s awkwardly silent for the first few moments before Jimin finally pipes up.
“Why do you hate me so much?” He steps minutely closer to you and all you can see is Sheena pressed up against him as she whispers in his ear. An inexplicable anger flashes through you.
“Why do you make it so easy to hate you?” you fire back.
Jimin raises a brow at your tone but otherwise shows no outward reaction to your hostility. It only serves to irritate you further.
Just to make matters worse, he starts laughing. It’s a soft, tinkling sound and you hate how much you like it. “I think I know why.”
“You don’t know shit,” you spit, fists clenching at your sides. You have half a mind to smack him right there on the dance floor but you know it would only cause a scene. That’s the last thing you need on this night from hell.
Suddenly, he grasps your waist and spins you around so that your back is pressed to his front. You try to squirm away but he’s surprisingly strong, keeping you locked in place with one hand around your waist and the other caressing up the length of your body. You tremble as he begins to sway.
“I think you like me.” The words are nothing but a whisper, soft breaths fanning out across your skin and creating goosebumps in their wake. The music has slowed significantly and you can feel the bass reverberating through your chest.
“L-Like hell I do!” You curse internally at the way your voice stutters but he merely laughs, sending shivers up and down your spine.
“Then why can I feel you shaking?” Jimin guides your hips with his, coaxing your body to move according to his whim. You feel him along every dip and curve to the point you’re not even sure where he ends and you begin. It’s sensual and dizzying and ridiculously sexy.
“Because I can’t stand the feeling of your hands on me.” You’re desperate to hold onto some shred of your dignity, no matter how slim,  but then you feel the tip of his nose glide up the length of your neck and your brain short-circuits. You only just manage to reign in the urge to bare yourself to him, to submit, but you’ll be damned if you let him have any more control over you.
“Then why haven’t you pulled away yet, hmm?” You swear you feel his lips brush your shoulder and your eyes slip closed of their own accord. “I’m not even holding you anymore.”
It takes a second for his words to register but when they do, it’s as if he’s dumped a bucket of cold water over you. Your eyes snap open as you realize his arm is no longer holding you in place but merely draped across your middle in a loose embrace. You could pull yourself free if you just moved slightly forward. 
You’re not even sure when that happened and you know he knows this. This is just a game to him and you? You’re just another plaything at his disposal. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you practically rip yourself away from Jimin as if you’ve been burned.
“I-I have to go.”
“Wait—” Jimin starts to say but you don’t wait around long enough to hear him out. You’ve seen and heard enough for one night,
Grabbing your purse, you all but run out of the ballroom, barely remembering to shoot Sheena a text that you were heading back to the room early. Tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, especially not over the likes of Park Jimin. He’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man looking for a quick lay. He’s not worth it, you desperately try to remind yourself.
But somehow, as you wait for the elevator, as you feel the ghost of his touch on your waist and the soft caress of his breath on your skin, your heart refuses to believe that as the truth.
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It’s been 3 days since what you’ve deemed as The Incident, and you’re happy to report that you have yet to see Park Jimin.
Of course, you’ve seen him—you’re on a tour together after all—but you’ve made it a point to actively ignore him any chance you get. Sometimes you’ll run into Hobi (as he’s reminded you numerous times to call him) or Jeongguk and talk to them for a while but you don’t linger too long, for fear he’ll just pop up out of nowhere. You feel bad because you genuinely like the other boys but every time you catch sight of Jimin’s pink cotton candy head, your heart beats a little faster and your skin runs a little warmer and you just can’t handle that headache right now.
The Eurail train has stopped in a quaint little town on the way to Zürich and you decide to take the opportunity to stretch your legs. Besides, the sooner you get off the train, the less likely you’ll have an encounter with the object of your (des)ire.
Stepping down gently, glance around the station and spot a little road that leads further into the town. You don’t really have a destination in mind, figuring you’ll just walk for a little and then make your way back. You walk until you spot a quaint little souvenir shop and decide to check it out.
A familiar head of pink by the cashier makes you pause in the doorway and you nearly turn around to walk right out but he sees you and calls you over.
“___! Come over here, I need your help.”
You shift from foot to foot. You could just ignore him and continue on your way but the guilt that would follow would be unbearable. So you swallow your pride and make your way over to him, silent and cautious.
As you approach, you see him pouring over a small spread of trinkets. They’re little handmade pieces of jewelry—rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. They’re quite cute and would normally have you grinning and cooing but your present company puts a bit of a damper on that for you.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he begins nonchalantly. He doesn’t look up as you approach and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed or grateful.
You clear your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been…busy.”
Jimin looks at you then, a single brow raised that tells you he doesn’t believe you, which is fair. You don’t even believe you. “We’re on a tour of Europe together. What could you possibly be doing?”
You don’t really have an answer for that so you remain silent.
“Okay, nevermind that,” his voice brightens up significantly and you’re marginally grateful for the fact that he’s changing the subject. “Help me pick out a souvenir to take back home!”
A smile plays around the corner of your lips and you quickly bite it back. You will not be endeared by him. Your eyes catch on a small bracelet and you can’t help but fall in love instantly. It’s a delicate gold chain threaded with beautiful black pearls, a small pink flower resting on the end near the clasp. Your lips part as you stare at it for a little too long and you quickly snap yourself out of it to look back at Jimin. He’s already staring at you with a soft look in his eyes. The expression makes your heart clench so you look away, clearing your throat again.
“I-I don’t know,” you dismiss, glancing out the window where you can just barely make out the train. “Just pick something, we’ve gotta get back to the train soon.”
“Alright, alright. Calm down, sweetheart. Gimme two minutes.”
You check your phone impatiently, noting the time. The conductor had said you were stopping for about half an hour before you would be on your way again. You don’t remember the exact time you stopped but you know it’s getting close to the time you should be leaving.
“Sweetheart, can you come here a second? I always forget which coins are which.” Jimin beckons you over, a collection of francs in his palm and you send another despairing glance at the train.
“Jimin, I have no clue but come on, we’ve gotta go!” 
You decide to stop waiting on his slow ass and run out of the shop. You make it to the platform just in time to see the train pulling away. Jimin takes a bit longer than you, practically having to sprint after you, but he stops abruptly as he notices the retreating train. 
He starts to laugh in disbelief and you can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. All your luggage and most of your money is on that train. And now you’re stranded out here, with Park Jimin no less. You try to hold back but you feel a few tears slip down your cheeks as the train disappears from view.
Jimin seems to notice your distress because he begins to panic a little himself. “S-Sweetheart, come on. It’s okay! Look, at least you’re not alone. I’m here with you!”
That only makes you cry harder, a small sob escaping your lips as you smother your face between your hands. Jimin falls silent, unsure how to handle your emotional display but doesn’t leave your side. It’s both comforting and confusing.
It takes a few minutes but you eventually regain your composure, adamant in avoiding Jimin’s probing gaze. You can’t believe you cried in front of him like a child. You’re embarrassed and annoyed and tired but you channel that energy into fixing yourself up to look like a functioning human being and marching over to the ticket booth and finding out the next train to Zürich. Just your luck, the next train isn’t until tomorrow morning. You quickly text your friends what happened, letting them know you’re safe and that you’ll meet them in Zürich tomorrow afternoon. You sigh, wondering how what should have been an exciting trip turned into such a mess.
“So what’s the damage?” Jimin asks. Oh, right. That’s how. You fight not to roll your eyes as you relay the information. “Oh, that’s no problem! We can just—”
“Oh no,” you cut him off abruptly, seething with annoyance. He thinks you want to spend any length of time with him after he made you both miss your train? Not a chance. “We are not  doing anything, I am going to find my own way to Zürich. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place. I want nothing to do with you.”
Jimin looks taken aback but then his expression hardens. “Listen here, sweetheart, I know you’re pissed but you’re being a bit of a bitch. I’m sorry I made us miss the train but splitting up is the literal worst thing we could do right now. This is not to patronize you but you are a woman alone in a foreign country, I’m not about to abandon you just because you don’t like me. Now let’s just play nice and try to find a place to stay for the night so we can catch the first train out of here and be on our merry way. Deal?”
You blink, surprised by the force of his outburst. Fuck. He’s right. You know he’s right and the wave of shame that overtakes you is well-deserved. You duck your head, thoroughly chastised, and nod at him, following his lead as he turns around and begins walking back in the direction of the town. Glancing at him timidly, you murmur a soft apology.
He turns his head in your direction but doesn’t look at you. “What was that?”
You huff, squaring your shoulders. “I’m sorry, okay? You were right.”
Jimin looks at you then, a blinding smile on his face and you feel your body relax a little. At least he’s not mad at you. 
“No problem, sweetheart. Things like this happen. We just gotta make the most of it.” He falls in step with you so that you’re no longer trailing slightly behind and the gesture warms your heart just a bit.
“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?” You thought it was just a cheap way to endear himself to you, especially back when he didn’t know your name but the way he says it doesn’t feel gross. It feels almost…nice.
“Oh, uh,” Jimin rubs the back of his neck a little shyly, the beginnings of a blush staining his cheeks, and you can’t help the swell of affection. “Sorry. It just kinda…stuck?”  
“No, it’s…it’s fine.” You look away, suddenly finding the scuffed material of your shoe very interesting.
Clearing his throat, Jimin forces out a gruff, “Good,” and the two of you fall into a companionable silence. 
Eventually, you stumble across a small inn a little ways into town, about a 25 minute walk from the train station. Jimin ducks inside, asserting that he’ll handle the cost of the room to make amends. You try not to smile after him as he leaves.
Key in hand, Jimin leads you to a small but cozy room on the third floor. It’s very quaint, a single bed dominating the room with an old settee off by the window. There’s even a small fireplace and a tea set. You slip your purse off your shoulder as you settle near the mantle.
“Wow, what a cute room!” Sitting on the couch, you marvel at its soft texture. “Where’s yours?”
“Yeah, about that…” Jimin hasn’t really moved from his spot by the door, rubbing at his neck again in what you recognize as a nervous tick. “This was the only room they had so, uh, we gotta share?”
“What?” You blink, hoping that he’s joking. 
“I-I know that it sounds weird but there really was no other option. I’ve already decided to sleep on the couch and you can—”
“Listen, I am fine with sticking together and getting back to our friends but this is just— I can’t…I can’t share a room with you.” You stand up abruptly but you don’t have any idea what to do with yourself.
“Why not?” Jimin seems confused and honestly, you are too. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, especially since you’ve kinda-sorta made up but this is little more than you can handle.
Glancing at him, you shake your head, words failing you. How can you explain that you just feel too much for him to be comfortable around him? How do you tell him that you’re having second thoughts about him being a total pain in the ass or about the stutter in your heart whenever he so much as glances at you? You can’t so you just send him a helpless look before storming out of the room, a flush on your cheeks and a heaviness in the pit of your stomach.
You don’t know where you’re going but anywhere is better than in there with the man that forces you to confront your feelings. Shaking your head, you figure you’ll explore the town a little. You could use the fresh air.
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Jimin doesn’t know what else to do.
He’s willing to admit he fucked up with you at that party. He never should have come on that strong but you had looked so beautiful and, even though they were his friends, seeing you with Hobi and Jeongguk had ignited such a strong feeling of jealousy that he was helpless to do anything but whisk you away in his arms. He had spent that night tossing and turning in his bed. Now that he knew what you felt like in his arms, his mind refused to think of anything else.
But then you had run away and Jimin knew that he had crossed a line. He just wanted to tease you, maybe fluster you a bit, but never had he wanted to scare you off. You intrigued him. You were funny and sweet—to your friends at least—and it was quite fun to fluster you with his charms. He knew it was simply a physiological reaction, having nothing to do with any actual attraction to him as a person, but he was willing to take what he could get from you.
That, as it turns out, is absolutely nothing.  He thought he was making progress with you. First and foremost, he realized at some point, he wants to be your friend. He enjoys your company and likes your attitude. It doesn’t hurt that he finds you absolutely stunning but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. Right now, his main focus is getting you to like him and every time he thinks he’s close, something happens and you’re back to despising him. One step forward, two steps back.
Speaking of you, it’s been a few hours since you’d stormed out of the room in a flustered mess. Jimin didn’t understand why sharing a room with him was such a big deal but he respects you enough to recognize that your feelings are your feelings and he should just accept them. He’s beginning to grow worried, though, as the sun has just set on the horizon. It’ll be dark soon and he doesn’t even want to think about what could happen to you, a beautiful young woman, alone on the streets of an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night. 
He checks his phone and curses when he realizes that he still doesn’t have your phone number. It’s decided then; he has to go looking for you. Jimin leaps off the bed, grabbing his wallet from his bag and stuffing the room key inside, before practically sprinting out of the inn. 
Jimin’s not sure how long he searches for you but the light has long-since faded from the sky and the street lights have come on. He’s pretty sure he’s stopped in every shop and establishment along the length of the main road but he has yet to see any sign of you. He wants to keep looking but his stomach gives a ravenous growl and he forces himself to stop and take a break. You’re out here somewhere; he can just stop quickly and then continue his search once he’s gotten something into his stomach.
Ducking into a random bar, Jimin runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s about to head to the bar at the back of the place when he spots you sitting on one of the stools, hunched over a drink. Jimin’s not religious but he thanks every god above that you’re alright. All thoughts of food vanish as relief floods his body, nearly knocking him over with the force of it.
“Hey, sweetheart, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You can’t just run off  like that—”
“Jiminie~!” you cry with a dopey grin on your face as you swivel around to look at him. And, you’re drunk. Figures. 
“Jiminie, I saw the cutest puppy when I was outside and I wanted to take a picture but my phone died and so I couldn’t and I was so sad—”
You start rambling about how much you love puppies and Jimin just rolls his eyes fondly as he pays the tab and decides to get you home, hunger long-forgotten. Eventually he gets you out of the bar and the both of you start walking back to the inn albeit a bit slowly.
You suddenly speak up out of nowhere. “You know, I don’t like you.” 
“Yeah, I know.” Jimin can’t help the bitterness that creeps into his tone but he keeps his expression neutral.
“It’s because of your face.” 
“What about my face?” 
“It’s too pretty. Like what the fuck?? It’s not fair. You’re pretty and handsome and sexy as fuck and it’s just not fair.”
Jimin smiles to himself but tries to sound teasing. “You think I’m sexy?”
“Duh, I may hate you but I’m not blind.” A beat. “Okay maybe I don’t hate you. I hate that you make me feel things.”
“Things?” 
“Yeah, things.” 
“What kind of things?” 
“Bad things. My heart hurts when you talk to me but also when you talk to other girls? But I can’t like you. You’re a flirt. And I don’t like flirts. But I like you.” You seem to realize what you just said because you gasp dramatically. “WAIT, NO I DON'T! Well… kinda. Woah, I’m dizzy.”
You stumble and Jimin catches you, amusement swimming in his eyes as he gazes fondly while you struggle to keep yourself upright. As the pair of you walk towards the inn, you catch sight of a fountain in the middle of the town square and bolt upright, running over to it.
It’s quite pretty, even Jimin will admit. It’s relatively small, carved out of a sand-colored stone in a pretty, almost chalice-like design. Water trickles from a spout on the top where it makes its way down to the pool. Spouts surrounding the round rim all spray a thin stream of water toward the center and little lights within the pool illuminate the coin-covered bottom.
“I’ve always wanted to jump into a fountain!” you say as you stop in front of the structure to admire it.
“Why?!” 
“I don’t know, I saw it in a movie once and it looked fun!” 
Jimin glances over to you nervously and tries to grab your arm surreptitiously. “Well, maybe we should do that another time. You know, when you’re not—” 
SPLASH! 
“—drunk,” he finishes with a sigh.
You giggle in delight as you splash around, fully clothed, in the shallow fountain and Jimin can’t help the swell of affection as he watches you smile brightly. He’s never seen you smile like that before and he wishes he could be the cause of it.
You catch sight of the coins resting on the bottom of the fountain and you gasp dramatically, begging Jimin for a franc to toss in. Jimin laughs but acquiesces, lending you a hand as you struggle to get out of the fountain, dripping water all over the pavement. He watches you fondly as you clutch the coin with both hands up to your face and whisper into it like a prayer, swaying slightly because you are still a little drunk after all, and all he can think is he could watch you forever.
You abruptly open your eyes and throw the coin in, smiling softly as you wave at your coin. God, you’re precious.
“So… What’d you wish for?” 
You look scandalized. “I can’t tell you!” 
“Why not?” 
“Then it won’t come true,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Jimin wonders if it’s possible to die of smiling too much. 
“Ah, I see.”
You start shivering. “I’m cold.”
“That’s what happens when you jump into a fountain in the middle of the night, sweetheart” Jimin shrugs off his jacket and wraps you up in it. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. You snuggle into the fabric, shivering again.
“I like when you call me that. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore when you say it.” 
Something tightens in Jimin’s heart and he’s overwhelmed with it, petting your hair softly. “Then I’ll say it for the rest of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers the words like they’re something sacred. He thinks they are.
Going slack in his hold, you lean heavily against him and your eyelashes flutter prettily as you struggle to stay awake.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Jimin says and he can’t stop the tender way his voice caresses the nickname or the reverence in his touch as he slips an arm around your waist. 
“Let’s go home.”
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You’ve only been awake for a matter of seconds and you already want to die.
You have a splitting headache and your mouth feels like sandpaper. Well yeah that’s what happens when you drink too much, genius. You don’t even remember what happened after your visit to the bar but you figure it was nothing good.
You glance down at your clothes and find an unfamiliar t-shirt and a pair of shorts on your body. There’s clothes strewn across the room, on the bed, on the floor and your heart crawls into your throat. Now you’re concerned. What the hell happened?
Just then Jimin comes in with breakfast, some water, and, bless his soul, ibuprofen.
“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” his voice sounds soft, softer than you’ve ever heard and you’re confused but also swooning? It’s a strange combination.
“Uh yeah, I-I guess I did. What happened last night?” You wince as you move to sit up. Damn, what did you do to make you so sore?
“Last night did quite a number on you, I’ll tell you that.” He laughs as he sets down the tray on the side table, perching himself on the edge of the bed as he looks at you. “How much did you have to drink exactly?” 
“Uh, I kinda lost count after my fifth or sixth vodka soda.” You scratch your head in embarrassment.
“Jesus Christ, how are you alive?” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. Leave it to you, he figures. 
He hands you some water, which you chug gratefully, and take care to swallow the pills. He watches you, irises warm and pretty and you don’t like the way your heart flutters against your ribcage.
“You were incorrigible last night,” Jimin chuckles and you stiffen. What the fuck does that mean? “You kept pulling me in every direction, hanging off me at any given chance.” His voice is light and teasing and far too casual for what he’s suggesting.
Suddenly it clicks. The clothes strewn everywhere, the soreness, the strange tenderness in Jimin’s voice. 
Holy shit. Holy fuck. 
You slept with him. 
You fucking slept with him.
Jimin is still talking but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.
“We slept together,” you whisper in disbelief and Jimin immediately stops rambling about whatever the fuck and you’re still reeling with the realization that you fucking slept with him.
“What?” He seems confused but you can’t think about his emotions when yours are swirling around violently in your head, increasing the pounding against your skull and making you want to throw up.
“You fucking slept with me while I was drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jimin’s eyes widen so much that it would be almost comical if you weren’t absolutely devastated. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” 
But you’re not listening anymore. You can’t, not with the way the blood is rushing too loudly in your ears, or the way your heart has crawled so far up your throat you think you could choke. 
Logically, you know this is not the worst thing in the world, that it may be a bit of an overreaction, but you can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that permeates your body when you think about what a vulnerable position you were in last night. Stupid, you think. How could you be so stupid? A desperate sob meets your ears and you’re all too aware that the gasping breaths are coming from you.
You can hear Jimin trying to reason with you but your body reacts violently, slapping his hands away every time he tries to reach for you. You cry, arms wrapping around your body in an attempt to hold yourself together but you can’t stop the tremors wracking your frame.
“___! Sweetheart, please, will you just—!” 
“No! Get away from me!”
You try to push him, shove him, hit him, but it’s futile and you only cry harder. Finally, Jimin decides enough is enough.
“Listen to me, ___. Listen to me.” Jimin’s hands come up to cradle your head, gentle but firm. His voice leaves no room for argument and you let out a pathetic whimper but look into his eyes nonetheless.
“I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m the scum of the earth, that I'm a flirt and a tease, and maybe I am those things but I am not a monster. Do you hear me? I may push boundaries and irritate you but I would never, ever dream of crossing that line without your explicit and enthusiastic consent.” 
His eyes blaze into yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He looks serious and stern, but most of all he looks hurt. You did that. Before you can go any further with your self-hatred, he continues. “You were drunk and wet and I needed to get you into a change of clothes. I am telling you the truth when I say nothing happened last night. Believe me, please?”
You stare into his eyes for an immeasurable amount of time, back and forth between his irises and you feel all the tension within you release, as if his touch is a balm you never knew you needed to an ache you never knew you had.
Another whimper escapes you and you throw yourself into Jimin’s arms then, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again and he just embraces you, shushing you as he strokes your hair oh so gently.
You stay like that for a long time, simply relishing in the warmth of his body, before you realize what you’re doing. Jimin seems to come back into himself as well because you both pull away from each other at the same time, albeit a bit bashfully.
“Um, so. Why don’t you go get dressed, hm? We’ve got a train to catch.” He starts to move off the bed but turns back to you with a glimmer in his eye. “I will be needing my shirt, though…” He goes to move closer to you as though he were going to take the shirt himself. You lean back instinctively but relax at his wide grin, soft giggle escaping his lips as he leaves you to it.
You gaze after him, a fond smile curving at your lips as you wipe at your tear-stained cheeks, and your heart is too light to worry about anything else.
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Refreshed and ready to go, you pull up to the train station almost an hour before your scheduled train. It may be overkill but you are not missing another train, thank you very much. 
While you wait, Jimin gets you both coffee, for which you are eternally grateful. You sit on one of the benches, swinging your legs happily as you sip your drink. Neither of you speak but it’s a comfortable silence. Who would have thought you would get to feel so comfortable around Jimin?
“Let’s play a game” Jimin pipes up out of nowhere. You laugh at his innocent suggestion and decide to humor him.
“Alright I’m down. Whatcha wanna play?”
“Twenty Questions!” He looks so excited you can’t help but tease.
“What are we, 14?”
“If you don’t wanna play, all you have to do is say so, you don’t have to be mean about it.” He pouts and you laugh if only to stifle the urge to coo at him and pinch his cheeks.
“Fine I’ll bite. You go first.” 
“What’s your most embarrassing kink?” 
You smack him upside the head and roll your eyes. “Next.”
The questions continue back and forth for a few minutes, some of them serious, most of them anything but. You laugh until your stomach hurts about the time he got into an argument with his best friend over a dumpling incident.
“Listen, it was a very serious argument—” 
“Over dumplings.” 
“Excuse you, dumplings are very important, I’ll have you know—”
You laugh as he puffs his cheeks out at you. He even looks like a dumpling and you tell him as much, earning another pout from the man. Eventually the topic shifts to more personal things.
“Okay, okay, serious one now,” Jimin says and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”
The question is unexpected and you have to think for a moment. Have you ever been in love? You’re not really sure.
“Dunno,” you shrug. 
“You don’t know? How could you not know?” 
“I’m just not sure if what I felt was love or…something else.”
“Valid, I guess.” He falls silent for a moment before speaking. “I know for a fact I never have.”
This surprises you. “What? A guy like you? Surely, you’ve been in love before.”
“A guy like me?” Jimin smirks as he side-eyes you.
“Y-Yeah you know flirts with anything with a pulse.” 
“Okay, rude.” You both laugh but sober up pretty quickly. “But yeah no. I’ve had a few flings or whatever but never anything I could call love, you know? Just…never really met the right person.”
“What kind of person are you looking for?”
“Well…” He sits up a little straighter in his seat. “I don’t have, like, an ideal type or anything but…all I know is, that when I see them—the person I’m meant to be with—all my heart’s desires and dreams will come true.  And maybe that makes me naive or whatever but I feel like I’ll know when I see them. Maybe not immediately, it might take some time, but I believe my soul will recognize its other half.”
You sit there, shocked and dazed. You hadn’t expected such a serious answer from him. “I— That’s…that’s beautiful.”
“You should hear Jeongguk talk about it.” He laughs softly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Says he’ll hear bells or something. He’s a cute kid.”
“Yeah he is…” You’re still a little dazed hearing him speak so passionately about love. It makes you feel painfully inadequate.
“What about you? What kind of person could sweep the ever-elusive ___ off her feet?”
You pause, unsure how to answer. “Oh, uh… I’ve never actually thought about it? I don’t know, I’ve always felt like, if I think about it too much, I’ll get too excited. I’ve always been the overexcited type.” Jimin chuckles, remembering the other night. He knows that all too well.
“But, uh, yeah. If I think about it, I’ll anticipate it, I’ll wait for it, and if it doesn’t come well… that’ll make the disappointment that much more upsetting.”
Jimin frowns. “Why wouldn’t it come?” 
“I-I don’t know.” You fidget with your fingers, insecure. “What if… What if I never meet someone? What if I do and my heart—my soul—never recognizes its other half?” You look into Jimin’s eyes. “What if I’m just alone?”
His gaze holds yours for an immeasurable amount of time. 
“I think,” he says slowly, and you find yourself hanging off of every word, “that you’re overcomplicating it. Sure, life has its disappointments but it comes with the territory. Having things to look forward to makes life worth living, even if it’s something as simple as waking up the next morning.”
Jimin inches his hand slowly over to where yours rests on the grainy wood of the bench. He nudges your pinky with his own, wrapping your digit with his. It’s a small gesture but it fills you with an inexplicable warmth.
“All I’m saying is, it’s okay to want.” He says it with such conviction that you desperately want to believe him. “And it’s okay to feel disappointed if you don’t get what you want. But don’t let that stop you from doing it.”
You’re silent again but you can’t look away. The words come rushing out before you can stop them. “And what if I already do? Want, I mean.”
His eyes flick between both of yours and you fight a shiver. “Then it’s your job to do something about it.”
The sound of the train’s whistle breaks the moment and you find yourself taking in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You glance at the approaching train before looking shyly at Jimin.
“The train is coming. Wouldn’t wanna miss it again.” You try to joke but you can’t seem to shake the residual tension from before.
“And yet,” Jimin hums, barely above a whisper, “I find that I want to miss the train again and again.”
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The trip wraps up almost too quickly for your liking.
When the two of you reunite with your friends in Zürich, it’s as if something has changed. You find yourself glancing at Jimin more often than not, and he’s almost always staring right back at you. It should unnerve you, you think, but you feel…calm, almost peaceful knowing his eyes are on you. Powerful. You also find yourself thinking about him a lot, often at night once the lights are cut and all your friends are asleep. You can’t shake his words.
It’s okay to want.
It seems obvious; of course it’s okay for you to want things. But when he said it, it was as if he had opened up a whole new world to you. Had you been unintentionally stifling your own desires? What did you want? You can feel something niggling at the edge of your consciousness but it disappears when you try to pinpoint the feeling, like stars when you look too hard at them. It frustrates you and you want to talk to him but where you actively had to avoid him before your little detour, you can’t seem to find him alone for longer than a cursory greeting. An ache has settled low in your stomach and the feeling of something missing pervades you for days after. You don’t sleep well until the end of the tour.
You’re sadder than you thought you’d be to leave this trip but you chalk it up to how much fun you’ve had over the last two weeks. Definitely does not have anything to do with a certain pink-haired man. Absolutely not.
“Be sure to keep in touch, yeah?” Hobi smiles his beautiful sunshiny smile and you can do nothing but return it, pulling him into a warm hug.
“Of course! We’ll have to hit up a karaoke bar together. You know, one that you haven’t been kicked out of.” You elbow him in the ribs playfully.
“That was one time and I told you that to bond! You can’t make fun of me!” But his smile is just as bright if not brighter and you’re really going to miss him. 
You turn to Jeongguk and pull him into a hug as well. “It was so great getting to meet you. Now I know who to call when I need to liven up a party.” 
Flashing you his signature toothy grin, he practically bounces in place. “Anytime, ___. We should definitely hang soon!” After nodding your assent, you wave a final time as he joins Hobi and leaves the platform.
Your friends hug you and tell you they’ll see you later. With a wave, you send them off until you’re left with only one other person. Bracing yourself, you turn around and face Jimin with a shy smile. Your heart gives a dull throb but you ignore it.
“So,” you both begin before collapsing into nervous giggles. God, were you always so awkward? “You first,” he smiles.
“This is it, huh,” you marvel, reminiscing over the last few days. You can’t believe just two weeks ago you two were strangers, enemies even, and now you’re… Well, you’re not sure what you are but it’s definitely an improvement from your first encounter. “Can’t believe two weeks went by so quickly…”
“I know. Seems like just yesterday I was pulling your late ass onto the train,” Jimin smirks at you and you shove his shoulder.
“Yeah and making inappropriate comments about my underwear.” You glare at him playfully but it dissolves into a smile when you see his sheepish grin. 
“I never did properly apologize for that, did I?” He scratches the back of his head and you melt at the familiar gesture. 
“Hey, no worries. We’re cool.” Silence befalls the two of you. It seems to happen a lot recently, but it’s not a bad silence, just a thoughtful one. “Thank you. For everything.”
“It was no problem, sweetheart.” There’s something lurking in the depths of his eyes but you don’t dwell on it.
“Friends?” You stick out your hand between you. You can’t discern why Jimin’s face looks so drawn but the expression disappears just as quickly as you notice it, replaced by a beautiful smile. 
“Friends,” he repeats, soft as he grasps your hand almost reverently.
You look into his eyes and you once again find yourself trapped. The seconds tick on and you can’t bring yourself to remove your hand from his. His grip feels warm and comforting. Right. You don’t know if you want to think about what that might mean.
Inhaling deeply, you finally muster up the will to let go of his hand, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Jimin looks just as reluctant but plasters a smile. You return it, confused as to why there seems to be so much tension but you figure it’s the sadness of parting. Sending a last lingering wave, you go to turn when you feel a hand grip your wrist. You turn in surprise, a question in your eyes.
“I just… I have something for you.” Jimin lets you go for a moment to pull out a small box. He hands it to you, bashful. You accept it gently and slide the lid open. Inside, is the bracelet from that souvenir shop. The black pearls gleam back at you in the fluorescent light of the station and you have the strangest urge to cry. You look up at him, touched beyond belief.
“You—”
“May I?” He gestures to the bracelet and it takes a second for you to understand what he’s asking, too caught up in his thoughtfulness, but you nod silently when you do. You’re not sure you trust your voice right now.
Jimin beams, delicately taking the bracelet out of the box and wrapping the thin gold chain around your wrist. He clasps it securely so that the pink flower just brushes the inside of your wrist. Your skin tingles where he grazes you and the warmth spreads throughout your body until you’re filled with it. You look up at Jimin, eyes shining a little and you do your best to blink them back.
“I saw you looking at it back at the shop. Figured you’d like it.”
“I love it,” you whisper and you feel like it means so much more.
“Well…” Jimin clears his throat and steps away to a more appropriate distance. You hadn’t even realized you were practically on top of him. “I guess I should get going.”
“Yeah, you— I-I should head out, too.” You don’t want him to go, you realize, but you have nothing to convince him to stay. So you let him go.
“Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Jimin.”
You both back away slowly from each other, as if to extend the moment just a bit longer. He doesn’t look away from you and so you don’t either. Eventually, you have to turn around to actually watch where you’re going. When you look back, he’s gone.
There’s a lingering emptiness in your chest as you walk home, not even bothering with a taxi this time. The feeling of something missing has only worsened, and now it’s at its peak. You’re worried that you’ve missed your chance to find it and the knowledge that it might be too late lingers like an intrusive thought.
You deflate, shoulders hunching protectively as you make your way through the city. From what you’re protecting yourself from, you’re not sure. The bracelet on your wrist feels heavy, like a shackle, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.
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Just under two weeks have passed since the Eurail tour and you haven’t felt the same since.
You expected it somewhat. That’s what traveling does to you. It makes you appreciate the beauty of the world, shows you a new way of life, and changes your perspective and you never leave a new place the same as when you enter it. But the reason for this change has nothing to do with the wonders of a new country.
No, it centers on one person. Park Jimin.
It doesn’t take you long to realize what the emptiness means, to recognize the shape of the hole that has permanently taken up residence in your heart. You find yourself plagued by it at night, tossing and turning until you eventually fall into a fitful and restless sleep. 
He starts to permeate every facet of your life. It first begins with the dreams, your memories teasing you with glimpses of his round face and delicate cheeks, of warm brown eyes that seem to look right through you to your core, smoldering. Then it escalates quickly to lingering touches on the back of your hand when you know you’re alone or the bracelet on your wrist will suddenly feel too hot, like a brand, and it’s like he’s surrounding you—his arms around your waist, his scent filling your lungs, his breath cooling your feverish skin. You feel suffocated but the illusions leave you more empty each time.
Finally it gets worse; you start to see him everywhere. On your way to work, to the grocery store, to the bank—it doesn’t matter but your mind always tricks you into thinking you’ve caught sight of the familiar shock of pink hair or his signature leather jacket. Each time sends you reeling and you reach out briefly only for the haze to clear and you remember how very much alone you are. You even start to hallucinate his voice, the way sweetheart would flow so easily from his lips, a balm to your searing heart, and you think you might need to start seeing someone about this. It can’t be healthy.
Still, life goes on and so do you—for the most part anyway. You still work at the little convenience store around the corner from your apartment just to fill the time since there are no classes for you to take. You’re still waiting to hear back from schools about graduate programs but you don’t worry about it too much. You’re confident in your grades and your abilities to know you’ll be okay, it’s just a matter of time.
Your shift passes relatively quickly, time seeming even more meaningless since returning from your trip. You fiddle with your phone, shooting a quick text to Sheena confirming that you’ll see her tomorrow for dinner. You’re not really up for it but you haven’t seen much of anyone in the last two weeks and you miss her so you decide to go. 
Which reminds you, Hobi had managed to get your number and text you, asking if you wanted to go out next weekend with him and Jeongguk. You want to go but you’re not sure if you can get through an evening of them without thinking of a certain pink-haired man. Sighing, you glance at the time and note that it’s time to shut down the registers and begin closing. 
Just as you turn around the grab the money bag from underneath the counter, you hear the bell of the door tinkle open.
“Sorry,” you call, straightening as you reach for the register keys, “we’re actually clos—” Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh, god, I’m actually going insane,” is what makes it out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
Before you stands the object of your hallucinations in all his pink-haired glory. You blink several times, hoping the image will disappear quickly. When it doesn’t, your jaw goes slack.
Jimin looks just as shocked as you do but recovers faster. Of course he does. 
“___?”
You inhale sharply, trying to focus but it’s hard when he’s right in front of you and god, you’re not prepared for this—
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, are you alright?” The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like a gentle caress, and a strange feeling of relief fills you. Jimin approaches the register carefully, as if worried he’d scare you away if he moved too quickly. Maybe he’s right.
Your eyes drink him in greedily despite everything. He looks…good. An orange short-sleeved shirt with white and navy blue accents is tucked stylishly into a pair of black jeans that hug his legs nicely. You feel very insecure all of a sudden in your work uniform and you duck your head shyly. Finally, you find your voice as you clear your throat and tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
“H-How are you?” You wince at how small your voice sounds. Your heart flutters so fast in your chest you struggle to catch your breath but at the same time…it’s the first time you’ve been able to truly breathe. 
Jimin’s eyes soften and he smiles that smile that makes your knees weak. “I’m good. Very good. I— Are you closing up now?”
“Yeah, I’m, yeah. If you give me, like, 20 minutes, we can head out, together?” It comes out like a question but Jimin is nodding before you can even second-guess yourself and you’re running around like a madwoman trying to clear the register and finish restocking the last box from storage. After a final cursory glance and a mental run-down of your closing checklist, you deem yourself ready to leave. You spare Jimin a quick smile, motioning him to follow you out and you close up shop. 
“My, um,” you begin, unsure if it’s too forward for you to say this but you’re tired of constantly running around in circles to avoid your emotions. It’s time to face them head-on, dammit! “My apartment is just a few blocks over if you…if you wanted to stop over for some tea?”
You hold your breath for some reason as you wait for his response. His answering smile is dazzling. “Tea sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”
You don’t remember the walk to your apartment, which is literally around the corner, ever feeling so long. You’re all too aware of his proximity, can feel the faint warmth he emanates from his body, and you find yourself too preoccupied with the way his arm brushes yours as you walk side-by-side. Neither of you speak but it’s comfortable, just like it was when you parted. Though you are anxious to see him, a sense of calm pervades deep within you and you welcome instead of ignore the feeling.
As you step into your apartment, you panic slightly as you struggle to remember if you’ve cleaned up enough while toeing off your shoes. You send a surreptitious glance around, satisfied that nothing looks too out of place as you lead Jimin into your small kitchen.
“Black or green?” you ask him, gazing up at him only to find him staring unabashedly at you. He startles, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught but does not look away.
“Black would be great.” You smile, nodding before setting up a kettle to boil on the stove before turning to him. You’re not sure where to begin but it seems you don’t have to. 
“I missed you.”
Those few simple words send a pang through your heart and any resolve you had bleeds through you as you try not to melt into the floor.
“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, scared to speak too loudly and break the beautiful tension that’s building around you.
Jimin looks down at the floor, as if the knowledge that you missed him too was too much for him. “I-I thought about you. All the time.”
You soften, shuffling closer to him where he is braced against the fridge. His eyes are swimming with that familiar tenderness and you can actually recognize it. He looked at you the same way on that morning in the inn.
“I thought about you, too.” You feel more confident now. Something about knowing that he’s just as shy and uncertain makes you relax significantly. “God, I saw you everywhere. I thought I was going crazy.”
“I dreamt about you.” He says this in a rush, as if he thinks he needs to get to words out in case you stop him. With the way you’re hanging off every word, you think it’s safe to say you’re just as eager to listen as he is to speak. “About you, about us. I— I kept replaying the moment at the train station, thinking how stupid I was for letting you go—”
“Hey, hey, shh.” You close the distance between you, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “I let you go, too. We’re both a little stupid.”
Jimin breathes a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing as he fixates on your hand on his chest. “You’re still wearing it,” he breathes in wonder, bringing his own hand up to clasp yours as he inspects the bracelet still on your wrist.
“Yeah, I— It’s my favorite thing I own.” Jimin’s eyes practically melt into yours, the warm chestnut irises looking down at you with such fondness you can’t stop the swell of affection from rising within you. You think you’re going to burst from the amount of adoration and feelings swirling around inside you but it’s pleasant. You’re buzzing with excitement, no longer heavy with what ifs. 
Jimin seems to realize how close you two actually are at the same time you do because his bright smile gradually fades as his gaze flickers down to your lips. The air stills around you and your breath hitches. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, cloying and intoxicating.
“___,” he calls and you shiver a little at the sound of your name dripping from his lips like honey. “Sweetheart, may I kiss you?”
You nod, inhaling deeply. “Yes, please.”
Beaming, Jimin grasps the hand on his chest firmer and moves his other hand to cradle your cheek tenderly. He bends his head down, brushing your noses together sweetly. Your eyes slip closed of their own accord and you wait, lips parted as you feel his breath wash over you. A beat passes and suddenly you’re kissing, those plump lips that you’ve been dreaming about for days finally on yours. A tingle passes between your lips and you gasp, mouth parting more under the soft pressure of Jimin’s. He kisses you sweet and slow, as if savoring the taste of you. You feel his fingers thread their way into your hair to hold you in place more securely and you hum in satisfaction. Your other hand is gripping the material of his shirt at his waist and you shuffle a little closer, all too eager to feel his body against yours.
You melt into each other as you kiss, hardly breaking apart for air as you suck in greedy, rushed breaths from your nose. You’re content to just stay here forever but the loud screech of the kettle startles you into breaking the kiss. You both chuckle, exchanging a quick peck before you pull away gently to turn off the stove.
Jimin is not far behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your middle once the stove is off and you’re sure you won’t burn down your apartment. You smile to yourself before turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck, reaching up to nose along his jaw. 
“Now where were we?” You smirk lightly against his skin when you feel him shiver beneath your hands. A rush of heat flashes through you as you think of all the ways you could have him now that he’s here, finally. 
Jimin seems to be thinking the same because the hands on your waist tighten and you hiss in pleasure. “I believe I was kissing you breathless.” It’s his turn to tease this time as he grazes down the length of your neck and you bite back a moan at the soft, almost ticklish feeling of his lips against your throat.
“Hmm, I might need you to show me again. I don’t think I was breathless enough.” The words are false of course, compounded by the fact that you are currently struggling to get enough air.
“As you wish, sweetheart.” And with that, Jimin is on you again. You sigh into his mouth, reveling in the plush feel of his lips. He swallows the sound, pressing you further against him and you practically turn to jelly in his arms. He kisses you with a passion you had only just begun to feel before you were briefly interrupted and you can feel yourself getting swept up in it. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jimin swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips in a silent question and you swear your knees buckle from underneath you. You can’t stop the moan that escapes, humming into his mouth as you open up for him. Things turn hot and heavy very quickly and you find yourself backed into your kitchen counter as Jimin positively ravages you. 
You pull back for a moment, panting and your stomach tightens as you catch a glimpse of him. Jimin looks just as wrecked as you feel, pupils blown wide in desire and chest heaving with the effort to breathe. His lips are a swollen, pretty pink mess and a desperate whine tears itself from your throat when you notice. 
Leaning his forehead against yours, Jimin closes his eyes and catches his breath. “Do you want this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can slow down. I won’t be upset.”
“It certainly doesn’t feel like you want to slow down,” you tease, rolling your hips into his where you can feel the evidence of his desire against your stomach. His answering groan has you grinning wickedly.
“Sweetheart,” he moans, panting into the skin of your shoulder as you build up a steady rhythm and you can feel him stiffen further at the stimulation. “Please, answer me.”
“Yes, Jimin, please.” You punctuate the request with a final roll of your hips, pulling his head away from your shoulder so you can look him in the eyes. “Make me yours.”
A beat. Then, Jimin lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard and your thighs clench pathetically as you feel your wetness dampen your underwear further.
“You are going to be the death of me.” Pulling you to him, he crouches slightly until his fingers are brushing the backs of your thighs. “Jump,” he grunts.
You’re hesitant but you do so anyway and he catches you, taking a moment to steady you both before busying himself with placing kisses along your jaw.
“Where are we doing this, sweetheart?” Jimin murmurs against your skin and you have to take a second to focus yourself, a haze beginning to cloud your mind.
“Second door on the left,” you manage to choke out, whining as you feel his tongue leave a wet trail along your collarbone. You hardly remember the walk to your room but you certainly feel when Jimin deposits you gently on the bed. Backing up toward the headboard, you eye him greedily as he tucks his shirt to raise it over his head. You feel your mouth run dry and you lick your lips in anticipation.
“Something the matter, sweetheart?” He’s teasing you as he crawls on the bed, stalking. 
“Not at all,” you return breezily. “Just wondering when you were gonna come over here and make me forget my name.”
“Oh, not to worry. You won’t be able to think of anything else but me.”
Lunging at you, Jimin connects your lips together once again and your hands wander over the exposed skin. You marvel at the toned muscles of his stomach, humming and running your nails lightly over them. He shudders over you, breaking the kiss to pant in your ear. You use his momentary distraction to flip you both over so you’re on top.
“My turn,” you whisper. In a surge of confidence, you grasp the ends of your shirt and practically rip it off you. Jimin stares, mouth agape, at the newly exposed skin. He seems to snap himself out of his trance because he dives in immediately, littering your chest with kisses and nips. Your hips buck against his as he moves to unclasp your bra, cupping the flesh once he’s removed the offending garment. 
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, awed. “I could look at you forever.” 
Your ears burn hotly but you try to hide your embarrassment. “You just gonna look?” 
Jimin fixes you with a look. “I plan to do a lot more than just look, sweetheart. But I am patient. Something you should learn.”
“I’ve missed you for weeks now,” you gasp as he pinches one stiff peak as punishment for your mouthing off. “So forgive me if I seem a little eager to get to it.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He presses a kiss over your heart and if you weren’t already a puddle on the floor you would’ve melted. Somehow the words seem to refer to more than just your impatience.
You choke on a moan when Jimin pulls a nipple into his mouth, fingers tweaking the neglected one. The stimulation has you arching into his mouth and you grind down onto his lap, reveling in the feel of him, hard and thick, under you. You shiver at the thought of him inside you.
Jimin switches then, his other hand sliding down your back to aid your hips in their movement against his. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, fabric slippery as you move. Finally satisfied, Jimin pulls back, admiring the wet, flushed mess he’s made of your chest, and ventures lower. Kissing down your sternum, he gently guides you down onto your pillows. You don’t even fight him, too excited to slow him down for even a second.
“Won’t be needing these, now will you?” He tugs at the waistband of your jeans and you scramble to undo them, lifting your hips as you help Jimin tug them down and off your legs. You’re left in your underwear as your only defense against his gaze and you shyly close your legs. Jimin clicks his tongue in disapproval and places a hand on both knees. “No hiding, sweetheart.”
He makes quick work of your underwear until he’s staring at your glistening folds with reverence. You mewl as he swipes a finger down your slit, collecting the growing wetness. Jimin circles your clit and you groan, back arching off the bed as you seek more friction.
“Jimin, please,” you gasp. “Want your fingers.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely…” Jimin grins deviously before slipping his fingers down to your fluttering hole. Sinking one finger in, he allows you to adjust before thrusting shallowly. He adds another finger after a minute and curls them upward, massaging the soft spot with purpose. 
“Jimin, ah, please!”
“Patience, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ll give you what you want soon.”
You want to yell at him to get on with it but then he sinks a third finger in and the stretch burns so deliciously that you’re rendered speechless. The sound that reverberates around the room is obscene, filthy, but you can’t feel embarrassed as the fire in your stomach burns bright with each curl of Jimin’s fingers. He dips down to swallow your whines and cries in a searing kiss and you wrap your arms around him to crush him to you, eager to feel him.
“Now, Jimin, now. I’m ready.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Kissing your forehead, he pulls his fingers out of you gingerly before moving to remove his own pants and underwear. You watch as he revels each inch of perfect skin, mouth practically salivating as he removes the final layer and bares himself to you. He’s not ridiculously long but he’s thick and you can’t wait to feel him inside you.
You spread your legs in an open invitation but Jimin shakes his head with a smile before settling on the bed next to you. You’re confused until he pats his lap, beckoning you over. You move quicker than you ever thought you could and straddle him.
“Want to watch you. Use me as you need to. I’m yours.” He looks deeply into your eyes when he says this and you shiver at the conviction in his voice. You grab him by the base, making him hiss, and line him up with your entrance. 
“And I’m yours,” you sigh, sinking down fully onto his swollen length. The stretch burns wonderfully and you can’t help the drawn-out whine that rips itself from your throat. Jimin doesn’t seem to be faring much better.
“Oh, sweetheart. You feel so good.” He tips his head back, eyes glazed and unfocused. You’re not faring much better but you’re determined to give him the ride of his life.
Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you push yourself up and you can’t stop the cheshire grin from curving your lips when he moans softly. His hands grip your waist tightly as you begin to build up a rhythm, guiding your hips as best he can. 
“S-So good, Jimin. So big.” And you’re not just stroking his ego. The stretch has you groaning into his neck as you swivel your hips in a torturing motion. The hand on your hip tightens and keeps you moving steadily, no matter how much you wanna speed up.
“What did I say about patience, baby?” He clicks his tongue playfully and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Purposefully, you slow down your hips even more and clench tightly, dragging yourself up and down. Jimin chokes on air as you do so.
“What was that?” You flutter your eyelashes prettily at him and he growls.
“Don’t test me, sweetheart.”
A twinge of arousal flashes through you at the thinly veiled threat and you wonder just how dangerous Jimin can get. But, you suppose, you can save that for another time. Sufficiently placated, you resume your pace, taking care to kiss and bite at his neck, his jaw—whatever you can reach. His breath stutters as you continue your ministrations and you take pride in yourself for making him react so strongly. 
Eventually your thighs start to feel tired and the fire in your core, while burning pleasantly, has dulled to a frustratingly low simmer. You whine into Jimin’s neck, begging him to let you go faster.
“Please, Jimin. I wanna cum.”
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he acquiesces. “I wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”
His words spur you on and you begin a desperate pace, soreness long forgotten. The blunt tip of his dick nudges against the deepest part of you and you gasp as if you’ve been shocked. The pleasure begins mounting and your hips piston faster of their own accord. You feel his pelvis bump against your bundle of nerves with each drag of your hips, sending ripples of liquid heat traveling through your body.
You lean down to kiss Jimin but you can do little more than pant into his mouth, especially as he begins to buck up into you and meet your hips with every downward stroke. “H-ah, Jimin, close.”
“Atta girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” The way he whispers into your hair, as if you’re something precious, something to be treasured, sends you into another frenzy and you let out an answering cry. “Come on, cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours.”
That in combination with a punctuated thrust has you hurtling so fast into your orgasm that you’re blindsided, mouth opening in a silent scream as the pleasure overtakes you. You hear Jimin grunt as your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth and you’re suddenly desperate to make him feel just as good.
“Y-You too, baby,” you manage to choke out. “Wanna feel you.”
Jimin groans, clutching you tighter to him. “Yeah? Sweetheart wants my cum?” You nod and that’s all he needs to buck up into you mercilessly. He lasts one stroke, then two, before he’s moaning out loud, pulling you in for a desperate kiss as he releases inside you. You swivel your hips for as long as you can stand it until the oversensitivity becomes too much and you have to stop. 
You both stay there for a moment, breathing in each other as you come down from your highs. Looking shyly into his eyes, you find him looking at you with that same adoring stare and your heart throbs in response. You’re sure you look just as smitten.
“Hi,” you whisper. 
Jimin smiles and you swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. “Hi.”
“We’re a little sticky.” You grimace as you shift slightly, feeling the combination of your fluids leaking from inside you and onto his skin. Not to mention the thin layer of sweat that’s left on your skin.
“That we are.” He laughs goodnaturedly, fingers trailing a soothing path down the length of your back and sending pleasant tingles down your spine. “Shall we clean up?”
“Yes, please.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he laughs, kissing it lightly as he shifts. Jimin removes you from his lap so tenderly you blush under the attention despite your previous activities. 
Cleaning up turns into a full-blown shower, the two of you crammed into your small tub and taking turns under the spray as you lather each other’s bodies with soap. It’s comfortable, you realize—almost too comfortable—but you let yourself enjoy it, relishing in the feeling of wanting and being wanted in return.
Once you are clean and dressed in a thin nightgown and some sweats that you managed to find for Jimin, the two of you make quick work of changing the sheets and soon find yourself curled up around each other in a comfortable silence. You’re lying across his chest, hand clutched in his while his other arm is wrapped securely around your shoulders, holding you to him. Your thoughts wander to the Eurail trip—the trip that changed everything. You think about what would have happened if you hadn’t hadn’t been late and reached out for his hand that first day, if you hadn’t missed the train in that small-town station. You remember what Jimin had said about wanting, about finding his soul. Everything rushes back to you all at once and you can’t help the swell of emotion that rises within you.
“Jimin, I…” you begin, but you have no idea where to start. Everything feels so intense right now, so overwhelming, but Jimin seems to know exactly what you’re trying to say. 
“I know.” He says it so calmly, like he’s had time to think about this, about you, and you realize he probably has. Just as you did. You smile softly, looking deeply into his eyes as you move to cup his cheek.
“I’m sorry it took so long for my soul to recognize yours.” 
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Jimin cradles your face, gazing at you fondly and you have trouble remembering how to breathe. “I found you, and I’m never letting you go again.”
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© exoticarmyofcrowns 2020
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kaahaani · 4 years
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ArShi OS: An Exceptional Car Ride
Characters: Arnav x Khushi, other IPKKND characters are mentioned Genre: Smut Rating: Explicit [NSFW] Word Count: 6550
It is a truth universally acknowledged that once you start having great sex, it’s hard to go without it. Especially, when your once shy wife becomes comfortable with her sexuality and thrives off the power she gets by teasing you.
Arnav Singh Raizada was perhaps the most sexually frustrated individual at the party being held at Shantivan (obviously untrue, but he’s allowed to throw a pity party once in a while). The house was filled with guests – the bane of his existence at the moment - because NK was getting married, having found a woman that found his butchering of the Hindi language adorable and his personality loveable. Arnav was happy for his cousin; even though NK annoyed the hell out of him sometimes, Arnav knew that NK had a heart of gold and deserved all the happiness in the world. The wedding itself wasn’t the problem, rather, Arnav was unhappy with the fact that his beautiful wife had been running around everywhere for the past week. He was aggravated by the fact that he couldn’t even kiss his wife without being interrupted.
Every time he thought that he finally had a few minutes alone with her, someone burst in to interrupt them or called for her. His wife’s eyes would twinkle with mirth every time they got interrupted and she would peck his lips and tell him to be patient before she fixed herself and ran out the room at the speed of light. It really made him wonder how Shantivan functioned before Khushi, even the thought seemed impossible now.
Arnav was sure that she was rather enjoying torturing him like this, although Arnav acknowledged it wasn’t really her fault, but she was definitely laughing at his obvious frustration. He often wondered if it was payback for having teased her so much – especially about their suhaag raat. He recalled her running around everywhere, pretending to be busy – but the problem now was that she was actually busy.
Khushi worked way too hard throughout the day and by the end of the day he practically had to carry her up to their room and force her to sleep before she fainted from exhaustion. His wife loved planning weddings - being a part of the festivities and creating more work for herself with her elaborate schemes. It worried him so much that he had left strict instructions for Hari Prakash, who was to ensure that Khushi ate and took a break once in while when Arnav wasn’t around to make sure she took care of herself.
Even now Arnav’s eyes followed his wife as she ran through the crowds, she was either mingling with relatives and friends or being pulled aside by family members to discuss last minute glitches. She looked absolutely ethereal in a sheer pale gold saree, it was an AR Design from the line that was inspired by her. The saree was handcrafted and adorned with the gold dots and had heavy work on the pallu. She had paired it with the kundan set he had gifted her on their anniversary. Arnav had literally come to a standstill when he saw her, if Anjali had not walked in to go over some last minute details, the saree would have been laying on their bedroom floor. Alas, the world was unkind to Arnav Singh Raizada and he just had to admire from afar while business associates chattered in his ear.
For the second time in his life, Arnav envied NK – the first time had been during Aakash’s wedding when he had immediately hit it off with Khushi and now he was envious because NK got to be attached to the hip of the woman he was getting engaged to while he had to admire his wife from afar.
Arnav excused himself from (boring!) speculations about the stock market when he saw his wife struggling to pick up a box. To an outside observer the scene screamed meet-cute (apart from the fact that the two people meeting were already married). Khushi had managed to get the box off the table but it was clear that she had miscalculated and could not support the weight of it, leading to some interesting stumbling. Arnav breezed through the crowd and got to her just in time, exclaiming, “Careful Khushi!” as he put his hand under the box to support the weight of it. Khushi’s eyes widened before she let out a sigh of relief and smiled up at her husband tentatively waiting for the why aren’t you more careful-why couldn’t you ask for help tirade.
“Are you okay?” He asked as he took the box and placed it back on the table. She nodded with a smile, she loved hearing that particular phrase, tum theek ho, for some reason. “What the hell is in this box? And why do you need to carry it?!” He said, sounding quite exasperated. “Hari Prakash!” Arnav yelled.
“Arnav ji, I was just helping HP, the caterer delivered the mithai late – and all packed into one box so I thought-”
“So you thought you would take the opportunity to fall and break something, of course.”  
“I was not falling!”
“Really? Was that a new dance move then?” He asked, his eyebrow arched.
“Haan!”
“Oh really?”
“Haan, really.”
“Shut up Khushi.”
Khushi’s mouth fell wide open before she snapped it close, her eyes narrowing and her face scrunching up – a tell tale sign that she was angry.
“Laad Governor! Listen, I am already quite annoyed with you, don’t upset me further!” Khushi said, stressing the word annoyed by saying it in English, a word she had heard her husband use often.
“Acha? What are you annoyed about Mrs. Raizada?” Arnav asked with a smirk, his voice deep and husky, as he gently grabbed her hand in his and pulled her to him with enough force to bring her right against him, essentially capturing her. Khushi’s breath hitched as his eyes strayed on her lips before he leaned in closer, her eyes closed in anticipation but he just ran his nose along her jaw.
“Khushi, you didn’t say why you are annoyed.” He murmured against her skin, his lips barely touching her but his breath hitting her neck and causing her to shiver. The room seemed to go silent for a moment and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart, the hair on the back of her neck stood erect and she gulped. She cursed her body for its reaction to him, wondering why she still reacted like this. Arnav moved away just a smidge, his eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips and back again, slowly, causing her breath to hitch. Arnav’s mind went blank for a second, just like it seemed to every time he was this close to her, he always meant to fluster her but her proximity never failed to leave him flustered as well – albeit he was a lot better than his wife at hiding how flustered he was.
“Uh – that-” Khushi started to answer but stopped short when his other hand, the one that wasn’t holding her wrist, started rubbing circles into her bare back.
“Hmmmm.” He hummed when Khushi stopped short, his thumb grazing the bottom of the back of her blouse.
“Y-y-you didn’t say anything about the saree.” She murmured as his finger slipped under the bottom of her blouse causing her back to arch towards him. Khushi had gotten used to her husband’s compliments and it was odd to not hear them.
“Ahhhh.” He realized, an impish smile growing on his face as he pulled his wife flush against him and leaned down so he could speak into her ear. He felt her stiffen as his lips grazed her outer ear, and he could feel the goosebumps erupt on the arm he was holding behind her back. “Well, Mrs. Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada, you ran out of the room before I could even process how beautiful you look – if you had waited for another few seconds I would have let you know that you look like a goddess and we would have been very late to the engagement party.”  He whispered, his tone suggestive. “In fact, we can skip out right now, I don’t think people will notice.”
The mention of people effectively brought Khushi out of her trance, her wide eyes looked around the room – although they were in a secluded corner anyone could walk by. “Arnav ji, let me go.” She murmured trying to get away, alas her husband was a lot stronger than her and had no intention of letting her go at the moment. He pulled her even closer.
“Arnav ji, please.” She whispered putting her hands on his chest, but her voice was raspy and it seemed to ask him to come closer rather than move away. If Khushi was honest, she didn’t want him to let go, especially not after she put her hands on his chest and felt his heart hammering away under her hands.
Arnav shook his head lightly, placing a kiss on her nose. “Your nose is red.” He whispered huskily rubbing his nose against hers, his eyes closing as his forehead came to rest against hers. Khushi’s eyes closed on their own accord as she tried to regulate her breathing, it didn’t help though, because with every breath she inhaled his intoxicating scent, a scent she often sprayed on his pillow to fall asleep on nights when he wasn’t at home. Her knees were threatening to give out underneath her, if it wasn’t for the support of Arnav’s arms, she would have probably lost her balance.
She felt like she was ablaze even though their actions were seemingly innocent, he was just leaning his forehead against her but the fact that he was so close that she could feel their breaths mingling and the heat emanating from his body made it so sensual. She was about to speak but she let out a gasp when she felt one of his hands come up and caress her cheek softly, but with enough pressure that his touch left tingles in its wake. She felt him move back a bit and her eyes opened and met his, he was staring at her intently, his fingers caressing the lines of her face, he traced her cheek, and then her chin. She gulped when his eyes flickered down to her lips yet again, she could feel the air thicken around them as he slowly ran his thumb across her bottom lip, she let out an involuntary moan and his eyes grew wide before they flew to hers.
“Arnav-” She meant to say more, to remind him that there were people around, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was his name, and it sounded more like a moan than it did as the warning she wanted it to be. His hold on her didn’t loosen, he moved in even closer, something she thought wasn’t possible, his chest touched hers with every breath he took. Khushi had to hold back a groan because she could feel her nipples harden under her blouse with every breath and she could feel the familiar knot in her stomach tightening. She stifled a moan when his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, his eyes locked with hers.
They were so engrossed in each other and failed to hear the footsteps heading towards them. “Oh, not again.” Aakash groaned as he turned the corner and saw his brother and sister-in-law. It was quite a scene, Khushi was pressed up against Arnav, her hands resting on his chest, one of his hands up the back of her blouse, and their faces were a mere few inches away. Khushi tried to push away from Arnav but he held her close and turned to Aakash.
“Did you need something Aakash?” He asked, his voice even, his eyebrow arched.
“Di is looking for Khushi ji.” Aakash said. “So if you’re done…” He smirked causing Arnav to narrow his eyes. “I’ll go.” Aakash said scurrying away.
“Hai Devi Maiyaa, this is so embarrassing.” Khushi murmured watching her Jija Ji scurry away.
“How so? You’re my wife, we’re not doing anything wrong -”
“You – ugh, let it be. Arnav Ji, let me go please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She said but it sounded more like a question.
“Can I interest you in a quickie?” He teased causing her to blush and throw her hand over his mouth to silence him.
“You’re – you’re so shameless! Someone is going to hear you!” She said. “Let go, please.”
“Nope.”
“What do you want?” She asked narrowing her eyes at him.
“You know what I want.” He said, his voice dropping an octave.
Khushi smiled up at him, his hands dragging down his chest as she leaned up to kiss his cheek but her lips didn’t meet his cheek, rather her hand dragged over the crotch of his pants causing Arnav’s eyes to widen. His grip on her hand loosened every so slightly and Khushi was about to lean up to whisper in his ear when she caught sight of a cream saree. “Nani Ji!” Khushi exclaimed trying to push Arnav away.
“Haha Khushi, I am not falling for that.” He murmured about to lean down to kiss her when he heard a throat clear behind him. Arnav’s eyes widened comically as he let go of Khushi, it was quite difficult to surprise Arnav Singh Raizada but being caught canoodling with his wife by his grandmother of all people was definitely surprising.
“If you don’t have a problem with it, may I steal Khushi bititya away from you?” Nani said as he turned around, one of her eyebrows arched and a disapproving look on her face that did not intimidate anyone due to the fact that she was fighting a smile and failing.
“Of course.” Arnav said, calmly while his wife freaked out for the both of them. She followed Nani quietly turning to look at her husband who had the audacity to wink at her.
______________________________________________________________________
The best laid plans of Arnav Singh Raizada only go awry when they concern spending time with his wife. He had overheard his staff clamouring about the newest Salman Khan movie – he knew enough from Khushi to conclude that it was the second installment of the cop movie with the weird dance move. He knew that nothing would make his wife happier than to go see the movie but he wasn’t a fan of crowded movie theatres.
So, he did what any loving (and rich!) husband would do. He rented out a private screening room in the hottest theatre in town, it had opened recently and promised viewers a lavish and comfortable experience. They had couches instead of movie seats, and also housed a great restaurant on site.
He was relishing the opportunity to spend some time with his wife alone, but then Di had overheard him and came to the conclusion that Arnav wanted to take the family out – considering their cousins from Australia had also been wanting to see the movie. Arnav could not refuse, which is why he looked rather defeated as he walked into the theatre beside his wife after dinner.
Although he hadn’t told Khushi of his original plan, she understood her husband well enough to catch the general gist of what he was trying to do. Khushi let everyone settle into their respective couches and pulled her husband all the way to the back by the door, away from their family. Arnav arched his eyebrow at her in question but she just leaned up and kissed his cheek before sitting down on the grey couch, crossing her legs, pulling her husband right beside her and snuggling into his side.
Arnav smiled and pulled her closer as she grabbed the soft grey blanket provided and threw it over their legs. “Thank you.” She said quietly, her eyes shining with happiness as he looked down at her. She had been ecstatic when she learned that they were going to the movies, she didn’t think she’d have the chance to see this one in theatre considering all that was going on.
“You would totally leave me for Salman Khan, wouldn’t you?” He teased.
“Of course.” She laughed snuggling further into him but she pulled away when he stiffened, she looked up to see that he looked rather crestfallen. “Arnav Ji, you know I am joking! I would never-” She stopped short when a chuckle escaped him.
“You’re so easy to tease.” He said tapping her nose as the room darkened, Khushi made a hmph sound while lightly slapping his arm before cuddling into his side again pulling his hand into hers and holding it tightly.
“Laad Governor.” She whispered as everyone around them quietened.
“Always.” He whispered back as his wife’s attention as drawn to the screen.
Arnav genuinely tried to watch the movie – but he was bored within the first twenty minutes. As always, the story was predictable and he honestly felt that most Salman Khan movies were very similar. He looked down at his wife, her eyes were glued onto the screen, an excited smile on her face. She occasionally squeezed his hand, which was in hers and resting on his knee, when she was amused. At least one of them was enjoying the movie. Arnav’s eyes scanned the dark hall, illuminated by the screen. He caught sight of Payal and Aakash whispering to each other and his cousins throwing popcorn at the back of NK’s head. His Mami and Di had their eyes glued to the screen.
He looked back down at his wife when he felt her hand move from his knee to find her staring right back at him, her face flushed, his eyes flashed back at the screen but didn’t find anything that would elicit the pink tinge in her cheeks. He looked back down at her and arched his eyebrow. She shook her head and looked away, her face turning even redder, her breathing a bit louder than usual. Arnav watched his wife closely as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before moving her lips quickly as if she was talking to herself.
“What’s wrong, Khushi?” He whispered into her ear, she stiffened in his arm and shook her head again. Arnav’s fingers traced over her wrist, and noticed her gulp. “Khushi.” He murmured, his voice husky, as he pulled slightly on her chin so she would face him. “What’s wrong?” He asked imploringly while looking into her eyes.
Her eyes seemed unfocused and she took a deep breath again before tentatively answering him. “I was going to…try something, and then I couldn’t.” She murmured trying to pull away but he didn’t let her go.
“Try something?” He asked, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion. But she didn’t answer, she just blushed prettily and pulled her gaze away firmly.
Arnav Singh Raizada was great at collecting information and arriving at a possible conclusion – a skill honed by his years at AR. He thought back to what had brought his attention back to Khushi – her hand moving from his knee, particularly up his leg. And she was looking at him, her face was flushed, her breathing louder and her eyes unfocused. Arnav looked down at his wife again noticing that she was biting her bottom lip. That was the last clue he needed to arrive at his conclusion – his wife was turned on – he knew how to recognize the signs.
His lips pulled up in a smile as he realized what she was probably trying to do. His wife had come really far in being comfortable with her sexuality and sex in general – but there were still some things that she was hesitant about.
Arnav pulled his hands out of hers and placed it on her knee, under her kameez, he felt her stiffen again and look up at him. He looked right back at her as he slowly dragged his hand up her thigh, he was glad that she was sitting cross-legged on the sofa because it allowed him to easily move his hand from the front of her thigh to the inside. Her eyes widened as his fingers lightly traced over her womanhood over the cloth of her pajami.
“Is this what you were going to try?” He whispered into her ear as his finger moved up and down along her heat, slowly. She let out a small gasp that no one would hear over the blaring sound of the movie. She didn’t answer, he stilled his fingers. “Khushi, I asked you a question.” He murmured his voice husky, he felt and saw the shiver that ran through her as she nodded.
“Hm, and why did you stop?” He asked, using the heel of his palm to rub against her, her eyes closed at the feeling. He stilled when she didn’t answer again and looked at her expectantly.
“I was embarrassed.” She murmured, he moved his hand upwards and pulled on the elastic band of her pajami, his hand easily pulling it down slightly. He ran his fingers along her covered slit, he could feel the heat over the thin layer of her panties, and he let out a very low groan when he felt the wetness.
“Of what?” He murmured running his finger up and down her slit over and over again. She bit her lip to stop a moan and took a deep breath in before she answered.
“Of someone catching us…but mostly your reaction.” She mumbled, her eyes flickering to the screen where a loud dance number seemed to have started.
“Well Mrs. Raizada.” He whispered while pulling her panties to the side. “We’re sitting all the way at the back of a dark theatre, covered by a blanket so no one is going to catch us unless you scream.” Khushi bit her lip hard as his finger met her wetness without any barriers. “And my reaction would be pretty similar to what yours is now.” He added, biting her ear as he ran his nail over her clit. Khushi’s eyes closed as he teased her slowly. “Eyes on the screen Khushi, at least pretend to be interested.” He whispered into her ear as his finger moved down her slit and to her opening.
“Arnav.” She gasped as he slid a finger inside her, groaning quietly in her ear as he felt her wetness and warmth around him.
“Shhh, Khushi. You have to be quiet.” He whispered in her ear as he slowly moved his finger in and out. She bit her lip to stop a moan when he added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles into her clit. He smiled as her back arched in frustration, he could tell that she wanted to move against his fingers so he would move faster but he deliberately went slow.
She gripped his upper arm tightly, and looked up at him pleadingly, moving her hips slightly as she bit down harshly on her bottom lip. “Eyes on the screen, Khushi.” He murmured as he sped up, his movements sharp and his fingers moving easily with how wet she was.  He picked up the pace of his fingers, sliding deeper and harder into her, he rubbed the nail of his thumb against her clit, the sharp sensation along with the rapid movement making her arch her back further as she gasped.
“Khushi.” He warned, slowing down so she didn’t scream.
“Arnav, please.” She mumbled.
“You have to quiet.” He murmured, the song had come to an end – and although the sound was still quite loud it would be a lot easier to pick up sounds between dialogues that it had been between the song. She nodded, closing her mouth and pressing her lips together as he resumed the movements. His fingers arched deep inside her, rubbing against the spot that always made her scream. She was fighting back the urge now but her body was writhing as she struggled to stay in her seat, her other hand grabbed the sofa cushion tightly.
“Maybe I should stop right now.” He murmured into her ear but continued thrusting his fingers into her. “So you can feel my pain too.” He added referring back to what he had dubbed the week from hell. He had to stifle his laughter as her head whipped up and her eyes met his, giving him an angry look. “Tuck your face into my shoulder.” He murmured when he felt her insides quivering, he sped up just a tad and he felt her convulse around his fingers. Her back arched and she moved her hips, pushing him deeper inside her as she bit his arm to keep quiet. He let out a soft groan at the feeling of her coming around his fingers, it had been too long.
Khushi’s body felt like jelly as she felt his fingers slide out of her, she had to hold back a groan at the loss of the fullness she felt. Her eyes met her husbands’ as he pulled his hand out of her pajami, fixing her clothes in the process. His eyes locked with hers and he licked his fingers clean. Khushi’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed causing him to wink at her. He was thoroughly fascinated and amused by the duality of his wife’s behaviour – at times she would flush and seemed rather embarrassed by anything remotely sexual but at other times she was a seductress, pushing him onto their bed and having her way with him. He enjoyed both aspects of her, he really enjoyed it when she let herself go and acted on her desires without overthinking things though.
He could tell that her mind was working a mile a minute as the two of them just sat in their seats, their eyes locked, completely uninterested in the movie that was playing. He could see his own desire reflected in her eyes.
Khushi’s eyes trailed down her husband’s body, stopping at his crotch, his pants were tight enough for her to realize how turned on her husband was. Her eyes flashed back up to his and he arched his eyebrow at her. “Arnav ji, lets go.” She whispered.
“Where?��� He asked surprised.
“Home.” She whispered.  
“But the movie?” He asked, surprised that she would even think of leaving a Salman Khan movie.
“I don’t care right now.” She murmured, her face turning even redder. If someone asked her what the movie was about she would only be able to recount the first 30 minutes anyways.
“Khushi-” Arnav was about to say something to her when the overhead lights all turned on, his eyes turned to the screen to see that it was the intermission.
Khushi’s eyes grew wide and turned towards the front of the room but everyone seemed to be preoccupied with their neighbours, discussing the movie. Anjali, who was sitting four rows ahead of them turned around to face them with a smile. But her smile fell quickly when she saw how red Khushi was and how tense her brother looked.
“Khushi ji, are you okay?” Anjali asked, concern dripping from her voice. Khushi opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out.
“She’s not feeling to well Di, I think I’ll take her home now.” Arnav suggested to Anjali while squeezing his wife’s hand.
“Of course. Would you like me to come with you?” Anjali asked but Arnav shook his head before the sentence had even ended.
“It’s all right Di, there is no reason for you to come with. I think Khushi is just tired with running around everywhere, I’ll take her home. Enjoy the movie and we’ll see you all later.” He said, his voice even. Khushi just nodded at her sister-in-law.
“Okay, Khushi ji, I hope you feel better soon. Get some rest.” Anjali said with a smile.
“I doubt she’s getting any rest.” Arnav mumbled under his breath causing Khushi to elbow him conspicuously as she got up off the sofa, “Walk in front of me.” Arnav whispered causing Khushi’s blush to deepen when she realized the reason for the request. She walked in front of her husband as they exited the theatre quickly hoping to avoid the rest of the family.
“I can’t believe you left a Salman Khan movie.” Arnav teased to break the silence as they walked towards the car.  The parking lot was silent and dark considering the last shows for the day were running and everyone was inside.
“I can’t believe you did that with our family in the same room.” She said looking over her shoulder, although she wasn’t really protesting inside thinking about it now made her wonder what possessed her. Maybe it was the dark theatre and the proximity of her husband.
“It was your idea wifey, and you weren’t exactly complaining.” He teased as they approached the car.
Khushi turned around as soon as she reached the car, she was going to say something but before she could even open her mouth her husband had her pinned against the passenger side of the car. Khushi let out a small moan at the feel of his body pressed into her, she could feel his hardness against her stomach and just like that the hesitancy that had cropped up disappeared all together.
Arnav leaned down and took her lips in a frenzied kiss, his hands trailing down his wife’s body and resting at her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her hands found their way around his shoulder and her fingers tangled into the short hair at the base of his neck, scratching and pulling. He bit her bottom lip roughly causing her to moan and open her mouth to him, and she felt herself melt into him like always. Her hands pulled him closer, their teeth clashing together at her impatience. She slowly gyrated her hips against his, feeling his hardness and causing him to groan against her mouth.
“You’re killing me. Home.” He whispered pulling away slowly. Khushi felt her breath hitch at the look in his eyes, she just nodded as he opened her door and motioned for her to get in. She heard the groan that was probably not meant for her ears as he closed her door and walked around the car to the driver’s side.
Khushi’s eyes stayed on her husband as he drove, and his eyes stayed on the road in order to not kill them before they got home. Khushi was an expert at reading Arnav Singh Raizada – and at the moment he was very frustrated, his hands were gripping the steering wheel too tightly, he changed the gear with more force than needed and he didn’t hit the breaks smoothly. He was definitely going over the speed limit but the roads were thankfully not too busy.
“Stop staring at me Khushi.” He murmured as he changed lanes to overtake a smaller car.
“You stare at me all the time.” She retorted, and it was true, she could always feel his eyes following her around a room. The past week had been almost unbearable because every time she turned around he had that come hither look in his eyes that she found hard to resist.
“You’re distracting me.” He said.
“Really, I thought the Arnav Singh Raizada was immune to distractions.” She teased placing her hand on his thigh close to his crotch. The car swerved sharply to the left for a moment and Khushi let out a giggle. “I guess not then.” She laughed.
“Behave Khushi.” He chastised her, finally looking over at her. She had a smile on her face and a mischievous look in her eyes. He knew that Khushi derived immense pleasure and satisfaction from throwing him off guard and teasing him. She had claimed that she was rather impressed by the power she had over ASR.
Her fingers continued to stroke his thighs over his black slacks, slowly, in circles. “Khushi.” He warned again.
“I didn’t say anything before.” She murmured running her hands further up his thigh running her hands over the zipper of his slacks. Arnav took a deep breath in as he felt Khushi unzip his pants and reach inside his pants to grasp him, slowly running her hand up and down the hard flesh. “Slow down.” She murmured when he steadily increased the speed of the car, his foot pressing down on the pedal.
“That’s enough.” Arnav murmured as he pulled off the main road and onto a smaller road.
“You’re going the wrong way.” Khushi murmured, her hand stopping its slow up and down movement and moving away.
“Am I?” He murmured as he turned onto another road, and Khushi’s eyes lit up in recognition. He was going to the Raizada cottage, the one where his mother had planted the elaborate rose garden.
“I thought we were going home.” Khushi replied as the car pulled onto the unpaved road that led to the house. He pressed the breaks abruptly as soon as the house appeared in front of them and put the car in park.
“I can’t do this at home, can I?” He said turning to her and unbuckling her belt while pushing his seat as far back as it would go. He caught her lips with his teeth before kissing her, his head slanting as he thrust his tongue along hers pulling her up off her seat and onto his lap in the process. It wasn’t as smooth as expected and Khushi let out a moan, of pain, as her leg hit the gear shift.
“Sorry, are you okay?” He murmured against her lips as she settled into his lap. She nodded as her hands went around his shoulders, locking behind the driver’s seat. His hands came to rest at the bottom of her back.
“Mhmm.” Khushi responded while taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down gently. Her hand slipped down the front of his body to grasp his hardness again as her tongue dueled with his, meeting him thrust for thrust.  
Her lips broke off from his but didn’t leave his skin, she trailed kisses down his stubbly cheek and then his neck, tracing the muscles of his neck with her tongue and running her teeth over his Adam’s apple causing him to groan as her hands moved up and down his cock, her touch soft yet firm.
His own hands worked their way up to the zipper at the back of her kameez, unzipping it all the way to the bottom of her spine. He pushed her away from her a little to grasp the shirt and throw it over her head onto the dashboard, leaving her clad in a pale pink bra which thankfully opened at the front. It met the same fate as her shirt and landed on the dashboard.  
Khushi’s hand left his cock to unbutton his pants, and pull his shirt out, she frantically unbuttoned the shirt before moving her hands along his abs and up his chest and to his shoulders to slide the shirt off, he moved up slightly so the shirt fell behind him, her hands grasped it and threw it onto the backseat.
His hands slid up to her breasts, cupping the weight in his hands and squeezing lightly as she moved to start kissing and biting down his exposed upper body, her hands running over the indents and bulges of his upper body. Her hands wrap around his dick again, this time with more pressure causing him to instinctively lean into her touch.
He let out a moan and feels her smile against his chest, she loved the heavy weight and heat of him in her palm. She moved back slightly, meeting his eyes and revelling at his slackened jaw. She could feel the painful throbbing between her own legs return despite her earlier orgasm.
“Fuck Khushi.” He let out a loud moan when she traced his slit with the pad of her thumb. “Stop.” He groaned.
A couple of months ago Khushi would have let go of him and flushed red, thinking she did something wrong. But now she knew that it wasn’t that she was doing things wrong, she was doing them too right - he had taught her exactly how to touch her by whispering instructions in her ear in their dark room.
“Lean back.” Arnav murmured as he tried to pull her pants down. It was a struggle considering that she was straddling him.
“Ahhh!” Khushi screamed in shock when she leaned back too much and the horn let out a blare. The two of them paused for a second before laughter filled the car. Khushi wiggled back to the passenger side seat again with a chuckle and wiggled out of her pajami and panties as Arnav pushed his pants and boxers down.
“Come here.” He murmured pulling her back to straddle him, her knees resting on either side of the narrow seat. He pulled her flush against him, running his length along her slit. They both let out a moan at the feeling, she was definitely ready for him.
Arnav grabbed his dick with one hand and lined himself up with her entrance allowing her to slowly sink onto him. Khushi let out a loud moan as she felt him enter her until he was fully sheathed inside her. Khushi’s eyes opened and met his, he watched her intently, her mouth was wide open and she looked rather satisfied.
“It’s been way too long.” Arnav murmured, his forehead resting against hers as his hands moved to her hips, digging into the skin, and helping her move on top of him. They quickly established a steady rhythm, the car filled with sounds of loud moans and quiet sighs as they moved against each other. Their lips found each other’s between moans and their hands travelled and grasped naked skin.
Arnav pulled on a lever to the side of his seat, reclining it back even further. Khushi moaned in appreciation as her hands came to rest on his chest, she pushed against him to move herself on top of him. Arnav groaned watching his cock slip in and out of his wife. His hands grasped her hips again as he helped her move faster on top of him, he watched as her breasts swayed and leaned up to take a peak into his mouth, biting down on her nipple softly.
“Arnavvvvvvvvv.” She moaned. “More.”
Arnav’s arms tightened around her waist, holding her as he moved with her increasing the pace and causing Khushi to let out little whimpers with each hard thrust of his hips against hers. Her whimpers grew louder and he let out a groan as her walls started clenching around him. She fell forward, burying her face into the crook of his neck, letting out a loud moan at the change of angle. She bit his shoulder as she felt the coil in her stomach snap and her orgasm rushed through her as he pulsed inside her.
“I can’t…I can’t breathe.” Khushi whispered seconds later, pulling back panting, her eyes locked on Arnav’s. Arnav grinned at her watching her eyes flutter shut, she looked beautiful – her face flushed, her hair a mess, and her lipstick smeared across her chin.
"You better catch your breath then Mrs. Raizada because we’re not done yet.” He whispered.
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braincoins · 3 years
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Unusual Halloween Movies
Tired of Jason, Freddy, and Michael? Want something new this year? Boy, do I have some treats lined up for you! I’ve used JustWatch to list the streaming options (though these are US streaming options; I maaaaay be up for some streaming fun on Halloween...). I’ll tell you right now, this list can almost perfectly be broken into three categories: Horror-Comedy, Sci-Fi Horror, or International Horror.
American Mary -  A medical student drowning under tuition debt finds a lucrative practice when she enters the world of body modification. ngl, I remember liking this movie but it’s been a bit since I saw it, so for the CONTENT WARNINGS I’m going to straight up rip the MPAA here: Rated R for strong aberrant violent content including disturbing images, torture, a rape, sexual content, graphic nudity, language and brief drug use
Ava’s Possessions - Ever wonder what life is like once all your demons have been exorcised - literally? Now that Ava is free of the demon that once possessed her, she’s out of a job, down a few friends, and facing charges for the acts of violence her demon did. The only way to get out of trouble is to go to the demon-equivalent of AA. CONTENT WARNINGS: mostly blood and bad language; some mild sexual content 
Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon - A journalism grad student interviews a young man in training to be the next slasher killer, ala Jason/Freddy/Michael. An absolute treat of a movie for anyone who loves slasher films; it’s about 3/4 mockumentary, 1/4 actual horror film when she realizes that, no, really, he’s going to go kill all those co-eds. CONTENT WARNINGS: Blood, gore, naked boobs (”Ugh. Is that REALLY necessary?” “Now, Taylor, who’s telling this story?”), sex, occasional panty shots (because, again, slasher films). 
Bubba Ho-Tep - OH MAN another one I had to go back and add in ‘cause REALLY NOW. Elvis is in a nursing home (at least, he says he’s the real Elvis) and he and JFK (who is played by Ossie Davis - who you will note is NOT white) have to fight off a resurrected mummy who sucks the souls of the living out of their assholes. Bruce Campbell stars. HOW IS THAT NOT AWESOME ENOUGH FOR YOU?! CONTENT WARNING: Um... look, I think you kinda already know what sort of content to expect given what I just told you about the story.
Bulbbul (Netflix Original) -  (Hindi Language) During the 19th century Bengali Presidency, something - or someone? - is haunting the woods around a lord’s estate, killing men in gruesome ways. The lord has left his estate in charge of his young wife, while his younger brother, who’d been away studying in London, returns to hunt down whatever is causing these mysterious deaths. CONTENT WARNINGS: child bride, blood, and what Netflix calls “sexual violence”, meaning a rape scene so graphic (despite not showing any nudity or genitalia) that it is GUARANTEED to make you uncomfortable. The movie was written and directed by a woman, so there is nothing intended to be “sexy” about this at all. If you can make it through that scene, though, there is a definite payoff for it. (Or should I say “payback”?)
Eli (Netflix Original) - A young, incredibly sick boy with a fragile immune system is brought by his parents to a clinic for an experimental treatment that may be their last hope. But all is not as it seems within the walls of this place... perhaps literally. CONTENT WARNINGS: mostly just language, a few mild jump scares. People get set on fire at one point. No biggie. 
Errementari: the Blacksmith and the Devil (Netflix Original) - (Basque Language) Based on a Basque folk tale. Eight years after the First Carlist War, a government official comes to a small, impoverished Basque town asking after the blacksmith. Everyone tries to warn him away; the blacksmith is an evil, evil man. But he is on the trail of some Carlist gold that might be in the smithy, and the prospect of the gold wins him some helpers. And while everyone is distracted by that, a young orphan girl manages to get onto the blacksmith’s property. And what she finds there, no one could have expected... CONTENT WARNINGS: I took a screenshot of Netflix’s list of warnings just because it amuses me:
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[sings “One of these things is not like the others...”]
Europa Report - Look, I really can’t recommend this enough for fans of found-footage features and people who can stand slower-paced, constantly-building terror. An international mission is sent to investigate Europa, one of the moons of Jupiter. (Those of you who are fans of real-world space exploration know that Europa is considered a prime target for extraterrestrial life within our solar system.) Contact was lost with the mission for a long time, until the data streams came flooding into Earth all at once. And what they showed... CONTENT WARNINGS: Like I said: slower pace than most horror/thriller movies. It builds slow and steady. There’s really not much in the way of blood and gore, though; an excellent example of terror without resorting to buckets of red corn syrup.
Event Horizon - Hellraiser in Space? Hellraiser in Space. Except the Lamentation Configuration is a fucking SPACE SHIP. Also, props for genre-savvy cast. CONTENT WARNINGS: EYE SCREAM. Blood, gore, and, no really, THE EYE THING. Did I mention the gore and the blood? Oh, and language. And blink-and-you-miss it nudity & sex.
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Grabbers - Strange creatures are attacking a small Irish coastal town and the only way to protect yourself is... to be drunk? CONTENT WARNINGS: I mean, it’s Irish and everyone’s drunk, so bad language (by American standards) is a given. That’s... really about it, unless you have a tentacle phobia.
Green Room -  An up-and-coming punk band show up to play a gig and realize too late that they’re playing at a Neo-Nazi club. And when they happen to see something they... really shouldn’t have, it becomes an all-out fight for survival. Same director as Murder Party, though this movie was made later with a much better budget. CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, blood, gore, and yes, some dogs die because they were trained to be vicious attack dogs by Neo-Nazis. :( Also, the most important content warning of all? PATRICK STEWART PLAYS A NEO-NAZI. (You think I’m joking, but for someone who grew up with him as Jean-Luc Picard, it is downright unsettling to see, okay?)
Life - Think Alien meets Europa Report (above). The six-member crew of the International Space Station are given a sample from Mars that might contain actual extraterrestrial life.  CONTENT WARNINGS: Blood. No, let me say that again: BLOOD. Sounds of bones breaking. Alien creature entering someone’s mouth and killing them from the inside (probably through a combination of choking them/asphyxiating them on their own blood/devouring their blood? It’s not clear, it’s just UNSETTLING).
Murder Party - This is what happens when snobby art school brats try to kill someone. (Read: it doesn’t go well.) Fuckin’ bop of a Halloween song over the end credits, too. Also, at least two characters are canonically bisexual. Same director as Green Room, though this movie was made first (with a much lower budget). CONTENT WARNINGS: bad language, blood, gore, nudity, mild sexual content (the nudity is supposed to be “artistic”). The dog probably DOES die, given the circumstances, but it doesn’t happen on screen, at least? And the dog gets some pretty decent comeuppance first... Also, 1000000% accurate cat representation. 
The Perfection (Netflix Original) - A former cello virtuoso (virtuosa?) gets in touch with her former teacher and meets his new star pupil. An instant connection is formed between the two women... or is it? (Yes, there are lesbians!) CONTENT WARNINGS: oh chaos, where do I start? Bugs under the skin, hacking off body parts, blood, gore, mild sexual content, sexual abuse, and the movie itself is complete and utter MINDFUCKERY. Did you like “Tales from the Crypt” as a kid? You’ll probably dig this. 
Ravenous - With apologies to all Native Americans, but at least they did get actual Native American actors for those parts (George is played by a Pueblo actor; his sister Martha is played by an actress of Menominee and Stockbridge-Munsee descent). A soldier who won a questionable victory during the Mexican-American war is given a hero’s status and then an exile to a remote fort in the Sierra Nevadas. Not long after he arrives, a would-be settler arrives with a harrowing tale, calling for help for what few survivors there are of his wagon train. The two friendly Native Americans at the fort issue warnings that go unheeded, of course. CONTENT WARNINGS: Blood, gore, cannibalism, PTSD.
Slither - James Gunn’s 2006 Feature Movie Directorial Debut! He wrote it, too. An homage to B-movie gore flicks like you’d see at the drive-in. I am just copying and pasting the IMDB summary ‘cause I love this movie too much to be concise about it: A small town is taken over by an alien plague, turning residents into zombies and all forms of mutant monsters. (Oh, but don’t forget the nasty, slithery blood worm things!) CONTENT WARNINGS: Nasty, slithery blood worm things. GORE, BLOOD, GORE, GORE. A very uncomfortable sex scene. Michael Rooker.
They’re Watching - An American TV crew filming what is essentially “House Hunters: Eastern Europe” stumble into superstitions, folklore, and... TERROR!! MWAHAHAHAHA. No, seriously, I LOVE how it’s basically “What if some HGTV crew wound up waaaaaaaay in over their heads, in a horrible and bloody way?” CONTENT WARNINGS: Blood, gore, and NO WI-FI.
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U said to talk to u about ur AUs so here I come! Let’s do some more world building yeah? *cracks knuckles* I hope you don’t mind the up-coming long but very incoherent and messy rant about the WITCH!AU because I have MANY thoughts so let’s chat?! :DDD My Halloween loving ass is fucking living right now oh yeah.
World building ??? 👀👀👀
Why did they get rid of my Read Mores on Asks???? Anyway, buckle in y’all long post ahead.
🌠🌠🌠 (01) What if Brian’s presence somehow enhances one’s powers? That’s why he’s always being chased by spirits or other beings and bad witches want him for this and when they can’t have him they want to kill him? (you’d appreciated the extra layer of angst? XD Like do you want me because you truly love me or do you want me because of my Gift that would greatly benefit your own power)
That could potentially be a result because witches that work with spirits because they’re opening up liminal spaces. Not that Brian is aware of it, and is doing it mostly incidentally which is how some nastier spirits get attatched to him and cause some of Brian’s problems.
He does have that moment once or twice, once he figures out how all of this workes.
(02) What hex or spell do you think the witch (or the evil coven? For dramatic movie rivalry effect between sides LOL) cast to kill him? Something related to the hepatitis and ulcer? Disease or other stuffs? (I can’t help but think about the CW TV Series Supernatural witches have so many creative ways of killing someone through hexes, spells and curses)
So I don’t have any names yet, because I am Bad at them. The curse that I currently have in mind is that it’s kind of a paralyzation hex? Like when Brian gets hit with it, it moves more central, so he looses the ability to move and then eventually the ability to speak and eventually breathe.
(03) Imagine how distressed Brian would be because he loves Astronomy and stargazing but during night is always the most dangerous to him? However after meeting the other three they’re always with him (or at least one of them) especially at night? Dragging him out for drinks and all the other fun stuffs that Brian seems to be missing out on. (Freddie will ruffle his hair playfully saying something like you’re safe with us darling we’ll look after you and wink at him but he figures they just want to see him blush so yeah all the usual good old oblivious Brian trope LOL)
Bless oblivious Brian. The insomnia as a kid is what half inspired him to love the stars, because that’s all he’d have to stare at during those long nights. It’s also when those Things He Doesn’t See (his mother’s words) circle around him.
The other three naturally realize what Night means, and how it can affect an untrained Witch especially one that has a Gift like Brian’s. Roger is the one that tends to keep near Brian during the night because he’s simply the best at unnoticable protection charms. And he usually makes a big show of getting into disagreements when he senses that something is Wrong. Because Brian suddenly has a mood drop or John actually feels some kind of spirit (which tend to stay away from him because the dead can’t cross running water).
(04) I imagine the three sometimes turn themselves into animals like cats (witches are so often associated with cats and ravens etc. you know all that) to keep Brian company and to warn off evil beings around him like he’s ours back the fuck off?
Close! They actually use their familiars! Roger’s and Freddie’s are both cats (Roger’s is a maine coon, and Freddie’s is a very sleek looking calico), and Brian usually has to pick them up and put them in the house because “no, kitty, you can’t go to class with me!”
Meanwhile they’re like “dude.”
John’s is usually the one that keeps the best eye on Brian given that it’s a kestrel. She also isn’t fond of Brian because he keeps closing her window! How dare he!
John hasn’t quite managed to convinence her that it’s on accident because Brian doesn’t feel that she’s just not another Bird.
(05) Maybe one night Brian’s having “sleep paralysis” only this time the pressure gets heavier and heavier and help now he can’t breath and he’s panicking but can’t do a thing can’t move a muscle when suddenly he heard a low but cold voice speaking some language (Latin? But not quite there’s an extra edge to it) beside his bed but he can’t understand a word and the pressure just vanished like that. He whines low in his throat and struggles to move and tries to open his eyes but he’s suddenly very groggy and tired and then he felt gentle hands caressing his face and carding through his hair effectively soothing him and the voice is now crooning sweetly, calming him by saying things like you’re safe love sleep now and when he’s about to fall asleep the hands left that’s when he heard at least three different voices conversing with each other outside maybe? One sound worried, one sound furious and the last one seems to be thinking about something but they’re all speaking in some kind of language that he doesn’t understand.
Okay, I dig, I see what you’re doing here nonnie. 
So this is probably when Roger, John, and Freddie kind of figure out there’s something out there trying to get Brian because Drudes (nightmare demons from Germanic folklore) don’t just take a walk about on the prime material plane. Much less someone who isn’t having a nightmare.
Roger is furious, because after chasing the damned Drude away he checked his seals and found that his demonic protection one has been inverted and draws demons to them. He’s screaming his head off, because he doesn’t know why or how some one would know.
Freddie is just worried because Brian hadn’t reacted to it the way anyone else should have. Almost like he accepted that this was a thing that happened and not a literal demon eating his life force.
John is trying to figure out how the Drude got in on the first place, after Roger found out the seal, and why it would come for Brian directly. Freddie’s got the most “magic” out of the four of them, Brian’s being so tightly wrapped away. Maybe Brian is just awakening his powers and because of his Gift the Drude noticed. But Roger is right, Drudes don’t just come on this plane without cause.
Meanwhile, Brian is out cold/out of it for the next 16 hours because the Drude did get a good grip on Bri’s life force before the other three noticed. Which naturally makes the others clingy for like the next month. Roger keeps forcing his weird wood crafting hobbies into Brian’s bag, and John is always hanging around the physics building and Freddie is painting a really weird thing on the wall. Which kind of makes them look like satanists.
(06) Following no. (05) do you think witches have their own languages akin to Latin but maybe they’re some kind of variation? Also will there be different dialects based on uses, regions and powers?
They all have different casting languages, yes! Most are based on latin, while eastern witches tend to stick with very old forms of their countries languages (e.g chinese with china, Hindi). Some are actually symbol based, which Freddie is very adept at because it gives the most versatility.
(07) And you know like in horror movies how people are with Ouija boards and summoning rituals? Brian of course never participates he avoids most supernatural related stuffs like plague but maybe growing up his encounters people who do those type of stuff for fun and he’s kind hearted not wanting them to be in danger so he’d try to dissuade or stop them but once the spirits or evil beings were conjured the beings always go for Brian? The most severe incident is the Bloody Mary one she appears in mirrors and Brian almost got pulled in trying to save his classmate but eventually he was saved by another witch?
Brian grows up not believing in ghosts, but he can’t deny that’s weird that things happen every time they do mess with Oujia boards. The Bloody Mary thing left him with a permanent inability to walk through hallways in the dark. But he does have the scar on his arm from when whatever it was tried to pull him through the mirror. It was weird. He thinks his friend’s mom stopped it because she game them a really long lecture while bandaging Brian’s arm.
(08) Following no. (07) that’s where my this idea came from: do you think maybe one of Freddie, Roger or John’s family member saved Brian before (when he was a kid? A teenager?) although Brian doesn’t know it? (perhaps he’s passed out during that? Roger and John’s family are more likely to do so simply because of geographic wise?) And that elder witch recognized that Brian belongs in the coven with Freddie, Roger and John so he/she/they got home, told them about this very special boy (girl? person?) that they have to protect one day and proceed to spend years arranging for them to “casually” meet and hopefully become friends or even more?
Never considered this... but this is strangely in line with what kind of Gift I have planned for John.
It would be John’s mom that steps in. Brian accidentally invokes a vengeful spirit while playing in the park. It knocks him into a tree before she can get to him. She quickly banishes it before going over to Brian. Her hands push back his hair, checking his head (only a tiny little bump thankfully) when she feels her son? of all people on his skin. She knows John is a very strong Sympathic but for him to be on someone’s he’s never met.
And for this boy to attract such powerful spirits but existing? He didn’t even know what it was?
Well, she’s never been one to question the whims of the earth. Instead she tosses her hair back and starts yelling for someone to help. Ruth comes over quickly, and Mrs. Deacon explains that Brian fell from the tree. There’s no magic coming from Ruth, not like Brian.
Oh boy, she thinks. This is trouble.
When she goes home John is teasing Julie with a rattle. She picks him up and she bounces him on her hip, “I’ve met a special boy, one you’re going to have to protect and teach.”
(09) I imagine that the other three were waiting for the right time to reveal the truth to Brian while shielding him from not just the spirits or demons’ harm but from evil witch covens as well and maybe one day they just had a very unfortunate run in with some elders who harbor malicious agenda - news travels fast? Very soon EVERYONE and every beings that has connection to the Supernatural world KNOWS (except Brian ofc lol) hence the even more aggressive and violent attacks and the other three were constantly on high alert around Brian (while having to act casually it’s hard work really).
They were trying to find the right time, and there’s never a good time to go “so the dead like you because you’re a good transfer spot between worlds oh and the rest of the supernatural kind of hates you or wants to use you because of that.”
Brian finds out about this entire thing when the witch hits him with paralyzation curse. Well just before it because she basically does the villian info dump.
But just before that, when the attacks were ramping up, the others took turns being on Brian watch, cutting their nights short, sleeping in shifts, etc. Roger is literally running out of grimories to look for seals and protection spells. John has to pratically spell a moat into existence around their flat and even Freddie can’t find something to shield Brian’s presence without hampering his magical awakening. 
They’re all getting exhausted, Brian thinks it’s just stress of recording their first album and school work. Except he’s getting a little stir crazy, he’s literally not had a moment alone since the Drude attack (not that he knows it). So when all three of them invietably crash (between the shortened hours and magic drain it says a lot that they went as long as the did). Brian sneaks out.
I don’t think I have to explain what happens?
(10) Haha I like the idea of Freddie being the wild card in every sense especially when it comes to witchcraft obviously considering his cultural heritage is different from the ones in England so he/she/they dresses differently and casts his/her/their magic differently and it infuriates their opponent so fucking much. XD
Freddie uses a hand gesture, the other witch ????? what in the literal fuck? It bothers Roger too because he’s like, this isn’t going to work *spell works* HOW? WHY? 
John actually starts mimicking Freddie’s way of performing spells and his spells get that much more powerful and chaotic.
(11) Sammy I love you. <3333 *blows you kisses*
❤❤❤❤ Thank you for letting me ramble about things!!!
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adventurousaries · 7 years
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My tale of School days, A Flashback
Yes, Its about a girl who stumbled with her studies and her gang of friends who tolerated her like no one in the universe can do.
With no idea of which school I am gonna get in after my 8th Std, my mom chose the best one for me as she always do. Next comes a very dangerous part “The entrance Exam”. “Oh man, how can you just be so dumb Sneha” my mom blasted after realizing that in the battle between me and math, I won. Yes, I was very poor in math as well as Hindi. But somehow I cleared my entrance. With my newly stitched uniform and with so much of anxiety to meet new people I stepped into my school. I asked the way to my classroom to a tall gigantic dumb guy who ran away without any response. With all mixed emotions somehow I reached my classroom, found a place that suits my height and got settled. All were starring at the new joiners as if we were from some mafia group. There comes an announcement from our teacher with a very firm voice “Get ready for the assembly students”. Standing in a height order myself at the last as always, we headed towards our ground. There I slowly started to talk with my girl classmate who was also a new joiner and who was also as dumb as me. Our craziness and mischievousness comes out only when you are in a right company and I found the one right on the first day in the assembly. We ragged a guy who was standing next to us saying there is something on his head. But there was no reaction at all. Then we asked another girl who was not a new joiner that what’s wrong with all these psychic guys in this school, and her reply made our eyeballs bulge out. “We are not allowed to talk to boys” that was the line kept on echoing throughout the day. Days passed by and I became friends with everyone. But, the girl’s mindset is that even if she gets millions of friends there will be only somebody with whom she gets heart level attachment. As said, we were a gang of three. We were like very thick friends that alI other girls were jealous on us. We used to roam every single street in our area. Since we were very beautiful too we had many fan followings. Haha, I still remember a postman following us for months and he ran away when we threw stones and slippers. If two girls are besties then they will gossip about the entire world, but if that’s a gang of three, then the two will gossip only about the third one. Likely, we had a one who just irritate us with her endless dramas. But we loved her so much that only because of that crazy idiotic buffoon we both had become close. The most wanted girls were both of us that every teacher wanted to change our seating. She went to the third bench and mine at the last. Words cannot explain seeing our friend getting close with her neighbour girl in class. That too I was literally planning to create some mess between both that she comes back to me. But myself being a chatter box got close with my benchmates too. We were excel in all activities except studies, that we used to roam all the streets after school hours, get an old tape recorder, find a friend’s house whose parents can tolerate us, dance like a mentally retarded goose for mass hit Tamil kuthu songs. Our craziness over dance and acting skills made us to dance for a famous dance company for a mass number song. A lady from the audience was cheering us too hard and she completely enjoyed our group dance. She personally called me and appreciated for my makeover ,costume and dancing style. That was the first appreciation I had got and that made me completely fall for her and admire her that what even a small appreciation can make someone’s day. My school always had stringent rules which not only students should adhere to but parents should also follow. If a parent could not attend a so called PTA meeting then the student will not be able to attend the next day class. As a punishment, parent should take their children with them to the school with an apology letter and need to wait for the principal for accepting the apology for the whole day. If they attend the meeting also, they will not be allowed to get outside in the middle. But, my gang was the only gang who completely enjoyed, never bothered about the rules, happily enjoying the punishments, thoroughly enjoying when our bestie gets caught because of us, standup on the bench moments, fighting for one tiffin box, happiness in untieing our friends hair ribbon, roaming each and every street in our half broken cycle after school , that running moment when our teacher finds us roaming after school hours, cutting cream buns for birthdays due to budget problems, soups and chats during night class, getting caught and having extreme fun while principal starts scolding us, chemistry and physics teacher’s atrocities, doing every wrong things correctly and not having any regrets about it. The most precious thing that a school can gift its students is arranging for a tour outside that too for a gang like us. With a luggage full of snacks, sweaters and music systems we headed towards kodaikanal. More than the place we are going, the company with whom we are going really matters and because of not having such good company many did not make it for the tour. It started off with a huge scream of heyyyy the moment our bus stepped out of school. Immediately turned on the audio system in the bus, danced as if that is going to be our last day on the earth. It was like a minute we started to dance but we reached the railway station so soon. Those times we spent by doing non-stop gossip about every girl and boy in our school, imitating our friend’s mannerisms, taking crazy pictures which is even more crazy when we watch those pictures now. After reaching madurai, we were literally praying god that our gang must get a separate room and not even a single teacher should share our room, and luckily god heard our prayers and we got a very big luxurious room unlike others who need to stay with teachers that too only 4 can stay in a room. We ten crazy cartoon characters started off the nightstay like, 2 were busy in choosing what night dress to wear, 4 were fighting for one chips packet, 3 fighting for one remote controller and one crazy dumb jumping and bumping on all of us. After finishing off our dinner,with lights off, TV been switched off, all together on the bed, one’s leg on other one’s shoulder,one’s head on another other one’s thighs, we started off with all the ghost stories we knew. All at the peak of scariness we heard someone’s sound inside the room and we are all holding everyone very tightly and didn’t even move a inch, after sometime only we noticed that it was a heavy snoring sound of a mentally retarded species in our gang. We broke into laughter and continued to talk and talk and talk that it became 5 am in the morning suddenly when the same mentally retarded species phone alarmed not more louder than her snoring sound, but nothing made her to move even a little bit from her posture. The completely irritated us, kept on the mobile phone inside her ears immediately when she kicked me like an ass that I started to roll on the bed, suddenly my gigantic well built friend lying on the other side of the bed stopped me from falling down. Everyone were laughing like a hell that even our intestines would have come out if it had continued for some more minutes. Those fights on who has to take bath firstly so that others can sleep for sometime, again fighting for the remote,fight for hairclips, combs and kajals, where some silently went to the terrace and finished off their breakfast and started bullying others. We started off to a temple in madurai and by afternoon we headed towards kodaikanal, where none of us had a drop of energy to even speak because of the last night tragedy. All of us had a very tight sleep during the journey, and suddenly the temperature became so cold, which we were not able to withstand. Slowly we started off our mischievousness by kicking everybody hardly as we were not able to withstand the cold temperature. We had a very good sightseeing at kodaikanal and returned chennai completely drained off. The first week in school after tour, we spoke about the fun and comedy scenes that happened in our tour. Slowly days passed and we were sitting on the last day of our board exams. So much of prayers, so much of sadness on everyone’s heart completely filled with silence, tears rolling down when we hardly tried to study, all those memories flashing like a dream and it finally broke down when one started to cry out. Everyone were trying to console each other, wiping out their own tears. So many hugs and kisses, those pinky promises we made that we will be together forever, exchanging cards, gifts, letters and scrapbooks. We completed our exams, and with a very heavy heart we bid last good byes to some of our class mates, teachers, the last time view of our school, we left home without able to control our tears. Though we met during our annual holidays, those times in the school cannot be replaced at all. Those times when our friend calls us to accompany her to the loo, that moment when our friend sings like a crap with us during boring lectures, the way we play hand cricket wrongly every time, the way we used to eat all the time during night class, those times we wantedly delay inside the loo knowing that our friend is waiting outside for her turn, that moment when our friend asks for an extra paper during exam where we wouldn’t have completed the main sheet itself, that moment when we will be caught because of some idiotic fellow, those days when our bestie consoles us with a hug and a letter after a fight, those prank calls we make to irritate our friend, the hard times that would easily fly when we lye on our friend’s lap, the happiness we get when our friend shares her shoulders which even a million dollar salary can’t bring, the peace in our inner heart when we feel their presence, cannot be expressed out in words. Six years passed, we are still the same, and we all love each other for no reason and we are still ready to do anything for the other. Though we are all far apart just in distance, half of my heart always beats with you all and this distance taught me how much we are ready to do anything for the other.
This is my first blog in tumblr, and kind apologies if I had bored you all with my storyline.
-Sneha VJ 16/01/17
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akira-seijuro · 4 years
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THE WAY THE MAN LOVED HER AND THE WAY HE DIDN’T - An Eulogy to my Dad
Okay, fine Don’t make fun of my Instagram handle now, because Akira Seijuro means the one who shines the light on the empire when it’s in absolute darkness. I had to choose this because I wanted to re-invent myself without being names by the chromosomes of my parents when I have decided to detach myself from everything that defines me when I didn’t choose it.
This is a eulogy for my dad. I have been meaning to write it, say it for months, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I thought it would be something that describes the relationship between my dad and me and how perfect it was at times when it was backward a bit. But it wasn’t, it isn’t. I was sometimes people wished ‘the daughter he never had.’ I still am I guess. The only person who could account for it, well, he is not coming back any time soon, let’s face it, there is no afterlife. A few days ago, I have realized this, when the person is about to take his/her last breath, whether or not he gave up on life or whether it was a life that had given up on himself/herself, what would they say? Whom would they think about? My father, unfortunately, has a very unexisting parents and sisters, in terms of parenthood and support, so when he was in pain, where people would normally say ‘amma,’ ‘ma,’ ‘abba’ because that’s the first love any language ever teaches you or shows you and is irrespective of the place, my father chose to say ‘bhavya.’ So he chanted my name thinking it would give him the strength to bear and to not give up. The emergency ward as I say was filled with him screaming my name in love as my mother told me. My mother and I did all that we could to survive ourselves, trying to equip ourselves with an invisible pain that was frowned upon. We loved him, we did. We still do. Most of the times, we keep talking about our dad, my mom used to call him bhavya’s pithaji, haha, very funny for a girl who doesn’t get herself to speak Hindi; so our dad, he is still spoken of the things in the present tense. Happens you know, oh no you may not, sometime you will. I was so possessive about my dad’s love, that I came first all the time just like he showed me from the day I was born. I wasn’t willing to believe and accept that there was someone my dad loved beyond his love for me. How could I not see it all these days? My mother. I thought he gave up all his cryptologist’s side, programming degrees to provide a stable living for us both, for me, all from scratch. But then he actually gave everything up the moment he decided to love my mother forever, the moment he saw her. Yup, love at first site boss. Very hard. I must say, dad, you did it where I failed. Not just the fucking computer science which I hate and which you apparently ‘enigmated’ easily (fun fact: he was qualified enough to teach processing systems and cryptology meaning he studied the function of enigma machine and intel systems back in 1980s.). So that and first love, both where I not literally and literally failed respectively. My mom also loved him, ahem, she still does in that conservative, traditional sorts of silent ways i.e. in an unexpressive responsible way. I remember taking up a wooden scale and trying to beat up my dad when he was trying to kiss her when she was trying to relax after teaching me alphabets and playing with me. Fun a 2 ft girl was controlling her 5ft 8in Dad.  I was the apple of his eye, but my mom, dude she was his circulatory system. So, when he saw me as the last person to ever see him alive, he became all ‘dadly’ and said ‘don’t worry 500ml water’s been out from lungs, get the nurse to take my mask off to talk to you’ and there were all male nurses and I didn’t know what to call them, my brain just and it was like, should I call them brother? Because females are sisters? I was STFU brain, STFU and no words were coming out of my mouth, I approached the male nurse to finally blurt out ‘excuse me’ in an ICU filled with children that were fated to die in the next 2,3 days. But then the nurse saw and I still couldn’t speak, I was speaking in sign language pointing towards my dad on bed no.5, which happens to be the number of my mom’s birthday, and my dad took care of himself and asked the nurse to take it off and that he is fine and wants to speak to me. Well, then my dad said, ‘come to the left side, 500, no 600ml water has been taken out from my lungs and I am now able to breathe and I am fine. Don’t cry.’ Bitch did not even say my name. I know my dad and I share a peculiar relationship when it comes to swearings, we don’t mind. Too cool for his age. Anyway, then went on saying ‘Don’t ever leave mom alone. Be with her. And call her in.’ The stupid security did not let my mom in as it was not visiting hours and they already sent me in as if they knew it would be my last hearing of his words. I told my dad they weren’t letting very slowly as if I just started speaking and he said ‘Okay, don’t cry. Take care. Draw cash out from the atm.’ Those were his last words and not once he mentioned me. It was as if he knew that I would kickass, be it funeral or work or life. I was like, okay, Damn dude, I am the dad now. Let’s see. The next morning, he was unconscious when I visited him, his eyes were almost closed, but I saw a teardrop and I asked the nurse to wipe it. ‘He should never cry, make sure of that please, no matter which state he would be in’ I said and I knew it’s coming now today or the next day. I did not cry, I came out, met my dad’s colleagues and made a plan to take his body in flight. I already spoke to the flight guy, thanks to google, told my office and his office people and then I made a plan as to how to proceed with the formalities. I did not have any expectations when it came to rituals, because I wanted my dad to be buried and to plant a tree. But I know it’s not possible for my strength to fight off almost a hundred plus people. So I gave up. And focused on getting my mom to be safe and off all these stupid things. I went home, did some shopping as I didn’t get any clothes because I refused to think that my dad was not playing a game this time. So, yup I went to my home, took my scooty off, kick-started it just how my dad taught me, went to lifestyle, shopped and bank, drew cash, then went home and packed for my mom and I for almost 10 days, got a pair for my dad and booked a cab back to hospital. Then, of course, no plan that is ever planned has gone according to the plan. It went sideways, hmph, I should say tangential ways, you all stupid math geniuses. Then he died. I called my friend, a dear one and he came in 20min, his best friend came and we were off to Kakinada in the ambulance and I was trying to protect my mom from a loafer. He was in a box dude. In a steel cold box. I could hear his body going up and down at the bounces along the road. I already felt the atrocity of the conservative traditions when the first ambulance driver refused to take his body into his van as it was Ramzan. I shouted in silence hoping my dad’s abdomen would go up and down like how I used to once watch when he was alive, just to make sure that he was alive. We reached Kakinada. Once he was taken off,  I planned about how to proceed, to keep my mom under her parents and sisters care for a few months to find a house because she never lived alone and me going to the office would be not right at that point of time. Go to his office, contact HR about the provident and gratuity and then proceed to bank formalities and the LIC stuff, all his work counterparts of departure. I did not cry but I saw everyone crying and I thought, okay, people normally would think I would cry my eyes out because I am sweet and sensitive and naïve. I was like dude it was just a dead body, my dad died yesterday itself. I actually said those words that seemed cold immediately after his death. It was nothing with the thought of what we call life; it was just a body that cannot even be used to transplantation because of cancer. I’m so sorry to say this but I am obsessed with cancer and I want to know everything there is to know to be found about it. Such a tiny, not meant to be blended cell. I saw a man who became from the healthiest and strongest being, transformed into a being of the suffering, diminishing every single second as I breathed and who turned to nothing, but eyes and jaw wide opened, pupils, dilated and dead. And nothing could bring any part of his life back. I knew life was meaningless, people want to love and happiness, but they can absolutely live without love, care, happiness. But people are annihilated because of pain my friend, whether physical  or torture. True, all the medals, patents, money, family, the name could make life accountable, but none of it actually makes it worthwhile. A friend of mine, I believe I can say friend now, he asked to read Leo Tolstoy’s ‘A confession’ and I did. I knew life is meaningless, no amount of power, success could define the purpose of life. It just is. There is no purpose, but there is one thing that I can say. I had everything, I felt nothing, I had nothing and I still felt nothing in terms of winning. Even now, doing marvelously at work feels nothing, not because I don’t value it enough but because it doesn’t have any in the end. But if I can support too, the share is a big word, it is worthless, so if I could support a person to be able to just be there with his/her own pain, I thought it’s livable their life. All these years, I was doing that making my life livable, and for others too. No goal can ever make you survive. Only death does. Yes I wanted to end my life and I tired but I could have succeeded at it if I took rather messy options but I didn’t because they inflict a lot of physical pain. I didn’t care about my body, but my body did feel the pain, physical and mental too, I can’t describe it, sorry. I have no words or form for it yet. So, pain is very real and very implicate and unbearable even to end in a few ways. I see humans as a bunch of tiny cells that happened to form to communicate with each other as lumps. Who knows? We think we are clever, but the millions of bacteria around us do something that we don’t know every day in their minuscule quantum systems. We’re the size of bacteria is this whole universe. Who cares about the beginning of the end? At last, it is all just is. Existing. That’s it. A medium that doesn’t have a beginning and an end and we are floating apart or alone or together creating our own theories. But pain is very real. And that’s the only reason why I respect or consider only the ones that I think knew this pain as real deals.
We’re drifting from the title now, I’m going to save it for a whole new going to be an unlistened podcast. My dad sacrificed everything he thinks he has for my mother and me and created his own everything his way. He loved her, but he never told her. He was proud of her upbringing, but he never appreciated it enough. He valued her sacrifice of a government job back then when she was earning more than him when he asked her ‘come live with me and transfer’s going to take too long, take our daughter come and live with me, let’s be together at one place, every second that there is and that is to come,’ which she did, but he never showed that gratitude. He always asked her if she had dinner whenever he went away to some parties, but never tried to enter the kitchen. He never made her feel lonely, but he didn’t make sure that their daughter did not see it that way. He lived till his last moment to fight to live with her and his daughter but he never asked how they were living. He tried not to fight with her in front of his little girl, but then he kept all of it to himself. He saw himself as a man when he didn’t need anyone, but when he did, he saw her as a mother he never had. He loved his little girl, but he never told her about the greatest love of his life, he had the fortune of sharing his life with for 24 years. He brought his daughter like a real human, to face any brink of adversity, but failed to think that she doesn’t need a man until he saw his last moments with her. My mom fulfilled her emptiness with the love between my father and I and the love and care she had towards me, but I must say, I cannot see my mother away from us, my dad, I wish he was okay with being sensitive even when there were no needles around, I wish he was okay with being pointed for wrong, when my mother was right, I wish he let her be braver and he himself be brave to tell her that he loved her. So, mom, I am telling you today, you were the best thing that ever happened to dad, not me, you were his circulatory system, a part of him that he could never live with, and now he is gone, and you are with me, I am not telling you I’ll be you perfect daughter, by marrying and settling off with a guy and 2 kids. If I am going to have it, I will have it my way, where I need not prepare myself a lot to tell my husband, Genius jerk, I love you but to get there, I must make myself sufficient first and to that to happen, sorry your daughter is very unique. She wants to be all kinds of awesome things. So it will take time, for her to be sufficient. I am going to do an M.Tech and MBA, if people want to stay, they will otherwise they won’t. But if they do, I am never going to stop telling them I love them, even though I am at the peak of my dissociative behavior now. I went straight from a person who loved many who doesn’t love any. But my dad taught me humanity, above all, that people who are not blood-related, can be your mother, can be your father (he had a father figure, Rama Rao sir who helped him a lot, for whose demise he shed tears, that I saw from my father’s eyes for the first time in my life), can be your brother (like once upon a time like Joseph Uncle), can be anything that could lift you up and all because they loved and cared, on the other hand, he also taught me that blood relations can mean to nothing like my paternal family. I love you, dad, you are the man who loved my mom the most, the man who taught me to be myself and not anyone else, you taught me, love, you gave me pain everywhere, but most of all, you let me sleep on your lap every night before going to bed and wrapped your warm arms on my winter solstice birthday, you celebrated me and I will miss being a celebrity. I am sure my mom is also missing me being a celebrity in her own palace. Love, the Akira who’d always step into the obsolete dark, lights it up and goes into the darkness. I will always remember to appreciate love, at the same time not choke it and to help ease the pain in ways we could. Don’t worry I already got my own version of absolutely stunning brother with the amazing heart and strength that is unknown to him, Akshay, 9 days elder to me and friends for a lifetime, though I am helpless now, I’d want him to be by my side when I die and I’ll die before him and don’t ask me how. Friends for a lifetime,  Gowtami, Chandana and Sneha too. Also, the responsible badass brother Prateek Bokade. I even have a person to look up to, Harsha Kuntur, a climate activist and awesome entrepreneur. I wish I knew the other Harsha too, but it seems he is also a kind soul that helps others build a life in his own way so we speak,  I love my maternal family, not all, just my mom’s parents, sisters and their respective sons, husbands. That’s enough blood relation and of course, the ones who show me, love, at times most needed, Bhavana and Pratishtha without any pre-requisites. I am making more acquaintances. I still do love one guy, but I sort of erm, not focused on that as loving is in my hands, but reciprocation is not. So, dad, he is a friend of mine, for now, just a bit more than a stranger, erm, I fell during my denial, so, couldn’t actually rot away like I did with the first one-sided one, and I guess that’s ok. So, let's see. You rock on and thanks for introducing me to Michael Jackson and Kraftwerk, I knew you would have Taylor swift because she is a feminist and she is strong, but dammit, I love her way too much! Let's see if my life turns out to be on lines of Keanu Reeves or Taylor Swift. But I’ll give up sometimes, quit on things and people like did, but I won’t step back when it’s dark. Thanks for all the courage in the genes' love. I don’t think this is goodbye. So I’m done, I love you, bubyeee for now. I chose the title because it showed that he never knew how, he just went with what he knew he can, but forgot what he was capable of when it comes to love. A brave step aside from the self and ego would have created an entirely different timeline and then maybe I wouldn’t be here saying this. I hope it is not too late for any generation of its kind.
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