#unless my exaggerations hold truth I don’t know about

[caffeiiine]

it will all be very rewarding in the end I say through gritted teeth

#Your girl is storyboardinh #Still. #but then again I did pick the project back up after like two months and I was still storyboarding then #It’ll be worth it and I’ll be done soon #Hopefully #unless my exaggerations hold truth I don’t know about #sodaramblestoomuch

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Country Boy

Phillip Graves x f!reader

PART ONE!

Summary : it’s been 10 years since you packed up and left your small town for greener pastures, but after recklessly deciding to come back after so long you’re reunited with the former love of your life - Phillip Graves

Word count : 3.4k

A/N : as metroman would say, ‘my death was highly exaggerated’. Sorry for taking so long to put something out but hope that everyone enjoys! Yearning part 3 is also in the works <3

“One day, when we’re out of here - just you and me - I’m gonna ask you out real nice, darlin’.”

It’s August, 1994, nearing the end of high school. It’s a humid Friday evening and the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock that only the town fisherman knows about. But he’s not here tonight.

You chuckle at him, “Thought you said you’d never consider leaving, Phil.”

He’s got that dorky grin plastered on his face, his dimples visible.

“If it were with you, I’d leave in a heartbeat.”

“I knew you’d say that!” You hit his shoulder playfully and he can only laugh.

It’s your usual thing; sitting together on the docks after school until late as possible. As late as it can get before your papa considers reaching for his rifle to find the troublemaker keeping his daughter out till ‘God knows when’ as he said. So you cherish these childish yet heartfelt moments, even if you’re both 17 and have big lives far ahead of you.

“What? It’s the truth, hon.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

“I wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. I’m not the kind of girl you lie to, Phillip Graves.”

“So does that mean you would?”

“I would what exactly?” You cock an eyebrow at him, expecting a dirty joke of some sort.

“You know.. go out with me. Real fancy, too. I’ll dress up and everything, just for you.” He adds, his hand now reaching for your face.

Your breath hitches at the way his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You stole your mother’s lipstick for moments like these. Leaving that little red stained mark on him.

He withdraws his thumb slowly, squinting in the dark. You could see the way his smile grew as he examined the smudged rouge on his fingertip.

“That’s pretty, darlin’. That for me?”

What comes out of your mouth is a whisper and you couldn’t explain why; maybe it was the glint in his eyes as he said it, the way his lips were parted slightly as he looked back up at you from his hand.

“Yes.. Yes.” You swallow thickly, your gaze fixated on him and what he could do next.

“Really? Well, I think that answers my other question then.” He’s beginning to get up now and your eyes widen as you frantically get on your feet to follow him.

“What does that mean?”

He stops in his tracks, turning to face you again. He’s still smiling but his arm is now concealed behind his back.

“It means that I know it’s the right time to give you this.”

It’s a small box.

You approach him slowly, your bare feet not making a sound on the wooden boards of the dock. Once you’re finally inches away from him, he flicks it open.

A ring. A beautiful ring is now before your eyes; a small, golden ring with a big, shining gem in the centre.

You could cry, and you almost do as you let out a choked sob but Phillip quickly wraps his arms around you.

“Don’t- don’t cry, sugar.. unless they’re happy tears, I hope.” He murmurs into your ear, hand caressing your back gently.

“They’re happy. They’re so… so happy, I swear.” You catch yourself between your gasps for air.

He waits a moment, taking the time to memorise the way your bodies align. How perfectly they fit into each other. But when he pulls away, a hand comes up again to wipe your tears.

“I just thought… even if- you know, you go to do the amazing things that you’re meant to and I end up staying here or there… That I’ll always be with you. Just a little part of me you can carry around forever. Now, why don’t you try it on and see if I got the measurements right, okay?” He prompts carefully, allowing you to hold out a shaky hand as he slots it into your finger.

“It fits like a glove, Phil. I can’t believe you did this..”, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the only girl I’ve ever want to cherish like this.” As he brings his finger away from your cheek, he leans in.

You share a kiss that you could’ve never imagined happening with any boy in that wretched town.

Except, Phillip Graves was the only thing that made staying there worth it.

-

You must have been daydreaming again, playing with the ring still on your finger after all these years.

You run a completely different ship now; miles away in the city, married and thriving.

You would’ve never believed your future turned out like this. Not without Phillip.

A business all to yourself and your husband, and hopefully for your future kids too. A display of pride and joy that you’ve managed to work for and build with your own hands.

You attempt to direct your focus to the ring that your husband gave you instead. It’s silver and covered in small little gems, always sparkling in some way. A way to represent how your husband’s love seems to be only visible in objects. How they won’t stop pestering you at this rate.

Five years have gone by since this much flashier ring was presented to you on your summer vacation.

And now you’re here - surrounded by bustling trains, people and business that you can’t seem to escape.

The rush of the city never seems to alleviate, even if you’re a day away from your vacation that you’ve been planning for weeks now.

No husband. No business or constant phone calls. Just you and the countryside.

Obviously, you weren’t entirely sure on the idea of going back there. Not after that charming rascal Phillip Graves.

But your ma and pa kept calling which made you realise you just needed a break from the city. You needed the hot, dry days and cool, breezy evenings back at the family house. When your pa used to come back after work almost covered in sweat and you’d still run up to him and hug him like he’d just come back from war. The fresh pies you’d try to eat even when they were too hot and you still kept the piece in your mouth because you were so hungry. Those foolish nights when Phillip would knock on your window after hours and you’d sneak out to the wildest places imaginable - it was all such a daydream that you never would’ve wanted to leave.

But, this is where you are now.

You place your coffee cup down a little suddenly onto your desk, raking a hand through your hair.

“Louis? Louis, honey?” You get up and charge out of your office, looking both ways down the hall.

“Louis?” You repeat, calling out to him.

“Yes, baby?” He’s walking towards you at a leisurely pace, phone pressed up against his ear as he lowers his voice to talk to you.

“Do you uhm.. need me here right now?” You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for an answer - a finger held up to your face.

Wait.

Your whole face seems to scrunch at the sight of it, frowning as he laughs and smiles at his phone.

“Right- yeah, I’ll call you back. No, it won’t be long.” He ends the call, putting his brick phone into his suit pocket.

“What’s up?”

“I said, do you need me to be here?”

“Well, it’s nice to have you around. Always helpful to have a spare hand.”

“Yeah, I understand. But-“

“Is it about your trip? You’re not going?”

You sigh.

“No, I am going still. I just want to get ready now since it’s going to be a long drive and I don’t want to waste time tomorrow.”

“If you say so. But what if I need you here right now? You’re going to be too busy packing for the hillbilly hellhole.”

Okay, your marriage isn’t the most functional. Or romantic.

Louis isn’t horrible - just a little less emotional than you would’ve hoped. Maybe even a little manipulative. But who’s psychoanalysing that, because it’s definitely not you.

It’s very obvious that you’re the only one that notices this behaviour.

You try not to dwell and take another deep breath.

“Well, my parents live in that ‘hillbilly hellhole’ and I’d like to pack all my extra things so I will be going now.”

“Alright, if you say so.” He waves a hand carelessly at you. Dismissing you.

You don’t say anything back, you can only bite your tongue and grip your suitcase handle like it’s about to fall off.

It was never this bad at the beginning, but that’s what they always say, isn’t it?

Recently, he’s just been so out of touch with you and your love life but you don’t even want to know why. It could probably break you, or worse.

So now, here you are, packing frantically for that ‘hillbilly hellhole’ that you call home. You don’t even know why you’re so excited, the items seem to fly into your suitcase as you run around the house to grab anything else you might need. Even if the majority of it is still in your old room, waiting for you expectantly.

That morning felt like the beginning of something big.

Getting up at the crack of dawn, brushing your teeth and getting ready for a holiday that you’ll never forget.

Jumping into that car felt like a breath of fresh air as you rolled down your window hastily, not bothering to bid goodbye since you’re too busy hitting the road.

It’s a nice feeling; being able to have your music turned up as loud as you like as you get to look out for all the wonderful sights to see on the journey. It’s a sense of accomplishment, that’s what you declare to yourself as you rifle through your CD album to choose the next one to play.

It’s even a shock when you find some hidden CDs you burnt when you were younger, the sound of nostalgia bringing back memories of your childhood.

The hum of the dingy, flickering bulbs in the gas station seem to be the only thing you can focus on as you slowly prowl the aisles, waiting for something to catch your eye. Colourful, fluorescent wrappers seem to jump out of their display and into your hands as you collect many sugary delights that would make your husband cock a brow at you. But he’s not here, so you pay no mind as you take them to the register and pour them all in the passenger seat before you get back on the road once more.

The roads seem to blend into each other as you continuously drive for what seems like days, when in reality is only a couple of hours. It’s much more tense when you consider what awaits you back home.

It’s been at least 10 years since you’ve left, and you never looked back.

Sure, family would come to visit the city and you’d enjoy that; it was easier being able to forget about what was left behind. Yet it still doesn’t seem completely buried, as if it’s dormant and waiting for you to release it once more.

It wasn’t long until you’d arrive soon. You were beginning to recognise the trails and overgrown trees arching over each other as you drove through what felt like a leafy tunnel, snippets of sunlight peeking through.

The breeze cleansed your skin, airing out the car along with the gentle way it soothed your skin as you drove at a leisurely pace.

As much as you were content right now, you knew it may not last for long once revisiting everything that was abandoned years ago. It’s definitely not ruining the atmosphere nor making you now more nervous than ever.

You’ve made it.

You almost want to stop your car in front of the town’s welcome sign, but decide against it and instead drive even slower to encapsulate the same old views that you used to.

As you look around, nothing has changed.

It’s still the same old town, with only minor adjustments to keep up with the times. It’s as if someone’s polished it ever so slightly, while keeping the same ‘look’.

You could turn back. Nobody has seen you yet, it could be your chance-

No. You’re here now, there’s just no point in cowering away.

Pulling up to the familiar drive of your family home, the fresh scent of washed linen and lavenders waft in the air. Your mother has clipped the washing up in the front yard, just like you remember, and your father has clearly been tending to the garden like he’d promised you.

Ten years ago.

It’s beginning to form a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea from the start.

Just and you’re about to turn to your car, a voice suddenly shrieks.

“Honey!? Is that you?” Your mother’s hands tremble, the basket of sheets toppling to the floor as she brings a hand to her face.

You didn’t realise she would’ve had this sort of reaction, but you didn’t want to question it at all.

“Mom, don’t cry!” You walk over to her, wrapping an arm around her reassuringly.

“I’m- I’m not, baby..” she inhales shakily, “Oh, maybe I am. Look at me.. crying like this..” she murmurs, wiping her eyes gently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You whisper.

“It’s okay, dear. Just wait until your father hears.”

Your father was absolutely enthralled seeing you, almost as emotional as your mother as he hugs you firmly.

It’s been too long. Why did you leave them behind like this? That’s the main question running through your head, even if you had the rightful reasons to leave you couldn’t help but still feel guilty for what you did.

After a heartfelt moment of hugging and exchanging ‘I missed you’s’, you finally get to come inside the house.

It’s barely changed, still your dreamy childhood home. The floorboards still creak in the exact spots they used to, reminding you of the way you practically jumped over them when it came to sneaking out at night.

The furniture stayed quite similar, even the new items still referencing to the old ones that used to be there. It felt as if you’d walked into a time capsule.

“Oh, honey, it’s so good to have you back. Maybe we should arrange a small get together. Just to celebrate.” Your mother chimes, smiling as she follows you, still entranced by the same childlike wonder that seemed to come back after all these years.

“We kept your room just the same.” Your father adds, smiling at your excited grin and haste to run up the stairs to what used to be your room.

You almost shriek at the sight of it when you push open the door hurriedly.

It’s just the way you’d left it. Feminine, soft pinks decorate the room as your antique vanity catches the corner of your eye.

“Wow. Wow. Wow- it’s just- so..”, you sniffle and take a deep breath. You can’t cry again, it’ll wear you out at this rate.

You practically topple onto your bed. Relishing in the threatening squeak of the mattress as you sink into your duvet. It’s the same duvet, but smells fresh.

Knowing your parents, they probably washed it while you were away in hopes that you’d come back.

Your mother stands by the doorway, watching with a warm smile as nostalgia floods both of your senses.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll invite all the neighbours, even that Phillip boy-“

You whip your head around, eyes wide.

“Is- is that necessary, ma?”

“Why? Did something happen?” She frowns.

Your father calls from down the hallway, “Do I need to get my rifle back out?”

“No… it’s okay, pa.” You get up and walk over to your mother, who takes your hands in hers with concern.

“What is it then? I don’t have to invite him if you want.”

You shake your head slowly.

“It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

You nod.

-

The next day had began to eat at you with anxiety before it even began.

You woke up earlier than you were supposed to, waiting under the covers as you listened for any movement of some sort.

Clear.

You get up, open the curtains to meet a dreary ray of sunlight slowly enveloping your whole body as you push them open further. It’s warm, almost welcoming as you smile to yourself.

However, beneath all of this was a growing fear now seeping into you.

It had been years since you’d heard the name ‘Phillip Graves’ and you were hoping you wouldn’t have had to hear it again. But it was clearly inevitable.

You splash a little water onto your face and wrap one of your dainty silk robes around yourself, it’s too early to properly get ready for the day.

This prompts you to sneak downstairs, tiptoeing slowly as if you were in a mine field. You didn’t want to disrupt your parents right now.

It’s almost instinct when you turn towards the front door and unlock it, breathing in the fresh summer breeze. Your shoulders relax and somehow you feel at ease.

Now on the porch, you ease yourself into the familiar swinging bench that used to be your favourite spot as a teen. You vividly remember waiting in this seat when Phillip promised to pick you up for a date in his daddy’s worn out truck.

Memories.

You lean back, wistfully closing your eyes as you sink into the cushions and let the memories take over your mind.

That’s why you’re almost sure you’re hallucinating when an oddly familiar revving of an engine blares in your ears as this clearly imaginary car halts to a stop.

You snap up, blinking drearily as you immediately look in the direction of the noise.

“Sugar, what are you doing here?”

No way.

You don’t move, you can’t move.

It’s Phillip Graves, the former love of your life.

He’s hopping out of his truck, staring in disbelief as he saunters towards you. He’s chuckling, placing his hat firmly on his head as he steps cautiously onto your porch.

“Am I dreaming? Or is your dad reloading his shotgun at this very moment?” He smiles, now seemingly unfazed after a few seconds of processing the sight before him.

You, on the other hand, are not responding very well to this. You wrap your robe over your chest in sheer embarrassment while still looking up at him, slack jawed, from your seat.

It finally takes a second for you to shake your head and say something. It comes out a little quiet, shaky even.

“They’re… uhm- they’re sleeping. Right now.” You respond, swallowing thickly and watching his every move like a hawk.

“Hm.” He nods, pursing his lips.

“It’s just you and me then, huh?” Phillip leans against one of the wooden beams of the porch railing, eyes scanning up and down your body.

“Yes.” You whisper, tempted to get up and strangle the cocky smirk that spread across his lips.

“It’s been awhile, didn’t think you’d show up again.”

“No.. no- well, yes it has- but- but I mean no I didn’t really think so either… not so soon..”

“How come?” His responses are snappy, he doesn’t look at you anymore as his eyes dart over to the front door.

“Uhm, I was just going to visit when I got married but.. changed my mind.” A weak chuckle escaped your lips, which you mentally berate yourself for.

“Well, sugar, this has been nice. Tell your daddy that those parts for the fencing have arrived for me, okay?” He questions, cocking a brow at you.

You nod once more, still so shaken.

“I need words, honey.”

“Yes..”

“Good. I’ll see you later. At your little ‘get together’.”

And with that final farewell, he’s turned away and seems to already be starting up his truck when you’ve blinked.

You would’ve thought he’d changed, maybe even softened after your last night together. But it’s shocking how he managed to sober up a few seconds after seeing you.

You can only watch limply as his truck fades away in the distance.

Was he hiding something?

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #fanfiction #cod mwii #phillip graves x reader #cod mw2 fanfic #call of duty #phillip graves x you #warren kole #Spotify

[ghost-proofbaby]

Steve Harrington - Enchanted

enchanted (steve's version)

warnings: insinuations of a fem!reader (mentions of lipstick, r wearing a dress, etc) and yearning. i am yearning. that's all.

wc: 2.5k+ (don't say a WORD)

a/n: congratulations! you ruined me! my ultimate steve fantasy, because if you know me, you know i will do anything to bring up the scenario of meeting steve at some stupid fancy party. i don't even care that i'm breaking my word count rule it was well-deserved.

Steve always hated these parties. They were brimming with insincerity and fake laughter, forced smiles and polite small talk between business owners that would all double cross one another for the right price without feeling a morsel of remorse. Stupid games, stupid prizes. None of it appealed to him. None of it. 

But he still had to attend to appease his parents. He’d once tried to argue his way out of them, but it had led to a bigger fight than it was worth. No, Steve had to pick his battles carefully these days – for the greater good of the war that raged on inside his home behind closed doors, he knew it was best to just stomach all of the snobs and the frauds for a few hours at most. At least he could finally drink. It all became much more bearable when he had access to the open bar. 

And it’s when he’s sitting at that very bar, eyes dully watching a drop of condensation drip down the side of his whiskey on the rocks, that he first sees you. 

He’d never seen you around here before. He was used to the rotation of passing faces, some old and some new, but he wasn’t used to someone his age being here. Most of the attendees were his elders, a fact they liked to remind him of, or were young children running laps as their parents tried to network. It wasn’t the right scene for any twenty something year old. Not unless they were in Steve’s boat and being forced to attend. And even then, most people Steve’s age were too old to be bossed away in that way by their parents. His father only had the upper hand by pressing on about how Steve was to inherit the company, how he needed to attend these events for that. 

Yet even with the facts at hand, there you were. Standing amongst a circle of older gentlemen who you were flashing overly exaggerated expressions at to seem enticed. But each time their attention wavered, Steve would catch a glimpse of the truth; your boredom as your face would relax, your annoyance as you would roll your eyes, your distaste at the topic of discussion as you’d purse your lips and cover it with a sip of your drink. Steve watched it all in real time, suddenly sitting up a little bit straight in his stool, and couldn’t stop the intrigue from taking hold of him.  

And then you looked at him. 

It was after another eyeroll, paired beautifully with a lift of your drink and flick of your wrist to half-assedly contribute to the private toast happening amongst the men. Over the rim of that martini glass, your eyes had scanned the room, and you had caught his stare. 

Slowly, the ruby lips pressed to the rim of the glass curled upwards. Your eyebrows raised every so slightly, a small gesture only meant for him from across the room. He’d caught your attention just as you had his. A silent recognition – like calls to like. 

He tries to fight the blush that creeps out from beneath the collar of his well-pressed dress shirt, a dangerous white that only contrasts the pink flush more obviously. Subtly, he raises his glass, reveling in your stare. 

You don’t return his measly toast. His cheeks burn as he looks down, taking to gulping down the rest of his whiskey in embarrassment. A terrible move, on his part, because it burns.

It continues to burn more ferociously when he chokes at the sound of your voice.

“Isn’t whiskey meant to be sipped?” you question, confidently moving to take the empty seat beside him at the counter, “Or at least, that’s what they tell me,” your chin juts in the direction of the group you’d just escaped from carefully, a small enough movement they wouldn’t have seen it. 

Steve fights back a round of coughs, rushing to sit down the glass as he clears his throat repeatedly before he can say a word to you, “How do you know it’s whiskey?” 

He’d meant for it to come out charming. Instead, it comes out strangled, squeaky, as your grin widens. 

“I don’t,” you shrug, gleaming at him awfully entertained, “But between me and you, that’s the only dark liquor I know.” 

“Scotch, bourbon, rum, brandy, cognac-” Steve rattles off the list he’d memorized thanks to his father, almost as if on autopilot, before he processes how rude he sounds and cuts off, “Sorry, I sound like a jackass right now.” 

Once more, only after the sentence has fallen from his lips does he recognize that it’s not entirely appropriate. 

He grimaces and prepares to apologize, but looks over to see you practically buzzing in your seat, pearly white teeth now peeking out from behind your smiling lips that just keep stretching further. 

“Don’t be sorry. It makes you fit right in,” you wave a tepid hand between the limited space between your bodies, motioning around at the surrounding room and its occupants. 

His shoulders relax a little. You were right, of course. The room was filled with jackasses. Steve knew this, had come to accept this, even if he’d never say it to their faces for the sake of his family’s reputation. 

Just as Steve was fitting in with the echo of his father’s voice replacing his, you also fit into the room. You were dressed to the nines, same as the other wives who draped themselves off their husbands’ arms as they faked interest in words exchanged. His eyes travel down over the deep purple silk of your dress. It was floor length with a slit that revealed your right leg as you casually cross your legs to get more comfortable. The royal shade glimmers beneath the lowlights of the bar and seem to enchant Steve as he lets his eye linger over every curve of your body that the material clings to. Your minimal jewelry that you adorned glitters right along with it, the faux diamonds not quite gaudy but gathering attentive eyes all the same. With each wink and shimmer, it seems as if they whisper to everyone around you, Steve included, look at me. Look at how I shine.

When you move to sit your drink down beside his, your pinkies brush. The smallest of touches, and it sends a tirade of goosebumps up and down his forearms. The neck at the nape of his neck prickles when you let your hand rest just a tad bit closer to his than necessary. Like a dare, an offer of a game of cat and mouse to break up this boring evening. 

Both of you fit in with this room, but beneath the surface, Steve knows neither of you belong. 

——

One drink, two drinks, three drinks. Steve loses count as he talks away the evening with you. Your quick wit, the way you carry yourself with allusive confidence, your kindness that hides below each lingering glance and shy smile — he’s starstruck in your presence. He’s enchanted. He knows from this night forward, he will seek you out at every single one of these parties he will have to grovel through, if only to beg of you to breathe him to life just as you had tonight.

“Abba? You’re telling me that Abba is your favorite band?” you laugh, music to his ears. 

He knows you’re not laughing at him, but with him as he chuckles at his own answer. “Say what you want, they might just be the greatest pop stars of our generation. Have you heard Voulez-vous?” 

“Everyone’s heard Voulez-vous.” 

“So you get it! They’re a classic!” 

You make the room feel bigger, brighter. All the heaviness that usually weighs Steve down on these nights has lifted, and in its airy absence, your mindless touches of his forearm and beautiful laughter has occupied him instead. 

“I never said that!” you lean forward a bit with drunken giggles, hand grabbing onto him to steady yourself. His dress jacket is still draped over your shoulders from when he’d caught your shiver earlier in the night, “Hey, I- No. I never said that! D-Don’t out words… words in my…” 

You can’t even finish your sentence, too interrupted by the bursts of your giddiness escaping you. Steve’s just as bad as you are — he’s probably making a fool of himself and his family name by now, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Let them stare, he thinks as he watches the crinkle of your nose and lets it leave him breathless, I don’t care. 

“Words in your what?” he teases, “C’mon honey, are you getting all choked up over Abba-“ 

“Stephen.” 

All the bubbling happiness bursts right before his eyes as a rough hand comes down on his shoulder. He glances up to be met with his father’s disapproving glare. 

“Dad, I-“ his face turns pale, sitting up straight as a rod, all that joy you'd lit aflame in him suddenly dim. 

“We’re leaving now,” it’s not a question, not a proposition, not an exchange of casual information. It’s a demand. 

Steve glances back over his shoulder at you. You, the enchanting stranger who is tugging his jacket a little bit tighter around yourself, the one person who made him feel as though there was somewhere in this world he may belong. 

“Okay,” he doesn’t look back at his father; he can’t hide his disappointment. And he’d rather see your understanding warmth than his father’s sneer in this moment.

“We’re leaving now,” his father stressed again, emphasizing with urgency and irritation. 

“Okay,” Steve repeats, his gut twisting the longer he stares at you. He wishes the night wouldn’t end. He wishes time would have mercy on him and you, “I’ll meet you and mom out front.” 

His father’s hum is in distaste, but no more arguing occurs at the risk of causing a scene.

The moment you two are alone once more, as alone as you could get in a crowded room, you smile sadly at him.

“Stephen, huh?” you ask quietly, and he catches the fiddling of your thumbs, “I’ve just been calling you Prince Charming in my head the entire night.” 

His chest aches. The two of you hadn’t even exchanged names — there had been no need for introductions, not when his soul and yours had felt so familiar with one another right from the start. 

“Funny,” he chuckles, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair, “I’ve just been referring to you as princess.” 

His mother and father are waiting for him. There’ll be Hell to pay for every second longer he leaves them out front with the car. 

He doesn’t care when you lean forward on your elbows, a bit of that charismatic charm that had first captured him in your trap finally returning as you fold your hands beneath your chin and smirk, “Just princess? Can’t even give me a specific one?” 

“None of them compare to you,” the words slip out before he can think them over, and he damns the whiskey. He damns this entire room and he damns his parents who are expecting him to just leave now that he has you. 

As quickly as it returns, the charm stutters and vanishes to reveal the caring and enticing soul he had latched onto over conversation. 

You bring your hands down to your lap and stare down at them for a moment, the most bashful he’d seen you the entire night, “I’m not a princess, Stephe-“

“Steve,” he breathes out, “Please call me Steve.”

“I’m not a princess, Steve,” you try once more, correcting yourself as you look up at him, “Flattery gets you nowhere around here, didn’t you know that?” 

Your eyes do a slow take of the room that had melted away for the last few hours, a scan of those god awful people and all their mandated hellos and loaded how are yous. 

They still don’t exist to him. He still only sees you, “I’m not like them. You’re not like them.” 

He needs more time. He doesn’t know you well enough, he needs to know all there is to know about you. He should’ve asked you questions with the time gifted tonight; he should have asked for your name, should have discovered your favorite color, should have learned what brought you here and where he might find you again. 

Should have, should have, should have. He’s too late.

“You’re supposed to be leaving,” you softly remind him.

“Can I at least have your name?”

He knows your answer before you say it, watching the way your lips tug up as if taunting him.

He should have asked you to join him out on one of the quieter balconies. He should have let his hand bump yours one too many times. He should have kissed you and gotten your lipstick all over his face.

“Your father is waiting for you,” you say in lieu of answering his question, suddenly standing and moving to shrug off his jacket.

He stops you immediately, hands wrapping around your wrists gently enough to cease the motion as he stands as well, “Don’t. Keep it… until next time.” 

A quiet plea that he will see you again. A silent prayer that this is not where the story ends.

You comply, not even putting up so much as a fight as you drop your hands. They slip from his grasp, and he wonders if the skin where he’d touched you burns the way in which his fingertips do now.

“It was nice meeting you, prince charming,” you whisper, looking at him with starry eyes that almost convince him that if he were to ask you for another hour, another night, you would give it to him. 

It feels as though they’re whispering to him that your soul needed this as much as his.

“I’ll see you around, princess,” he echoes back, ignoring the tightness in his throat that screams this is wrong, that the night shouldn’t end yet and he should order you two another round of drinks.

When he makes no move to leave, only staring into your eyes and trying to commit you to memory, you suddenly step forward. Two small steps, and you’re leaning up, his breath catching as your lips press firmly to his cheek. You pull away, and he can feel the residue of your lipstick left behind, surely staining him as red as it had your glass.

He reaches up to press a burning fingertip to the mark, but you’re quick to grab his wrist, just as he had done to you.

“Don’t,” you repeat his words, that same enchanting smile overtaking your face as when you’d first spotted him from across the room, “Keep it until next time.” 

An answer to his pleas and prayers. He will see you again. He has to see you again. 

His rosey cheeks never fade, blushing the entire car ride home, and then some.

"this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the story line ends."

#speak now (ghost's version) #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #i'm yearning fuck

[boysplanetrecaps]

Build Up Episode 2: Shall I..? and Ditto

Hello and welcome back to my current obsession, my MNET Build Up Recaps! In the previous one, we wrapped up episode 1. In this one, we’re starting episode 2. Let’s do it!

We kick things off with Dahee saying that Wendy had to leave because of her schedule, so for the rest of the performances today, only five judges will be judging. 

The first song to be performed will be…

Shall I Love You Again? (다시 사랑한다 말할까), originally by Kim Dong-ryul 

Shall I Love You Again? Also is known by the English translation “Shall we begin again,” which is a bit more palatable, I think. As far as I can tell, it came out in 2008. 

Per MNET’s translations of its captions, it’s “a song where the unique sensitivity of the original song and the digestion of profound and heavy bass are the key.” Um. Okay, sure. What’s interesting is that is exactly what google translate makes of the caption as well, suggesting that the translations are being generated via google translate.

Kim Dong-ryul, the original singer, is also the original singer of the song Drunken Truth, which I know as the song that Chen sang when he went on King of Masked Singer. So there’s that connection for me. Kim Dong-ryul apparently writes/composes/arranges all his own songs, so good for him! 

Vocal Coach Guy is a bit concerned about the song choice. “Isn’t this a bit retro?” he asks. “It needs to be clean to sound cool. It might not sound right to vocalists these days.” I mean, isn’t that a critique that could be made of most of these songs? IDK.

The guys come up from backstage, holding hands. 

Filmed as usual on one of MNET’s glorious Idaho russets. 

The judges are surprised to see Yeo One. “Pentagon?!” Baekho says. Hey, buddy. You are the LAST one to be surprised if a reasonably well established idol shows up on a reality survival show. 

Yeo One appears to be their spokesman, and they give a cute introduction as “Barista.” 

Kim Seohyung , Kim Seongjeong

Yeo One, Yoon In Hwan

Yes, I would like a cup of coffee. Unless it is between the hours of midnight at 5am, I probably want a cup of coffee. Thank you. You have my vote. 

Solar repeats, “Ba-ree-sta?” as if she doesn’t know what it means. Girl, didn’t you watch Coffee Prince? 

Yeo One explains that since they’re baritones and stars, they’re baristas! Ok, I give you that. You win, Yeo One. You win. 

Kim Seohyung the musical actor says he wants to make the stage shine with his warm voice. In my initial write up of him, I said that he has that classical “musical actor” voice that I don’t tend to like much. I said that I thought he belonged in the power category, not the unique category. We barely saw him on episode 1, but for some reason I get the sense that he’s a funny guy with an interesting personality. 

Kim Seongjeong again says that he has vocal, physical, and musical skills, then does a spin on one foot. He’s also a musical actor, and you may remember him as our adorable leaping lizard from episode 1. I said that his singing style isn’t the kind that I tend to respond to, but I respect its rich timbre and his excellent breath support. Plus, the leaping! We love the leaping. 

Yeo One says, “I’m Yeo One from Pentagon, and I’ll touch your heart with a warm tone like a vanilla latte.” Interesting that he says he’s in Pentagon still -- nice to have that confirmed. In my intro recaps, I said that Yeo One has a light, charming vocal color and a lovable vibe. He’s not a powerhouse vocalist, but he’s nice to listen to.

Yoon Inhwan shows a few exaggerated facial expressions and says, “From sad to happy, I’m a ballad singer who can pull off any genre.” Yoon Inhwan’s teaser performance was easily my least favorite. I really don’t care for his thick vocal color, but he has a powerful voice and a good sense of pitch. Learning that he specifically classifies himself as a ballad singer helps explain my personal dislike of his singing style. I’m sorry if anyone out there really likes the way he sings -- I’m not saying it’s objectively bad, I’m just saying that subjectively, I don’t like it much. But he seems to also be a funny, interesting guy. 

Vocal Coach Guy notes that all four have similar vocal ranges, then asks if they have a strategy to be chosen top tier. That cues the flashback…

Kim Seongjeong, our leaping lizard, chooses the song first; he was in fourth place and had an early pick. Next was Yeo One, who actually only got one vote fewer than Jay Chang and finished in 11th place. Soon after, Kim Seohyung joined, and then 24th place Yoon Inhwan joined. This was the third song to fill up, after Ditto and Tomboy, making it a pretty popular choice. 

Seongjeong chose the song because it suits his vocal range, but we find out that Yeo One chose it because he really wanted to work with Seongjeong. 

I think Seongjeong is really flattered -- I mean, Yeo One is pretty darn famous, so it’s always a good feeling. 

Turns out that Kim Seohyung, who Seongjeong and Yeo One call “The one with the coat,” is also a big fan of Seongjeong’s voice, and wants to work with him too. We learn that Kim Seohyung is a “newbie musical actor who debuted 0 years ago.” 

Seohyung doing some musical acting.

And once Inhwan joins, it’s a team full of good feelings!

We see a pretty short montage of them rehearsing and all promising to win this one. 

And then we dive in to the performance!

Here’s the version without all the reactions. 

My thoughts:

Will the great dog please grant me the patience to listen to all these ballads. I really, really hate this song. Sorry if it’s your thing, it’s just really not mine. Ok, let me try to talk about their performances. 

Overall, they were very good. Their voices were all fairly similar, so they blended pretty well. Also, it’s nice to hear some baritones in an industry that’s obsessed with high notes. 

Three of them are musical actors and they really sound like musical actors to me. Seongjeong, our leaping lizard, has the fullest, richest voice and it is in fact quite nice to listen to. Seohyung sounds similar, but not quite as rich and full. I can see the appeal of the way they sing, even if it’s not necessarily what I want to listen to most of the time. 

Seohyung, left, and Seongjeong, right. 

Yeo One was obviously trying really hard, and his voice was a lot fuller than I would have thought it could be. It was a little sharp, not in pitch but in quality, but it made a nice contrast to the others. His throat sounded a little tight, like he was straining, and he seemed to run out of breath on longer notes and at the end of lines. His comparative lack of training stood out, unfortunately. I’d love to see him just work with a vocal coach more, because his natural tone is very pretty. 

Inhwan was a lot better than he was in the teaser, without as much of that closed throat sound that he’d had initially. I still wasn’t wild about his performance, unfortunately. 

You guys, I’m so sorry, I just can’t say much more about this because I just hate this song so much that I can’t listen to it again. Forgive me. 

The MNET edit, as usual, emphasizes how great they are. There were some unhappy reactions from Eunkwang when Yeo One was singing, but that’s about it. 

Solar looked like she was going to cry at one point.

“I just hate ballads so much.” -- Solar, maybe

When they’re done, the judges and the boys back stage all applaud politely. They enjoyed the performance, but weren’t necessarily blown away by it. I don’t think that’s totally the singers’ fault.

When they’re done, the first thing the Vocal Coach Guy (VCG) says is that this is a difficult song to sing, and was made to be sung by one person, not four. Isn’t that true of a lot of songs, though? A ton of songs sung by groups are pretty personal. 

VCG goes on to say that Seongjeong sang it like a musical and did everything right.

Then Dahee asks Eunkwang what he thought of Yeo One, given that they’re from the same agency (Cube) and Eunkwang is Yeo One’s sunbae. There’s a bit of a pause, and then Eunkwang says, “I think you need to practice a little harder. I thought you should dig into the song in more detail.”

If you look closely, you can actually *see* Yeo One’s broken heart. 

The editors play clips and we hear the same notes that ended a bit too soon and didn’t have quite enough support. Yep, that’s what I noticed too. 

Hey, Eunkwang. You know that Cube doesn’t really help its artists in any way. Why don’t you help out your hoobae and offer more specific advice? I hope they meet later on and talk about it because Yeo One won’t get more trained just by wanting it more. That’s not how training works. 

After that, Eunkwang continues his “piss off BPR-Noona” shtick by saying that he liked Inhwan best. What in the…?

Solar praises Seohyung the most. She says that she got a bit emotional listening to the performance, maybe because of their desperation, she’s not sure. They say thank you. 

It’s time to vote for top tier. The judges seem to be torn between Seongjeong and Inhwan. I’m in crazy land.

The votes come in, and it’s…

… a tie.

Baekho and Solar vote for Inhwan, VCG and Eunkwang vote for Seongjeong, and Jaehwan unexpectedly votes for Yeo One. I bet he had some kind things to say about him, too, but the editors wanted to make it look like Yeo One was terrible and only showed Eunkwang criticizing him.

Backstage, Lim Jun Hyeok (former Day6) and Choi Ha Ram from team Breath joke that because the song is by Kim Dongryul, the score would be tied. The joke is that the name Dong Ryul sounds like the Korean word for “tied” as in tied score.

Dahee asks for a revote to break the tie, and the revote is really interesting.

Baekho and Solar both change their votes from Inhwan to Seongjeong.

VCG and Eunkwang hold steady with Seongjeong. 

And Jaehwan, ever the maverick, votes for Inhwan this time. 

So the top tier was chosen -- it’s our leaping lizard Seongjeong! I’m glad -- I’ve come to like his voice, even if it’s not what I normally gravitate to. But it’s got to kind of hurt for the other guys.

Eunkwang tells Seongjeong that he’s heard that Seongjeong doesn’t have much training, which surprises me a lot. Eunkwang says that Seongjeong can continue to develop his skills on this show. Hey Eunkwang, can Yeo One develop his skills? Or do you hate Pentagon for being younger and slightly more popular these days than you are? Is that the problem, Eunkwang? I’m sorry, team, but I’ve never liked this guy much and the more I see of him, the more I feel sure of it. I’m sorry if you’re a big fan of his. Maybe I’m misjudging him. But I can only judge what I see. 

Dahee asks Seongjeong how it feels to take top tier. He says he’s a little embarrassed because he needs to work harder. VCG tells him not to be so sad -- he won! I like VCG, you guys, even if I am physically unable to learn his name.

Almost immediately we dive into our next performance, and it’s…

Ditto

When the song is announced, the boys backstage begin singing the opening “hoo-hooo” like a wolf howl.

“Wooo-hoooo…”   LTR: Gwangsuk, Joohee, Inhyuk, all from team Tomboy

The judges wonder how it can this cover even be done? I guess they mean that it’s tricky because it was originally performed by young girls, but for me, I see a different difficulty. 

To me, Ditto is a weird choice for this competition because it’s not really a song -- it’s more like the idea of a song. It’s like the imprint of a song on a couch cushion after a song sat there for a while. It’s like a faint ring in the tub after a song took a bath there. It’s like the heat in a pile of blankets after a song slept there. It’s almost a song, but not quite. It’s the La Croix of songs. 

I’m not saying I dislike it. I mean, I like La Croix. It’s just that I don’t hear much in the way of chords. It’s kind of just a melody and a drum beat. So I’m not really sure how it could be rearranged. 

But of course, I understand the draw of picking it. It’s mostly in English, which would make it more appropriate for idol singers used to singing in English, and anyone like Jay or Soomin who is actually American. It also was a monster hit. A MONSTER hit. For me, the best song by New Jeans is obviously Attention but I don’t run the world, and everyone else likes Ditto, so, so be it. 

And everyone also loves Hype Boy, including VCG, who apparently was filmed at some point doing a dance cover of that song.  Cute. 

The Ditto team takes the stage, and they are full of MZ looks, apparently.

I had to look up what MZ meant, and apparently it is a combination of the two terms “Millennials” and “Generation Z” and is used in Korea as a generally broad term for younger people. It might also suggest young people who are on-trend…? More information requested. 

They all introduce themselves. Wumuti does his little Wumuti dance. You know, this one? 

..but more subdued.

“Chonin.. Wumuti-ti-ti-ti-ti…” 

VCG is like he’s still doing this? It’s a little cringey, actually. 

Woong announces himself as MNET’s would-be son, continuing his narrative. They’ll adopt you someday, Woong!  

Seokhoon says, “I’ll land in your hearts like a bolt of lightening.” 

Soomin says he’s a a singer-songwriter who looks like a goldendoodle. 

We see a flashback of the voice check and learn that throughout, Soomin was laid back, languid, almost asleep. Was he jet lagged? 

Our sweet Sunyoul from Up10tion interviews, “There was a guy with a beanie that seems to have a free soul. A real MZ from the United States. People like him tend to be really good singers.” I don’t know, Sunyoul. I’ve met a lot of American free spirits in beanies and with guitars who definitely are not good singers. Spend enough time at youth hostels and you will meet one million of them.

We see that Soomin introduced himself in English: “Hey guys, I’m a singer songwriter, 19 years old, from Chicago Illinois, Jung Soomin, nice to meet you.”

I love the look on their faces in the background. 

We’ve seen him use Korean pretty well, so why introduce himself in English? It feels like a weird power play. But maybe he said it twice, once in each language, for all we know. Regardless, it is a revelation to learn he’s 19 -- I got the sense he was quite young but I don’t know if I would have guessed quite that young. 

Since Soomin tied for fourth place, he was the first to choose Ditto. Seokhwa, Woong, and Wumuti all chose it when all other options were open, and this song was one of the first to fill up. 

We see them all introducing themselves so I’ll mention all their ages. Woong is 26 and Wumuti and Seokhwa are both 24, making the latter two chingus and making Soomin the maknae of this team and one of the two youngest on the whole show. He doesn’t seem to understand what the maknae role entails…. More on that later. 

After Woong and Seokhwa say that they’re in idol groups, Soomin says, “oh, you’re all idols?” And Woong says, “well, Seokhwa and I are idols.” Wumuti says, “I’m a half-idol,” then laughs with sad eyes.  

We cut back to a pre-production meeting, when a staff member asks Wumuti, “Are you working as an idol?” His reply is awful. He says, “ I’m filming challenge dances and whatnot…” Oh noooo. He goes on, “I need to debut. I’m always so close to debut, but it slips away. This time…. The first thought I had was, ‘what if it doesn’t work out?’ “

His eyes are shining with tears as he repeats, “I really want to debut.” 

We cut back to footage from episode one and see him make a beeline for Ditto. This was the song he really, really wanted. Wumuti is smart enough to know that to catch people’s attention, it’s best to cover songs that they already like. 

The team decides to tackle part distribution. (There’s a clip of this on Youtube with subtitles). Both Wumuti and Soomin want the opening part, the “hoo hoo” part. In an interview, Soomin says that Wumuti isn’t his competition, and kind of rolls his eyes a little when Wumuti sings. They both sing, and the other two guys vote for Soomin to take the part. Seokhwa kindly checks in with Wumuti to make sure he’s ok, and Wumuti says he is, but he interviews that he’s screwed. 

We go straight to the performance. 

Here’s the full version WITH reactions. 

Here’s the full version WITHOUT reactions. 

My thoughts: 

Overall, really nice. It’s nice to hear some more pop-style vocals after all the overwrought ballads. 

Soomin does have a really nice voice even if I’m not totally sure about his personality. It’s light and sweet, and manages to be pretty clean while still having some texture. But on the higher notes, when he’s not in his falsetto range, he sounds kind of strained and nasal. He definitely needs to work on that upper mix. It’ll be a real breakthrough for him.

Woong’s voice is rougher, almost husky, yet still smooth, like raw silk. I actually really like it, even if it’s not the official way that singers “should” sing. I like his pop-style take on the chorus vocals. 

Seokhwa has a bit of a rough time here. On the “I got nothing to lose…” he sounds really nasal and strained, like he’s having a hard time making the higher notes even come out. He’s pitchy, too. However, on the lower notes, he sounds much better, and gosh isn’t he cute? Also, his adlib “woah!” right before the end sounded really great. I hope he learns a little more about how to open up his palette to really hit those high notes.

Wumuti sings the best I’ve ever heard him sing. He matches Woong’s vocal color somehow, but brings in more warmth and performance. His little vocal gestures don’t come across as annoying or studied, and I have a low-tolerance for that kind of thing. 

Their harmonies sound amazing, too. 

Side note: 

What is with the whales in the background? Does this song take place underwater? 

In the MNET edit, we see that everyone listening is having a great time. The judges smile at Soomin’s intro, but think that Woong is going too fast. I didn’t really notice that, but I don’t know the song super well.  Eunkwang makes a face at Seokhwa’s weak high notes, but Jaehwan is into all of it.

Backstage, the guys call the music dreamy. Someone says that Wumuti looks like cotton candy. 

Jeong Inseong from KNK dances at his teammate Hwanhee.

“I thought I told you that I Do. Not. Dance.” - Hwanhee, probably 

When they’re done, Eunkwang says, “Difficult,” and Jaehwan says, “Is it too difficult?”

Choi Haram says it’s different to hear this song sung by four men, and Kim Minseo says it’s refreshing. 

Ok, for this part, the good feed I found at ok.ru punked out for a bit so I had to switch to https://wwv.dramacool.vip/build-up-vocal-boy-group-survivor-2024-episode-2-english-sub/ which does not have English subtitles despite what the title says. So it was me and my google-translate-camera again, and I did my best.  

The judging isn’t 100% flattering. 

VCG says something like, “It’s really important for a song to match the singers. And these two guys, Seokhwa and Woong, they’re better than the performance they just gave. You two chose the wrong song!” 

We see a clip of them performing again and the captions tell us that Woong’s voice is husky (true) and Seokhwa’s voice is delicate (true). “It’s a pity that the song selection doesn’t match the tone,” the caption concludes. 

Solar disagrees completely, though. She says she notices that Seokhwa and Woong were doing a little bit of choreography on stage, almost as if they couldn’t help themselves, and she liked it and found it a refreshing change. Yes, they have different vocal tones, but that’s the point of a singing group, that each person brings their own tone. She has a high opinion of their talent. 

Jaehwan says that Soomin has a languid charm. Everyone praises him, and he says thank you, sunbaenim! For some reason, it was wrong for him to do that, because everyone laughs. 

Backstage, Hwanhee jokes with Inseong that he (Hwanhee) could also sing languidly.

He demonstrates, but Inseong points out that all he’s doing differently is making his face look sleepy, and his voice sounds the same.

They all laugh. It really looks like this team is getting along great. I’m looking forward to them, even though I think they’re singing some sort of awful ballad. 

Back at the judging table, Jaehwan goes on to say that he likes how Wumuti kind of did his own thing during the performance. Yes, they were on a team, but Wumuti used it as a chance to do a solo performance -- after all, it’s a competition. 

I’m liking Jaehwan more and more. I feel like he’s been on so many of these competition shows as a contestant that he’s just going to do whatever the fuck he wants now that he’s a judge. He’s just like, “wheee! What’cha’gon’do’bout’it?” 

It’s time for the judges to vote. Eunkwang seems to find it very hard to pick a winner.

And here’s the results…

Baekho, VCG, and Eunkwang all vote for Wumuti. Solar and Jaehwan vote for Seokhwa from WEi. I’m kind of surprised that Seokhwa got that many votes -- I thought his was the weakest performance overall, in terms of technique. 

So Wumuti won! He can’t believe it. Aww! He stands there in shock, and it’s pretty cute. 

VCG says his vocals were very stable, and watching him made him happy. It was a good song choice. 

Dahee asks him how he feels. He answers, “I’m always in good spirits, but practicing for this performance, I thought a lot about how to make it better. I was really worried. So for the next performance, I will study the music and my voice and be more focused. Thank you.” 

The team takes a bow, and as they begin to leave, Jaehwan shouts, “Fighting, fighting!” Seokhwa smiles and makes a sort of “fighting!” gesture in return. 

They walk off stage arm in arm, all congratulating Wumuti, including Soomin.  

So, before we go to the next performance, I just want to talk a little bit more about Soomin and a possible villain edit. The thing is, the kid is American, and in the US we have different social norms. He seems to be pretty fluent in Korean, but seems to prefer English, so my guess is he might speak Korean at home with his parents, but I’d assume he speaks English nearly all the rest of the time. So he’d be learning Korean social norms a bit, but living in American social norms. Add in the fact that he is really talented and likely has been praised a fair bit, and the fact that he’s only 19 and mixing with established idols, this has to be a lot for his brain to process. 

Shows like this aren’t kind to people who come from different social norms. Just look at how the Chinese trainees are treated in MNET edits. Americans also often get misunderstood. Look at what happened to Yunjin on Produce48. I haven’t gotten to those episodes in my Produce48 Rewatch Project yet, but I remember vividly how she acted in a way that seemed perfectly normal to my American eyes but was misunderstood by the Korean public. 

Soomin probably thinks a bit of trash talking is fine and all in good fun. Or maybe he really is so full of himself that he thinks it’s appropriate to trash talk Wumuti, who seems in some way pathetic to him. Maybe. But I hope Soomin doesn’t get too bad of a villain edit, because he is so young, and managing the dizzying highs and horrible lows of being on a show like this would be hard for an adult, and doubly hard for a teenager in a group of 30 year olds. 

I guess we’ll see how this shapes up for him. I hope he figures it out, because he probably has a lot going on in his head right now and he needs to figure out how to get along with everyone if this is going to work out for him. 

And that's all I can fit in this post! I'll see you in the next one, when we tackle Tomboy (not THAT Tomboy).

And if you're enjoying the recaps, please feel free to tell a friend, or share on social media. I know that there are people out there who would like recaps like these if they could find them, so help us get connected. :)

See you soon,

xoxo BPR Noona

#bpr recaps build up #mnet build up #build up mnet #wumuti #ab6ix #wei #pentagon #yeo one

[careeralley]

Unlock Success: 13 Executive Recruiter Strategies

If you’re in a C-suite, senior management, or in a high-demand specialist role and are looking for a new job opportunity, one of your first steps should be to reach out to your existing Executive Recruiter or find one. You may want to network with several to get the best results. What Executive Search Firm do I use? Some generalist firms cover many different industries and others that specialize in certain industries. A Google search will find you many different options. However, the best thing to do would be to find a colleague that has had a positive personal experience.  Be careful to steer away from headhunters who are out to fill a monthly quota. There are a handful of executive recruiters who do not work on contingency, collecting a fee for every job filled. These firms tend to use recruitment research techniques and are much more interested in finding the right fit for their client’s work culture. Navigating the executive search landscape? Uncover 13 essential strategies for collaborating with recruiters to boost your career. Your next big opportunity awaits! #CareerAdvancement #ExecutiveRecruitersClick To Tweet Can I Send My Resume to Recruiters for Future Jobs? Recruiters may create a profile for you and add you to their database if they are impressed with your resume. Don’t expect them to take too much time with you as their main focus is on finding candidates for the current positions they are looking to fill.  Once you find a recruiter, here are some tips for working with them: 1. Networking, Networking, Networking Do not overlook this one. Take the time to build a relationship with executive recruiters. If their current search doesn’t land you a new job, maybe their next one will if they have a positive experience and a good relationship with you. Interact with them via LinkedIn, Twitter, and other platforms that they are active on. Stay in touch by reaching out to them via email occasionally. 2. Nice to Meet You If possible try to meet your recruiter in person or at least via a video call. Putting a face to a name makes your interaction more personable. It also increases your chances of being remembered for future positions.  3. Everything is Up to Date Make sure your resume is not only current but also that all your social networks are optimized for search engine visibility. This SEO-friendly approach will make it easier for recruiters and potential employers to find you. 4. Honesty is the Best Policy Most recruiters do background checks so be sure you don’t exaggerate any of your past job experiences, education, credentials, or accomplishments. This shouldn’t have to be said, but always tell the truth during your interviews. If you want to keep a good reputation with your recruiter and their firm you don’t want a black eye from a half-truth or being dishonest.  5. Are you a Good Fit? Conduct thorough research on the hiring company and thoughtfully evaluate if you're ready for a job change, are open to relocation (if necessary), and are a good match for the position. This approach prevents wasting both your time and the recruiter's. Additionally, explore job review sites to assess employee ratings and feedback, gaining further insight into the company's work environment. 6. Show Me the Money Recruiters have a salary range to work with, but usually hold back and don’t offer the top salary first thing. Unless they start by letting you know that their offer is a maximum salary, be prepared to negotiate above their first offer. Other things to ask about and possibly negotiate are bonuses,  (signing, monthly, quarterly, annually), moving expenses (if applicable), vacation packages, and other perks.  7. Don’t Oversell Yourself Ensure your resume and LinkedIn profile aren't overloaded with industry jargon, as it can come across as excessive. While it's important to maintain professionalism and incorporate relevant keywords, striking the right balance is key. Seeking feedback from peers within your industry can provide valuable insights and help refine your approach. 8. Keep References Professional Carefully select the references that you offer. You should only include professional relationships that you have and not family or friends. Are you sure that they will give you a positive reference? Check that you have their current contact details. Reach out to who you list as a reference to prepare them so that they may receive a reference request and thank them ahead of time. 9. Prepare to Impress Exercise caution not just in making a strong first impression but also in consistently impressing throughout the process. This includes timely communication, demonstrating the highest level of professionalism, and dressing appropriately for both in-person and video interviews. 10. To Post or Not to Post Always be mindful of how you present yourself on social media, aware that potential future employers might review your past posts. It might be necessary to retrospectively conduct an audit of your social media history, removing any posts that could be viewed unfavorably. Posts containing content that raises red flags can significantly undermine your prospects for future job opportunities. Maintaining a professional online presence is crucial, as it reflects on your brand and can influence an employer's decision-making process regarding your suitability for a position. 11. Pass it On If you are approached regarding a job opportunity that doesn't align with your interests or career goals, but you know someone who would be an ideal candidate, consider passing on the referral. This gesture not only helps a colleague or friend but also positions you as a valuable resource for future referrals, significantly enhancing your relationship with the recruiter. By actively engaging in this collaborative process, you demonstrate your industry insight and willingness to support your professional network, which can lead to mutually beneficial connections and opportunities down the line. 12. What’s their Process? Executive recruiters each have their unique processes. Inquire about their timeline for feedback and clarify the nature of any follow-up communications and actions you should anticipate. This approach ensures you have a clear understanding of the next steps and keeps you informed throughout the selection process. 13. Next, Getting the Offer If you receive an interview invitation or, even better, a job offer, that's excellent news. However, make sure to conduct thorough research before accepting. Should you find the opportunity unsuitable, it's crucial to communicate your reasons for declining to your recruiter. This feedback aids them in refining your profile within their database, ensuring future opportunities are more closely aligned with your career objectives and preferences. This proactive approach fosters a more productive relationship with your recruiter and enhances the chances of finding an ideal match. Summary Navigating the landscape of executive recruitment requires a blend of strategy, communication, and self-awareness. By leveraging these insights and maintaining a proactive, open dialogue with recruiters, you position yourself as a standout candidate in a competitive market. Remember, success in this journey is not just about landing a job but building enduring professional relationships that can shape the trajectory of your career. Keep these strategies in mind to unlock new opportunities and propel your career to new heights. Knock 'em Dead Job Interview: How to Turn Job Interviews Into Job Offers $14.95 $10.29 Using his twenty-five years of experience, New York Times bestselling author Martin Yate has established a set of rules for job interviews that is sure to get you noticed. Buy from Amazon Buy from Walmart We earn a commission if you click this link and make a purchase at no additional cost to you. 02/27/2024 06:30 pm GMT Read the full article

[truckreincarnation]

Credit Warp Glitch | Manami | 5.4

And so the architect of half their demises shows their pretty little face. Emphasis on the pretty, Manami has to admit to herself, even as she can’t stop her lip from curling into a snarl.

(Thump-thump.)

“Well well well! How nice of you to join us properly! Y, you’re really like some kind of beastly fae…! Gosh, I wouldn’t want to run into you in the woods at night… or, maybe I would, ehehe!

Really? She doesn’t have a feline familiar to look at her incredulously, but there’s one in spirit. Maybe Pettiwhisker does give her a look of disdain from across the room. Who knows.

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump.)

“Ahahaha, I really could have killed you back then for that little stunt with the Substance Six…! was so mad when it happened, I had to stand there and bite my tongue and pretend I wasn’t going to have to punch holes through a few dummies to feel better… At least you had an actual reason to do that, stupid as it might have been. Too little too late on returning the stuff, but at least you realized. Did you catch my scent before or after you decided to apologize, I wonder…? Ah well. That doesn’t matter right now. There are more important things to talk about!”

She holds up two fingers, one on each hand on her left side, for emphasis.

“Like so what if Germain did it?”

“People in Calamity are ignorant, fearful, and looking for every excuse to treat Incarnates like garbage. The other global players would loooove to feed into that and paint us all as A Regicidal Team here!”

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.)

“The way I see it, an agent of the Demon King killing Calum would be an act of war as part of an ongoing conflict, and it's a war that's  going to end veeeeery soon! We know you’re Germain,  but nobody in Calamity cared enough to notice that I, a far more recent arrival, had already been summoned a while ago soooo they’re not going to care about who you are outside of being the Secret Hero of Calamity. Sorry! Anyways...”

“Imagine what would come of it if they find out that Ocelottie’s a kingslayer? I think things are already bad enough out there without adding treason to the fire!”

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.)

“If I did it, everyone else gets an easier time walking away from this to live your lives as you choose. If the Lynchpin did it - you know, someone who binds us together as a unit? When they’re already accusing everyone of collusion? Three guesses how well that's gonna work out! And the first two don't count!!"

“Nobody is safe right now. The Five Dukes, the other foreign powers Alvarie was talking about, they’d all sleep much easier at night if everyone here was either Crested or murdered into forgetting who we used to be. Or maybe they’ll all work together to throw us all into Diete’s torture pit, unless the reports of that thing are highly exaggerated. There are plenty of horrible fates you’ve signed us up for here, Germain, because you haven't actually said anything about a follow-up plan here! Crests can be broken. There’s no coming back from some of the others.”

(Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.)

“But all hope is not lost…! It's going to be messy no matter what comes next… but in the chaos, taking decisive action will curb the worst of it. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do! I can actually protect you here. Maybe I didn’t kill King Calum personally, but I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right guise, and the right abilities to do it! I don’t see any reason why we need to let a silly thing like the truth get in the way of crafting an equally-compelling version of events that might be… more palatable to the public, you know?

“You want me to be the bad guy anyways, don’t you? So let me be the bad guy!”

#Manami #ch5 #trial5 #submission

[tower-of-erinyes]

The Rules!! Oh Right We Have A Copy | Mika | Trial 1.4 | RE: Dante, Kesley, Zenith

Well, Mika might've had more to say here, but Kesley damn well stole the show there. Well done, buddy. Her eyes widened, and she just sorta leaned back, watching him go off. Gradually, she crossed her arms, and just smiled. There wasn't really much more to add immediately. That was where they stood. She could sit back and theory-craft, but, well... Oh. Ohhh. To be fair, Dante's response to her got a reaction out of her. Not frustration, not anger, but... surprise. Had she genuinely forgotten about the money? Y-Yeah. Fair enough. Local influencer actually made a good point. And with the discussion going on about the Rules, well, she hadn't actually considered the role of the Saboteur. She hadn't actually considered the rules of the game. So what a time to actually read them. Fortunately, she had her scroll crumpled up deep in her jacket pocket. "The rules, huh? Y'know, if I can throw out a theory here." Mika hummed under her breath, skimming them. "What happens to us if we get it wrong? Everything that's been said is all purely about the saboteur. It's the saboteur's 'game' to win or lose here. We get it wrong, they win, and leave. We get it right, they get punished. That's it." Game got exaggerated air quotes, and a brief nod to Dante. She'll at least acknowledge the point they made. "Didn't the rules say 'before every murder a new saboteur is picked'? So, in theory, there's no end. Unless you over there feel like saying otherwise..." She glanced over to Atropos, and shrugged. Death, huh? If the culprit died, they died, right? This was more than just the saboteur's game - the saboteur just got the prize. But as far as what happened to the rest of them? In Mika's head, they just had punishment enough of just... still being here. That was enough. But she couldn't deny what Zenith was saying as a possibility. Until Atropos gave any answer on that front, she decided to push that from the forefront of her mind. This was getting tiring. Well, the more she read the rules over, the more she found herself thinking back, and looking to Dante. There was more to consider in here, now that she actually looked at it in some detail. "You know what? You're right. Right here, it says 'personally tailored prize'. Unfortunately, if that metric fuckton of cash was their personally-tailored prize, well then... That's gonna be impossible to pin to someone concretely. Because who wouldn't benefit from a metric fuckton of cash?" Her gaze wandered around the room, scanning everyone for some kind of reaction. "Hmm. In an odd sense, Drew was right. Finding one dead body should be enough to keep a killer off everyone's back, assuming said killer is playing by the rules, playing to win. It makes sense. Him and our saboteur, assuming they're not one and the same, are the only ones who actually read the rules. Nice." She doesn't seem interested in getting involved in all the rabble-rousing going on here. "You are right though that I feel like both of you-" She pointed to Drew and Beni both. -"aren't telling us everything. Drew's story makes sense, though he did a bunch of shit that could very well be a result of him stabbing her. Beni here isn't telling us everything, sure, but can be explained away. Someone used the secret passage, and someone met with Tsuki. Just spitballing here, but have we considered the possibility that they were both involved, here? In which case, the one who stabbed her with the dagger is likely the culprit." She closed her eyes, and shrugged. "Or I could just be talking out of my ass here. I don't know. If you want to keep jawing at each other, feel free, I'm just going to hold off on my vote on the off chance one of these two decides to tell us the full truth."

#submission #mika

[bubbleteaimagines]

Calling him by his last name prank (HQ Boys)

Haikyuu Boys Headcanon

KUROO TETSURO

“Did you have fun at your practice match today, Kuroo-San?”

He’s petty. He’s straight up petty when you call him by his last name, pretending not hear you even though you clearly asked him a question. Kuroo sits and looks out the train window for a while as you try again, trying desperately to hold in your laugh due to your boyfriend’s cold demeanor.

“...Kuroo? Did you hear me?”

Silence, again. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he bites his lip, twitching in annoyance as you try again.

“Kuroo-”

“I don’t know any ‘Kuroo.’ All I know is baby or Tetsu,” He finally snaps, scoffing and looking at you as if to say ‘unbelievable.’ You can tell he’s playing it cool, but his eyes give away the fact that he’s actually quite hurt- and so does the subtle pout on his lips.

You almost coo as you see your boyfriend acting all grumpy at the use of his last name, immediately giggling and leaning in to hug him despite his protests.

“Y/N, don’t-”

“Awe baby, I was just messing around with you! No need to get all pouty and sassy Tetsu,” You laugh, snuggling into his side.

Kuroo finally stops resisting whenever you say these words, his shoulders instantly relaxing knowing you weren’t mad at him or anything. However, he can’t help but feel slightly even more upset because he genuinely fell for it.

“Yeah, well,” He pretends to wave you off, acting all tough as he looks out the window again. “I knew that.”

“Oh Tetsu-” You grin at his obviously pouting figure and shake your head, “I’m sure you did honey. I’m sure you did.”

——————————— ☁��� ——————————

BOKUTO KOUTARO

“Bokuto, can you come help me move this please?”

At the sound of his last name, Bokuto instantly deflates and starts pouting the minute it sets in. I mean, he doesn’t even give you time to correct your mistake before he’s storming into your room, arms crossed and lips jutted out.

“What did you just say?”

“I said: Bokuto can you come help me move this? It’s really heavy,” You pout up at him only to find your boyfriend is doing the same, his nose scrunched up as his shoulders sagged.

So, it wasn’t a mistake. You actually meant to call him that.

“...Okay.”

There’s an obvious sadness in his voice as he slowly moves to help you, uncharacteristically quiet. The entire time he keeps glancing at you with those big eyes, pleading for you to call him something else. But no- you stick to it and once he’s done helping you, you lean up and give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Bokuto. You’re always so helpful,” You praise him, but it seems to do nothing for his sudden sour mood. Grumbling, he hastily nods and then walks out of the room, a smile appearing on your face as you hear him muttering to himself.

“...Bokuto? Did I do something? Is that why Y/N’s calling me that?”

You follow him a few minutes later and find him on the couch, hugging his knees as he barely pays attention to the TV. He tenses up when you sit beside him, eyes hesitantly glancing at you. He figures that now is when you’re gonna confront him- tell him what he’s done wrong for you to call him Bokuto and not Kou or baby, but instead-

You’re smiling.

“What’s gotten you in such pouty mood, Bokuto?” You ask him, as if you didn’t already know. But you’re waiting for him to break, which looks like it’s gonna be any second if you call him that once more time.

“Baby,” He looks at you as if to say ‘seriously?’ and then hugs his knees closer. “We’ve been dating for too long for you to keep calling me that.”

“What- Bokuto?” You act shocked and Bokuto flinches but sighs.

“Yes. That.”

“But- it’s your name, is it not?”

“Yeah but not the one you should be using,” He suddenly whines, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. “I mean... what happened to Kou? I thought you said I was your baby owl.”

He looks away with all small blush on his cheeks and you decide you can’t take it anymore. Walking over to him, you gently sat down in his lap and pulled him in for hug, planting a loving kiss on his lips before confessing.

“Kou, baby, it was just prank,” You grin, reassuring him, and you feel his mood shift instantly. Bokuto lifts his head up and searches your face for any lies, but once he sees your grin he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“You mean it?” He asks seriously and you nod frantically.

“Of course baby. I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologize, and you swear that you can actually see his hair start to stand up again. While you’re hugging him and apologizing with an endless amount of kisses, Bokuto is chuckling and then he’s back to himself once again.

“I have to admit, you had me pretty good there,” He told you, impressed. You smiled.

“Really? You know usually my pranks don’t work but-”

Bokuto narrowed his eyes. “Ahem. You didn’t let me finish, sweetheart,” He smirked, adjusting you on his lap. “You got me pretty good, yes, but now that just means...I’m gonna get you back even better.”

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

“Sakusa have you read that book I lent you? How did you like it?”

At first, your boyfriend isn’t really sure if you’re talking to him, even though you called his name. But after a few seconds, your words settle in and Sakusa looks over at you to see that you’re staring at him expectantly from the other end of the couch, not at all phased over what you just said.

“It was...good?” It comes out more of a question as he shifts a little uncomfortably, sitting up a little straighter while he continues to stare at you.

“Oh? Just good huh?” You raise an eyebrow and decide to bait him a little more, since his initial reaction didn’t really show anything. “Maybe I should show you some of my notes, Sakusa. You could dig a little deeper- there’s a lot to uncover in those books.”

“...Yeah.”

So it wasn’t an accident. Once again, Sakusa looks over at you but you’re showing no signs of being mad or irritated at him. So then- why did you call his last name- twice?

“Sakusa?” You notice he’s staring and do everything you can to hide your smirk, feigning curiosity as you tilt your head. “Something wrong? Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

It takes a few seconds for him to respond, a small scoff leaving his lips as he does so, but nevertheless Sakusa sits back on the couch and gives you a quiet, “It’s Omi,” while not being able to look you in the eyes.

“...I’m sorry? What was that?”

“I said it’s Omi,” He clears his throat and speaks a little louder, lifting his head just enough to see the little blush on his face. You nearly melt. “You just...you called me Sakusa three times in a row. That’s not my name. To you...it’s Omi. You always call me that.”

You feel like literally awing as your boyfriend shifts shyly, finally admitting that he does like being called that. Not being able to contain your excitement, you squeal and quickly crawl your way over to him, planting yourself in his lap and giving him a sweet kiss.

“Awe, you mean it Omi? I thought you said you didn’t like it when I called you that.”

“Yeah, well,” His cheeks go a shade darker and you can’t stop yourself from grinning at his adorableness. You can tell it took a lot for him to admit it so you decide not to tease him, instead peppering his face with kisses and giggling.

“Well, if it bothers you that much then I’ll stick to calling you Omi. I promise,” You beam at him and Sakusa reluctantly takes your outstretched pinky, intertwining it with his own before brining your hands up and kissing yours.

“Good. You better,” He chuckles. “And...”

“I know, I know. Not a single word to the boys about this.”

“Correct.”

“....”

- “Not even Hinata?”

“Y/N!”

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

MIYA ATSUMU

“Miya-”

“Oh shit.”

The word isn’t even fully out of your lips before Atsumu is freezing up, pausing the movie to look at your surprised face frantically. He instantly turns his body towards you, an apologetic look on his face before you can even blink.

“Babe- whatever yer about to say, I can explain.”

“Miya, what the hell are you talking about?”

You sit up straight and face his panicking figure, genuinely confused by his behavior. “All I said was-”

“Miya. Ya never call me that unless I’m in trouble,” Atsumu says, and while he’s not wrong you’re beginning to wonder why exactly he was freaking out so much.

“Okay...but if I just said it as a prank...and you’re acting this way...” You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “Atsumu, is there anything you wanna tell me?”

He’s visibly nervous as he looks at you, sweat beginning to break on his face. He darts his eyes from you, to his phone, and then back to you, silently contemplating on whether or not he should tell the truth.

“Okay,” Atsumu decides to clear his conscious and finally come clean, hesitantly picking up his phone and unlocking it. “So...ya remember that um, stuff, ya had like three weeks ago? That went missing?”

You paused. “...You mean all of my Yakisoba that you swore you had nothing to do with?”

Atsumu gulped. “Look- babe- I’m not trying to make excuses, okay? But ya gotta understand that I’m a big guy and sometimes when I come home from practice I’m just so hungry that I- AH!”

“You asshat!”

Atsumu is cut off from his confession when you suddenly lunge at him, grabbing a pillow to smack his face as you straddle him and pin him down. “You told me that the damn neighbors dog ate it, Atsumu! Had me all worried at the vet, wondering if they were gonna sue us-”

“Okay, that is an exaggeration, they didn’t even find anythin’-”

“Well yeah! That’s cause you ate it asshole!” Atsumu yelps as you land a practically good blow and quickly grabs your waist to flip you over and reverse the roles.

Now, you’re the one under him, glaring at his sheepish face as he pins your wrists.

“Alright alright! ‘M sorry, okay?! But I was really hungry and yer were bein stingy with yer food-!”

“Stingy-?!” You gasped at his audacity. “Tsumu, I damn near gave you half before you devoured the rest!”

“Well I was a hungry, okay?! Yer can’t blame a man for eatin,” He said, and you huffed as you stared into his clearly non-regretful eyes.

“Oh, I sure can!” You narrow your eyes at him, “You’re gonna replace my Yakisoba as soon as you let me go! And, you’re gonna bake me some brownies, too!”

“I- what- brownies?!”

“Yes! With sprinkles on top!” You shout.

“Sprinkles?! That doesn’t even go together!” Atsumu cried.

“So? You ate my food, Atsumu! And if you want this relationship to survive, you’ll listen carefully and do exactly as I say.”

Later that night, you munched happily on your sprinkle-covered brownies while Atsumu stared bitterly at the finished Yakisoba in front of you. His ramen noodles sat unfinished and cold in front of him, a punishment and a reminder that you never, ever ever steal food from Y/N.

And he definitely learned his lesson.

#hq x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #hq sakusa #hq fluff #hq headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

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

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

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

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

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

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

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

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

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

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

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

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

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

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

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

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

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

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

An Angel was calling you. 

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

Wait...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But something about you made him open up.

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

But.

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

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

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

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

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

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

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

“Hey mami, come here often?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is that pertinent?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook?”

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

Y/N. In person.

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

Right?

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

Wrong. 

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

He forces his body to action.

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

Pause.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.”

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

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

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

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

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

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

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

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

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

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

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

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

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

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

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

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

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

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

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

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

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

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

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

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

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

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

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

So far, no sign of him. 

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

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

And then you hear it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

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

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

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

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

Carpe noctem it is. 

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

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

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

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

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

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

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

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

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your knees.” he commands.  

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

Wow.

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

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

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

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

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

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

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

“Spit for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

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

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

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

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

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do this.”

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

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

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

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

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

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

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

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

“Want some help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

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

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

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

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

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

He finds none. 

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

You inch closer. 

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

You let your lips convey the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[mercy-burning]

No Fun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Everyone knows there’s no fun in friends without benefits. (Inspired by the song Friends Without Benefits by Chloe Collins) Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of male receiving oral sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello! Sorry my scheduling has been all over the place lately, as I’m sure you’re probably tired of hearing about at this point 😅 But, No Fun is finally out!! (It was also a very good way for me to ease myself back into writing after recovering from my cold alsdjflsdkjf) Also, if you don’t follow Chloe on TikTok (or any social, really) you should! She’s super sweet and writes all her songs about Criminal Minds. This one’s my favorite, though! It’s such a vibe, I hope you’ll all give it a listen! 😊❤

***

Her eyes opened of their own accord. No alarm, no ring of the cellphone, no hand on her shoulder accompanied by the voice of one of her co-workers saying they'd finally landed... She liked it that way. Not only because it meant she had that rare peace and quiet first thing in the morning—though that was definitely a perk. It also meant that she was most likely at Spencer's apartment.

In his bed.

In his shirt.

As her eyes adjusted to the golden warmth that beamed through the curtains, she stretched out her arms and legs, knowing full well that he was in the kitchen; He was always in the kitchen, ever the early bird.

Speaking of, the smell of coffee started to permeate into the bedroom, and it comforted her further as she rose into a seated position. In a matter of minutes, the coffee would be ready, and Spencer would be waiting patiently, sipping from his own cup while hers sat untouched at the spot across from him.

Normally, she would get dressed and meet him out there, but upon remembering all the delicious things that happened in that kitchen the night before, she was feeling a little devious.

So she got out of bed and removed her underwear, leaving her in just his shirt, which barely covered her ass. She was going to leave them in the bedroom, but after a split second decision, she ended up striding out into the kitchen with the garment dangling from her fingers.

"Good morning," she sang, standing in front of the kitchen counter. It covered her lower half, so the only indication of her indecent exposure took form of the fabric in her hand.

Spencer was reading something, not bothering to look up as he spoke. "Good morning. Your coffee's how you like it. I thought we could stop at the gas station on the way in to get something to eat."

"Yeah, that's fine," she responded, setting the underwear on the counter and picking up her coffee. "But I was hoping you would eat me instead."

She nonchalantly lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes glanced down at the counter as if to say, Look...

And he did.

The seductive sparkle in his eye at the sight in front of him sent a drip of excitement into her bloodstream that rippled throughout her whole body. It always had.

That's initially what drew her to him in the first place. Yeah, it was common knowledge to anyone that Spencer was intelligent, endearing, and handsome, but it was his flirty side that really got Y/N going. It didn't come out often, if at all— unless he was drunk or with the person of his affections.

Y/N found this out when the team threw him an impromptu birthday party last year. After discovering that he hadn't reminded anyone of his thirtieth birthday, Emily immediately called Penelope back home to start planning, and she looped everyone in before they landed later that night. Y/N herself was kind of disappointed with herself for even fathoming the idea of forgetting her friend's birthday, especially since she'd known him for years and celebrated his birthday with him and their friends before.

So before the party that night, she decided to go out and get him something. Only, she couldn't find anything, and it was on her way back when everyone was wondering where she was that Y/N started to question whether or not she really deserved to be considered his friend.

It didn't stop her from putting on a happy face and celebrating his birthday to the fullest, though— She showed up and hugged him immediately, holding onto him perhaps a little too long before offering to give him anything he wanted as compensation for forgetting his birthday, and his thirtieth at that. Of course, he insisted that she didn't really have to do anything for him, but she knew that was just him being himself.

Nonetheless, the party moved along, and with pretty much everyone out of his apartment after a long night of drinking and cake and celebration, Spencer and Y/N were the only two left, buzzed and sitting a little too close.

After convincing him to let loose and have a little fun on his 'special day', Y/N had managed to get him to help her finish an entire bottle of wine. And he'd been making his way through a few beers as the sun set and the stars came out.

And then he started looking at her weird.

That was the only way she could have described it in her drunken state, but it was certainly true, if only for the fact that it wasn't a look she'd ever seen from him before. His eyes were wide, pupils blown to almost full dilation, and his tongue kept dancing behind his lips like he was tracing out some sort of invisible pattern.

When she confronted him about it, drunkenly giggling and asking why he was looking at her like that, he laughed back and flat-out told her, "Have I ever told you how pretty y'are?" And she didn't even get a chance to respond before he continued. "Y/N, you're really pretty... Like, you're the prettiest woman I-ever seen."

"You're pretty, too, y'know, birthday boy," she laughed, smiling incredibly wide. Her whole body was practically on fire, and it only got hotter when he leaned in and kissed her, hard and sloppy, and with purpose.

They went on that night, stumbling around every square inch of his apartment while mumbling drunken compliments and haphazardly throwing aside their clothes until they woke up the next morning in his bed, naked, hungover, and absolutely shocked by what had happened.

Things at work were significantly more awkward, as to be expected, but as the days went on, the more they started to catch little stolen glances and shared recovered memories of what really happened.

More specifically, Y/N couldn't stop replaying these few sentences in her head, on a loop in between flashes of hands in hair and tongues on skin...

"You said you'd give me anything I wanted, right? What if I want you?"

"Then go ahead... Have me."

...Have me...

They met up in the parking lot one day after work and simultaneously blurted out in their own words how they couldn't stop thinking about what happened and how much they wanted to do it again...

And they did.

That seductive sparkle in his eye was there when he kissed her that first night on his birthday, it was there just before they started making out in the parking lot just a week later, and it was there now as he looked down at her panties on the table and then flitted his gaze up to meet hers.

Y/N's body buzzed with a thrill as Spencer made his way around the kitchen counter and dropped to his knees as she sat on the barstool and spread her legs for him.

***

They were late for work that morning.

To make it inconspicuous, Y/N showed up ten minutes after Spencer did— maybe a little exaggerated, but it didn't raise any suspicions. It might have sucked when as soon as she walked in everyone was on their way out to go to the airstrip, Hotch with his phone in hand and ready to dial her number, but nobody suspected a thing.

Spencer threw a little smirk at her as he passed, and she resisted the urge to smack his ass out of spite.

She would have done it, too, but there were two specific rules they'd set once they decided to regularly sleep together, and one of them was that nothing could happen at work or around their friends. And regardless of how badly they wanted to steal kisses or touches at work, their arrangement meant too much to compromise. Once either rule was broken, their little friends with benefits excursion would be immediately void.

Unfortunately, after a flight that was absolutely laced with their sexual tension and once they'd landed in Minnesota for this latest case, they both shared a look that practically set in stone the undeniable, inevitable truth.

They were obsessed.

The whole ordeal was incredibly exhilarating, already an inevitable outcome when it came to regularly sleeping with a co-worker, but what they weren't counting on was just how thrilling it was. Almost a year into their extracurricular activities and they were spending just about every free moment attached by mouths and hands and limbs. And as time progressed it became increasingly more difficult to keep to themselves, needing to be in proximity to one another constantly.

That's not to say they weren't excellent at handling it, though.

Sure, the burning in their veins at the sight of one another after knowing what it was like to be intimate was excruciating, and being paired together on cases knowing that they couldn't break any rules had them feeling like they were going to drown... But the pay-off after a long period of time with no physical contact was absolutely worth it.

All the secrecy and the holding back made it that much explosive when they finally got a decent moment alone.

Right now they were on their way back from a week-long case in Georgia.

And maybe it was fucked up, but once the team realized it was going to be rather grueling, the first thing Y/N thought was how better her stress relief was going to be when they finally finished. The second she thought it, she briefly glanced over at Spencer and saw that he had the same look on his face.

Even during the jet ride home, they were sitting on opposite sides while everyone slept around them, staring at each other and only breaking eye contact when someone rustled in their sleep.

Grueling images of the things they'd seen in the past week danced between them alongside flashes of all the things they wanted to do to each other as compensation. They heard faint screams and gunshots muffled by the high moans and shouts of each others' names, heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin...

The only word that sat between them as they clamored into Spencer's car and drove off was, "Drive."

It was late. They were exhausted and alert all at the same time. Their bodies were practically on fire. Y/N's leg bounced rapidly as Spencer's fingers tapped the steering wheel with fervor and impatience. And when he knew there would be no one around to pull them over for speeding, he stepped on the gas harder, and their heartbeats picked up right alongside their speed.

Even the walk up to his apartment was laced with impatience, Y/N's leg still bouncing as Spencer unlocked the door.

They rushed through it the second there was a tiny sliver of light from the dim nightlight she knew he kept in the entryway.

And then it was beautiful, heavenly chaos.

The door slammed loudly as Spencer leaned his whole body weight against Y/N, sending her flying towards it. They were drawn together like a magnet to a fridge, a moth to a flame, days of pent-up frustration and tension beginning its firework show right there in his entryway as their mouths clashed together.

No amount of contact was good enough it seemed, because it was just constant movement. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed into each other continuously as they kissed the breath out of each other. Even still, they continued all the way to his bedroom, grunting while bumping into furniture and walls and doorways, but never daring to separate an inch all the same.

"God, I needed you," Spencer whispered once his bedroom door was shut. His hands tugged at her shirt and tried to get the buttons done as he continued. "All fucking week, you were just right there and I couldn't touch you..."

Y/N pressed her mouth to his and started hastily unbuttoning his shirt as well. After a few seconds, he pulled his mouth away and started to speak again, his fingers still trying to get her shirt undone. "I need it bad..."

With a frustrated grunt, Y/N pulled him in closer by the collar of his shirt and hissed into his mouth, "Then shut up and fucking take it..."

Her words kicked him in the ass and shot him forward, sending them flying towards the door once again. She yelped at the sharp pain that came and went as her back hit the wood, but with Spencer's hands finally tearing open her shirt and settling on her bare waist as he practically shoved his tongue down her throat, she couldn't complain.

Both of their shirts came off, and as soon as they hit the floor her hands went to his hair. She tugged on the wavy locks, a soft moan escaping her as he dipped his hands under the back of her bra and worked the clasp. It came off quickly, as it always did, and once it hit the floor he leaned down and gave her breasts all his attention. His tongue swirled around her nipples one my one, littering her skin with kisses in between and reveling in the way she kept tugging on his hair each time he gently tugged a nipple with his teeth.

Eventually, they both couldn't take any more, Y/N pushing his head down while tugging down her slacks and Spencer being glad she did, using his hands to assist her.

Having known for about a year now how heavenly his mouth was when it worked at her wasn't even a fair warning for the intensity of the shudders that soared through her body when his lips made contact with her clit just then. She let out a loud, broken cry of relaxation and relief and pure ecstasy as he practically devoured her.

His tongue was gliding through her with ease, ravening groans erupting from his throat and sending more sharp waves of excitement through Y/N's bloodstream with every passing second. His ministrations were quick and greedy, sloppy yet precise. And when he added his fingers to the mix, she gripped his hair tight and cried out his name, tensing at the sweet, burning stretch they provided.

That only drove him more wild, his tongue flicking over her clit faster while his fingers pumped, curled, and dragged languidly inside of her. He worked to pull every ounce of pleasure from her body, all while squeezing his eyes shut and losing himself in the taste of her, the way her thighs lightly trembled over his face and the desperate clutches of her fingers in his hair...

He wanted all of it. All of her.

He also wanted to hear that sound she made when he was helping her through the peak of her orgasm— a high, dreamy cry that boiled his insides and turned him into an animal.

And there it was, with just three more quick pumps of his fingers. It started off soft, though he knew the second he sucked on her clit and grazed her g-spot with his fingers it would careen higher and louder, right into that perfect pitch that he wished he could hear for eternity. Her thighs shook almost violently around his head, her fingers clawing at his scalp so tight that he felt little pinpricks of pleasure run down the back of his head and through his neck.

Y/N came down soon after, her voice resorting to small whimpers and pants as she tried to push his head away. But it wasn't until she actually tugged his hair up that Spencer finally retreated and got up off the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to take it?" he panted, already missing the warmth of her legs over his face.

She reached down and started toying with his belt, pulling him closer by the leather and throwing him a smirk. "Yeah, but now I wanna take it."

Before she could sink to her knees, though, he stopped her, walking her towards the bed and sitting her down as he finished taking off his pants. "Another time... Right now I need to be inside of you."

The urgency dripping in his voice and through his movements made Y/N burn all over again, and really, who was she to argue? Yeah, maybe she wanted to suck the living soul out of him, but his eagerness to get to the main event gave her the opportunity to treat him tomorrow morning. Spencer was always hard in the morning (at least on the rare occasion that she'd wake up before he did), and the thought of his sleepy groans and whines as she slowly worked his cock with her mouth was more than enough to keep her satisfied until then.

It also made her incredibly wet and ready, which was convenient when he climbed over her and bent her legs back, leaning forward and sinking into her in no time at all.

The sounds that came out of their mouths right then were exceedingly pornographic. It had been too long since their last sexual encounter, and even though they'd been at it plenty of times before, it still felt as intense and fresh as the first few times.

As aforementioned, they were obsessed.

Their song and dance of skink on skin never got old. Time and time again, it was like they'd never touched before, every feeling so intense it was like they were on the top of a rollercoaster that just kept falling and falling with no end in sight.

Every time he snapped his hips forward and and stretched her wide, her insides crumbled apart and gave way to his storm. She embraced his using of her body for pleasure, and he gave her the best orgasms in turn.

As of right now, she was caught between wanting to look down between their bodies to watch him fuck her and laying back to let it happen— take it all in that way and lose herself in the moment.

Though, she settled on the former, just as she always did, because watching Spencer fuck her was always the more exciting option. Especially when he was as urgent as he was now.

She watched with her bottom lip out in a pout as he fucked her, taking notice of how his hands looked gripping her waist and how his stomach tensed with every movement. Her eyes wandered over the planes of his body, and then finally his face. Usually he'd be so focused on the task at hand that his eyes would barely be open, taking in every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and that was exactly the case here. Fluttering eyes, pouty lips, flushed face, hair damp and wild as ever...

It drove her half mad.

"Harder," she demanded, reaching out and pulling him closer by the ass.

Spencer was more than happy to comply, a satisfied huff of laughter coming from him as he leaned down and sharpened his movements. His hips were heavier, pinning Y/N down into the mattress with every thrust forward, consequently drawing a little whimper from her each time.

To take it a step further and complete her request, he leaned back a little and pushed her legs open and wide, spreading her further and pinning her down that way to give his hips more driving force.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them lasted long after that.

Y/N shouted his name into the air, leaning her head back as her body tensed and gave in to his force. And he fucked her through it, his grunts gradually getting louder until his hips pushed into hers one final time, at which point he leaned down and put more of his weight on top of her.

As he filled her with his release, she sighed out, clenching herself around him and reveling in his warmth. Whether it was the warmth inside of her or the warmth he provided by blanketing her body with his own, she was glad for its presence. There was nothing else she'd rather have felt after a hard week at work—or any hard feat, really—than Spencer.

He retracted his warmth once they'd settled, however, removing himself from the bed on shaky limbs to grab wipes on the other side of the room.

And of course, Y/N admired him the whole way, flashing him a devilish wink when he inevitably caught her staring.

***

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[honeypiehotchner]

you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.”

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner songfic #traitor olivia rodrigo #aaron hotchner angst #angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #you will not find a happy ending here #oops

[pepperonijem]

When He Sees Me || Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

Pairing:  Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: um peter might be a little ooc and that’s because i’m writing about my unfortunate crush but i basically just changed his name to peter parker any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental <3 

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it? Catching feelings for your best friend is never easy.

A/N: This fic is sponsored in part by @bitchassbucky, @spiderrpcrker, @shurisneakers, @midnightsunfae, and @blackberrybucky who instead of shutting down my feelings, hyped me up to turn my crush and some of the things that we’ve done into a fic <3 this goes out to anyone who has ever started crushing on their best friend.

Oh God, please don’t walk this way, please don’t wa-

“Oh, hey Peter!” The crack in your voice betrayed your attempt at a casual greeting, despite your efforts to disguise it with a cough. “How’s it-- how’s it hanging?”

“You good?” Peter smiled at you but his eyebrow quirked upwards in concern. “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight?” His concern faded into a wide grin as you nodded in response. Peter gave you a quick goodbye before walking away towards his next class.

As soon as you saw him turn into the classroom, you turned to face your closed locker, letting out a groan before setting your forehead against it. Peter had asked if you were good, and although you nodded, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to give you away. You were very much not good.

A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned to see your friend MJ. “What did Peter do this time?” MJ asked. For the last month, every interaction with Peter -- there have been a lot -- ended this way: a groan of defeat and a few welted lines on your forehead from holding your head against your locker. You turned to give MJ a dirty look, annoyed by the amused smirk on her face.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed, finally lifting your head up to talk to her. You opened your locker as you talked, not wanting to make eye contact with MJ as you confessed your feelings. “He just… smiled… and everything went downhill from there.” You rolled your eyes as MJ laughed. “It’s getting worse, I have no idea how I’m going to get through tonight.”

MJ laid a hand on your shoulder. “Well we’ll all be there,” she offered. “And if it makes you feel better, no one’s even noticed. Just act normal and you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that was the easiest thing to do. But you couldn’t act normal anymore, not with Peter. Not when normal means resting your head against his shoulder every time he makes you laugh. Not when normal means borrowing his clothes when his aunt May tells you to stay the night every time a study session runs too long. Not when normal means wearing the extra sweater he keeps for you because you always forget yours.

Normal was when you didn’t feel butterflies everytime he looked at you, before your curious heart got the better of you and you began to wonder what it might be like to hold his hand. Now, things were just weird. At least for you. Nothing on the surface had changed, no one noticed how your heart rate picked up every time Peter touched you, or how you suddenly felt hot whenever he winked at you. But inside your heart was navigating uncharted territory in your friendship, trying to traipse along the thin line that separated how things have always been and how you suddenly wish things could be.

Pulling your textbook out of your locker, you shut the locker door a just a little bit more aggressively than necessary. MJ gave you a small hug before linking her arm through yours as you walked to your next class.

For the rest of the day, you found it impossible to focus on anything. Instead of taking down notes on George Orwell in English, you found yourself absentmindedly doodling hearts. Everything just reminded you of Peter and your own confusing feelings. Thankfully, you didn’t share any classes with him today, leaving you enough solitude to think about just why you were so frustrated with yourself.

Logically, you knew there was nothing wrong with having a crush on someone. You’ve had plenty of crushes before, a few of which reflected a temporary lapse in judgement on your part. You remember telling Peter about each of them, gushing about the most basic acts of human decency as he rolled his eyes and told you that you deserve someone better, but nevertheless helping you pick up the pieces every time someone broke your heart. That, you realized, was what scared you the most.

If you were to date, and then break up… well who would be there with kind words and your favorite boba when everything fell apart? The thought of losing your best friend over emotions, feelings, left far too much to chance. Was the idea of holding his hand, of hearing him call you his enough to make you risk the friendship that has always been enough for you? It should be enough for you, you reminded yourself. There was too much on the line and not enough guarantee for you to risk it.

With that determination in mind, you steeled yourself for the rest of the day, determined to put your feelings to rest and go back to normal.

Unfortunately, that plan quickly fell through.

You got to the restaurant a half hour late with only a really good nap to blame. You felt bad that your friends were waiting for you, but when you got there, you found an empty spot next to Peter, where your usual order of ramen was waiting and against your will, the butterflies flew rampant. The noodle that hit Peter’s nose as he ate while waving you over made you laugh as you sat down beside him.

“I got you your usual,” Peter explained in between bites. You smiled and thanked him before digging in. Peter had done this for you many times, and you willed your body to fight against the flutter of your heart.

Thankfully, the rest of your dinner was going well, and everyone had plenty of stories to tell. MJ had begun doing more portraits of people in distress and revealed her latest piece -- a portrait of Peter slurping up a noodle only to get a rogue drop of soup in his eye. Ned and Betty were off again, but of course they tried to keep it civil (they were on again by the end of the night) so no one would have to pick sides. Flash teased Peter about the B that he made on his literature exam yesterday over poetry and Peter’s face turned beet red.

“Hey,” Peter began, attempting to defend himself. “I totally could’ve made a perfect score. I was just distracted.” He shrunk down in his seat a little bit, and the rest of you laughed teasingly.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Flash continued. “You’ve been drawing little hearts all over your notes, dude, it’s unsettling.” He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food, swirling his fork around the bowl trying to grab as much noodle as possible.

Across the table, you and MJ made eye contact, a look of surprise between the both of you. You tried to signal her to say something before a weird silence fell on the table, but she was not reading your cues. Thankfully, Peter spoke again.

“H-hearts?” He repeated. “Why would I be drawing hearts on my notes?” Although he tried to play it off, the rise in pitch gave him away. He scrunched his face in exaggeration.

“Actually,” Betty began. “Now that I think about it, you were doing that in Spanish class too.” You glanced over at Peter who looked at you with panic in his eyes. You took a long sip of water, suddenly feeling a layer of sweat form at the back of your neck. “Wonder what that’s about.” She shrugged and turned to Ned asking if he wanted to split a slice of cheesecake with her.

Before Peter had a chance to try to defend himself once again, the waitress appeared. “Are you all ready for the check?” she asked.

“Yeah, but we’re splitting the check,” Flash replied. Betty rolled her eyes in response. “What? Just because I’m rich does not mean I have to share the wealth.”

The waitress nodded in response. As she was leaving Peter called her back. “Oh wait,” he called. “I’ll also be paying for this order,” he gestured to your bowl. She smiled at him and headed for the counter.

“Peter,” you smiled. “I have money, I can pay for myself.” Although Peter usually had to order for you, he didn’t usually pay for you, unless it was a special occasion.

“I know, I just wanted to be nice,” he responded, giving your shoulder a playful nudge. “Plus, you seem like you’ve had a rough week. Every time I see you, you seem to be lost in thought. What’s been on your mind?” The sentence came out casually, but the furrow in his brows revealed how concerned he actually has been. Peter was nothing if not observant, like he could sense things better than most people.

You let out a sigh, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to lie to Peter, but you also didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were thinking about him-- well, your feelings for him. Just when it seemed like he had backed you into a corner, however, the waitress had returned with the checks, and the question left unanswered.

After dinner, the six of you went to Flash’s house to watch a movie. He had a home theater and early access to new movies and he loved to remind everyone of that. Not that any of you minded, especially if it got you free popcorn and a movie out of it. Every week, a different person got to select the movie and today, unfortunately, was MJ’s turn.

You loved her, of course, but you absolutely detested her taste in movies. Mostly because she was a horror junkie, and you were absolutely not. Her last few turns however had been spent making sure you all had seen all of the Shrek movies. But today, she picked a horror film. Something about demons and the like. Peter and Betty cheered at her selection as Flash groaned. You settled into the couch in the back of the room and grabbed a blanket. Ned and Betty sat together on a smaller loveseat, and MJ sat on the floor in front of Flash’s seat, the perfect spot to be able to scare him with a single touch on his leg.

Peter sat down beside you, handing you a tub of popcorn and a soda. He pulled the blanket over his own lap as he sat criss-cross on the couch. You tried not to pay attention to how his leg was brushing against yours under the blanket, instead focusing on the screen as the room went dark.

The movie had just started, but you could already feel yourself tense up in expectation.The music was coming to a crescendo and you knew something was already going to happen. You didn’t realize just how tightly your fists had balled together in your lap till you jumped at the sound of Peter’s soft voice at the shell of your ear. “Are you okay?” He asked.

He tried to hold in a chuckle as you almost bounced the tub of popcorn off your lap. He grabbed it from you and set it to the side. “Look,” he pointed to the screen where the creature’s head had just rotated a full circle as it crawled up the wall in pursuit of the main character. “That thing kinda looks like the spider from that kid’s tv show, but not as creepy.” You let out a laugh, a little louder than you meant, and Ned turned to tell you to shut up.

The small joke was enough to dissipate the anxiety you felt towards the movie, but unfortunately only heightened your feelings about Peter. But he noticed how your fists unclenched and how your shoulders relaxed once you laughed, so he continued to tell you whispered jokes for the rest of the movie. Each time he noticed your body tensing, he tried his best to make you laugh, and god, how could you stop yourself from those butterflies anymore?

At the height of the movie, you found yourself with your hands over your ears, and eyes squeezed shut, unable to even look at the screen or hear a joke. When Peter realized a joke wouldn’t be enough, he slid closer to you and pulled you into his side and you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Before you had a chance to think about the spicy notes of his cologne or the softness of his skin, the sound of a high pitched scream in the movie caused you to jump with a gasp. In response, Peter wrapped his arms around you tight, with a gentle shush.

It was only after the music began to die down that you opened your eyes again, only to find Peter’s eyes fixed on the screen. Now that the worst was over, you no longer had an excuse to be in his embrace the way you were. You began to wiggle your way out of his arms, attracting his attention.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Peter I’m a big kid,” you smiled, teasing. “You don’t have to hold me like a baby.” Peter let out a soft laugh before relaxing his hold on you just a bit.

“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll just hold you like this then.” He began to shift so that your head was on his shoulder, and one of his arms looped under yours, intertwining your fingers. The smile on his face was calm as if this was something the two of you did all the time, but his racing heartbeat reminded you this was something new.

The two of you remained that way for the rest of the movie. By the time the soft music began to play in the credits, you could hear light snoring from everyone else in the room. However, you and Peter made absolutely no efforts to untangle yourselves from each other. It was as if you were worried that once the lights came back on, you would never find yourself like this again, and what a sad idea that was. Normal, would never be enough for you again, not when you know now how much better life could be like this.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the jump scares, or the sureness of his hand in yours, like it’s always belonged there, that gave you the courage to finally break the silence.

“Peter,” you breathed out, lifting your head from his shoulder, but not letting go of his hand.

He turned to you, with a look of concern, afraid of what you might say.

“Kiss me.” The words came out so softly and so quickly that you weren’t sure if you said it at all.

“Finally,” he whispered as his lips fell against yours, softly and slowly. He pulled away after what felt like hours and yet not nearly enough time. His hands reached up to cup your face. “I like you,” he admitted. “So much.”

Suddenly, you felt it. You felt exactly what it must feel like to fly, to let yourself go without worrying about gravity or anything else. The risks were still there, the numbers hadn’t changed, but you knew that no matter what happened next, just having the chance to fly would always be enough.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter #peter parker #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #i don’t know if the read more will work but uh i’ll fix it tomorrow #it’s like 4 am but i couldn’t leave this unfinished

[shinidamachu]

I need some Inuyasha as a great father (more like DILF, amirite?) headcanons, can you help me out?

I'm here to serve!

• It isn’t until they’re happily married for at least one or two years that the possibility of children are brought up.

• At first, they took that time to relearn each other, enjoy their company and make the honeymoon phase last a little long. They did spend three years apart, after all. There’s so much time to make up for, so many catching up to do before they’d even think to throw a kid into the mix. Plus, being a modern woman, Kagome would know how to avoid pregnancy the best her new circumstances allowed and how important that time alone is for a newly-married couple.

• They never actually had the child talk because Kagome just assumed that’s where their relationship would naturally lead to, given her motherly tendencies and Inuyasha’s history of ultimately giving her everything she wants. For his part, Inuyasha knew she wanted to be a mother someday and he'd be lying if he said he never indulged the fantasy of fathering her children. However, he has serious trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that, in reality, Kagome would still be up for it if he were to be the father. He could never dare to ask of her more than she has already given him. Be that as it may, it was not a big deal because it was not a dealbreaker. Nothing was.

• But with time, Kagome would have noticed how good Inuyasha is with Hisui and the Mirsan twins. How his relationship with Shippo had developed from a sibling banter to a makeshift paternal relationship. How people like Shiori and Bunza would look up to him like he was some kind of movie hero. How every kid in the village seemed to adore him despite his grumpy demeanor.

• And Inuyasha would have noticed the way Kagome would look at him whenever he so much as interacted with a child, the way her smell would spike significantly.

• She, of course, was the one to make the first move, jumping him one night, after they had spend the whole day stuck with babysitting the Mirsan children and popping the question.

• Inuyasha was relutant. There was a part of him that was adamant on making her happy and even believed having babies would make him happy too. On the other hand, he was terrified. Terrified of how her body would react to childbirth, of if her spiritual powers would accept his demonic energy. But mostly, about what would happen once the baby was born. The last thing he wanted was for Kagome to go through everything his mother had to go through. Or for another kid to face the same prejudice he did. Besides, he grew up with no father figure whose steps he could follow. He didn’t know how to be a father.

• Kagome assures him that they won’t have a baby until they’re both ready and on the same page, that they have time and that Inuyasha will be a great father.

• Inuyasha believes her.

• Then it is him felling some type of way whenever he sees Kagome around kids. And something deep inside desperately wishes to find out what would their children look like, what would it be like to hold and take care of someone born from their love.

• Finally, he caves.

• Inuyasha wants a big family, considering how lonely his childhood was. Kagome finds it pivotal for their first-born to have a sibling, since she had Sota and their relationship was one of the most important things in her life. That’s why they’d have two children minimum, preferably a boy and a girl. However, giving how dangerous and uncomfortable childbirth can be, especially without the perks the modern era provides, I don’t think they’d have more than three.

• Naturally, Inuyasha relies on Miroku for advice and the latter is more helpful than not. Except for the times Inuyasha asks or says something that makes it way too easy for Miroku to mess with him. Like the time he told Inuyasha that if he doesn’t get Kagome whatever food she craves while pregnant, the baby will be born looking exactly like that food. And Inuyasha believed him.

• And if you thought Inuyasha was protective of Kagome before... oh boy! He’d be almost overbearing, but Kagome would see it as endearing. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, a woman has got to have her privacy. He also becomes more attentive, more gentle, sweeter.

• After their first child is born, Inuyasha gets a makeover of sorts. He’s always borrowing the Fire Rat to Kagome and the baby anyway, so he figured it’d be more practical to just pass the clothes on to them already and get something new for himself.

• It’s white.

• Inuyasha becomes taller, stronger. And often lets Kagome experiment with his hair with braids, top nots... and ponytails.

• Old Myoga is the first one to notice the resemblance. And it’s true. He’s the spitting image of Toga. Former enemies and allies often mistaken him for Toga and Kagome thinks the look on their (and Inuyasha’s) face is hilarious.

• Sesshoumaru does not care for it (I stole this one from @heavenin--hell).

• Inuyasha hates his human nights even more because now his vulnerability also means he might not be able to protect his family as he usually would (Together Changed by @goshinote and @lostinfantasyworlds inspired this one). Plus, the black hair and lack of dog ears confuses the baby, who cries and fusses for a good while until realizing it is, in fact, Inuyasha holding them (this one I saw in an adorable fanart I can’t find).

• But since he needs way less sleeping than humans and he spends the New Moons up anyway, Inuyasha gets a lot of quality time with their infant at night, which allows Kagome to actually get a good night sleep unless the baby is hungry.

• The Beads of Subjugation get dooled and chewed on. A lot.

• A little contest takes place between Kagome and Inuyasha about what the first word of their first child would be, with Kagome going for “dada” and Inuyasha going for “mama.”

• Kagome wins.

• Inuyasha’s fighting style changes. He still says some snarky remarks, but now it’s more to push his opponent‘s buttons down so they would get sloppy than anything else. After all, he has a child to think about and provide for now. He doesn’t have the luxury of gambling with his life anymore. He has a home to come back to and therefore won’t be taking any chances (credit to @born-for-eachother for this one).

• And so he becomes more lethal on the battle field. Pragmatic. Objective. Calculating. Decisive. Cold blooded. Much like... Sesshomaru.

• He had never been more offended on his life than the day Sango pointed this out to him.

• When the kids grow up a bit, Inuyasha and Kagome start to tell them bedtime stories, with the PG version of the story about how the met and defeated Naraku being their favorite.

• Kagome tries to be a reliable and calm narrator while Inuyasha exaggerates the events and the voices, almost always breaking objects of their house in the process.

• After hearing one too many times about the Beads of Subjugation, their child tries to “sit” Inuyasha. Of course it doesn’t work, but he still makes a big deal out of throwing himself on the ground every time they say the word just to hear them laugh.

• The first actual toy Inuyasha buys them is a ball, just like the one he had as a kid, at the same time accomplishing a childhood wish through them and ensuring that they would always have someone to play with.

• Kagome is more protective of their physical state while Inuyasha is more protective of their emotional one (see Fist Fight by @omgitscharlie)

• Inuyasha goes to Totosai and asks him to make a weapon out of one of his fangs to each of their children once they get old enough for it. Not necessarily a sword, just something of their choice and that better fits their personality.

• He would be a just father, doing his best to show no favoritism, treat his children equally and make sure no one felt overlooked or unloved.

• But truth be told, if one of their babies turn out to be a daughter, he would definitelly let her get away with almost anything, no matter how much of a gremlin she is. Daddy’s little girl would have him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

• Life never treated Inuyasha kindly. From a very young age, it was kill or be killed. It wouldn't be too far off for him to think the exact same thing could happen with his kids, therefore he tries to prepare them, to tough them up so they can take it.

• And I believe this sentiment would be significantly amplified with a son, because it would involve the whole “suck it up”, “men don’t cry” and “man of the house” aspect of it. The “it is your duty to protect your mother and sister when I’m gone” too, especially because he couldn’t protect Izayoi himself.

• It’s “tough love”, but it’s love nonetheless. And in the right dose, which I believe Inuyasha manages to nail, it can be very important for one’s development and growth.

• But it’s hard to imagine him being as tough with a daughter. Probably because he sees so much of Kagome on her that the mere idea of seeing her cry simply breaks him.

• Kagome would actually have to step in when it comes to disciplining and saying “no”, because he simply wouldn’t have it in him to do so.

There’s actually a really nice post by @keichanz I reblogged a while ago discussing precisely that, but I can’t find it to save my life (should I start to properly tag my reblogs? No, it’s a lot of work and I’m right not to).

Anyway, that’s all I got for now.

Peace out.

#This ask was actually sitting on my inbox for... #Woof #A while now #And I wish I could say it was a big move on my part to wait and reply exactly on Father's Day #Because I'm just so cool methodic and strategic #But it was sheer dumb luck #LMAO #This was fun by the way #Send me YOURS daddyasha headcanons #Thank you for the patience and for the great ask anon #Inuyasha

[haleigh-sloth]

Do you think hori got more and more vague with endeavor’s physical abuse as the story went on? Like I think an anon said, the most graphic abusive scene we got from him was that one page with todoroki puking and a smack sound effect indicating that endeavor slapped rei off page.

Much later on in chapter 302, I think, when he realized dabi was still training in secret, we see rei on the ground cradling her face and todoroki crying and shouting at endeavor to not “bully mom”. Some endeavor stans say he didn’t hit her but rather that she and shouto were napping and endeavor just came in and started verbally bashing her and rei was just hiding her face because she was scared or something.

The thing is, hori had no problem with explicitly showing shigaraki’s dad slapping and beating the shit out of tomura with a gardening tool, in the face at that, so why is he so vague with endeavor? And especially with rei. We also have yet to see what was going down in todoroki’s private training sessions. What happened that made him puke when he was five? We saw once endeavor holding a kendo bamboo blade, what did he do with it? Attack his son?

I might be exaggerating, but if his physical abuse was more clearly shown, some endeavor delulus wounds exist. Cause, for example, if we hadn’t seen tomura’s dad hitting him in the face with full force, and it was only hinted at, I bet there would be some fans saying that tomura’s abuse wasn’t that bad and his dad kept trying to dissuade him form his hero dream cause at that point it seemed as he most likely didn’t have a quirk.

*sweats nervously*

Ha

Well, yes. But also not really?

CW: Abuse

So—here’s one thing we all need to understand and begrudgingly accept:

Endeavor was retconned.

He was retconned in the sense that his M.O. was backpedaled. When he’s first introduced we are shown that he’s this physically abusive piece of shit who beats his wife and his kids, and has almost no redeeming qualities. And we're led to believe that the entire. fucking. series, but at the same time it's becoming obvious that he's going to be this redeemable person, and that he's slowly coming to terms with what he did and that he is going to have to face his past actions. Which honestly could have worked fine----until the Todofam chapters threw a wrench into that shit. THEN we're suddenly shown that Endeavor actually wasn't this violent, physically abusive piece of shit, but in fact only escalated to get that bad because of his spiraling son and him not being able to face the damage he'd already caused. Basically, the author went back and made it to where his violent actions toward his wife and kid were a reaction to a stressor (Touya's mental health), instead of just leaving him as this abusive piece of shit that he was originally introduced as, making him shoulder less blame--making him less guilty. We were still shown that he was an abusive person toward his oldest son, but it was kind of a big shock to see that he actually managed to have a strong bond with one of his kids in the first place, because as I said--most of the series we're shown Shouto and Natsuo hating him, Rei being terrified of him visiting the hospital, and Fuyumi acknowledging the tension in the house when he was incredibly angry after AM's retirement. All things that happen when you're an abusive POS to your family and they're scared of you or blame you. So seeing him have a son who craved his attention so much to the point that it killed him was kind of a shock. ALTHOUGH, I have to agree with this anon here and say that making it this way does add a certain element of sheer sadness to it. But I digress.

The thing about the retcon is that no amount of backpedaling can erase this

And because THIS ^^^ is canon and undeniably HAPPENED, we are only able to assume that it started here ⬇️⬇️

Endeavor was violent and physically abusive toward his wife. It wasn’t like that from the beginning, but it has to start somewhere. This is the starting point ^^^. This was the breaking point, Touya kept getting burned, and Endeavor lost it on Rei. And I am tired of explaining E-stans away. You don't draw two small children covering their ears and hiding in a different room while listening to the horror of your parents and baby sibling screaming at each other unless you're trying to convey the horror of that situation to readers. I don't consume bad takes so I just recommend that you stay away from them as well. Saves a lot of stress.

People can say what they want, but Endeavor's abuse was not vague. I wouldn't consider the physical aspect of it to be vague either. I think that's just the beauty of the retcon. He wasn't physically abusive from the START, but that doesn't erase the fact that he became physically abusive. But we DO know that from the time Touya's potential disappeared, Endeavor started abusing his family.

Emotionally at first, then it became physical.

The thing you gotta ask yourself is, what is the purpose of this retcon? In my opinion, Hori could have still redeemed Endeavor without retconning him. Not everybody would have liked it, but you can't please everybody. That's just a fact. The retcon wasn't necessary to redeem Endeavor. So in my opinion, and I say this with caution, I think Hori retconned Endeavor to make it more acceptable to integrate him back into the family. Or at least imply it. I think that's the ending Horikoshi is going toward. Not a fan of it, but.....look at the writing. It's got wish fulfillment written all over it. It's not gonna make people happy, but at the end of the day, it's not anybody's story but Horikoshi's. He can do what he wants with it. But no amount of retconning can erase the cold, hard truth:

Now as for Shigaraki's situation being so cut and dry without any vagueness--

Look, I would bet money that Horikoshi has had Shigaraki's story planned out for years. His entire arc is central to everything that BNHA is about. All of BNHA's themes, messages, conflicts, and answers lie in Shigaraki's story. Shigaraki is the best written character in this story for a reason. There's no retconning, and he has been carefully written with, in my opinion, no flaws in his story.

The reason he didn't have a problem showing how horrible it got with Shigaraki is because of those reasons I listed above. His story is the heart of BNHA and Horikoshi isn't gonna sugar coat or hide the tragedy in the story's central arc. Otherwise....the entire story just starts to fall apart and not make sense. You don't know what to believe. It becomes too hard to follow and unenjoyable.

Basically what I'm saying (assuming) is: Shigaraki's story is something Hori has never questioned himself about. He knew where he was going with it, and how. That's why there's none of this vagueness or sugar coating in his arc.

His arc is delivering everything BNHA is about to the readers.

#bnha #bnha asks #anonymous #cw abuse #todofam #todoroki siblings #todoroki touya #boku no hero academia #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #abuse #bnha meta #mha meta

[no-reply95]

I was scrolling through the Beatles topic on Twitter the other day and came across a tweet from Mark Lewisohn referring to a talk he’d given to the Fab4cast podcast on the Get Back sessions and Spring period of 1969. I assumed that it was a recent talk so I gave it a listen but the talk is actually from 2019.

I tend to find Lewisohn’s podcast interviews to be very interesting. He’s obviously got decades worth of Beatle knowledge stored up so you’re almost guaranteed to learn something new or hear an anecdote that you’ve never heard before but more than the factoids he’s accumulated over the years I find his interpretations of the band extremely telling.

The part of the conversation that really caught my attention was when the podcast hosts brought up the fact that John and Paul’s weddings were really close together and wondered if the two events were connected in any way, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that this probably got the biggest reaction out of Lewisohn, the main points of the exchange are outlined below (time stamp 47:12)

Host: “Well also in this period there are two events, the marriages of John and Paul, within 8 days of each other… I read that John wanted to marry on the 14th, two days after Paul’s wedding but couldn’t do it because of legal issues, how much was his [marriage] a response to Paul’s marriage do you think?”

Lewisohn: “I’ve read that people say that it was but never heard John say that it was so there’s no validity to those claims they’re just people assuming that John didn’t want to be outdone by Paul… that’s the kind of writing that annoys me because it becomes part of the fact and it’s some writer thinking that’s what it probably was… Unless someone out there can find a Lennon quote in which he actually says it in which case I stand corrected and I’ll be very happy to do so”

There’s a lot going on in these quotes so I’m gonna break down my thoughts on this further:

The illusion of John’s honesty

What Lewisohn displays here is something I believe is pretty common within the Beatles’ authorship. I believe in Revolution In The Head Ian McDonald referred to John as “truth” and Paul as “beauty” and I think a lot of writers do tend to assign those attributes consistently to John and Paul. Reading (or listening) to the Lennon Remembers interview now, it’s hard to believe at one stage people took what John was saying as fact and never even questioned whether there were emotions or agenda behind what he was saying, despite the contradictions (“Me and Paul stopped writing together in 1962” vs “Me and Paul worked really closely together on Sgt. Pepper”) and because John was so charismatic and would speak openly in interviews and to people he knew about both the good and bad in his life I think people, and in this case Lewisohn, assume that John told us everything of note that happened in his life, which I don’t think is a realistic expectation of anyone, let alone someone as famous as John. I think it’s problematic to take John’s or anyone else’s words, especially when they’re said in public, as the gospel truth because everyone has an agenda and John was no different. I also think it’s unrealistic to believe that John would ever announce that the reason he and Yoko got married when they did was in any way connected to Paul, that would have sullied the sanctity of “John and Yoko TM”, I mean, how can you be the greatest love story ever if the reason you decided to get married was because your musical partner who you may have unresolved romantic feelings for got married? I don’t think John would publicly embarrass Yoko like that or risk undermining the strength of the brand he was trying to create with his new relationship by admitting that Paul’s marriage spurred them on. That Lewisohn is apparently holding out for a lost interview of John stating that Paul was involved in the timing of his marriage to Yoko just sounds pretty far fetched to me.

The timing of John’s wedding in relation to his and Yoko’s divorces

As discussed in this podcast, Paul and Linda got married (pretty unexpectedly I believe) on 12 March 1969 and John and Yoko got married 8 days later (and apparently they wanted it to be sooner) on 20 March 1969. Aside from the extremely close proximity of John and Paul’s weddings it should be noted that John’s divorce from Cynthia was finalised in November 1968 and Yoko’s from Tony Cox was finalised in January 1969.

So why am I bringing up John and Yoko’s divorces? Because it meant that they were free to marry each other from January 1969, there was no longer a legal issue preventing them and if John’s bursting out in song about it, you would assume that they would have started planning their wedding ASAP… but curiously they didn’t. How do we know John and Yoko weren’t planning a wedding before Paul married Linda? Because once Paul was married John and Yoko started scrambling to get married ASAP, suddenly there was a rush and need to be married that hadn’t existed before, John suddenly wanted to marry Yoko on a ferry but they couldn’t be married there, then John wanted to marry Yoko in Paris but they needed to be resident in Paris for a period of time before they could get married there so eventually they settled on Gibraltar as they could get married there at short notice. Clearly there was a sudden need for John and Yoko to get married that didn’t materialise until around March 1969, am I and countless other people (including Paul himself) crazy for assuming that Paul’s wedding impacted John’s sudden desperate need to be married? If it wasn’t Paul’s wedding, what was it?

Authorial interpretation and assumptions

I’m really fascinated by the visceral reaction Lewisohn had to just the suggestion that the timing of John and Yoko’s wedding was connected to Paul and Linda’s. For Lewisohn to state it annoys him was pretty shocking to me because, given what is publicly known about this period and the lack of any other logical reason for John and Yoko’s wedding to be so close to Paul’s and Linda’s, I don’t think it’s bad writing to point out the proximity and suggest that the timing was more than a coincidence.

Based on his reaction, you would assume that Lewisohn would be set against any form of interpretation where the principal in question hadn’t confirmed that the interpretation was in fact correct but that would be an incorrect assumption to make. Some of you may be aware of the Hornsey Road shows Mark Lewisohn was giving in 2019 around the 50th anniversary of Abbey Road. During these shows Lewisohn played a clip from the, now infamous, 4-4-4-2 meeting tape and gave a presentation on the Abbey Road period in the Beatles’ history. One of the points Lewisohn raised during the show was that during the sessions, after the car accident in Scotland, a bed was brought into the studio for Yoko so she (and sometimes John) could rest while work on the album progressed. According to Lewisohn, one morning they turned up to the studio and someone had removed one of the legs from the bed, leaving it with 3 legs *dramatic pause* which was him heavily hinting that he thought Paul broke Yoko’s bed on purpose and then bragged about it on the Ram album by including a song called 3 legs, I’m not going to go into the validity (or lack thereof) of this claim but I find it very interesting that Lewisohn was annoyed about authors suggesting that the timing of John and Yoko’s wedding was connected to Paul and Linda’s but he seems happy to publicly speculate that Paul was sabotaging Yoko’s bed in the studio based on the title of a song that he would release on Ram two years later and nothing else.

Is there any evidence that connects John’s wedding to Paul’s?

I’ve already outlined the suspiciousness of John and Yoko choosing to get married right after Paul, when they had been free to marry for weeks prior but is there any other evidence that either proves that the weddings were connected or is Lewisohn right to deem that suggestion as lacking in validity?

Interestingly there actually is unverified eyewitness testimony that does connect John and Paul’s weddings (something not mentioned by Lewisohn in this podcast). I believe there’s an anecdote from Les Anthony (John’s chauffeur at the time) about him driving John and Yoko around when news of Paul’s wedding suddenly came across the radio, to which John apparently said to Yoko that “we have to get married now”… I couldn’t track down the exact source for that story (if anyone knows the source please let me know) so I’m not sure how credible that anecdote is but, assuming it is accurate, then that would suggest a correlation between John and Paul’s weddings that Lewisohn is adamant doesn’t exist.

Why does this matter?

I do think that this podcast interview could be indicative of a few future concerns I personally have around the way the Beatles discourse will progress in the future. Firstly, this was only a podcast interview so it’s unlikely that when Lewisohn releases the final book in his trilogy that he’ll discuss the weddings in this manner (I.e. although he’s adamant the timing of John’s wedding had nothing to with Paul he failed to offer any sort of explanation regarding why John and Yoko were rushing to get married when they’d had weeks to prepare a wedding).

It’s a slight worry that Lewisohn seems to believe that John announced every single thing that happened in his life of note, especially concerning Paul and Yoko. If John had told us everything of interest about him, surely his Dakota diaries would be the basis of a Netflix series by now and not locked away in a vault (assuming they haven’t already been destroyed). To me, like several authors before him, Lewisohn seems to be mistaking John’s emotional honesty with factual honesty. It didn’t escape my attention that several clips of the Lennon Remembers interview were inserted into this podcast and Lewisohn quotes extensively from it in Tune In as well. There’s nothing wrong with using Lennon Remembers as a source but if you do use it you should be analysing the veracity of what was said as we know that John was in a torched earth mentality at that time and even he himself has said what he said in that interview wasn’t meant as a timeless manifesto. It’s a shame that given his ability of analyse sources Lewisohn has never (to my knowledge) critically analysed Lennon Remembers, given that other sources have been analysed this makes LR a strange omission.

Finally, Lewisohn does tend to make some good insights and does have the ability to read between the lines (I.e. him noting Paul’s tendency to say “we” when in most cases he means himself) but with John I do think he has a bit of a blindspot. Why Lewisohn is happy to speculate without evidence in some cases (3 legs) but he draws the line at the suggestion that John and Paul’s weddings being connected is anyone’s guess. If Lewisohn can turn his attention to reading between the lines with John and the other Beatles too and connecting the dots then we should get a Beatles biography that finally addresses a lot of the issues we cover on this site. However, if we take the approach of only using John and Yoko’s PR to understand the events that transpired before and after the band broke up then the story hasn’t moved much further than 1970 and given all that we know now I think that would be a huge shame.

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #john and paul #mark lewisohn #paul and linda #john and yoko #double wedding #beatles podcasts #given Lewisohn’:s status it’s crucial he doesn’t just dismiss things he doesn’t like as invalid #interpretation is fine as long as it’s correct #i have other podcast thoughts on a separate show #thoughts #long post

[careeralley]

13 Tips to Working with Executive Recruiters

If you’re in a C-suite, senior management, or in a high-demand specialist role and are looking for a new job opportunity, one of your first steps should be to reach out to your existing Executive Recruiter or find one. In fact, you may want to network with several to get the best results. What Executive Search Firm do I use? There are some generalist firms that cover many different industries and others that specialize in certain industries. A google search will find you many different options. However, the best thing to do would be to find a colleague that has had a positive personal experience.  Be careful to steer away from headhunters who are out to fill a monthly quota. There are a handful of executive recruiters who do not work on contingency, collecting a fee for every job filled. These firms tend to use recruitment research techniques and are much more interested in finding the right fit for their client’s work culture. If you’re in a C-suite, senior management, or in a high-demand specialist role and are looking for a new job opportunity, one of your first steps should be to reach out to your existing Executive Recruiter or find one.Click To Tweet Can I reach out to an Executive Recruiter to add my resume for future consideration? Recruiters may create a profile for you and add you to their database if they are impressed with your resume. Don’t expect them to take too much time with you as their main focus is on finding candidates for the current positions they are looking to fill.  Once you find a recruiter, here are 13 tips for working with them: 1. Networking, Networking, Networking Do not overlook this one. Take the time to build a relationship with executive recruiters. If their current search doesn’t land you a new job, maybe their next one will if they have a positive experience and a good relationship with you. Interact with them via LinkedIn, Twitter, and other platforms that they are active on. Stay in touch by reaching out to them via email occasionally. 2. Nice to Meet You If possible try to meet your recruiter in person or at least via a video call. Putting a face to a name obviously makes your interaction more personable. It also increases your chances of being remembered for future positions.  3. Everything is Up to Date Make sure that not only your resume is up to date, but all your social networks--SEO-friendly making you easy to find.  4. Honesty is the Best Policy Most recruiters do background checks so be sure you don’t exaggerate any of your past job experiences, education, credentials, or accomplishments. This shouldn’t have to be said, but always tell the truth during your interviews. If you want to keep a good reputation with your recruiter and their firm you don’t want a black eye from a half-truth or being dishonest.  5. Are you a Good Fit? Do your research about the company that is hiring and carefully consider if you are willing to change jobs, willing to relocate (if applicable), and are a good fit. This eliminates wasting both your and the recruiter’s time. There are also job review sites where you can check employee ratings and feedback. 6. Show Me the Money Recruiters have a salary range to work with, but usually hold back and don’t offer the top salary first thing. Unless they start by letting you know that their offer is a maximum salary, be prepared to negotiate above their first offer. Other things to ask about and possibly negotiate are bonuses,  (signing, monthly, quarterly, annually), moving expenses (if applicable), vacation packages, and other perks.  7. Don’t Oversell Yourself Be sure to not put too many industry buzzwords in your resume and on your LinkedIn profile as this may be perceived as overdoing it. Of course, you want to be professional and use pertinent keywords. Get feedback from colleagues in your industry for their input. 8. Keep References Professional Carefully select the references that you offer. You should only include professional relationships that you have and not family or friends. Are you sure that they will give you a positive reference? Check that you have their current contact details. Reach out to who you list as a reference to prepare them so that they may receive a reference request and thank them ahead of time. 9. Prepare to Impress Be extra careful about not only making a good first impression, but continuing to impress throughout the process by timely communication, the utmost professionalism, and dressing appropriately for in-person or video interviews. 10. To Post or Not to Post Always present yourself on social media knowing that potential future employers may view your past posts. You may need to go back and do an audit to delete prior posts. Any social media posts with red flags can damage your chances of being considered for a position.  11. Pass it On If you are contacted about a position that you’re not interested in, but know of someone who would be a great fit, pass on the referral. You may become a valuable resource for potential referrals which strengthens your relationship with your recruiter. 12. What’s their Process? Executive recruiters have their personal processes. Ask them when you can expect to hear back from them as well as what any follow-up communication and actions look like.  13. Next, Getting the Offer If you are offered an interview or, better yet, a job, that’s great. Be sure to do your own homework before accepting it.  If it’s not a good fit, be sure to let your recruiter know why you are rejecting it. This will help them build a profile for you in their database for what you are looking for. Knock 'em Dead Job Interview: How to Turn Job Interviews Into Job Offers $14.95 $12.99 Using his twenty-five years of experience, New York Times bestselling author Martin Yate has established a set of rules for job interviews that is sure to get you noticed. Buy from Amazon Buy from Walmart We earn a commission if you click this link and make a purchase at no additional cost to you. 01/01/2023 05:35 pm GMT Read the full article