#he was so in love with r it bordered on insanity. for real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aquagustd · 2 years

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doin’ time - PJM

after that…riveting evening spent with Jimin, you think he’d be the perfect candidate to help you with the few things that you don’t know after discovering that the real thing is far better than the books. he only has one rule: you’d have to keep your little arrangement a secret.

⤷ lust for life masterlist

pairing — step bro’s best friend!jimin x nerdy!reader

genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l

word count — 6.5K

play — doin’ time by lana del rey

warnings/tags — summer holiday, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, insecurities, virgin!reader, vaping, manhandling, mouth fetish?, oc lowkey loves money, she’s v h0rny in the part lmao, mentions of masturbation, jimin’s unspoken rizz lmfao, explicit smut — dirty talk, a single spank, oral (m), he teaches oc some stuff 😵‍💫, cum eating, teasing, brief handjob, thigh riding, lots of kisses + one hickey, jimtiddies & biting

note: can be read as a stand-alone !! this jimin 🥴

Puberty. All over again.

Except this time you actually possess the courage to experiment with your own body. You’ve only ever flicked the bean, never really…dared to try and use your fingers. But after that night with Jimin – you’d like to believe he’s the cause – it’s just not enough. Both your hands were occupied, you felt like a cavewoman, hair all messed up as you squirmed and thrashed under the assault of your own fingers.

Imagining Jimin’s lips on your own. His cherry breath mingling with yours as he took you to the heights of pleasure.

One finger wasn’t enough.

Not even two, it seemed.

Three fingers knuckle deep in your own pussy as you lay on your stomach, fingers twisting at the sheets, all that happened between you the other night replaying in your mind like a broken record. Revisiting that moment – when he called your name so sweetly, cumming all over your tummy.

Late that night, it took you nearly two hours to comprehend what had transpired. Bordering insanity that Park Jimin kissed you, nearly fucked you, and more…all in one night. Your first night of intimacy with another person. You’re not sure if you’re happy or sad that he collected your firsts like infinity stones in only half an hour – but you’re one hundred percent sure that teenage you is living her best life right now.

You bring your fingers up to your lips, reminiscing, remembering how soft and plush his lips felt against yours. Tongue moving so expertly while you felt like you were levitating.

You’re glad that he asked for your number and didn’t give you his, since you would’ve lost your mind wondering when or if you should text him. Since it was probably just a one-time thing.

Collapsing on your bed, you bury your face in your pillow, letting out a tiny shriek.

If you don’t empty all this soon, you might explode.

You can’t even bring yourself to concentrate on your books anymore, mind so muddled with Jimin and his unholy tongue.

Hurriedly, you grab your phone from your nightstand, doing mental math just in case it’s a bad time to call Farah right now. But, to your surprise, your best friend answers on the first ring.

“Hey!”

“Oh my God, hiii,” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at her, “where are you?”

She holds up the phone, giving you a good view of what’s behind her. She seems to be in a marketplace, strolling past the stalls with an iced coffee in hand. Crowd chattering behind her.

“Mum and I went shopping.”

“That’s cool. What are you bringing home for me?”

She giggles, bringing the phone up to her face as she whispers, “it’s a surprise…anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, oh,” you blush, suddenly shy as Jimin’s stupid face pops into your head. And then you’re second-guessing. Wondering if you should really tell her what happened. You know she won’t judge you, since she shared her firsts and everything else after that with you.

“What? Tell me!” She shouts from the other end of the line, apologizing to the bald man who happened to be standing a little too close when she yelled.

“Uhm,” you cough, covering half your face with one hand, “you remember Jimin. Well, of course you remember him.”

Her grey eyes go wide, “Jimin? Park Jimin?”

You chuckle nervously, “yeah… the only Jimin we know, Farah.”

“Wait, he’s back?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “yeah…he came for my parents housewarming and—”

“When did he get back?”

“I don’t know, probably last weekend…I think.”

“How long is he staying?”

You snort, fist propped under your cheek, “since when do you care that much about him?”

She tuts, “we studied together, remember? Those two years in Germany.”

“Oh, right. That…totally slipped my mind.” Because it did. Farah, your step brother (who tagged along for a vacation), and his friends all left for two years to complete a business course in Germany over a year ago. But your mother didn’t let you go, of course. You’re still bitter over that.

Jimin had done the same course with them and while they were living it up there, you stayed home and finished your courses here. Missing out all on the fun.

“H-How is he?”

“Uh…he’s good, I guess.”

“Still charming all the girls? God, I used to have the biggest crush on him,” she sighs, eyes a little distant.

That has you raising an eyebrow. Since she never, ever brought up her crush on him, and when you were younger she used to tease you and force you into talking to him and ultimately, embarrass yourself.

“You had a crush on him?”

“Come on, ___. Who didn’t have a crush on Park Jimin? Anyway,” she clears her throat, hair swaying behind her as she weaves through the crowd, “what did you want to tell me?”

The dreamy look in her eyes makes you wonder if her sentiments toward him haven’t changed, and for that reason, you use it as an excuse to not tell her what happened. Not yet, that is.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” you smile, shuffling to the balcony when you hear the crunch of tires rolling into the driveway, “what time is your flight?”

“We’ll reach around 6 in the evening. I got to go, can’t wait to see you tomorrow!”

“Me too!”

“Bye, love you!”

“Love you too.” She ends the call at the right time, otherwise she would’ve witnessed your heart-eyed expression as you watched Jimin step out of his father’s car, wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt and black cap.

Looking…sexy.

You snap away from the balcony door when he looks up, missing the smirk playing on his lips as he greets your father.

Flinging your phone across the room, you scour your wardrobe for a cuter outfit, settling on a cute, white mini skirt and a pink jumper to go over. You know they’re probably here to discuss business with your parents, Jimin maybe came along to hang out with your brother, but you’d love to make your presence known.

As if Jimin would think you’re anywhere else but your parents’ place on a hot summers’ day.

Rushing downstairs, you survey your appearance in the hallway mirror, reapplying your lip gloss, before perching yourself on one of the couches in the lounge. The door to the conference room shuts just as you sit down. You curse – now you’d have to wait ‘til they leave so you can see him.

From your place in the lounge, you can hear the room fill with masculine laughter, your mother’s voice tinkering over theirs. It’s been like this since you were little, but after Jimin left, you didn’t care to make an appearance each time Jimin’s dad would come over to meet his business associates. Younger you was disheartened that he had chosen to complete his schooling abroad, and a major part of you resented your mother. She always prevented you from going out and living your life.

Sure she was just trying to protect you, but now you’re a fully grown adult and her behavior hasn’t changed. Like always, you’d have to search for the hidden motive behind her actions. But your conscience wouldn’t let you do that when it came to her over-protectiveness, since you’d label yourself as ungrateful.

Another quality she ingrained in your mind whenever you would complain about the smallest things.

However, you’re a hypocrite for saying that she hasn’t changed, when you’re none the better.

“What are you doing here?”

Your step brother, Doc, stands with his hands in his pockets at the top of the staircase, inquisitive stare burning into your face.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?” He chuckles, the sound echoing in your home, “I highly doubt that you left your room to come out here and do nothing.”

You level him with an exasperated stare, tucking your feet under your thighs.

“Can say the same for you.”

Busying yourself on your phone, you attempt to avoid his questions by looking away, but he’s merciless, sitting down next to you on the couch with that sickening perfume of his invading your senses.

“I think I know why you’re here.”

Startled, you look up from your phone screen, keeping your face as expressionless as possible.

“Do I need to have a profound reason every single time I step out of my room?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, corner of his mouth quirking up, “yeah, you kinda do.”

Rolling your eyes, you go back to scrolling through your messages when you hear the door to the conference room crack open, your step-father calling your name with his head tilted toward the staircase. You leap to your feet, shuffling around the pillars over to him.

“Oh, you’re here,” he chuckles, hand resting on your shoulder, “your mother and I have something to ask you. Come on.”

When you enter the room, sunlight beaming across the walls, your gaze falls on Jimin immediately, heart twisting in your chest…and another heartbeat thrumming between your legs.

He’s sat next to his father at the other end of the rectangular table, while your mother sits near the projector, wearing a sour expression. As usual.

Your father pulls out one of the grey chairs for you, “take a seat.”

Tentatively, you sit down, wondering why they’re being so formal.

“As you know,” your father begins, fingers slotting together, “Mr. Park’s company is currently undergoing a restructuring process. Planning a relaunch by the end of the year.”

Your eyes shift to Jimin, unable to see his expression since he’s covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“…Yeah.”

“Your mother and I have decided to manage the finance department until Mr. Park is back on track, so we were wondering if—”

“Listen,” your mother interrupts, reaching across the table for your hand, “you don’t have to say yes. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’ll only work four hours a day, Monday to Thursday,” your father informs, shooting a subtle glare, one you don’t miss, in your mother’s direction, “there won’t be much for you to do, since Jimin will be there to split the load.”

You gasp.

Then play off your gasp by laughing.

“Jimin…will be working with me?”

“Yes, dear, you have nothing to worry about. We just thought it would be nice for you to get some experience before you graduate and maybe,” your dad winks, “make some extra cash?”

You were sold when they said you’d be working four hours a day alongside Jimin. But you’d also be getting paid?! Now, this is an offer you can’t refuse.

“We’ll give you some time to—”

“Yes.”

Your mother’s brows shoot up to her hairline, clearly unhappy, “are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“Leave her,” your father beams, smacking his palms together, “at least she’d spend this holiday getting to know the ins and outs, eh? Since you’re joining us next year.”

You snort, “not sure about next year, but I’m perfectly fine working temporarily.”

“Good, your mother will be around to supervise, and we’ll negotiate the rest later,” he grins, nodding in Mr. Park’s direction.

Your palms are clammy, neck a little stiff as you all rise from your seats, Jimin’s dad and your parents’ exchanging formalities while Jimin watches you from behind them, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight, boyish smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you swear you see his head jerk in the direction of the door, eyebrows lifting as he winks.

“We’ll see you on Monday, Ms. ___.”

You throw Mr. Park a quick smile, standing to the side as he and Jimin exit the room. Heartbeat accelerating, you’re trying to come up with an excuse to get Jimin alone. To talk to him. To get a good look at him. Anything.

Jimin falters in his step, hand held over his chest as he turns to your father, “before we go, can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” your father smiles, “___ will take you upstairs to the guest bathroom. ___?”

“O-Oh yeah,” you startle, hands clasped in front of you as you march toward the staircase, “come on.”

Hair at the back of your neck raising, you can’t shake his stare as he follows you around the house. And once the guest bathroom comes into sight, you stop, pointing to its general direction.

“There it i—”

You yelp as you feel your arm being yanked to the left, tossed into your own room with the door slamming behind you. Back pressed into the wall as he towers over you with his hands set on either side of your head.

“Hi.”

You swallow thickly, “hi.”

His gaze rakes down your figure, bottom lip tucked between his teeth – as if stripping you of your clothes with his siren eyes alone. Your blinds are open halfway, illuminating sections of his face which you think makes him look nearly angelic.

“How have you been?”

Fighting the urge to clench your thighs together, you can’t help but notice the sudden rasp to his voice, different compared to how he sounded earlier.

“I’ve been…good.”

He hums, index finger pushing back a chunk of your hair, “have you been thinking of me?”

You lick your lips, so parched.

“Mhm.”

All you can feel is the blood rushing through your veins, pressure pooling in your lower abdomen.

“Have you been thinking of me?”

He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “of course.”

You scoff, “liar.”

His eyebrows furrow, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead.

“You haven’t texted me yet.”

“Oh,” he tuts, ringed fingers caressing the side of your face, “sorry princess. I’ve been busy all week.”

Something in your belly stirs after hearing that pet name – something he used to call you back when you were a child. The position you’re in right now gives it a whole different meaning.

“It’s okay.”

“They’re probably wondering why we’re gone so long,” he husks, cherry breath wafting over your face.

You stand upright, attempting to wiggle out of his hold – because you can’t have any of them banging on your door like the last time. The fear you felt that night when you heard your brother on the other side of the door. His hand flies to your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

So close you can feel his heart thrum against your own chest, just as unsteady as yours.

“You’re not gonna give me a kiss before I go?”

There’s a slight whine in his voice, pouting as he keeps his gaze on your lips. It’s driving you crazy.

You’re doing the same, unable to tear your eyes away from his glossy mouth – trying to remember what they taste like despite having him right here for you to devour all over again.

“Should I…give you a kiss?”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, tongue darting out, “only if you want to.”

You’re breathless, fists pressed to his chest awkwardly but so comfortable at the same time, melting in his embrace.

“Why should I give you a kiss?”

His eyebrows lift, shiny teeth cracking through his smile, “because I know you want to.”

Your clit pulses, core clenching incessantly as he continues to undress you with his sinful gaze. But again, you’re doing the same – wishing you could feel his heated, bare body on yours. That’s all you’ve been thinking about after that night. Since all you saw was his dick. The main part – but there’s so much more you want to see. Want to taste.

“You said you’ve been thinking of me,” he purrs, cupid’s bow grazing your own, having your eyelashes flutter, “what have you been thinking about?”

“What we did…the other night.”

“Yeah? What else?”

Your gaze drops to his lips, thighs tensing when you remember the filthy things he did to you.

“Oh,” he grins, the hand that was on your waist lowering to grab a handful of your ass, “I bet you couldn’t stop thinking of that, huh? I bet you got so needy you couldn’t help but play with that pretty pussy.”

You nod weakly, gasping when he pinches your ass, “mhm.”

“Really?” He laughs wickedly, head cocking to the side, “tell me, how many times did you cum since that night?”

Shaking your head, you mumble out ‘I lost count,’ watching as awe sparks in his eyes, both hands grabbing at your ass now.

“How did you make yourself c—” he groans, eyes falling shut as he inhales a deep breath, pupils blown out once his eyes reopen “—I’m gonna be home all day. Alone. You can come over and maybe…we can talk about that kiss? Hm?”

“Okay,” you smile, palms lying flat against his padded chest, “your parents’ house?”

“No, my apartment. I’ll text you the address, okay?”

Hearing footsteps just outside your door, you send him a panicked look.

“Okay, I think you should go now,” you say begrudgingly, feeling up his chest.

He nods, making a move toward your door, then slowly spinning around to face you again, bending over to leave a peck on your cheek, one that has your whole face heating.

“See you later—” he gestures to your legs with his eyes, tongue wetting his lips “—wear that skirt when you come over.”

“O—kay.”

The door slams behind him as he leaves you in a state of confusion - panties drenched in your own slick.

After five minutes, you stand at the balcony door again to watch as they leave, hearing your phone vibrate on your dresser. Grinning to yourself, you save his number, excitement building as you think of what could happen after you two talk.

Despite how your fingers itch with nerves, your shoulders feel a bit lighter. After finding out that it wasn’t just a one-time thing with Jimin. You don’t know what you expected, but you know it would’ve been incredibly awkward if you just went on with your days, seeing each other now and again whenever he would come over, without addressing what happened that night.

But you know Jimin isn’t that type of guy. He wouldn’t act as if nothing happened, knowing that it was an experience for you since it was your first.

That’s why you’re driving over to his apartment, after mentally and physically preparing yourself for what might happen tonight. Things went so far with you, and it’s not like you’ve been ‘saving yourself’ for marriage or anything like that. You just haven’t found the right guy. Since you’ve been focusing on yourself and your career these past few years.

Maybe Jimin could be the guy you were looking for – the one who would be able to satisfy your needs without wanting anything more.

You’d just have to be careful of that silly crush you had on him in the past.

‘You have reached your destination.’

The parking lot next to his apartment building is packed, so you had to park across the road, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you jog over to the front doors. There’s a small booth to the side of the glass double doors, a burly man wearing uniform sat inside.

You’re wondering why Jimin isn’t staying over at his parents’ house if he’s just down for the holidays. Or maybe he’s not…just down for the holidays. Maybe he has an apartment in this swanky building because he’s choosing to work here. Back home. Forever.

“How can I help you?”

The sulky man sitting inside the booth calls with a slightly annoyed tone, gesturing for you to step closer.

There’s a bunch of buttons behind him, each with a different number tagged next to it.

“I’m…here for Park Jimin.”

He doesn’t blink, pitch black eyes boring into your soul.

“What number?”

“Err—” you pull out your phone from your purse, seeing that Jimin didn’t provide you with a number but just the location of the building. Chuckling sheepishly, you shake your head, “he didn’t give me a number. I’m Park Jimin’s guest.”

Just then, a couple, giggling and skipping, make their way over to the booth, completely disregarding your presence as they lean on the mini counter outside the booth to speak to the guard.

“Buzz us in.”

Surprisingly, a smile splits his face as he spins around and presses one of the buttons with his thumb. A loud beeping sound following the soft whoosh as the glass doors swing open.

You huff, “can you buzz me in?”

His smile has disappeared, lips in a frown

Cursing internally, you shoot Jimin a quick, irritated text.

His reply is instant, and the doors swing open just as he responds. Sending the guard a smug look, you saunter into the building, finding an elevator just behind the reception area. Jimin sends you another text, informing you that his room is on the highest floor. Room 13.

The ritzy interior goes from the chandeliers to the wallpaper down to the carpets. The scent of sandalwood follows you as you pad across the plush floors, coming to an abrupt stop when you find his apartment at the end of the hall, a large window to the corner of his door giving you the perfect view of the city, the sky a pale blue, bleeding into black.

Your attention is brought to the door when you hear shuffling on the other side, gold lettering glinting in the low lighting as the door creaks open. Revealing Jimin, boyish smile tilting one side of his mouth.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you mumble, annoyance replaced with thrill.

He steps to the side of the door, gesturing for you to enter, “come on in. Nice car.”

“Thanks,” you reply, holding up your car keys, “was a birthday gift.”

Hovering about the entrance, you kick off your shoes and wait for him to guide you further into his home. The quaint space so…Jimin. Cosy and warm. You plop down on the white couch he has situated opposite a TV set, curtains drawn, and magazines scattered across the coffee table.

“That’s just for decoration,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head as he adjusts the corners of the magazines to be in line with each other, “do you want anything to eat? Drink?”

“No thanks,” you smile, waiting for him to sit down next to you. But he doesn’t, instead holding your gaze, arms folded.

He’s wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt now, hugging his body in all the right places. His attire complementing the rest of his home.

“I’ll be right back,” he announces, turning on his heel as he disappears around the feature wall painted in a dark, mysterious blue. But what catches your eye is the markings on his neck. The tattoo – breath stalling in your lungs.

A crescent moon. Right at the center of his neck. You need a better look at it. How did you not see it before?

He returns holding a pair of white sandals, dropping it at your feet before sitting down on the couch with his knee brushing yours.

“It’s cold, wear those.”

You’re wearing stockings, the pale pink fabric coming right above your knee, but you slip on the shoes without protest, thanking him.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

You snort, turning to look at him with your hands slotted between your knees, “you invited me over.”

He rubs his bottom lip with his index finger, elbow propped up on the backrest as he laughs.

“Right…we were supposed to talk about what happened,” he sighs, folding one leg under his thigh.

You refocus on the white bow sitting at the hem of your stockings, nodding slowly.

“Listen,” he begins, scooting closer to you so his hand rests on yours, “I’m cool with it if you’re cool with it…but I’m really not in the right mindset for a relationship right now.”

Spluttering, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your lips, the serious expression he’s sporting so hilarious.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” You giggle, holding a hand over your mouth as you watch him join in your laughter.

“Oh,” he snorts, moving away slowly, “I’m an idiot. I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

He gives a one shoulder shrug, poking at the button on his pants, “I just thought that what happened between us that night would…mean something else for you. Since it was your first and all.”

“Jimin,” you snigger, reaching for his hand, “it’s really not that deep. I wasn’t gonna wait for the one to do any of that.”

His lips part in an ‘o,’ eyes going wide.

“I thought you were.”

“No,” you scoff, “what made you think that?”

He rakes a hand through his blond hair, shrugging again, “I guess…I got that idea since you waited so long.”

“I only waited that long because I didn’t want to mess around with any of the idiots on campus," you deadpan, “or worse…Doc’s friends.”

He smirks, “I was Doc’s friend.”

“Well, you’re an exception,” you blurt, seeing his smirk go even wider.

“I’m an exception, how?”

“I-I don’t know,” you mumble, eyes on your stockings again. But you do know, you felt comfortable around him. And you allowed yourself to go that far because you once had a crush on him. At least that’s what you think it is.

He hums, reaching over the armrest to grab his vape and place it between his pink lips, a cloud of airy smoke puffing out of his lips along with that same cherry fragrance, all while holding eye contact. Finally, he releases you from his stare, looking over to the window which has you noticing another tattoo behind his ear – and another on his wrist when he lifts the vape pen up to his mouth again.

“So what you wanna do?”

You know exactly what you wanna do. You want to stick your tongue down his throat and let him fuck you.

“I don’t know.”

He narrows his eyes at you, setting down his vape before patting his thigh twice as he manspreads, crotch jerking upward.

“Come here.”

Your heart sinks to your pussy, beating like a drum.

“T-There?”

He grins, cheeks puffing out as he smiles, “yes, here. On my lap.”

Hesitantly, you leave your bag on the coffee table and move an inch closer to him, heart racing.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” you mutter, resting your hands on his shoulders, “I want to.”

Once you’re sat on his lap, legs resting on either side of his thighs, you move your palms further down his chest sneakily, getting a feel of his toned abs under the thin material of his shirt. You chance a glance at his face, finding his eyes on you – watching intently.

His chest undulates beneath your touch, lips snagged between his teeth before he finally cups the back of your neck and brings your face lower to meet his lips. Your eyes slip shut, moaning into his mouth as he locks your lips with his, tongue swiping out as a silent request. Parting your lips, you feel yourself gush as the wet muscle swirls around your own, shifting on his lap when he cups your ass in one hand, moving his head this way and that to deepen the kiss.

Your lungs burn for air, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the intoxicating taste of his lips, drunk of each graze, each suckle, each nip he gives your lips.

He moves away slightly, and you think you can catch your breath – but his kisses trail downward, you tremble as his tongue darts out to caress that sweet spot under your ear, teeth joining the mix to have you sigh out his name.

All you hear is the loud smacks of his lips against your skin, captured by the delicious sensation. Then you feel his hands come to the front of your blouse, eyes flying open when he begins to undo the buttons from the top.

“Jimin,” you call breathlessly, thoughts dwindling to halt at one. What if he doesn’t like the way your body looks? What if he gets turned off after seeing you naked?

Pushing him back slowly, you expect to find him mad, or annoyed. But there’s none of that, he looks just as crazy as before, bulge pressing into your knee when you sit back. He eyes the sliver of skin poking out from the buttons he had opened, white bra peeking out.

“I’m sorry did I—”

“No, no,” you object, voice small and uncertain, “you’re good. I’m good. I just…don’t—” You struggle with your words, but he nods it off, grabbing your hands to place them back on his chest.

“It’s okay. We’ll just go with what you’re comfortable with, hm? Do you want to stop?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, shaking your head timidly.

His grin is back, eyes sparkling with mischief, “okay, I have an idea.”

Taking hold of your waist, he lifts you swiftly and readjusts your position on his lap. You go willingly, realizing what idea he was talking about when your skirt fans out behind you and his thigh presses into your clit, the sudden pressure having you fall forward onto him.

“That okay?” His voice is gruff, just above a whisper, lips kissing the shell of your ear as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

“Mhm.”

“I want to hear you, princess.”

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he rocks your hips forward with the hold he has on your waist, thigh flexing under your swollen clit.

“Yes.”

“Tell me if I should stop.”

“No,” you whine, leaning back to speak against his lips, “don’t stop. Feels so good.”

“I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to princess,” he husks, teeth snagging on your bottom lip, “you sound so fucking sweet.”

You’re spurred on by the rasp in his voice, capturing his lips in a fervent kiss as you follow his rhythm, grinding your clit against his thigh shamelessly. He tastes every inch of your mouth, guiding your hips with one hand while the other travels up to your neck, tilting your head whichever way he likes as he ravages your mouth.

“So fucking pretty grinding on me like this, have you thought of this, hm? Grinding on my thigh to make yourself cum?”

You shake your head, the idea so fresh and…nasty to you.

“You haven’t? Fuck,” he speaks through gritted teeth, lifting the hem of your skirt up slowly to take a peek under while you’re fucking on his thigh, pussy soaking through your panties and his pants, “does it feel good? I bet it does, you’re fucking dripping. Ruining my pants.”

“Jimin,” you moan, moving upward which has your knee pressing into the side of his clothed cock, hearing him groan as you rut into his thigh.

“Shit,” he growls, eyes half-lidded as he bounces his thigh, the sensation hurling you closer to the edge. You roll your hips faster, clit pressing into his skin deliciously as he buries his face in your neck and cradles you to him, his cock twitching in its confines.

The coil tightens in your lower belly, tumescent clit rubbing up against him as you throw your head back when he sinks his teeth into your flesh, suckling and nipping at the skin just below your collarbone.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you shudder, thighs quaking around him as you slide your hips back and forth, body erupting in a wave of goosebumps.

He bounces his leg faster, fingers buried in your hair as your nipples poke through the thin fabric of your bra, rubbing up against his chest.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum all over my thigh? Hm? Get me nice and messy? Cum for me, princess.”

The euphoric sensations, coupled with his dirty mouth covering yours all tips you over the edge, eyes rolling back as your head lolls forward then back, lips parted in a silent moan – cumming with a trembling sigh. He kisses up the column of your throat, helping you ride out your high before you begin to twitch and quake, wrapping your arms around him to plant another feverish kiss on his doll lips.

He helps you off his lap, fingers pressing into your thigh as he sits up and pulls down the zipper on his pants, taking out his thick, veiny cock. You watch in awe as he spits into his palm, eyebrows furrowed when he begins to stroke his cock at a fast pace, rolling his hand around the tip before sliding back to the base.

“___,” he moans weakly, thumb digging into your calf through your stocking, “let me see that wet pussy.”

You can’t look away from his girthy, weeping cock, licking your lips as you see a translucent pearl bead at the top.

Another thing you’ve been thinking about is how you can return the favor, give him the suck of his life. Of course, you’ve never done if before – but you’ve read enough erotica to know exactly how it goes, right? What could be more detailed than that?

Maybe you can add your own twist to it.

Inhaling a deep breath, you comb your hair over your shoulder and sink down to the floor, gaze latched onto his as you sit between his legs.

“Fuck, you sure?”

You nod, that thick, opiating scent of his a lot stronger from this angle.

“I’m sure.”

He nods, hiding his excitement poorly, “okay—” he jerks forward, resting his sticky hands on his thighs. His cock springs up, hitting his shirt before you wrap your fingers around the base slowly. You watch as he slides the beige rug toward you with his socked foot, gesturing for you stand up so he can place it under your knees.

You wet your lips again, guiding his hot and heavy cock to your mouth as he caresses the back of your head, moving closer to you.

“Don’t take more than you can hand—oh FUCK!”

Jaw unhinging, you wrap your lips around the tip and push forward, gagging when the dark mushroom head hits the back of your throat.

“Princess,” he pants, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, “go easy, okay? You don’t have to take it all. Just…put your mouth on the tip for now, hold it here.”

You grab the base again, lips hovering over the sticky tip, “like this?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Mimicking his movements from earlier, you slide your palm up and down his shaft, lips suctioning around his tip, tongue darting out to flick his frenulum, all while keeping your eyes on him. Heavenly sounds slipping from his lips with each stroke.

“Fucking hell,” his voice strains, gasping as you begin to twist your palm from root to tip, stopping at the area your mouth doesn’t cover, “so fucking good.”

His head hangs from his shoulders, eyes opening a crack.

“Faster.”

Eager to please, you follow his instructions and move your hand faster, bobbing your head over the tip to feel your own spit leak down the sides of your mouth, veins twitching in your hold. You split the tip with your tongue, doing it again and again because you love his reaction, how he can’t help but push his cock further into your mouth by snapping his hips.

Despite the way your jaw begins to burn, you tilt your head to the side and suckle harder, eyes falling shut before you hear a loud whine of your name, tip of his cock pressed into your cheek as he sits at the edge of the couch, expression contorted by pure bliss.

“Gonna cum,” he grits out, fucking your mouth lightly, “where?”

You hold the base with both hands, creating a tight tunnel for him to fuck into as you roll out your tongue and rest the leaking tip there. He grunts, throwing his head back as he flexes his hips rapidly, moaning as thick, hot ropes of cum hit your tongue and throat.

The taste comes after you close your mouth and swallow it all – a little bitter and earthy. But his reaction is worth it, enraptured by the way you drink up his cum.

He pulls you back onto his lap by your elbow, pressing his lips to yours tiredly as you both catch your breath.

“Sure that was your first time?”

You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes despite the way you blush at his words. Scrunching your face up when he goes in to give you an open-mouthed kiss, you move away, hardly enjoying the aftertaste.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

He points down the hallway, “first door on your right.”

On shaky legs, you make your way to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up quickly then gargling your mouth and washing your face – your own reflection scaring you. You only realize that you teared a bit when you see a single streak of mascara on your left cheek.

“In here,” Jimin calls from the kitchen once you leave the bathroom, finding him scooping ice cream into two bowls. “Here.”

He slides one of the dark blue bowls in your direction, pink chunks dotting the lighter pink ice cream.

“Thank you,” you beam, sitting down on one of the stools as he does the same, right next to you.

Silence settles between you, the clank of your spoons hitting your bowls as you finish your dessert being the only sound in the kitchen, along with the refrigerator whirring in the background.

“So what do you think?” He says finally, licking the last bit of ice cream off his spoon.

You turn to him, “what do I think about what?”

“You know,” he winks, fingers dancing across your neck, “having some fun this summer. We are gonna be working together anyway.”

“Oh,” you chuckle, “right.”

You pretend to think…despite having your answer ready and he seems to know you’re only pretending too, grinning devilishly.

“Okay.”

His grin spreads wider, earrings shaking with his head as he nods, “cool…But uhh, you can’t tell anyone. It should be our secret.”

You scoff, “of course I won’t.”

Rising from the stool, you stack his bowl into yours and walk toward the sink – when a loud smack resounds in the kitchen, a stinging sensation rippling in your left ass cheek.

“Hey!” You scold, turning around to throw Jimin a peeved look, even though you liked it. Very much.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exclaims, eyes wide with fake innocence, “did you not like that?”

You clear your throat, rinsing your hands with your back facing him, “I did.”

He’s suddenly behind you, breath hitting your ear.

“I know.”

so so? did you like it ?! please do let me know what you think! i’d love to hear from you ✉️♡

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chihirolovebot · 7 months

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idk if it’s ever been talked abt before but i was suddenly gripped by physicist in the love hotel thoughts like. what would be their ideal??? what would go down???

the love hotel is actually an insane concept but now i can’t help but think about it with physicist (and physouma, of course)

phys in the love hotel .... i dont think ive talked abt it before ? at least not at length . probably bc the love hotel is Slightly Weird to me , even if u hc the characters as adults which i do, there's still like . shinguuji, shirogane and iruma's which are just certified dr freakishness all over.

HOWEVER i think ive said before im a big fan of some of them. i love ouma's for character reasons and bc when i played the game i was a much bigger saiouma shipper than i am now ( not that i dont ship them anymore they just dont take up as much space in my head + i prefer kiiruma lol ) . i loved amami's , kiibo's, harukawa's, and momota's too :3

PHYS THOUGH . ok lets think. lets ponder together. we r those monkeys holding hands and spinning rly fast in a circle. you mentioned with physouma BUT i wanna quickly explore what a canonverse phys kamasutra event would look like, which would be with saihara.

i think it would be one of the events that kinda . border on romantic ? but is never explicit. definitely one of the more wholesome ones that would maybe revolve around them bonding or opening up to each other and ends with some slight physical touch ( which is sort of a big thing for phys ) like them resting their head on saihara's shoulder or them cuddling up in bed together and falling asleep. i think that could be kinda cute :3 as for the 'ideal' saihara would play for phys i can imagine it being maybe a childhood friend or a classmate they've known for a while, so they dont have to do the building blocks of building intimacy or small talk . which makes them anxious.

OKAY PHYSOUMA TIME. claps hands. the 'ideal' ouma would be playing would probably look different, since it's implied a big part of phys's initial attraction to him is trying to solve what makes his brain tick. they're a lot like saihara in that sense , and i feel like their love hotel event would take a similar form to the saiouma event in the game, with ouma playing like a phantom thief and saihara as a detective . very classic. but phys doesn't suit the role of a detective , exactly...

ok angsty thought . it's been mentioned that phys has passed through a few orphanages and foster homes so what if ouma as their ideal was another kid there . one who was super mysterious at first but is implied through phys's dialogue to have gradually opened up, and is now at the point where they have a fully trusting relationship. like phys makes comments on 'i'm so glad you opened up to me eventually' and 'i feel like getting to know you was such a puzzle... but i'm glad i stuck with it in the end! because it was worth it, for you.' AHHGHGHH sticking my head into a drain and screaming so my agony is reverberated throughout the entire street. just . so much emphasis on how phys's ideal for ouma is one where he trusts them entirely and their relationship is based on open and equal communication.

i can also see phys confessing and that being like the central kind of .plot point for lack of a better word. like the whole thing is kinda building up to it and ouma's getting progressively more nervous as he realises what they're getting at. i think he would try to evade it at first , do his normal tricks, but it risks the dream ending because phys's ideal of ouma is one that Doesn't Do That. so he very uncertainly relents and allows them to express how they feel . and at this point he's all I've Made A Big Mistake because its gotten way too emotional and intimate and theyre looking at him for an answer and it feels so real .

would he confess back or let the dream end . i guess it depends on how far in the story we are . sickening as it is. in a non killing game au i think he would confess . i think far enough into the story he also would , knowing that he cant and wont in real life because of what he plans to do in chapter 5 . but who knows ! who knows.

#as u can see i had a normal one abt this #dear venus.#🏚.sleep awake

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uglyshirtsinc · 3 years

Text

AIGHT HERE WE GO BUCKLE UP!! Endermen hybrids Illumina, Purpled, and Ranboo! With a sprinkle of Technodad and Sonboo, a drizzle of Little Brother Purpled and Big Brother Punz, with a side of Illumina and Fruit friendship! Less go! This was meant to be a ramble but literally ended up a fic outline?? Could even be read as a fic if you wanted??? What the hell 6 am me???

Endermen hyrbid are valuable because since they're half human instead of making enderpearls they make eyes of ender, and they respawn like humans do so they're used to farm ender eyes.

Ranboo meets Illumina and Purpled after being kidnapped and separated from his dad at the wee age of eleven meets sixteen year old Illumina and eleven year old Purpled.

He's tossed into a cell with the two of them, Illumina being there to calm the younger two down after being used for the farm. Whenever Illumina is brought back to the cell, he cares for the boys and dotes on them, acting much more worried and clingy that normal. They let him take care of them, knowing that keeping them safe calms him.

They talk about their lives before being taken, Illumina talks about the adventures he and his friend Fruit would go on. The dangerous things they did. He promises the boys to one day show them cool tricks, using the excuse of "the cell is too tiny and someone would get hurt" as to why he can't show them off there, not wanting to tell them the little portions of food he recieves (even less considering he gives most to the boys) has eaten away at his strength.

Purpled talks about his adoptive brother Punz who's just a bit older than Illumina, at age seventeen. How he was a cool mercenary hired to do "super secret" stuff and protect people. He tells them about his trident and tomahawk.

When Ranboo opened up, it gave Illumina his first real sense of hope he's had in a long time. Ran talks about his dad, emperor of the Antarctic Empire and faithful patron of the powerful Blood God. Illumina had heard of the Arctic Empire's hybrid son and after story after story began to believe that Ran really was the prince of the Empire. Ran's father obviously loved him, each story leaving him in tears of either longing or laughter. His father would be searching for them, and he would find them.

Weeks turned to months and nothing changed, until Ran was on the floor screaming in pain and Purpled was hiding in the corner wailing in fear. Illumina could hear cracking, popping, and spotted two hard lumps just next to Ranboo's shoulder blades and realized he wasn't just some Enderman hybrid, but rather a dragon hybrid. When the pain finally subsided and their captors returned to take the two young boys Illumina knew what he had to do.

He didn't know much of Gods and patrons, only what he read while searching the strongholds with Fruit after their latest adventure.

Patrons were messy, being worthy to have one and be a follower was even messier. But within that moment, he didn't care. Thousands of voices in his head was better than having to witness those monsters that held them captive force Ran to cough and gag and wheeze in attempt to get Dragons Breath from the boy. It was worth it to return Purpled to his brother, to see the boys eyes light up the same way they did when Ran said his dad would save them. And for just a moment, Illumina let himself be selfish. It was worth it to get to hold his best friend close, to be strong enough to scale buildings and run from golems they'd messed with. To see the sunrise over a snowy mountain, to show the world he was faster, stronger, and smarter than anyone imagined.

Cutting his hand on a jagged rock sticking from the walls that he had warned the boys about so often, be used his own blood to draw the symbol. When it glows and the world fades, stands before him a towering man with hair as white as snow, wearing the finest attire fit for a king, dressed in gold with everything he wore.

Wordlessly, a deal is made and as their hands shake Illumina is staring into dark, ruby red eyes sparkling with a beast like excitement. The Blood God speaks and tells him "They have been waiting." And Illumina knows what he means.

When the world returns, his ragged and dirty clothes are replaced by the ones he would wear before the monsters took him. A pouch of emeralds hangs from his belt and a familiar black mask covers his nose and mouth. His strength has returned, but at a cost he has yet to find out.

There's no whispers, no cries, no one yelling in his head. There's no insanity blocking his train of thought. No amnesia. He is Illumina.

He wraps himself with the one thin blanket they were allowed, curling up near the gate to keep himself and his clothes covered.

Purpled is first to return and Illumina places a figer over his lips, signaling Purpled to stay quiet. When Ran returns, it takes Illumina less than thirty seconds to have the monstrous man on the ground unconscious. Ran and Purpled watch in awe as he checks the horrid man for anything of value to them. A ring of keys, a pouch of coin, an iron sword, and a map are all Illumina deems worthy.

While his strength has returned, he's mindful of the boys and their weak bodies. He carries Purpled on his back, the violet eyed boy the smallest out of them all.

It takes hours to escape their prison mostly undetected. When they do, Illumina grabs the first horse he can find that's saddled up and tells the boys to hold on as he rides off.

The map was appreciated beyond comprehension. It doesn't take long to find a town and get the boys proper clothing that will survive the journey to the Arctic. Keeping them close and their heads down they get what they need tools wise and leave before the sun can even set.

It's hard, telling Purpled that he'll have to wait even longer to see his brother, but promises once they return Ranboo home that Punz can come there to take him home. If Illumina must admit, he chooses Technoblade first because once it hits the news of the princes return and Illumina's name is spread, he hopes Fruit will come and find him, even if they have to meet in the middle.

Throughout the terror and pain, they push through. From the nights they got separated, Purpled clinging to Ran and assuring the dragon hybrid Illumina will find them, fighting off zombies when Ran couldn't stand straight to hold a sword. The relief when Illumina scoops them both into his arms and holds then tighter than before.

With hunters hot on their tail they can't afford to stop and it takes four months itself to reach the borders between the Arctic Empire and whatever land they found themselves in.

Ran's wings have grown in, one a dark, scaley black with brilliant green in the folds between each bone. The other is a is white and reminds Illumina of a jellyfish, bits and tassles hanging from the wing giving it a much more fragile, paper thin appearance. Both are incredibly strong, despite their looks, and it's often the intimidation factor the two wings bring that gets them out of sticky situations.

A year has passed since they've been held in captivity, Illumina now seventeen and the boys twelve.

Illumina buys the cheapest tickets to the Empire, having to hold Ran's hand to keep him from teleporting ahead in excitement. He cries multiple times, the feeling of finally being free and so close to home hitting him like a truck. Illumina sees the excitement on Purpleds face, knowing after Ran he gets his family too.

They arrive on the island and immediately Ranboo is dragging them the way to the inner walls. Claiming to know his home like the back of his hand. Passing by a few guards, Purpled asks why they don't just tell the guards they have the prince.

"The guards were the whole reason Ranboo ended up where he was, plus they could try killing us immediately thinking we took Ran. I can't risk putting you two in any more danger." Is the reply he gets.

They teleport to the other side of the walls easily, walking to the other, and teleporting. This repeats for two days till they reach the inner most wall. Techno stands on a platform in the town center, his expression showing no emotion and stance as proper as ever. Just watching him stand so straight makes Illumina's back ache.

Ranboo sobs on the spot and before he can call for his father and rush forward a hand is placed on Illumina's shoulder with a harsh grip.

The guard asks who they are, saying they most definitely are not meant to be there, and within that moment a rage so heavy it hits Illumina like a tidal wave.

A year of torture and pain, months of walking and risking his life to get here and right as he can reach it someone stops him. Illumina barely registers it before the boys jump back screaming and he's pulled his sword out to hit the other man.

He faintly hears cries of "Harvey!" As more people rush towards them. He can only focus on his blade pressing against the man, Harvey's, sword and the deep laughter filling his mind.

"It seems you've finally been broken into." The Blood God thinks aloud.

He yells for Ran to run to his dad who's being ushered of stage, his speech being cut short.

Ran looks between his father who has yet to notice him and then back to Illumina who's risked so much for him. To Purpled, who looks horrified and is trying his hardest to pull back Illumina.

And he chooses them.

Jumping between Illumina and Tapl he unfurls his large wings and yells out with a slightly staticy voice "Stop!"

And it's as if the world has stopped, the Blood God no longer speaking in Illumina's mind, Purpled can sag his shoulders in relief, and all eyes are on them.

He looks into Tapl's heterochromatic eyes and in a voice barely above a whisper says "Stop attacking my family."

Tapl steps back, the other guards step back. All can easily recognize the missing Prince, from the two-toned hair to the sparkling eyes only he possesses.

His name is breathed out and demands attention. Ranboo turns to gaze at his father from across the short distance and it's real.

They meet in the middle and Ran holds his father like a scared child, and Techno allows himself to crumble and cry. He cries for the child thought to be dead, stolen from him by those he trusted. He cries for the year and months he's spent separated from him. They cry together, and tears of pent up pain turn to tears of happiness. His grandfather and uncles appear soon enough, he's wrapped in hugs so tight and a pair of wings so warm he could fall asleep.

Purpled and Illumina and thanked for bringing him back, and all Illumina asks is for them to help them find their homes. A message is sent far and wide of Purpled's reappearance and it takes less than a month for a blonde boy, fresh i to adulthood to come crashing through the castle doors and Purpled to find himself wrapped in his big brothers arms once more.

Punz sobs so loudly it's heard from across the palace, clinging to his baby brother and cradling him like a baby.

You'd think after the royal family just about got on their knees to thank him, Illumina would be used to it and stop being so embarrassed, but something about seeing Purpled light up like he's dreamed of seeing the boy do and finally getting to see with his own two eyes the brother he talked about makes him very thankful for the mask there to hide his flushed cheeks.

Ranboo and Purpled aren't ready to let go, so Punz stays with his brother in the castle for awhile.

Illumina is asked thousands and thousands of questions, where they were taken, how they escaped, etcetera.

He takes Techno aside and confesses the deal he made in return for their freedom. He confesses he has yet to know what he's given up to the Patron and his fears. He confesses that He couldn't bare the thought of young Purpled loosing his hope and being raised in a place like that, Ranboo being hurt worse and worse for bottles of acidic breath.

He apologizes for being selfish and wanting to find his family.

And for the first time in forever, he's being held in the safety of a warm hug. He gets to cry and be comforted, he gets to be weak.

It takes longer, but one day new face appears and after four years he breaths in that ridiculously sweet scent of green apples and sweet fruits that Fruit Berries always had. He hugs his friend once again.

They show the boys their tricks, as Illumina promised. They watch them do stupidly dangerous things that make Phil, Techno, and Wilbur flinch and jump to catch the two seventeen year olds, always groaning in faux annoyance watching them land safely, Phil claiming this'll give him a heart attack and Wilbue and Techno agreeing their stupid (while impressive) actions are gonna be bad influences on their sons. Wilbur calls it quits after they manage to drag Punz in, the mercenary dueling the two of them and trying to see whether strength or agility are better. Purpled is torn between cheering for either family member and just yells words of encouragement a lot.

For once in a long long time, they're safe.

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

Addicted To You

Part VI: Hold On Loosely

Summary/Author’s Note: ITS BEEN SO LONG. I MISSED FRANKIE SO MUCH. also. Holy shit, I love you guys. Part I -- has been my first fic to reach 500+ notes and that is just bananas to me and also wild that it was Frankie that did it. He deserves all of the love.

So, for those who have seen the movie know what is about to happen. But it might not be in the way you think. We get a little bit more Reader and Pope interaction and someone mentioned wondering about her relationship with Benny and I was like Oh perfect timing for this then...Enjoy. Gif credit to @pascalplease

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pope’s Sister!Reader Word Count: 4.1k Warnings/Rating: R/18+ Language, TOM (yeah he moved up), No one fucking listening to Frankie, Frustration, Intense situations, FUCKING murder, pining/longing, getting slightly turned on by Frankie piloting again--don’t lie we all do it, Frankie distress, blood/injuries

Part I * Part II * Part III * Part IV * Part V (bold means smut**)

[MASTERLIST]

“What’s my name?!” he yelled over the wind of the helicopter behind him.

“I-I don’t know,” She hugged her own body, clutching the duffel bag to her chest and looked at him with uncertainty. The wind blew her dark hair around her face and she made it a point to put herself between her younger brother and the man in front of her.

“Your buddy back there--” he swung his arm around and pointed. “What’s his name?” She shook her head and he raised an eyebrow. “I can just go ask him!”

“I said I don’t know!”

“Now,” he touched her arm and she had to fight not to shrug him off. He dipped his head and his tone was condescending. “When you two finally had sex--and you rolled over and said, ‘what’s your real name’--what’d he say?”

“That never happened!” She shrugged him off then and snarled at him. “He told me you served together...and that you were honest.”

“Why’d he say that?” Tom leaned back in mild surprise.

“Because I asked if he trusted you.”

“Why?”

“I was worried about you cheating him…”

The chopper had landed on the Peruvian border just like Pope had promised. They had dropped off the informant and her brother and although you couldn’t hear what was being said, you could tell by Tom’s dramatic body language and the disgust on her face that it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. Your brother handed her their cut of the money and touched her face tenderly as she held onto his arm and they said their goodbyes.

Tom stormed back onto the helicopter and sat down, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. You couldn’t help but think that he reminded you more and more of a child throwing a tantrum instead of a hardened military veteran leading a mission. It was as if he knew you were staring because he opened his eyes and looked at you. You averted your gaze quickly.

Pope cleared the threshold of the copter and took Benny’s seat as the younger man went up to take his shift with Frankie in the cockpit. Your brother put his headset on and opened his arm so you could lean against him and hug his side.

“You liked her, didn’t you?” you asked him, looking up with your head on his chest.

“I’m just glad she’s safe.” He said vaguely and you knew not to push the subject. He rubbed his hand up and down over your arm as if to warm you up and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“She’s lying,” Tom’s voice crackled through the coms on the headsets and both you and Pope looked at him.

“No, she’s not.” Pope said firmly and glared at the other man.

“You know what we should have done?” Tom let his thought remain unfinished and you felt your brother tense under your arms. Your stomach dropped as you realized what Tom meant. Before either of you could say anything, Will spoke up, always the voice of reason.

“That’s one you wouldn’t come back from, brother,” he said. He was leaning back against a few of the duffel bags with his arm propped up to keep his side un-strained.

The four of you were quiet for a long time, each mulling over Tom’s words in your own way as the chopper whirred around you rhythmically. The dark sky was crystal clear and you watched as the city below you slowly started to disappear and give way to the dark tops of the trees.

“You still doing okay?” Pope asked and you nodded.

“I’m exhausted,” you said, trying your best to stifle a yawn with his shirt. “But I’m worried if I sleep I’m going to wake back up in that mansion.” It was the first time you had admitted it out loud, but, however ridiculous, it was the truth. Every time you closed your eyes, it was as if you were back in that room, tied to that chair. The darkness that enveloped you wasn’t from sleep, it was the goddamn blindfold being put back over your eyes and it made your heart start racing as panic built in your chest.

“Hey,” Pope said, dipping his head to look at you. “You know I was going to find you no matter what, right?” He gave you another squeeze. “I wasn’t leaving this fucking jungle without my little sister.”

You released a heavy breath and laid your head back against your shoulder, smiling slightly and forcing your mind to remember that you really were safe. Before you could start to drift off, you opened your eyes and leaned back enough to look at him. “If I promise to try and sleep, will you go check on Frankie?”

Pope chuckled and rolled his eyes before succumbing to your request. “Yes. You rest and I will go check on Fish.” As he got up, he shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and tossed it over you before moving towards the cockpit.

"The weight drags when we get into higher altitudes so I want to keep it under 5,000 feet until we hit the Andes. We'll hit the ocean in four hours." Frankie's voice came through the com on your headset and you suddenly felt better. Tom's voice came through confirming that they had heard him and understood.

Four hours. Four hours and you would be headed home. After everything, it seemed like such a small amount of time and with Frankie at the helm, there was nothing to worry about.

When you woke up, it was because you were shivering. The main hull of the helicopter had dropped a considerable amount as it flew through the night and started to rise in altitude the closer it got to the Andes. Your brother was still gone but his jacket was pooled in your lap where it had slipped down off your chest. Both of the Miller brothers were sleeping peacefully and you were glad that Will had finally managed to get comfortable.

You sat up and slipped your headset back on so you could hear what they were saying. Standing up and stepping into the cockpit, the view out of the front of the aircraft was breathtaking. The mountains were huge, rocky crags that were covered in bright, white snow that reflected the sun off of its smooth surface.

"I'm gonna try and head for the two peaks I saw on the map. If we can aim for that valley it will be easier," Frankie said.

"Roger," Tom replied and both men looked up as you stepped over the threshold and put your hand on Frankie's shoulder.

"Hey, you," he said quietly, giving a small smile as you gave his arm a squeeze.

"It's beautiful," you said, clearing the sleep from your voice and nodding ahead of you. There was a clear divide between the lush, green trees on the mountains below and the drastic change in altitude that allowed for the snow to accumulate.

"It is," Frankie nodded, reaching forward and flipping up a small switch before putting both hands back on the joy stick. "You finally rest?"

"A little," you said. You pulled your headset down to rest on the base of your neck so you could lean forward and kiss his cheek gently. He kept his eyes ahead but the action made him smile, making the small lines at the edge of his eyes crinkle.

"Can you cut the domestic bullshit please?" Tom said, gruffly. "How steep do you think that is?" He pointed to the nearest peak and Frankie looked at him sternly.

"It's about 11,000 feet. We can't make that. I gotta find another way." Frankie shook his head and readjusted his grip on the controls.

"That's the quickest way to the ocean from here. You should go for it."

Both you and the man to your left looked at Tom in surprise and annoyance. Who was he to call the shots like this? This wasn't a matter of choice, this was a matter of if something was possible or not. You put your hand on Frankie's shoulder as the helicopter started to rise up the side of the mountain.

Frankie dipped his head to look up through the windshield, glancing down at all of the controls and watching as the lights started to flash in warning. You looked over your shoulder as Pope came up to stand behind you and watch what was happening.

"Alright, baby," Frankie said softly, talking to the aircraft. "Alright, baby, come on now."

He caressed the controls like he had caressed you. His fingers were familiar with them, what made them tick, and how best to move each dial and joystick. Frankie had always flown with a meticulous care that never failed to impress you--it was his favorite thing in the world. His heart lived in the sky and you loved that about him. A loud and rapid beeping drew you from your thoughts as the control panel started blinking red and orange.

"We're redlining man," Pope spoke up behind you as he pointed to the sensors.

"It's close though," Frankie grit his teeth and cursed under his breath. "It's too much weight. It's too much fucking weight. We're never going to make it."

"What does that mean?" Tom asked, sternly.

"It means we're losing fucking money."

"You wanna leave 50 million dollars in the middle of the jungle?"

"You wanna get to the ocean?" Frankie snapped finally, his voice not leaving any room for argument from Tom. The other man glared at him for a moment before looking over his shoulder to address Pope.

"Alright, go do it."

The idea that Tom controlled what he imagined to be the fate of the money, but in reality it was all of your lives, was complete insanity to you--especially because he seemed to be so flippant about the importance of the latter. You looked over your shoulder as your brother lowered the hatch on the back of the aircraft and a bitterly cold wind filled the cabin. The Miller brothers started shoving duffel bags filled with money out into a free fall down to the snow covered landscape of the Andes.

The immediate beeping of the control panel quieted down and Frankie gave an approving nod. “That's feeling better.” He dipped his head lower, leaning forward in his chair as if the movement would help the craft in its painfully slow ascend over the mountains. “Come on. Come on.”

You held your breath as Frankie crested you over the top of the mountain and, just like he promised, there was the ocean. The sun glittered off the water as it rose in the sky and you felt a sense of relief that was comparable to how you felt when Frankie had cut you loose from your bindings in the mansion. Both times he had brought you a sense of safety that made your heart stutter against your ribs. Then the beeping came back. The aircraft paused for a brief moment before it dropped into a free fall.

Your ass hit the metal floor hard and your stomach twisted into knots like you were on a roller coaster. Santiago’s arm wrapped around your waist and hauled you up against him as the copter shook and the metal screamed, alarms going off from multiple places on the dashboard.

“What the fuck are you doing Catfish!?” Will yelled as he gripped the handle above his head and put a hand over the bullet wound on his side.

Frankie’s voice came through the headset, calmer than he most likely felt. ”One of the gear boxes is blown--I don't want to go into a spin.” You all continued to fall in the air down the side of the mountain and his voice became strained as he gripped the joystick and tried to balance it out. “We might be in trouble here. I'm losing altitude--we should land. We should land now.”

“Crash land here we all die!” Tom yelled, looking at his pilot with wide eyes.

“I'm trying to get her back to flat--”

“Prepare for a hard landing!” Tom barked behind at the rest of you.

Frankie flew back down over the canopy of the jungle, the snow giving way to the lush green of the treetops as he tried to maneuver towards the village that you all had seen during your first initial climb. Benny leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as he gripped the handle closest to him. You could feel your brother’s heart hammering against your back, but on the outside he remained calm for the sake of the rest of his crew.

“I can't land this with the drop bag under us. We should lose the money and maybe we don't die.” Frankie turned and looked at Tom. The man glared at him but remained quiet. The fact that now, looking certain death in the eyes, Tom decided to shut his mouth, pissed you off. And apparently, it did Frankie as well because without Tom’s permission he looked over his shoulder and yelled over his mic on his headset. “LOSE THE MONEY OR WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

“Fuck this,” you mumbled as you pulled Santiago’s arm from around you and scrambled to your feet.

You had been on flights with Frankie enough times that you knew what the external load release looked like. It was the only fucking leaver on the wall, after all. You leaned over Benny and grabbed the red handle and yanked it down. The cargo doors in the floor opened slowly but the canvas net bag full of duffel bags stayed securely attached to the bottom of the helicopter.

“Frankie! It’s not working!” You called out to him and he glanced back at you again.

“There's a manual override on the cargo hook!” His voice was full of worry as he told you to stop. “Let Benny do it--fuck!”

He cursed, watching as you ignored him and leaned over the open door to find the manual override. The wind from the blades and the altitude whipped your hair against your face and you grabbed onto the rope, feeling for a trigger mechanism of some kind. You cursed as black smoke billowed from the top of the aircraft and obscured your vision. The giant metal release was on the other side of the net and was way out of your reach.

“Spot me!” You turned and yelled at Benny as he fell to his knees beside you and you ripped off your headset.

Benny nodded and helped you lower yourself through the hatch and onto the rope. He gripped your arm as you extended your leg and landed a firm kick with your booth onto the latch. When the bag fell, the helicopter gave a jolt as the weight shifted and Benny toppled through the hatch with you. You screamed as you heard Pope call your name and you looked up to see that the only thing that connected you to the copter was Benny’s grip.

“Benny!” Will lunged for his brother and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. The ground was coming closer and closer as Frankie tried to level out the craft and land it in the middle of the field.

“I can’t hold us both!” Benny yelled back at the blond. “We gotta jump!”

“No!” Pope reached through the hole in the floor but Benny was right. He didn’t give them any time to argue as he let go of the edge of the hatch and the both of you dropped the last twenty or so feet to the ground.

You hit the ground so hard it knocked the wind from your chest. Bits of dirt flew into your mouth as you gasped and covered your face with your arm. As the helicopter touched down, dirt and debris whipped around in the air and you squinted to try and see through it all. The blade on the tail caught the dirt and the whole craft jerked sideways as huge chunks of metal flew directly toward you and Benny.

“Get down!” He grabbed you and shoved you back down onto the ground covering you with his body as it continued to spin and jerk. The metal groaned, the blades squealed and all you could think of was if Frankie was still in control of it or if you were all just holding your breath and waiting for it to be over.

Black smoke and chunks of upturned earth continued to fly long after the craft came to a stop but the blades still slowly continued to turn. Benny moved his body off of yours and helped you stand as you both took off running towards the wreckage.

“Santi!” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

“Here!” Your brother called back as Will popped the door open and they both started to climb up out of the sideways craft. “We’re fine!”

“Fish!” Benny yelled as he got to the front and your heart stopped. Both Frankie and Tom were not moving as fast as Pope and Will. The glass of the windshield was shattered, but still hanging in the frame and Benny quickly raised his knee and kicked it free in giant sheets.

Tom crawled out onto the grass and coughed, fresh blood coming from an abrasion on his eyebrow. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Help Fish.”

As soon as Tom was out of the way, Benny got down and leaned in, grabbing the other man by the forearms and hauling him out onto the ground.

“Frankie,” you breathed, running the rest of the way to him. Benny moved to the side as you approached and you threw yours arms around him tightly.

Frankie squeezed you tightly, before leaning back to hold you at arm's length. He dipped his head to look you in the eyes as he gripped your upper arms and shook you slightly. “What you thinking--what the fuck were you thinking?!”

You watched as blood slowly dripped down a fresh, large gash on Frankie’s upper cheek, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. He couldn’t look away from you. His eyes were wild and his chest was heaving and even though his words were harsh, his tone didn’t hold any anger--it held fear. Your eyes burned and your chest felt tight, and the moment he saw it reflected on your face, his resolve crumbled and he pulled you back against his chest.

“You scared the shit out of me, baby,” He confessed as he pressed his lips to the top of your head and shut his eyes tightly. “Fuck.” He shook his head and looked up at the man standing behind you. “Thanks, Ben.”

Benny nodded as he helped Will jump from the door of the helicopter and Pope crawled out behind him, with his rifle clutched in his hand. He started tossing gear down to the ground and they passed around backpacks and guns. Frankie let you go reluctantly as Pope hopped down to the ground and handed him a new bulletproof vest.

“They’re gettin’ into the fucking net,” Tom cursed and the rest of you looked up to watch as people from the nearby village had flooded the site where the bag had dropped. Sure enough, they were using tools and machetes to rip through the thick ropes of the drop net and get into the duffel bags.

”What’s the plan here?” Pope said, propping his rifle on his arm and looking around.

“We’re getting that money back over the mountain and to the ocean,” Tom said, fastening his vest and grabbing his own weapon. “Benny, cover us from that treeline there.” He pointed to the right. “Fish, I want you at that vantage point over there.” He pointed to the left and then continued. “That’s cocaine they’re growing, so they could have guns already trained on us from those watchtowers over there.”

“We got working coms?” Will asked and Tom shook his head.

“No, we’ll use hand signals. Pope and I will get out there and look as peaceful as we can--we’ll signal when we think it's secure.” Tom looked to each of them to make sure they understood before nodding once. “Move out.”

As they all started to move in their assigned directions, Frankie moved his rifle to one hand, so he could take yours with his other. “You’re coming with me.”

You didn’t argue, not wanting to leave his side regardless. You desperately wanted to inspect the cut on his face, but you knew while he was tasked with watching the back of Pope and Tom, Frankie wouldn’t dare think about himself. You could ask, but he wouldn’t let you, so what was the point? He moved you both up the hill and squatted low into the tall grasses of the field, pressing his right eye to his scope for a minute to make sure he had a shot lined up if he needed it.

As you both watched the retreating forms of Tom and Pope walk towards the farmers, Frankie glanced at you. “Are you hurt?”

“Scratches mainly,” you shook your head and looked down at your palms and arms. “That’s it. You’re bleeding, though.” You nodded towards his face.

“I’m fine,” he said stubbornly, like you knew he would. “Don’t do anything like that again.” His voice was flat and you fought the urge to snap back at him. The adrenaline had been high for you both, the last thing you needed was to fight with the man you currently needed most.

“We both are going to do what it takes to get home--”

“You don’t have to prove to anyone that you’re a badass--”

“Don’t pull that macho bullshit with me--”

The two of you glared at one another and then his face broke into a small grin. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something about you being stubborn before looking back through his scope. You knew he was just worried. Was it reckless to do what you did on the drop net? Absolutely. But this entire trip had been nothing but the five of them risking their lives for you, and you were tired. Tired of being the reason that everyone you cared about in this fucking jungle was in constant danger. So, when Frankie told you to be smart, it was because he just wanted you home. He just wanted you safe.

You stayed quiet as you both watched the scene unfold in the field below. Both Tom and Pope were talking with their hands, gesturing, and speaking quickly. Hearing what was being said wasn’t necessary, their body language was more than enough, this talk wasn’t going in their favor.

“Pope, what's he reaching for? Is that a weapon?” Frankie spoke with his gun against his shoulder as he used the hand that wasn’t on the trigger to press the button on his radio.

No response.

“Pope, do you cop-”

“Frankie,” you touched his shoulder as you remembered the coms were dead from the crash.

Frankie leaned back and glanced at you before looking to his radio and cursing quietly. Pope had his arms out in a defensive position, speaking quickly over Tom who had his hand on his gun. This was bad. This was very bad. Frankie adjusted his grip on the rifle and his body went still. Tom pulled his gun and it was as if everything before you happened in slow motion.

The villagers yelled and Tom used his handgun to fire into the chest of the one nearest to him. Then again and again. Blood blossomed to life through their clothing and they dropped to the ground. The second one of them took another step forward, Frankie pulled the trigger, doing what he was trained to do--protect those on your squad.

His rifle echoed and ricocheted back on his shoulder and the man who had stepped towards Pope dropped just like the three before him. You watched as the other men gave the order for the villagers to get back and the screaming continued. Benny ran down the mountain and Frankie stood but you didn’t move. You were frozen in place as you saw Tom raise his gun at the unarmed man, now struggling to breathe, on the ground. You may not have liked him to begin with, but now you knew--Tom was going to get all of you killed.

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#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales x you #Triple Frontier #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #addicted to you

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teeztheflag · 4 years

Text

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Wolf!Ateez continuation to another member hunting down their mate

trigger warning! ⚠️ strong language, suggestive, non con marking, kidnapping, angst, sexual harassment, angst, no happy ending, height insert, (reader is taller than Jong Ho by a few centimeters), mobbing (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with those topics)

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k i m h o n g j o o n g

„You know he’s coming to get me! He will kill you!“

Jong Ho smiled at your cute attempt to scare him while he watched the night out of the window. His heart bumped at the thought of you lying in his bed. He turned around and neared your form.

„Of course he’s coming... but you got one thing wrong there my dear. It’s me who’s going to kill him!“

You shuddered at this dumbass talking about hurting your mate. A slight whine escaped your wolf and Jong Ho raised one of his eyebrows at that.

„Don’t be sad. Soon we’re going to mate and then you will forget about Kim Hong Joong.“

„No!“ You gritted your teeth at him and the rebel wolf laughed at you mockingly. You were just too cute to think you could hurt him in any way.

„Then I will just try to kill you myself!“ You started to lunge at the much stronger wolf and he tackled you with ease back onto his bed and hovers above you.

Jong Ho secures your arms above you and finds your gaze to capture you in. „Stop this nonsense. If you don’t behave I will mark you right here and now.“

A tear rolls down your cheek after several tries to escape his strong grip.

„Why are you hating him so much?“

He frowns at you and sits up so you’re face to his back.

„You don’t know anything about the rebels, right? What little lies did Hong Joong tell you about us? Huh, nevermind.“ He stands up and leaves you alone in the room after he locks the door.

You groan out. „What does he mean with this?“

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p a r k s e o n g h w a

You stood in front of the mirror to examine the dirty mark over your neck. It looked like the two marks emerged into one and you shuddered at the thought of Woo Young being your mate now.

„Someone’s here to see you.“ You quickly hid your neck and turned around to glare at the boy.

„Fuck yourself.“

„I would rather do that to you.“ Your lower region clenched at his words and your tried to hide the blush. Since Woo Young marked you things were very odd.

You thought it would take a long time for your wolf to catch feelings for the mate and you also heard that it only developed this quick if your older mate was dead.

But Seong Hwa was alive, right?

Woo Young couldn’t stand to see your hurt expression anymore so he walked up to you and caught your hand with his one.

The part he touched seemed to burn pleasantly and the two of you felt it.

„Come.“

„(y/n)?...“

You looked up and couldn’t believe what you saw. Seong Hwa! He came to get you! You ran up to him and he caught you in his arms and twirled you around. He buried his nose deep in the crook of your neck and instantly his smile vanished.

„You bastard! You aren’t allowed to do that!“

„Well, I am. And you know that, too.“

„What does he mean, Hwa...?“

„I would’ve never thought you had the guts for that.“

„Maybe I just followed my desire?“ He smirked at Seong Hwa and the older boy‘s eyes turned into a dangerous yellow color.

„Watch your words.“ He spit out thought gritted teeth and you were totally lost at what was going on.

„Stop! I want to know what the hell is going on here!“

„(y/n), you’re my mate. There‘s nothing going on here.“

„There‘s one little detail you’re missing - she’s my mate, too.“ You suddenly felt really dizzy and the last thing you see before you black out is Woo Young winking at you.

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j e o n g y u n h o

Yeo Sang was shattered. He felt so dumb to try something like this with you. He decided to get out of the town for a while to clear his mind.

Meanwhile you were just as disappointed with Yeo Sang as the young wolf himself with him.

Yun Ho on the other hand was totally confused why the boy would try to get to you in the first place...

Two months went by when you heard of Yeo Sang‘s come back. Yun Ho and you decided it would be the best to not tell anyone of the incident so many people were happy that the young boy was back.

You guessed that he would want to talk to you but you nearly collapsed when you saw him hand in hand with another girl passing over the market place.

„Yun Ho... do you see that, too?“

„Mh, what? Oh, what the...“

Later that day someone rang the bell to your house and your sister was so loud you could only guess who it was.

„(y/n), can we talk?“ You nodded at him with a unsure gaze to your sister but followed him anyway.

„I am sorry.“

„You should be.“

„It will never happen again.“

„Sure.“

„I found my mate.“

„That’s great...“

„I know I can never make up what I did to you and I don’t want to pretend it was only my wolf that pushed me to do it. I just lost control and I feel so bad for hurting you like this.“

„I understand. Our wolves sometimes can get out of control I know that. Just promise you won’t ever do that ever again and not to anyone else, too.“

„Of course! I will train my wolf and myself in self-control I already signed in for a course in another city where they help wolves like... me.“

You smiled at that. You still hated him in some way but your were glad he was sorry and tried to help himself.

„I wish you good look.“

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k a n g y e o s a n g

„What’s up sweetheart?“ Yeo Sang emerges your form on the couch and kisses your temple to which you giggle.

„You scrolling through social media.“

„Mh...“ He tangled himself with you on the furniture and watches how you swipe away quickly some pics of other boys on your instagram.

„Wait a second!“ He takes your phone and you slightly panick when he gets back to the boy that posted a pic of him with his six pack and your mate frowns.

„You like that?“

„Me? What? No!“

„Then why’re you following him?“ Suddenly a text message pops up and you gulp when you see it is from Yun Ho. What did that dick want?!

youknowthehoeyunho: still sticking with that stick? if you’re down for a real man come to my place tonight ;) party xx

„The fuck?! Baby, do you think I am not manly enough?“

„No! I don’t know why he writes me shit like that! I swear I don’t have a clue! And you know that I love you!“

You grabbed the phone back from him and deleted the message and put it away.

You tried to cuddle into Yeo Sang‘s chest but the boy was in deep thoughtful and suddenly stood up to grab his car keys.

„Where are you going?“

„Training with San and Min Gi.“

You facepalmed and tried to reach out for him but he was too fast and out of the door before you could stop him.

Stupid instagram...

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c h o i s a n

Of course San started his journey to get a potion that would heal you. It was a hard way but he was lucky that he found a witch that took quite the... liking in him.

„You should be fast if you want to heal her. Although this can destroy the spell your species tends to be blended quite easily...“ She laughed at him and San‘s knuckles turned white.

„I will safe her.“

Back to the house he frantically searched for you but he was stopped when he heard a groan from upstairs.

„Seong Hwa?! Shit, what happened? Where’s she?!“

„I am s-sorry, San. He - he got her.“

Finally she was back in his arms. The beauty herself (y/n) was kissing Hong Joong ravishly and he could swear his heart stopped a beat at the feeling.

„Tonight I will take what’s mine.“ His orbs turned into a golden color while he analyzed your faze. His fingers carefully touched your swollen lips from the kiss and he smirked.

„I am already yours.“

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s o n g m i n g i

The doctors were visiting you everyday but you were very weak after the attack of Seong Hwa. The wolf inside of you tried to heal you but it took a long time.

Min Gi visited you as often as possible and he decided to speak to his alpha about the incident.

„I know Min Gi but we cannot declare a war because of one thing.“

„One thing?! He wanted to kill my mate!“

„I know! It’s not that I don’t think Park Seong Hwa should meet consequences for his actions. You know about our problems with the other pack. We have to be careful also for our brothers and sisters!“

„You’re right, alpha.“

„I think we should - “ A call stopped the alpha to talk further and Min Gi didn’t stop pacing around the office.

„Oh, okay. That’s very good to hear. I - I know we have problems but thank you.“

„Who was it?“

„It was the alpha of the shadow pack. He said that they kicked Seong Hwa out so now he’s a rogue...“

„They really did? Gosh, I would’ve never guessed they would do that.“

„Yeah, me neither... but I think he knows the risk they would’ve been under in a war. Many other packs would’ve helped us because of our reason.“

„I am glad...“

„Yes, but... Min Gi. Park Seong Hwa is now a rogue. He doesn’t follow the law anymore and he’s got nothing to lose. We need to protect our borders in case he’s coming back.“

And he would come back.

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j u n g w o o y o u n g

„That fucking asshole! If he just came a little bit later I would’ve been able to - “

Hong Joong smirks at his friend.

„Been able to what?“

„To do everything that little bitch could only dream of...“

„I thought you weren’t interested in her?“

„Nah, but I know it would drive Woo Young insane.“

„Then we get them and let him watch?“

„How would that even be possible?“

„I know someone who might help us.“ Hong Joong smiles mischievously at his friend. He didn’t care about Woo Young and that mate of his but if it got them the final push to start a war it was worth it.

„Okay!“

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c h o i j o n g h o

„Yah! Wouldn’t thought you would pull so at this years competition!“

„For gods sake fuck off Min Gi.“

Min Gi‘s friends joined the little disput and soon other competitors came to watch.

„I really have a question, Jong Ho. Your mate is taller than you, right? Does she help you at shopping to reach the higher shelves?“ Many wolves laughed at that and Jong Ho‘s head started to become really red.

„Just by a few centimeters!“

„Hahaha! So it’s true! Well, no wonder she’s been hanging out with other boys...“

„She didn’t!“

„Well, how about another bet? If you win I will leave you and your model girl alone.“

„And if you win?“

„One night with her so she’s able to hug someone without bending down for once.“

Fucker.

„Alright.“ If looks could kill Min Gi sure would be dead by now. Jong Ho wouldn’t loose this competition.

„Oh my god! Did your hear already? Song Min Gi and Choi Jong Ho have a bet again!“

You had to spit the water out you were just about to swallow.

„Choi Jong Ho!“

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↺ back to navi

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pictures from twitter ateez official

#ateez reaction #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez wolves #ateez werewolf #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez writing #ateez wolf #ateez wolf au #ateez werewolf au #ateez reactions

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heartrip · 3 years

Text

Kano’s Obsession With Sonya

I wanna write this down as a headcanon because I feel it’s important to talk about their relationship and establish it on this blog.

FIY for any Sonya’s / Cassie’s / Cage’s out there - you don’t have to support/agree with this headcanon or apply it in our threading ! This is just a personal take on Kano’s feelings toward Sonya - if you WANT to include it, by all means but if you’d rather a unique take on the relationship, we can plot something out! :)

This is based off of all incarnations of Kano / Sonya’s relationship.

As the title states, Kano is obsessed with Sonya - I’d dare say it’s unhealthy and borders between pure hatred and a twisted sort of love. I’ve briefly spoke before about how Kano doesn’t really feel love for others. He struggles with long term relationships, is afraid of commitment and generally doesn’t care for most people.

For Kano - Sonya represents everything he isn’t but the two also share some pretty striking similarities. For example, while she’s loyal, good and just (all things Kano isn’t) she’s also headstrong, tough and determined (similar to him).

He’s a man who likes the chase. He likes a challenge - Kano likes what he can’t have. He’s driven by a desire to reach the unreachable (even though he knows it isn’t possible) and what is more unreachable than his one, true enemy?

( Side Note :: Look how little Kano cares for Jax. Jax is the one responsible for his missing eye and yet he dislikes him in a way which is very ‘fuck you, I’ll deal with you later’ - his focus is entirely on Sonya, despite, well, everything pointing to the fact that he should wanna get back Jax, not her. )

Their relationship isn’t for a moment romantic or loving - the two openly despise each other, but the raw tension that’s there can’t be denied. Both represent sides of themselves that the other despises (if that makes sense). They see the similarities in one another and it drives them c r a z y.

As in canon and as would make sense - if one got their hands on their other, they’d kill them. Or, in Sonya’s case, imprison them. However, I’m not 100% sold on the idea that Kano would kill Sonya. I don’t think he would - in fact, he’d be stuck and would probably only end up killing her if absolutely driven to it. Otherwise, I think he’d hold her captive. In that sense, the relationship is somewhat one-sided.

( Side Note :: See his Tower Ending in MK11, with ultimate power he doesn’t kill his worse enemy, he instead makes her fight cage matches in skimpy underwear. SMH, but for real - he wouldn’t kill her. )

Another thing I shitposted about once is Kano keeping a lock of Sonya’s hair around his neck, I’m pretty sure this is shown in Deadly Alliance. I absolutely maintain that canon on this blog and accept it as a part of my Kano - he has kept a strand of her hair around his neck before. This was done primarily for intimidation purposes and to deliberately piss her off (seriously, wouldn’t an enemy wearing a part of you drive you insane). Privately, he kept this piece of her close to him because it’s as intimate / close as he’s been able to get near her without a fight.

( Final Side Note :: I can’t write for Sonya but I sort of feel that she’s exactly the same as Kano but reflected from the other side - the side of good. She’s as obsessed with him as he is her, but in all of the good ways. She’s obsessed because she needs to catch him, stop him, put him away. She’s essentially the ‘good’ version of all this - but it doesn’t make her any different. )

TLDR; My Kano is entirely in love with Sonya but has no idea how to express it properly / thus love becomes obsession, add in a dash of hatred/rivalry and an absolute hard on for chasing / challenges and there you have it - Kano’s obsession with Sonya is so so so weird but absolutely canon on this blog.

#[Headcanon]#its one of the elements of his character that i actually find kind of scary / kind of deep #because this is a man who doesnt give a fuck about anything #but sonya? well fuck thats something he gives a fuck abot #ill write another about his relationship with kabal too someday but #sonya/kanos in my head #and the thing is it isnt romantic - like not for a second is it romantic or love or nice or sweet #its straight up poisonous obsession #and i think in some ways sonya is the same

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dangermousie · 3 years

Text

Ok, granted I only skimmed it while I was cleaning up the MTL so maybe I missed copious scenes of Wolfie eating babies but why the hell did the censors have such insane heartburn over this drama? Sure he is not a saintly hero and there is some dark stuff but it’s in keeping with the rest of the period dramas.

* He kills her dad and household, not knowing they are hers, on orders of the King. Bad sure but the male lead of The King’s Woman did the same to the heroine and he wasn’t exactly an abused and gaslit feral child of nature (hell, he killed his OWN kid half-siblings!) And we are not going to get into Li “I made you my mark to kill your grandfather and cousins and enslave your tribe, how does a dinner and a movie sound” Chengyin of Goodbye My Princess. Yes, both these OTPs ended badly but changing the ending from the novel ending to what they made the drama ending should have covered it. No happily ever after for family killers, they all have to deal with woman they love dying in their arms, welcome to the club Wolfie!

* He got his extra fighting extra healing powers in a creepy magic evil lake. Occasionally it acts up due to Wolfbone flower or w/e. The poison in his blood can be calmed down by snake venom in Snake Lady’s blood so she gives him her blood a few times, at least once through letting him bite her when he’s way out of it. And soooo? Drinking snake venom and poisons and going to weird lakes to get powers and get cured is the staple of many a cdrama. Hell, just this year in Love in Between, shifu’s poison madness could only be soothed by the poison in Qing Ci’s blood and so Qing Ci let him chew on his arm like a steak on screen and nobody said boo.

* He is the King’s executioner and kills people who don’t deserve it when the King says so. On screen sometimes. If this was a ML disqualification there are too many dramas that could not air. I mean, Ji Ye took a hammer to a weaponless, helpless man on screen in Eagle Flag and that was a-ok (the man was supervisor at a mining camp Ji Ye was sent to, irony.) and as I said, tragic ending makes him pay for all the badness blah blah.

* They ride wolves/have battle wolves/he hulks out (transforms to some degree). Ummm so. Giant condors anyone? The hero of The Four being a LITERAL werewolf? The hero of Legend of Awakening and Legend of Yunxi both having weird powers/hulking out as a result or creepy experiments conducted on them by bad guys? That’s ok somehow.

* No sex please, we are British - but they are not British so why not allow those two to have a hint of their sex scene on screen? I mean in keeping with a lot of other cdramas, not something raunchy or anything. They aren’t committing adultery or anything.

* If he has poison in his blood that will eventually kill him, why is that such a taboo they cut all of it to as much as they could while still keeping the plot coherent (and sometimes not coherent like when MZX suddenly gets same blood out of nowhere.) I mean “I have poison in me that means I will die/go mad in x months” is a staple - three (!!!) separate characters have that in Love in Between.

* cutting stuff about evil daddy being evil. I mean he’s still evil but he’s eviler in the novel. Ummm why? They changed him from a historical emperor to a fake one and obviously did not change him to a nice guy so why?

* I am not even gonna get into them cutting out various torture/violence/beatings because in the year in which Love and Redemption aka BDSM period fantasy of your dreams came out, nothing else needs to be said about why it is absurd for them to have issues here (also Border Town Prodigal, which makes L&R look like kindergarten aired the year before The Wolf was supposed to and not just on a streaming platform, on actual TV!)

Anyway, I am gonna stop but I am officially puzzled. I expected him to maniacally laugh as he put old women and children to the torch or something by the censorship office reaction.

Honestly, other than the fact that the censors were made seriously uncomfortable by hormonal onslaught of Darren Wang as Wolfie and so freaked the fuck out, the only explanation (and probably the real one) is that they either got unlucky and drew a really picky censor or, even more likely, the makers/production of this are not one of the favored ones of the censorship office and/or weren’t able to smooth things over as much as they should and so they got the book thrown at them for things that other productions who the censors are more buddy buddy with would be allowed to get away with. At least this is how it would work in my former homeland and I see no reason why it would be different in China.

Oh well, thanks to the novel I have a fully coherent narrative and can fill in the gaps. But why the FUCK couldn’t I have the scene of Wolfie building her a set of swings, epically badly? (If they filmed that and cut it for time hoping to get on tv which they didn’t anyway ffffffff!!!!)

Gonna stop now.

#cdrama #cnovel #the wolf

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jjkfire · 3 years

Text

i miss writing so much! read through some of my yet to be finished updates and i just want to have the time to finish them ): anyway tldr is life has been crazy but uhh happy early lunar new year! here’s a short preview of navy... a rather big scene which i think is funny in its own way lol. there’s no context because it’s a snippet but imagine this fight actually playing out... as in have you ever fought with someone and when it’s all over you’re like that was stupidly hilarious! yes, that’s the mood for this one aha. also will probs delete this later because i am posting on impulse lmao

“Huh, so that’s why they went unanswered?” Jungkook asks, but he isn’t exactly expecting a reply because the whole situation was just insanely ridiculous to him. There’s a beat of silence, maybe two and then he just bursts out into sudden laughter. Nobody says anything as he guffaws to himself with his eyes shut because for some reason, his laughter is terrifying. It’s loud, almost forced and quite honestly, you’re scared.

“This is just too funny,” He shakes his head before he cards his fingers through his hair in frustration. “So, all this time my letters were— a-and all these years— I mean all of this is just too funny.”

He’s not completing his sentences and you don’t understand why. He says it’s funny but he’s quite obviously angry. No, not just angry but furious. You’ve never seen him like this in all the years you’ve known him.

“What… what letters?” You manage to ask, and at that Jungkook just laughs through his nose, once again shaking his head.

The room is silent and it feels like you’re the only one who isn’t in on the joke. Though, the joke seems to be a very terrible one considering everyone has some sort of uncomfortable look on their face.

“I sent you letters when I moved to Seoul. If I remember correctly, five of them—”

“Six, actually,” Your mother mumbles but Jungkook’s piercing gaze tells her she shouldn’t speak anymore.

“I sent you six letters,” He emphasizes the number. “You didn’t send me any emails so I sent you letters hoping you would—"

“What are you talking about? I sent you emails! You didn’t reply to any of them.”

“Come on, Y/N. You never sent me anything.” He says it rather nonchalantly, but it sounds like an accusation to you. Oh, now you were furious too.

“I did! I sent it to kookster and you never replied!” You grumble, the anger you’ve been holding in all these years spilling out. “k-o-o-k-s-t-e-r was your email and I sent you dozens of them and you never replied!” You shout, hands balled into fists as you spelled out his childhood email account.

“That isn’t my email and you know it!” He shouts in return. “You sent that song to my email so don’t even try to weasel your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, I sent that song to the kookster email so what are you—”

“There’s a z! kooksterz, with a z!” He interrupts, now his hands busy with his phone as he furiously scrolls through his email. “Y/N, you know this. Look, if you want to lie at least try to be convincing, won’t you?” He asks, while he slams his phone on the table, his finger shaking with anger as he points to the email address on the top.

You hear a muffled laugh from one of the ladies and although you were angry, you almost felt like laughing too. This whole situation seemed ridiculous.

“This isn’t… I mean I— I swear,” You squint at the email with eyebrows pinched together in confusion. It’s the one you sent with the busanbeats account you had made on a whim. It was addressed to kooksterz, that is with a z as Jungkook has reiterated and you didn’t understand how because— oh wait. You bolt upright the moment it hits you. It was all coming back to you, the shattered pieces of your drunken memory.

That night you had downed multiple bottles of soju and when you finished up the song you deliberated if there was a z in Jungkook’s email. At the time, you couldn’t quite remember what his email was but it just seemed very likely that Jungkook would’ve added the z given that it had been in trend to do that when the two of you were kids, and so that’s what you went with.

Why then were you so adamant back when you were a teen that his email was— oh, you remember now.

“Y-your mother. I asked her back then if I had your email right. She said it was right. K-o-o-k-s-t-e-r, no z…”

“Wait—” His mother panics, hands flailing in the air. “Don’t drag me into this I… I wouldn’t have lied! I had no reason to! I just reiterated to you what he told me on the phone. I must have it written down somewhere in our old phone book.”

“But Jungkook I—”

The chair screeches when Jungkook rises to his feet. The arguing ceases as he pockets his phone and smooths down the front of his shirt.

“This is just— I mean, this is hilarious!” He exclaims, shaking his head. It was all he seemed to be able to do in response to all that he had heard. “I need to take a walk,” He finally says after he takes a final look around the room.

Just like that, he was gone and you were left sitting there, dumbfounded. It was just so much to take in and all you could do was laugh to yourself. Your mother, Jungkook’s mother and all the ladies were talking over each other, trying to explain it all to you but, you couldn’t seem to process any of it.

“I’m uhh, I’m going to go check on Jungkook,” You say suddenly before you got out of your seat, in a quieter manner compared to Jungkook and with a few steps, you were out the front door.

and before you think it’s like cliche just you wait lol. this next part, it ends before it gets there but if you’re asian... do you know typical aunty behaviour? that’s what happened. like all the aunties will gather and they will all share one braincell.

The first time your mother saw the letter in the mailbox, she thought it had come from her rather eccentric cousin from Seoul. When you were young, you were the only one who would listen to his weird stories. Uncle Fancy, was the nickname you had decided on and he loved it. It was some sort of bond the two of you had and who was your mother to stop that. Every once in a while, he would send lengthy letters from Seoul with a few pictures attached. They were never regular photos, they were rather avant-garde. Some of them bordered on nudity, other times drug use was involved. He wanted to tell real stories through pictures he had said. Your mother obviously wasn’t pleased with this. He also had godawful handwriting. She was not quite sure how the mailman could ever decipher the address he wrote on the front. So, when she saw that rather thick envelope in the mail addressed to you with rather terrible handwriting on the front, she just called out saying “Uncle Fancy sent you a letter.” You grimaced upon hearing that. The last letter he sent quite honestly scared you a little. The pictures were weird, the stories he wrote even weirder. You weren’t quite sure you wanted to subject yourself to that again. “Umm, you can throw it out…” You mumble. “If he asks, just tell him we never got it… please?” Your mother agrees to that, simply placing it in the drawer for the time being before she threw it out.

But, then came another, and a week later, another. It was weird. He never usually sent so many. He said his photography was a work of art, that it took time. It was so odd that he was sending letters so frequently. When the fifth one came in, curiosity got the better of her and she finds herself opening up the letter.

Dear Y/N,

It’s Jungkook! Maybe my other letters got lost in the mail—

Dear Y/N,

Oh my god. Your mother panics. Pulling the drawer open with such force that it almost comes out. She opens one of the old letters.

Jungkook here! I —

Your mother gasps, quickly ripping the next letter open

Dear Y/N,

Hello! This is Jungkook

Oh god, oh god, oh god. This next letter, it can’t—

Dear Y/N,

Jungkook ag—

She stuffs all the letters into the drawer at the sound of someone coming down the stairs. Oh my god, is all she can think.

By now, you’ve openly ranted about how much you hated the boy. You didn’t even want your mother to say his name in the house. So, when she tried to bring up the letters, you wouldn’t even let her complete the sentence. She started the sentence with Jungkook and that’s as far as she got. It seemed like you had a separate fight with him. You were shouting on the phone just the other day and she pretty much thought it was Jungkook you were talking to. Nobody else ever got to your emotions the way the boy did. Perhaps you had a crush on him or that he was your best friend and you felt abandoned, your mother couldn’t really tell. All she knew was that you really hated him now. So, she keeps those letters in the drawer, unsure what to do with them. Perhaps, she’ll bring them up again once you’ve calmed down.

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 20

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

Every Saturday morning Millie has him up at the crack of dawn; a habit she’d developed after their first weekend back in Australia, when she pestered him awake, insisting he watch the sunrise with her. Six months later he can still remember the look of awe and wonder on her face; those blue eyes impossibly wide, her mouth hanging open in shock, hands clasped tightly against her chest. It became their ‘thing’. Sitting out on the back patio and watching as the sun came up, having breakfast and then heading down to the beach. If the conditions were right and the winds not too strong and the waves not too challenging, he’d take her surfing; she’d been a natural from the start, confident, expressing no fear or hesitation. She even had her own board: a custom job that he’d let her pick out and choose the colors and designs she wanted on it. If things weren’t cooperating, they’d take Mac for a walk along the beach and throw things in the water for him to retrieve. Millie would collect rocks, shells and all the beach glass she could possibly find; adding everything to the already expansive collection she kept in shoe boxes under her bed. Or they’d take a hike through the woods that bordered their property, and she’d use his phone to take pictures of any wildlife and ‘cool looking stuff’ they’d stumble upon.

It’s their time together. Before all her siblings are awake and the chaos of the day begins. Just shy of six years old and despite her penchant for profanity and fighting, she’s insanely intelligent and well spoken; introspective and wise, oddly intuitive for someone so young. More like her mother than anyone realizes. And he cherishes their alone time. She’s not his first born; no one could ever replace Austin. But she’s the first in his new life; a living reminder of the second chance that he’s given. A beautiful, amazing little soul that had been created during quite possibly the craziest and most difficult time of his life; in the midst of all the loss and the destruction that Dhaka had brought with it. An accident maybe, not but a mistake. Their bond is profound, stronger than the others. He’d been with her from the go after all, when she was still being carried inside of her mother’s body. When she was a baby, he hadn’t gotten back into the job yet. There’d been no leaving in the middle of the night, no being absent for days and often weeks. And he’d been so grateful to be given another shot at being a father that he’d devoted every waking moment to her.

After the sunrise she helps him make breakfast; standing on one of the kitchen chairs she pushes right up against the stove. The same thing she has him make every Saturday: pancakes topped with fresh fruit and syrup. Proud of herself when she gets the responsibility of mixing the batter and ladling it onto the griddle. Talking his ear off the entire time the food cooks; the dreams she’d had during the night,, everything she’d learned in school that week, all the different activities she and her friends had engaged in during gym and recess. All bright eyed and cheerful, a stark comparison to his more sullen and quiet morning mood. But he humors her. Like always. Offering up nods or small comments at the appropriate times, sympathetic scowls or shakes of the head when she’d complain about something she found wildly unfair or particularly disturbing. When all the food is prepared and they’re ready to head outside to eat, she throws her arms around his neck and squeezes as tight as she can. And when she says “I love you daddy” in that little voice of hers, everything seems perfect and right in the world.

Breakfast is finished and he’s on his second coffee of the morning when she speaks again. Her thick, unruly hair tumbling down the sides of her face and to the middle of her back as she sits across from him; feet up on the seat and her Hello Kitty pajama top pulled over skinned and bruised knees. Those blue eyes dark and serious, her brow furrowed.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it true you almost died?”

Tyler watches her over the top of his mug, lips pressed against the rim. She’s already perfected the poker face, not even the slightest hint of emotion. And she suddenly seems so much older and mature than her actual age.

“The other night when we saw Auntie Nik and Uncle Kyle,” she continues. “Mommy said you almost died. Is that true?”

Fuck, he silently curses. It had been bad enough dealing with the fallout of Ovi telling her about his ‘real job’; that the reason he went away so often was because he was ‘helping get good people away from bad people’. The nightmares had lasted for two months; she’d wake up screaming in terror, often wetting her bed, sometimes even throwing up. But now this? His own brush with death was something he’d hoped to not have to touch on until she was much older. If ever.

“It is,” he confesses. “I did almost die.”

“The bad guys hurt you?”

He nods.

“How? How did they hurt you?”

“You don’t need to know those things. Maybe when you’re older I’ll tell you. But you’re too young to hear all of that.”

“But it was really bad,” she states.

“Yeah. It was really bad.”

Her expression remains neutral, eyes fixed on her fingers as they fidget with a loose piece of thread on the hem of her night shirt. “Mommy was there too?”

“Mommy was there,” he confirms. “She helped me. So I wouldn’t die.”

“So she’s a hero?”

“I think so. She’s my hero, at least.”

Millie smiles at that. Then quickly turns serious again; those deep lines in her forehead returning, eyes darkening once more. “If you died, I wouldn’t be here. And neither would TJ or Tanner or Declan or Addie.”

“You would still be here. You were going to be here whether I died or not. You were already in mommy’s tummy.”

“Did you know? That I was in there.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I didn’t know. Neither did mommy.”

“How come? How come you didn’t know?”

“The doctor hadn’t told us yet,” it seems like the easiest and most logical explanation for a child to grasp. “We didn’t find out until a little while later that we were having you.”

“So if you died, mommy would have been all alone when she found out about me? She would have had to have me all by herself? With no daddy in the room?”

He manages a nod, finding himself fighting back his own wave of emotion. It’s something he doesn’t think about often; if he’d died and Esme would have been left to handle everything on her own. How she would have felt finding out that she was carrying the baby of a dead man. With nothing more than those five days in Dhaka to remember him by.

“That’s sad,” Millie’s voice is a near whisper, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Poor mommy.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Or if there’s anything he can say. No wise or helpful words of comfort that can heal that particular wound. Especially when flooded with his own emotions: sadness, regret, guilt. That he’d ever put Esme in that situation in the first place.

Millie rebounds quickly; brushing the tears off her cheeks with the backs of her hands and tucking her hair behind her ears. “Were you happy?” she asks. “When you found out that I was in mommy’s tummy?”

“Yeah...” he takes a swig of coffee. “...I was happy. Surprised. But happy.”

“A good surprise?”

He smiles. “A very good surprise.”

“Because you were sad before, right? Because Austin died. And he was you first baby. I’m the second.”

“You’re my first too. You’re my first with your mom. That still counts. And yeah, I was happy because I was getting a second chance to be a dad. Your mommy gave me that chance. So did you. Did you know that I used to talk to you all the time? When you were in mommy’s tummy.”

Her eyes and her voice brighten. “You did?”

Tyler nods. “I used to put my hand on mommy’s stomach and you’d always kick it. I used to tell you all kinds of stuff. About all the thing we were going to get to do together. About how awesome it was going to be take you to beach and teach you how to surf. About how much I loved you and couldn’t wait to meet you.”

“Mommy said that you got to meet me first. When I was born.”

“I did. I was the very first person that doctor gave you to.”

“Did you cry?”

“I did,” he admits. “More than you did, I think. You were kind of quiet, actually. You were just looking around at everyone and everything with those big blue eyes.”

“What did I look like?”

“You were really small. Not as small as Addie though. You were three pounds heavier than her. And you had tons of hair. A little darker than it is now.”

“Was I cute?”

“The cutest baby ever.”

“Did I look like you or mommy?”

“Would I say you were the cutest baby ever if you looked like your mom? Come on now.”

“Daddy!” she scolds. “That’s mean. Mommy is very pretty.”

“She is. You’re the cutest baby ever and she’s the prettiest mommy ever. But you looked like me. You looked like me then and you look like me now.”

“That’s okay I guess,” she gives a rather forlorn sigh. “I mean, you’re okay to look at, I suppose.”

Tyler smirks. “Now who’s mean?”

“I learn from the best,” she declares, then reaches for the plastic cup of chocolate milk that sits on the table. “If you and mommy didn’t know each other and didn’t have any kids and you met her somewhere, would you still fall in love with her?”

“Absolutely,” he replies with no hesitation.

“Would you still marry her?”

“I’d marry your mom a million times over. Think she’d marry me? If she didn’t know me yet and just met me?”

“I think so. I mean, she obviously loves you, right?”

“Think so?”

“I know so. I mean, she puts up with your shit.”

Tyler laughs at that. “Yeah,” he agrees. “She does.”

“But I think you’re doing okay, daddy. I think you’re brave and you’re strong and you need to be nicer to yourself. You need to say nice things to yourself instead of bad things. When you get up in the morning, you should look in the mirror and tell yourself that you’re awesome and no one is going to make you angry or sad or dull your sparkle. That’s what I do, you know,” she pushes her hand through her hair, moving it off her forehead and away from her face. “Every day when I get up, I tell myself, ‘Amelia, it’s going to be a great day’. I use my real name when I talk to myself. Just ‘cause.”

Tyler grins. “You talk to yourself a lot?”

“When I want to have an intelligent conversation,” she responds, and he nearly chokes on a mouthful of coffee. “I mean, have you met the kids in my class? Or my brothers? I have to talk to myself. There’s no other option. And I tell myself, ‘Amelia, no one is going to dull your sparkle!’”

“No one could EVER dull your sparkle, Millie. No one. You’re a lot like your mom, you know. More than people realize.”

Esme is all personality as well. For years she’d had to hide it behind a tough, no nonsense exterior; her time in the Corps, the disastrous marriage to Mark, her years on the job spent lying and conning people. She’d never been able to be herself, for one reason or the other. But the true Esme had always been lingering just under the surface; vibrant and carefree, a bit of a wild child, one that loves life and everyone in it and tries to never waste time on regret and ‘what ifs’. Moving back to Australia had brought it all out of her. It had been like meeting her all over again for the first time; she was Esme, but she wasn’t. Even now there are shades of the Dhaka Esme lingering under the surface, but that Esme is no longer in control. The new one has taken over. And seeing those different sides to her...seeing her real personality come out...had made him fall even more in love with her. Which he had thought wasn’t even remotely possible.

“If you don’t think you can tell yourself stuff like that, I can do it for you,” his daughter offers. “I can tell you that you’re awesome and that you’re brave and strong and that there’s no better daddy in the whole, wide world. Not even in the whole universe.”

Tyler never thought an almost six-year-old could bring him to his knees, but if he’d been standing, she would have done just that. The words take his breath away; so innocent and pure. So honest. That IS how she sees him. To her, he’s the strongest, bravest man that exists. She doesn’t know just how broken and damaged he actually is, nor does she have any recollection of the birthdays he’s missed or the times he’d left in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye. And if she does, she’s forgiven him and holds no grudges.

“Don’t cry, daddy,” she implores, and she’s climbing into his lap now and taking his face in her hands. “Don’t be sad. Be happy. I’m here.”

“You have no idea how happy that does make me. That you ARE here.”

Her eyes sparkly mischievously. “Because I’m your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite. I love all of you.”

She rubs her palms against his beard, giggling at how it feels against her skin. “It’s okay, daddy. You can tell me. I can keep a secret.”

Grinning, he combs a hand through her hair, moving it away from her face and pushing it off her shoulders. “You’re my favorite,” he concedes, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

She gives a brilliant smile; one that wrinkles the corners of her eyes and crinkles the top of her nose. Then wraps her arms around his neck and settles her head on his shoulder. “I knew it.”

****

“I really do want a puppy,” Millie announces three hours later, from where she’s perched upon his shoulders, hands clasped together and forearms folded, resting on top of his head.

They’d spent nearly two hours in the water; alternating between swimming and surfing, then had joined the rest of their family for a second breakfast. And while Esme and Declan went to the neighbors and Kyle took the twins for a ‘guys day, Millie had insisted of spending the day with him. Even if meant doing nothing more than going into town and running errands: picking up baby formula and prescriptions, checking items off a small grocery list, and browsing through stores. Since their talk that morning she’d been clingy; more so than usual, not wanting to let him out of her sight. And he enjoys it; the way she’s so attached to him. Even the way she can talk him into doing just about anything for her. Possessing the innate ability to get him out of his comfort zone without him even realizing he’s doing it.

“What kind of puppy?” Tyler asks, shopping bags on one hand, free arm across her legs to keep her in place.

“I dunno. A cute one. A fluffy one. Really fluffy. Like a little bear. But not as mean and big when it grows up.”

“We already have Mac,” he reminds her.

“Mac needs a friend.”

“He has you and your brothers and your sister.”

“A furry friend. Like him.”

“He does, does he?”

Millie nods. “Maybe for my birthday?”

“You never know.”

He and Esme had already made the decision; picking out –and paying for- an Australian shepherd that could picked up the morning of the big day. A friendly –albeit extremely hyper- little thing with enormous blue eyes and a playful disposition. The breeder had asked for a name so the puppy could get used to it and recognize it in the home, and without hesitation he’d said ‘Saju’. It seemed fitting; that man had been strong and loyal to the bitter end.

“I’m going to be six, you know,” Millie says.

“I know. I was there when you were born, remember?”

“Did mommy cry? When I was born?”

“What is your obsession with people crying when you were born?”

“Mommy and I watched The Baby Story on Netflix. Everyone on that show cries when their baby is born. Did mommy?”

“Mommy cries at sad commercials. Of course she cried when you were born.”

“Was she sad?”

“Why would she be sad? She was happy. And relieved. Because you were healthy and you made it safe and sound. It was a lot of hard work, you know. Keeping you inside of her as long as she could. Couple times we didn’t think you’d make it that far. That you’d arrive a lot sooner.”

“Like Addie?”

Tyler nods.

“Addie’s super tiny! But she’s tough. And when she squeezes my finger, she squeezes really hard! When she’s older, I’m going to teach her to fight. So no boys pick on her.”

“How about you not teach her to fight and you just beat up whoever picks on her.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

“Exactly.”

“I can do that. Keep the boys away from her. Because boys suck!”

Tyler smirks. “I’m a boy. I don’t suck.”

“That’s different. You’re daddy. You’re a boy, but you’re not.”

“What happened to that Ryan kid?”

“We broke up,” she sighs. “I was sad at first, but mommy said there’s lot of other fish in the pond and I should keep fishing until I find the right one. Even if I have to fish until I’m a lot older. And she said I should never lower my standards.”

“She’s a pretty smart lady that mommy of yours.”

“She is. You’re lucky daddy. That she loves you. ‘Cause she’s crazy cute and crazy smart and lots of boys want someone who is crazy cute and crazy smart.”

“Yeah? What boys? I want names so I can beat them up.”

“Don’t be jealous just ‘cause boys like her. Appreciate it. They like her, but she likes you.”

“You know, you’re awful smart for just about six.”

“I know,” she giggles. “Cute like daddy, smart like mommy.”

“That’s exactly it.”

He stops at the truck to put the bags in the back and they continue on. Taking her to the pet store, where she ‘ooos and awws’ over the wall to wall tanks of various sizes and colors of fish, giggles at the antics of the birds and the hamsters, and gets to pet the kittens and a hedgehog the workers bring out for her to see. But she’s most intrigued by a large tarantula and the snakes. The kid that doesn’t panic when the Huntsmen spiders get into the house or someone finds a snake curled up and hiding in the toe of one of their shoes. She’s calm and composed while everyone else –aside from him- if losing their minds and Esme is threatening to burn the place down.

They go for ice cream next; in a candy shop very similar to the one they used to frequent in Telluride. Millie never talks about Colorado or about their old home; almost as if those times never even existed and she’d been in Australia from day one. Her developing accent is stronger than the other kids’ and every day he hears her voice changing more and more; filling him with a sense of pride that he can’t quite explain.

He sees the way people react to them together; the smiles and the passing comments they get, especially from women. It’s the visual, he supposes. Someone his height and his size catering to a little girl in pig tails and a flamingo patterned sundress.

“Why do girls like big muscles?” Millie asks, as they sit at table on the outdoor patio; kneeling in her seat in order to reach her bowl of ice cream.

“I don’t know,” Tyler replies. “Who likes big muscles?”

“Lots of girls. Mommy does. She likes YOUR big muscles.”

“Mommy knows a good thing when sees it, I guess.”

“I see the way girls look at your muscles. How they look at YOU. I hate it. It’s gross. You’re my dad. I don’t want them thirsty bitches looking at you.”

He frowns. “Amelia...”

“I know...I know...bad language...sorry. But it’s true. I don’t want girls looking at my dad like that. You’re already married. To mommy.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to stay married to mommy. Doesn’t mean other girls can't look. Just means they can’t touch.”

“’Cause mommy will throat punch them.”

Tyler nods. “Exactly.”

“And don’t want Salena looking at you like that either. I don’t appreciate her touching you. Touching your arm. That made me mad.”

“You need to relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax.”

He can’t help but laugh. “You sounded exactly like your mother just then.”

“She shouldn’t have touched you,” Millie continues her rant. “Only mommy should. Because you’re daddy and she’s mommy and you should only touch each other.”

“That’s a very good point. You don’t like her? Salena?”

“I dunno,” Millie shrugs. “I guess she’s okay. It just made me mad. When she touched you.”

“It’s no big deal. Mommy said it was okay.”

“I don’t care. It was wrong and you can’t convince me otherwise. Do you want other guys touching mommy?”

Tyler scowls. “Do they?”

“That’s not the question. Do you? Want other guys touching her?”

“There better not be other guys touching her.”

“Mommy would never let them touch her. Only you’re allowed to touch her.”

“Have other guys tried? Have you seen them try?”

“Daddy, you’re missing the whole point,” she sighs in exasperation. “Do you, or don’t you? Sheesh.”

“I’ll more than throat punch any guy that touches your mother.”

“Well then no girl should touch you either. It’s only fair.”

“You know, you are way too smart for your own good.”

“It’s common sense!” Millie reasons. “I’m going to tell her when I see her. That she’s not allowed to touch you ever again. Or else.”

“How about you stop being such a bad ass and mind your business,” Tyler suggests.

“You’re my dad. You ARE my business.”

“Why don’t you like her?” he asks once more. “Other than the whole touching me thing.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her...I just...” she sighs and allows the words to trail off.

Tyler watches her at he eats his own ice cream; patiently waiting for her to continue. Recognizing that intense, deep in thought expression on her face. It’s one he’s seen many times in the mirror. Esme had called it ‘frowny eyebrows’.

“I don’t trust her,” Millie finally says.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, she shrugs, and licks ice cream off the end of her spoon. “I just don’t. Do you?”

“I’m trying to,” he admits.

“Maybe you don’t trust her for a reason. Maybe you don’t know what it is either.”

“Or I’m just paranoid.”

“No. That’s not it. Mommy says you have really good...” her eyebrows pinch together once more as she struggles to remember the word.

“Instincts?” Tyler offers.

“Yeah! That’s it. Instincts. That’s what mommy said. Those are good things to have, yeah?”

“Most of the time.”

“So maybe they said not to trust her, and you need to listen to them.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know what kind of ‘grow up juice’ they’re giving you at school, but I think you need to lay off it. There’s no way you’re only five.”

“Excuse you, I’m almost six.”

“Sorry. Almost six. You sure you’re not more like sixty?”

“Just six. But six means I’m getting bigger. That I’m growing up.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t stay little forever, daddy. No matter how much you want me to. One day I’m going to get married and you’re going to have to give me away.”

Tyler frowns. “Are you intentionally trying to depress me or...?”

“I’m just saying. It’s sad. That mommy’s daddy didn’t get to do that when she married you.”

“He died a long time before I ever met your mom. She was just a teenager.”

“But even though he’s dead, he’s still my grandpa, yeah?”

Tyler nods.

“And your dad is my grandpa too. But I don’t get to see him. Even though he’s still alive. Mommy said he’s sick. Will I catch it if I go see him?”

“It’s not that kind of sick. You can’t catch it.”

She pouts. “I don’t remember him.”

“You were just a baby the last time I took you there. Did you want to see him?”

“Yeah...I guess...I mean, he’s my grandpa. Will he remember me?”

“Probably not. It’s been a long time since he last saw you.”

“When we moved away when I was a baby. Maybe you could take me there. To see him. So he can see what I look like now.”

“If you want to go and see him, I’ll take you. But...”

She arches an eyebrow, spoon in her mouth as she waits for him to continue.

“...he doesn’t remember who I am, either. Some days he does, some days he doesn’t. It might be a good day for him, might be a bad day.”

“Because he’s sick? Is his brain sick.”

“Yup. That’s exactly it”

“Which means we can’t even bring him popsicles and chicken noodle soup. Those always make me feel better when I’m sick.”

“He might like them, but they don’t help.”

“Hmmm...” her eyes focus on the snack in front of her, spoon swirling around in the now melted remnants of ice cream; bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “...but it might cheer him up. To see me.”

“It could,” Tyler agrees.

“And maybe he can come to my birthday party.”

“What birthday party?” He inquires, and she gives him a sly smile, spoon poised against her lips.

“Amelia.”

“Daddy,” she responds, using the exact same tone.

“What birthday party?”

“Mommy said I had to talk to you about it. And then you could talk to her.”

“About...”

“Okay....so....” she scoops the last of the melted ice cream into her mouth and then ducks under the table, resurfacing beside him and scrambling into his lap. “...I thought it would be really fun if the whole class could come over.”

“To our house?”

She nods enthusiastically.

“That’s a lot of kids.” And a lot of parents that will likely stick around. Each of them complete strangers. In the one place he holds most sacred and where he feels the most at ease. And he can feel the anxiety building at the mere thought of it.

“We have lots of room,” she reasons. “And a big beach and lots of water. None of my other friends have any of that. It would be really fun. A beach party.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want to do? You don’t want to go to the amusement park or to go the koala sanctuary or...?”

“I like home the best. It’s the most fun. Mommy said to talk you about I.”

“She did, did she?”

Millie nods. “I know you don’t like lots of people around, daddy. It’s because of the bad guys, right?”

“You don’t worry about that stuff, okay?” He offers her the last spoonful of his ice cream and she happily accepts it. “Those things aren’t for little people to worry about.”

“But you’re my daddy,” she reasons. “So I worry about you.”

“I know. And I appreciate it and I love you for it. But you’re five...”

“Almost six!” she interjects.

“...and you need to worry about kid stuff. Not about that crap. And you really want to have you friends over for your birthday?”

“I do.”

“I’ll talk to your mom and we’ll make it happen. I’ll deal with it my own shit.”

Millie giggles. “You said no bad language today, daddy.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Fuck.”

“Daddy!” she erupts into giggles. “That even worse language!”

“You going to rat on me to your mom?”

“I’d never rat on you. Unless some other girl touches you. Then I will tell mommy for sure.”

“You’re touching me right now,” he points out.

“That’s different. I’m allowed.”

“Says who?”

“You’re my dad. You helped make me. I still don’t understand how though. How’d you help? How’d you get me in mommy’s tummy?”

“I just did. You don’t need to know how.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Ready to go?”

“Ready!” she chirps, and then wriggles her way around to his back; wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso.

“You’re choking me,” he gasps and gags dramatically

“Sorry,” Millie laughs, and he waits until she once more gets herself up onto his shoulder, hands tightly gripping his hair as he stands up. “Don’t drop me!” she pleads. “You’re a giant and I’ve got a long way to fall!”

“Your hard head will protect you,” he assures her.

“I don’t have a hard head. That’s mean, daddy. Let’s go to the dollar store!” she declares, as he tosses the empty bowls and dirty spoons into the trash.

“No way. I take you in there, I’m stuck there for hours.”

“I need craft paper. And glitter.”

“For what?”

“Birthday invitations. I want to make my own. You can help.”

“That’s more your mother’s thing.”

“Mommy does enough. You can help.”

“Millie...”

“Daddy...” she giggles.

“How do you always manage to talk me into these things?”

“Because you love me and I’m your favorite.”

“Fifteen minutes in the store. In and out.”

“Twenty if the line is long,” Millie debates.

“I’m only agreeing to twenty if you use your allowance and buy me a Gatorade.

She laughs and rests her chin on the top of his head. “Deal.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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ziracona · 4 years

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anon that asked about Nov '19 here! thanks for the answer, its amazing how much thought u put into it all!! i also wondered about freddy, since he got to quentin when he fainted in trials, & wasnt able to get him in ur oneshot in annas realm, would quentin have been able to sleep fine at the campfire, or is their realm different? also, freddy was able to influence other killers' dreams right? he couldn't do that in the oneshot i think, so did his powers grow or r there different rules in ILM?

Good questions! And thank you. : )

ILM and Half-Life are based on the same core world system (so is all the DbD stuff I write for myself—although I make small tweaks sometimes from ficlet to ficlet). So, in both Half-Life and ILM, Freddy would be able to get into his dreams for real if he fell asleep in any unprotected realm. This includes the campfire, all trial areas, and some killer areas. The Entity puts up different barriers for different killers (for example, Myers can’t go anywhere and is completely isolated, but Philip could go to the MacMillan Estate, or to see Sally. It’s based on who would kill each other. Evan wouldn’t disobey the Entity, and except for when he doesn’t have amnesia, neither would Philip, so even though they are not friends, it’s not dangerous for them to be in a realm together. Freddy is one of the most dangerous and a loose canon, so he’s blocked—has been stopped—from physically manifesting in any places but his own🤣. The Entity did not know he could kill Quentin for real if he fell asleep at the campfire (Freddy & Quentin didn’t either until he finally fell asleep), or it would have set something in place to make that not happen. The reason for not putting up barriers everywhere is twofold—one, it helps killers go longer if they’re social and allowed some small amount of ability to speak to each other—it doesn’t want all of them completely mad. But also, it’s just energy. A lot of the mistakes the Entity makes are based around being the opposite of the “The Man Who Sleeps With a Machete is a Fool Every Night But One” tweet—it’s like “why would I waste so much energy maintaining safeguards that are literally never challenged? That’s Inefficent. I want to use it for other stuff, and I’m already running a complex system here. Unfortunately for it, that means the one night it would like to be metaphorically sleeping with a machete, it is not. It doesn’t really think about logic the way a human would at all though. Which is great for the humans!

In Half-Life, Quentin is mostly just lucky. Anna is one of the most territorial killers, so she, like Myers and Max, is completely barred from other spaces. This also means that, though in the Entity’s mind it is mostly for their own safety—no killer can get in. The protection is so strong, nothing could even get in enough to alter her dreams (or subsequently, those of anyone with her).

Freddy doesn’t have enough power to kill any other survivor in a dream (right now anyway—he could try to change that I suppose, but it’d take work. His ability to manifest is directly correlated to the strength of the victim’s fear and memories of him. Unfortunately for Quentin, part of what fucked him up/let Freddy get into his dream, was specifically the fear/belief that he would), or to kill another killer, but if he tries hard, can manipulate their nightmares or talk to them that way. He cannot, however, enter Anna’s. Her safe haven is too safe. This is why his interference late in ILM had 0 effect on Anna—he didn’t chose not to try to mess with her, he couldn’t get to her. In ILM when he enters a dream of Quentin’s for the first time, Quentin is “at” Anna’s, but only kind of. Because they’re not actually in Anna’s realm, just a trial that looks like it, unlike in Half-Life, where he makes it to her real home area, and unfortunately, her home base protection doesn’t extend to semi-real trial replicas.

So, sadly for my boy Quentin, in ILM he actually coulda walked over the border to Anna’s and taken a 48 hour coma nap, but the poor kid had 0 way to know that was the case and every reason to expect it wasn’t, so he never found out. There are probably a couple other places he could have fallen asleep too—I haven’t had to know, bc it hasn’t come up, but I for instance expect Legion’s place is specifically anti-Freddy warded, considering their ages (and they were also not influenced or attempted in ILM, unlike Sally, who got Nightmares, and just went >:-[ at them and chose to ignore/get mad instead of listening). Anna’s is actually probably the single “safest” place in the whole damn realm, except from her and the Entity, because the barriers it had to put in place were insanely strong (as Anna is the only killer canonically able to straight up snap the Entity’s connection to her). Thanks for asking! I love talking about realm mechanics. If any of that’s as unclear, lemme know. : )

#ask #anonymous #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #half-life #half-life (fic)#dead by daylight #the most human aspect the Entity has is frkn buttloads of pride #this was super fun to answer! : D #thanks!

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afterreign · 4 years

Text

lovers is plural pairing: implied akeshu/shuake, background ann/shiho & ann/mika beta reader: @jubilantscribbler a/n: no p5r spoilers summary: The Phantom Thieves, an infamous name that empowers the young and instills fear in the corrupt, hold their most important meeting yet. Just who is Takamaki Ann, code name Panther, dating?

Today, Akira is not nervous. There are no battle strategies to discuss, no infiltration route to go over. He is free, not having to relentlessly plan out solutions for all of the potentially bad outcomes that could come to fruition in their next palace escapade.

(Although, he should do that, Morgana’s incessant pleas to sleep be damned.)

No, today is a day he can breathe easy. Today, he is confident.

Akira slides a 100 yen coin.

“Ann is definitely going out with Shiho.”

The response between the Phantom Thieves—sans Ann, of course—is mixed.

“Dude,” Ryuji deadpans, “for real? We’re makin’ bank, yet you’re only gonna bet, like, a coin?”

The weight, or lack thereof, to Akira’s wallet disagrees completely. “It’s fair,” he reasons, internally stomping away at the compulsion to present how truly empty his wallet is to everyone else. “Plus, we’re still high schoolers. College funds and stuff.”

The word “college” attracts the local student body president like a moth to a debt-filled flame. Ugh, third years. “While I would agree that saving up for college is admirable,” Makoto says with a laugh, “I believe we need to backtrack a little.”

Akira sucks in a breath when the brunette places an unwrinkled 1000 yen bill on the table. Makoto’s eyes shine a little. “I am placing my bets on… Mika-san.”

“Thank you!” Futaba, the resident shut-in, erupts, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m glad there’s some common sense here.”

This, of course, ensues verbal chaos. Ryuji, lovely Ryuji with a heart of gold, slams his hands down on the table, protesting all of Futaba’s points. (“Have you seen her look at Shiho?!” the blond exclaims. “Hell, I want someone to look at me like that!”) Futaba spouts something about common media tropes and otome games and other concepts that fly right over top student Akira’s head. Makoto is somehow the mediator and instigator in all of this, proudly showing the group a selfie Ann and Mika took not too long ago. Haru smiles, looking a little too apologetic for wear, before presenting an even more recent photo of Shiho and Ann going on a stroll at the nearby park. And Yusuke, passionate as ever, presents their close-knit group a highly detailed pencil drawing of Ann and Mika looking deep into each other’s sparkling eyes, and okay, this is getting weird. Possibly bordering creepy, and—

Akechi is sitting there with a pained expression masked poorly. He is sipping his coffee cup. It has been empty for the past ten minutes.

“—I feel inspired gazing upon two colleagues enraptured with one another,” Yusuke finishes confessing. Akira, admittedly, hadn’t caught the earlier half. A none the wiser Yusuke nods sagely, eyes closed. “There is no doubt in my mind… Ann and Mika-san must be together.”

“But,” Haru starts, “I can’t help but see Ann and Suzui-san in a relationship. Is that odd? I haven’t had any time to talk to Suzui-san lately, but when she attended Shujin, the two seemed close.” A fond smile crosses the third year’s face. “I can’t help but be a little jealous actually!”

Akechi politely raises his hand. His laugh sounds like it’s being played straight from his TV interviews. “Aha, well. I see everyone is getting along today. But… considering we are not discussing anything Phantom Thieves related, do you mind if I go along my way and head home?”

Everyone rightfully ignores him. Akechi remains stuck in the table booth, likely resenting the fact he came in the first place.

(Akira almost feels bad for him. Almost.)

“Well, that’s that,” determines Akira. He’s not sure what he’s actually determining, though. There is a tone of finality in his voice, and Akira simply goes along with it. He glances at both sides of the booth they’re huddled in and surmises his thoughts aloud. “Me, Ryuji, and Haru think Ann is dating Shiho. Makoto, Yusuke, and Futaba believe she’s dating Mika.”

Ryuji looks pumped. “We need a tie-breaker!”

Makoto frowns. “You… are aware that we’re taking individual bets, correct? It doesn’t matter if one ‘team’ has more people than the other.”

“Matters to me,” grumbles Ryuji, and Akira pats him on the back.

Out of the corner of Akira’s eye, he catches Haru’s glossed lips making a perfect little “o.” If the thieves were in some classic cartoon, Akira has no doubt in his mind that one of those thinking light bulbs would be flickering just above a bed of curly locks, a stubborn screw you to the laws of gravity. “Oh, Akechi-kun!” Haru turns to the detective, a curious look on her face. The light bulb is all aglow. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Call it a hunch, but Akira is sure that Akechi is swimming in many thoughts by now. Just… not anything helpful. Instead of voicing out the worst of the worst, the brunet smiles a pleasant smile. It’s strained all the same. “Well,” he begins, “before I give you my answer, mind if I express my own questions?”

Futaba minds, apparently. She groans and dives her head between the safe space of her arms. Some of the others restrain themselves to do the same.

“Is it not strange that all of you are placing bets on Takamaki-san’s love life? Does this not feel all a bit too personal?” inquires Akechi, arms crossed. Despite how light his tone is, his stare bores straight into Makoto’s eyes, judging. “I’m especially surprised that you are participating in this as well.”

Akira always felt that there was some camaraderie between Makoto and Akechi. Hair color and motivations aside, both are at the top of their grades, high marks on all of their exams. The two teens are cunning and have a similar interest in law and speak softly when it matters most. They’re arguably the most mature of their group, but… they slip.

Right now is not one of those times.

Makoto doesn’t flinch. “You… must not know me well then, Akechi-kun,” she states. “I admit that once the rest of the Phantom Thieves proposed—” Makoto quickly waves a hand at everyone. “—this, I thought it was… immature, at first. But I soon came to understand that we do this because we care about Ann.”

“And it’s fun!” adds Ryuji. Yusuke is beside the blond, humming in agreement.

“Ann is always looking out for our feelings,” Haru explains, smoothing out her skirt. “Think of this as if… we’re looking out for hers. Ann is one of my dear friends, so of course, I want to support her in a happy and healthy relationship.” Graciously, she covers a giggle behind her hand. “Although, I do think we get carried away.”

Murmurs of agreement surface between the team. And of course, Akira knows this isn’t about money. This isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It’s about Ann’s infectious laugh, about her overflowing sympathy for other people. It’s about Ann because Akira cares about his friends, and he wants the best for her—

“But are we not certain that Ann is dating Mika?” Yusuke asks, pure confusion in his voice.

—but he can still think his friends are factually wrong.

Before the debate has a chance to start up again, Akechi cuts in with a clean, “First, let’s get that tie-breaker vote in, shall we?”

“Oh, now he cares,” Ryuji scoffs.

Suddenly, Akira hears a small gasp. He turns his head to the not-so-mysterious source and finds a shocked Futaba gaping at no one in particular. “We forgot to ask Mona!” she yelps, startling everyone else from the calm. The shut-in whips her head away from everyone and begins shouting at the staircase. “Hey, Mona! Mona!”

For once, Akira is glad Sojiro decided not to stay and make the gang lunch.

It takes a few moments before Akira hears the creak of Leblanc’s wooden stairs. Slowly, Morgana’s nose peeks out from behind the rails before his head and his furry body follow suit. He moves down each step, one careful paw after the other, before dragging his dark tail across the white tile floor and hopping onto the table.

Oh, the bespectacled boy thinks belatedly.

Morgana is sulking.

Triangular ears are flat against his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” the feline-but-not-really says with a sigh.

Ryuji makes a low whistle and leans back into his seat. The booth does not bother to budge. “Damn, and I thought you liked talkin’ about your ‘Lady Ann,’ Mona.”

Akira does not miss Morgana’s withering look. In an effort to placate him, the teen reaches over and strokes Morgana’s favorite spot on his head despite the not-cat’s silent protests. Akira then leans over and speaks low into Morgana’s ears. “You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I know you wanted to skip out since…”

The silence speaks for itself. Morgana looks at him, and the former appears deep in thought, tail swaying as if searching for answers. Eventually, the tail comes to a halt. “Thanks,” he purrs, and Akira isn’t entirely convinced if it’s intentional or not. “But I got this.”

Akira feels a tug at the corners of his mouth. Satisfied, he leans back, watching Morgana take center stage.

“As someone who knows Lady Ann the best,” Morgana declares, chin held high, “I think it’s important that we consider other options. What if she isn’t dating any of them?”

Leblanc’s resident dyed blond groans. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you like her!”

“Am not!”

“Uh,” Futaba butts in, “are we gonna ignore the fact that none of us updated Mona on what we’re talking about, yet he still responds like he’s been here?”

Morgana seethes out an impatient “I live here,” while Akira says effectively the same thing, only with a switch of the pronouns. Okay, that didn’t work. Clearly, Akira needs a new plan—one that involves less bickering with an animal so they don’t all look insane when an innocent customer decides to walk in and witnesses the incarnate of chaos and more… amicable relations. More bets, perhaps.

Curiously enough, it’s Haru who takes the reins, sending Akira a small smile before speaking up. “Maybe if Mona-chan understands why we think Ann has a significant other, he can decide for himself.”

Akira may be a heathen, but God bless Haru.

As Akira is internally singing his praises, the conversation thankfully segues back to Ann and a hyper analysis of her love life. Futaba mentions how she first found out about Ann’s secret romance after forgetting to debug the café. (Akechi then sends Akira an alarmed look the latter chooses to dutifully ignore.) Haru continues that line of thought, recalling Ann’s inquiries regarding the language of flowers and the like, and Akira makes sure to ignore that tinge of jealousy stirring in his stomach even though he knows that Ann knows his hard work in memorizing a bunch of flower symbolism for his job in the underground mall.

He sighs and mentally sweeps his slight envy under the rug. Priorities, Akira.

It’s not until Makoto clears her throat and poses the daunting question of “So, do you believe us?” to Morgana that all eyes fall back on the not-cat, waiting patiently.

The sway of his tail falters. “... Yes,” he bites out. Morgana’s face contorts like he’s devoured a lemon. “Guess this is what you unrequited love, huh?”

Luckily, Ryuji has the decency to stay quiet as Haru breathes an apologetic “Oh, Mona-chan…” and pets the not-cat’s torso.

The group falls into an almost comfortable silence, save for Morgana’s drooping ears that nearly makes Akira leap forward and shower him with many affectionate head pats. Akira otherwise lets his mind wander. He drifts between the scent of Sojiro’s curry ingrained in the dark walls of Leblanc and his daydream of a flustered Ann grasping the hands of a faceless lover, rotating from Mika to Shiho to a mixture of the two’s features. The arch of the rival model’s groomed eyebrows and the doe eyes of the ex-Shujin student are rolled into one.

Features, Akira absently thinks, and for some reason, his eyes linger on the jaunt of a certain detective’s chin, the curve of his lithe neck, the way he carefully tucks a chestnut-colored lock behind his ear. His eyebrows, not unlike Mika’s, are furrowed. Dark, gloved hands hold a gray smartphone that is definitely not bugged by someone that rhymes with Fakura Sutaba, and hazel eyes—red, if you catch them when the glint of the sunlight hits them just right—are fixated on the screen.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Akechi of all people, the same Akechi who never dares to back away from a challenge, continues the conversation, not bothering to look up from his phone.

(But it does come as a surprise, oddly enough. Because Akira, jolted out of his daydream and thrusted into reality, is looking, and he feels like he shouldn’t be.)

“Have we come to a conclusion about our findings then?” Akechi questions, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Pardon me,” Yusuke voices, “but I assumed you held no interest in Ann’s love life like the rest of us.”

Akechi, lo and behold, bears another classic (read: fake) smile of his. “I don’t particularly. However, it seems like you all are stumped, and I do enjoy a good mystery. After all, I am a detective, aren’t I?”

Akira resists the urge to point out how the unknown identity of Ann’s girlfriend is a far cry from a good mystery, much less anything more than petty gossip when not discussed amongst friends. Instead, he motions the brunet to continue with a flick of the wrist.

Finally, Akechi looks up. “Have any of you considered the antithesis to Morgana’s hypothesis?”

Ryuji frowns. “The… what?”

“I believe Akechi-kun is talking about the opposite of what Morgana initially thought,” clarifies Makoto. “Which means…”

The gears in Akira’s head turn by the end of Makoto’s unfinished remark. His mind swims around antithesis and Ann and the underlying yet unknown connection between the two, trying to grasp at a lost thread he’s determined to find. (Anntithesis! his brain unhelpfully supplies a beat later before he dismisses it completely.) He thinks back to what the group assessed before: selfies, flowers, the like. Selfies, flowers, the like.

Selfies.

… Were they selfies?

Akira is backtracking now, attempting to recreate the images Makoto and Haru had shown the rest of the group earlier in his head. He closes his eyes and thinks. Mika and Ann’s picture can be excused as a selfie, sure. The two were pressed close together in the photograph, shoulders bumping and heads tilting inward to stay in frame. A part of Ann’s arm was cut off from where they took the picture. Sly smirks on both of their photogenic faces.

By all means, it’s a regular, old photo. A selfie, likely.

Then, what about Ann and Shiho’s? Akira recalls Inokashira Park as the backdrop of the image, an abundance of green flooding his vision. He’s quite familiar with the area, too; jogging with the former track star there whenever his body can endure the brutality of cardio is one form of torture Akira will never forget.

If he recalls correctly, the photo was awfully similar to its counterpart. Heads inclined towards one another, shared smiles, and⁠—

Ann and Shiho were holding up peace signs, both pairs of arms visible in frame.

It’s a cliché to gasp. Akira knows this and does it anyway because one, he is surprised and two, he loves being dramatic. The act earns a rather bemused look from Akechi that’s immediately disguised as a roll of the eyes.

The rest of the thieves follow suit as realization dawns on them. Makoto nods. Futaba blinks. Ryuji’s jaw drops. Haru, polite as ever, raises a hand to mask the shock evident on her face. Morgana’s eyes go and widen to the size of Kamoshida’s golden medal, round and shimmering and unbelievable.

Yusuke is the last one to come around, and he barely manages to gather his bearings in time to ask, “Can it truly be…?”

A delightful ping rings in the still air.

“See for yourself,” Akechi says, voice breezy, and slides his phone down on the table.

“Do you think they’ve seen your Instagram post?”

Shiho asks this while peering over Ann’s shoulder, watching the likes accumulate at a rapid speed. The end of her ponytail brushes against the blonde’s nape. Ann struggles to suppress a giggle.

“Oh, maybe?” It comes out unsure, reluctant. Ann taps her chin. ”But my phone hasn’t blown up with text messages yet. And trust me, I would know when my friends saw it.”

The other model waves it off, nonchalant. “They’ll figure out soon enough anyway." A pause. Then, Mika sighs. “Looks like the entire population of Tokyo will, too. I don’t know why you wanted to do this, but I’m sure our agency is going to love capitalizing on it…”

“Ugh, agency shmagency!” Ann, who has no concept of personal space when it comes to these two, gathers both of the girls in her arms and gives them a tight squeeze. “How can I hide away my two amazing girlfriends from the world?”

Mika rolls her eyes, but the dust of pink coloring her cheeks gives her away. “Is she always this corny?”

Shiho snickers. “Oh, one hundred percent.”

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #goro akechi #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #ryuji sakamoto #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #来栖暁 #雨宮蓮 #高巻杏 #新島真 #坂本竜司

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wahbegan · 4 years

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I do fucking love the beginning of Dracula though

Jonathan Harker: Excuse me, ignorant and filthy peasant who I am going to laugh at straight to your unwashed and superstitious face, could you please direct me to the nearest road to that ancient, decrepit, terrifying castle owned by Count Son of the Devil? I have a real estate transaction for a similarly old, decrepit, and terrifying castle in my home country to finalize with him, and while I know it’s awfully late, he specified it quite important I get there before or during......am I translating this correctly? Evil Witch Orgy Night???

Romani Extra 47: Yeah look i guess it’s not my table but uhh you’re absolutely definitely gonna die dude you at least want a crucifix or something?

Jonathan Harker: BAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh you and your g*psy traditions i’m so sorry i’m laughing you and your culture are just so incredibly stupid it borders on clinical insanity. Oh well, off I go with the unnaturally strong coach driver with G L O W I N G R E D E Y E S

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 5 years

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Can you be more specific on why you like Arya and Sansa? So many people like Arya for being strong and fierce, but for some reasons so many hate Sansa for what she was like in the earlier seasons. Can you give specific instances why you like both of them? And why not Daenerys? Thanks! (I'm just really curious, please indulge me :) )

I’m going to talk about Dany first (and I’m sticking to the show here, though I have read the books, but they’re never getting finished, let’s be real), and then I'll put my thoughts on Sansa and Arya in another post (hey, you asked, so I’m delivering) because otherwise this will go on forever and it’s cleaner this way. Putting a ‘read more’ here because this is long (lol I’m at work I should be working)

To preface, I would not dislike Daenerys as much as I do if she didn’t want to be queen. I’ll touch on this when I talk about Arya, but I appreciate characters who have the self-awareness required to know who and what they are. Since Daenerys does want to rule Westeros, I have so many issues.

I also think the eighth season is going to see her turning on most of the people she’s currently allied with and I think the catalyst for that is the discovery that Jon is the legitimate child of Rhaegar and Lyanna, and therefore his claim to the throne supersedes hers. I’ll gladly admit that I’m wrong if I am, but right now I don’t think I am. Here’s why.

1) She is an ineffective ruler

After Dany liberated the slave cities of Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen, she stayed to rule and did a terrible job of it. Nobody in particular was better off, the majority of the slaves she freed were homeless and scraping for food in mess halls, and she killed elders who had spoken out against slavery without even listening to what any of them had to say. She has the mind for conquering, not for ruling.

(side note: why does she even want to be queen? It’s something she just seemed to jump on in season two without ever reasoning it out, and from there on in it’s like an obsession that has grown inside her. Now she says she wants to make the world a better place but she hasn’t the skills to do it. It should be enough for her to liberate oppressed societies and allow somebody qualified to fix them. But it’s not.)

The truth is, Meereen saw no real improvement until after Dany skipped town on Drogon, because Tyrion had the idea to replace the slave trade with actual trade. He made changes that impacted the city’s economy and allowed its residents to start supporting themselves, so of course, the slavers attacked just as Dany came back, at which point her bright idea was to decimate an entire armada when she needed ships. Tyrion had to talk her out of it. Which brings me to her next point.

2) She requires constant babysitting

It’s ironic to me that Tyrion told Cersei that “the difference” between Cersei and Daenerys is that Dany knows herself well enough to hire advisors who tell her not to do dumb, impulsive things, firstly because that is such a low bar, Tyrion! There are people out there (Sansa) who do not require that kind of monitoring! Secondly because Cersei is far more self-aware than Dany.

Cersei knows that the things she does are bad and does them anyway because fuck it, she knows she wants power for power’s sake. Dany has such a narrow view of justice that actually thinks she’s being righteous when she burns people to death (more on that later) and that is the most dangerous mindset a leader can have. Compare that, if you will, to Sansa, who quite sensibly told Arya that chopping off heads might feel good but that’s not the way to make people work together. Jorah, Tyrion and Jon have all had to speak out against Dany’s more violent predilections and she’s fast running out of people she wants to listen to. She and Tyrion are certainly hanging on by a thread. Which brings me to my next point.

3) She mistreats her own Hand

The relationship between Dany and Tyrion absolutely reeks of Aerys and Tywin, their respective fathers, who were the best of friends until Aerys’ jealousy and paranoia forced them to opposite sides of a bloody war. Dany is all too happy to take credit for Tyrion’s best ideas when they work (and he is happy to let her) but as soon as one of his plans go wrong she whirls on him and berates him like he’s a piece of trash. Everything’s his fault when a plan goes wrong.

When he brought up the matter of the succession she accused him of plotting her death with his brother, which not only is batshit insane but proves that Daenerys gives far less of a shit about the future of Westeros than she claims to, because if she cared that much, she’d care about planning to carry on the legacy she wants to build. She can’t seem to forgive Tyrion for the heinous crime of…loving his siblings? Trying to broker the most peaceful end to the war? Not wanting his brother to die?

Honestly, her treatment of Tyrion is one of the most telling aspects of her character and I am aghast that nobody seems to be talking about it.

4) Like all of the maddest Targaryens before her, she gets off on burning people

This one isn’t subtle at all. Sorry to drop the intellectual veneer for a moment but she fucking loves that shit. It doesn’t bother her a whit to watch people scream as they’re being burned alive. She takes pleasure in burning people, you can see the satisfaction on her face, and a good leader should never take pleasure in something like that.

(FYI people like to mention how Sansa smiled when Ramsay’s dogs ate him when I make this point and to that I blow a raspberry. That was her personal moment of justice against her rapist and abuser, not the lord of some house who wouldn’t submit to her, there is no fair comparison)

Dany was smiling like a satisfied cat when she burned down the temple of the Dosh Khaleen and killed everybody inside it, which was something she did to seize power, by the way. She didn’t do it to stick it to a bunch of misogynists, though I’m sure that was an added bonus. She did the exact same thing Cersei did to the Sept of Baelor and for the exact same reasons, yet only one of them is painted as a villain by the viewing public even though you can argue that Cersei was also sticking it to misogynists when she killed the High Sparrow. The only reason for that is that Dany was given humble origins while the narrative told us that Cersei was bad from the very beginning.

Theon is still beating himself up for killing and burning those two farm boys — as he should. Stannis burned his daughter and everyone was horrified. Jon was so repulsed to watch Mance Rayder burn that he defied Stannis and shot him in the heart. How many times is the show going to have to tell us that burning people alive is a terrible act of evil before people stop cheering Dany on for it? When Ned Stark was Lord of Winterfell, he understood and felt the weight of executing a man. Jon feels the weight of it, too, as we’ve seen on a couple of occasions. Sansa clearly thought long and hard about executing Petyr — that’s what her moment of reflection on the battlements was meant to show us. Dany just… doesn’t care. I think she cared a bit when she had Daario execute Mossador, but I can’t think of any other occasion where she has been directly responsible for a death and been remotely bothered by it.

So. yes.

I think the reason a lot of people – and in particular a lot of women – support Daenerys is because she has a girl power narrative. She does have a girl power narrative, it’s true, but that is not a good enough reason to support a character who on so many occasions has proven herself to be unqualified for the job she wants, not to mention bordering on dangerously unhinged and increasingly paranoid. In that sense I think her season 1 narrative was genius, because her origins and the way in which she started to gain power (as well as her gender) has granted her a kind of automatic forgiveness for behaviours that several male characters – and Cersei, most importantly, because she also has a girl power narrative (and she and Dany are two peas in a pod) but the show told us she was a baddie from episode one – would be dragged through the mud for. And I’m sorry, but it’s not good enough for me. I’m not going to support a powerful female character just because she’s a powerful female character who did some good things once. Powerful women can be good or bad.

Some other points re: Daenerys

The dragons are weapons of mass destruction and need to be killed. They’re nukes with wings. She’s burned her own people with those monsters because fire doesn’t fucking differentiate. Sorry not sorry.

The Targaryens are literally GRRM’s interpretation of the Aryan race. It’s practically in their name.

“I have tried to make it explicit in the novels that the dragons are destructive forces, and Dany has found that out as the tried to rule the city of Meereen and be queen there. She has the power to destroy, she can wipe out entire cities, and we certainly see that in Fire and Blood, we see the dragons wiping out entire armies, wiping out towns and cities, destroying them, but that doesn’t necessarily enable you to rule – it just enables you to destroy.” – George R R Martin, folks.

One of the show’s directors, Jack Bender, made a reference to Hitler when talking about her. He said we should be “horrified” by her. No shit, Jack. No shit.

“Do you wonder if the gods ever get lonely?” Just… this line. Get a grip, woman.

#Game of Thrones #rambling

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

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Fate, or Something like It

HAPP BELATED BIRTHDAY BAE @yeoltidecarol 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 I hope you enjoy soft shameless Katyeol fanfics because *tosses confetti* HERE YOU GO FERN 💕💕💕💕💕💕

WEDNESDAY

‘Can you believe we're finally here?' your friend says to your right before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You sigh. 'Thank God, this year has been four thousand years long.’

Turning, you watch her take in the Chicago skyline, drenched in a rosy sunset light. The excitement on her face mirrors the electric joy running through your veins.

'Who are you most excited for?' she asks.

Pursing your lips you run through the lineup in your mind. 'Tool, for sure. I can't believe they're here. I'm going to die. Hmmm. Bazzi will be AMAZING. ODESZA's set is going to blow my mind.'

'What about that guy? The one you spammed me with last week that does the electric stuff and plays guitar?' she interrupts. 'Lonely? Is that him?'

You stop mid-stride and feel your heart skip a beat at his name. 'Fuck. That's right. Loey is performing Saturday night. It doesn't feel real, I can't believe they somehow landed him last minute.'

When you turn she's smirking at you. 'There it is, I almost thought you forgot.'

Pursing your lips you glare at her until she laughs. 'Like I could forget. His voice is everything I'm? His EP is blowing up, I can't believe we're going to see him live. I keep blocking it out, it's too good to be real. Pinch me, am I dreaming?'

'I won't pinch you, I’m opposed to violence,' she laughs. 'I will support you in eating though. Let's get dinner I'm starving,' she whines, rubbing her stomach.

THURSDAY

The energy in the dorm is already buzzing when you finally drag yourself from bed after ten. But the first day of Lollapalooza is too exciting for you to care about being tired. You and Jess make your way to breakfast, weaving through a sea of similarly antsy festivalgoers.

After shoving some food in your faces the two of you head down to the entrance, aiming to be some of the first people in the gates. Something in you unwinds, relaxes, as you stand in front of the big industrial fans that line the bridge into Grant Park. This is your home, this is you. Away from work and bills and the stress and minutiae of everyday life.

Here there is only music and dancing and community and the intangible sense of life operating on hyperdrive. Already the feeling of your everyday life is melting off of you in the sweltering midday heat. You know by the end of the weekend you'll be stripped bare, filled to the bone by a haze of dancing and alcohol and the kind of connection that can only come from sharing something amazing with an entire city full of people.

Next to you Jess pulls out her phone, holding it up at an angle and making a peace sign. The sight makes you smile and tightens your chest with a feeling akin to jealousy and desire but gentler than either. Longing is what you decide to call it before you shake yourself from your thoughts.

'Is Min dying cause he misses you yet?' you ask when she hits send, nudging her shoulder with yours.

She turns to you, beaming, a blush coloring her cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with love. 'He says he's counting down the minutes until we're back together.'

You laugh and lean your head briefly on her shoulder. 'That's so gross, I fucking love it.'

She wrinkles her nose and laughs. 'I know, right? Hey, what can I say? The man makes me mush. At least it's mutual.'

'Maybe you'll meet the love of your life here?' she carries on, raising and lowering a shoulder and giving you a wink.

'Yeah, right,' you counter, sarcastically. 'I think if the universe was going to send me the love of my life they'd have to literally smack into me to get me to notice.'

The line finally brings you to the front and after a quick bag search you're through the gate. Once you're through the two of you pull out your phones and begin strategizing what shows you want to see and what you want to eat for lunch.

You both decide to grab a quick bite and then to swing by an acoustic set from a london-based R&B singer in one lounges. When you arrive the room is packed, probably because it's so hot outside you ascended to another plane of existence and the space is being cooled by big fans.

Neither you nor Jess mind. Good shows, in both your opinions, are worth just about anything. You can handle crowds.

The singer starts out and instantly you turn to each other, grins pasted on your faces. She's amazing, a thousand percent better live, and she was already phenomenal. Without a hint of hesitation you start swaying your hips to the beat and the two of you move closer around people lingering at the entrance.

A tall man moves to let you pass, his deep voice saying ‘after you’ sounds vividly familiar, but in an instant you’re lost in a sea of bodies and shake your head.

By the end of her set your hair is frizzed up from the heat, sweat and contentment running down your spine. It always astounds you how quickly you succumb to the world of the festival. Each one is different in its own way, but all they’re all alike in the way they remake you into someone more yourself.

Here you worry less, going where your desire and heart direct you. Here you feel free and confident and sensual in a way that your everyday life doesn't allow. Here you chase the high of the moment without the driving machinations of your mind forcing you to think of the future, of consequences.

After a walk through the merch tent and a stop into some of the sponsored tents the two of you decide it's officially time to grab a drink. When you join the line at the bar a man with broad back blocks your view. Something about the cap on his head, the line of his profile, catches your attention…

When you get to his ears you swallow a gasp. You practically pull Jess’ arm off in your jolt of realization.

‘What is it?’ she asks, confused.

You lean in close to whisper to her. ‘Fuck. Jess that’s uhhh… that’s him.’

She looks around. ‘Who?’

‘It’s Loey,’ you say, pointing to the tall man in front of you, doing your best to keep calm.

Her eyes go as wide as yours must be. ‘Holy shit. Well. Say something.’

Your heart feels like it leaves your body. ‘Say what?!’

‘I don’t know. ‘Hi’ is probably a good starting point?’ she laughs.

The energy coursing through you is equal parts terrified and excited. There’s something in the air, an electricity and a heat in the two feet that separate you from this man. It’s inexplicable, but the urge to reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, to press your face to his back and inhale, is bordering on insanity.

The thought is there, an image playing out in your mind. You’d tap him on the shoulder, give him your warmest smile. Let him know you like his music in a subtle enough way that there’s no pressure on him if he doesn’t want conversation. He’d return the smile, drawn by your energy and obvious knowledge of music. Maybe the two of you would…

But no. You shake your head and wipe the image from your mind. ‘I can’t bother him,’ you whisper back, your shoulders slumping. ‘Being this close is enough.’

Jess nods, instantly understanding. She wraps an arm around you and the line moves forward. He orders a beer, the depth and warmth of his voice wraps around you even tighter than her arm does, and you know the sensation will stay with you much longer.

Beer in hand, he turns to leave. He turns to look around and notices you behind him, his mouth tugging into a soft grin. With a polite nod he heads off, taking what feels like your heart with him.

The brief glance you get of his face before he moves into the crowd and disappears is disastrous for your sanity. He’s even more handsome than you imagined. With a sigh you step up to order, determined to let the moment pass, but it sits low in your gut waiting, tormenting you with what might have been if you’d said something.

That afternoon at Bazzi’s show you and Jess use your passes from work to get backstage and practically bounce with excitement while you wait for the show to start.

‘I’m gonna die. Literally. My soul will leave my body,’ Jess says, holding her drink in the air in celebration.

‘Here’s to that,’ you agree and clink cans with her.

Finally, the lights dim and the show starts. The two of you jam out with the small crowd of fellow VIPs on this side of the stage. One of your absolute favorite songs starts but abruptly your attention drawn from the singer to Jess elbowing you in the side.

‘What’s up?’ you yell over the music.

She discreetly points at the opposite side of the stage. In less than a second you find what she’s pointing at. Loey is watching your side of the stage with a fond smile. No, not this side of the stage - he’s watching you.

‘I think they call that fate my friend,’ she yells joyfully. ‘Or coincidence. I don’t know. Either way he’s obviously into you.’

You can’t help it, you turn and look around you to see if he might be staring at someone else. When you finally accept he’s definitely looking at you and turn back, he’s gone. Frantically you look around to see where he might have gone. Jess has resumed jamming out and you stand there for a moment, lost, wondering if you hallucinated the entire thing.

Someone taps on your shoulder and when you realize it’s him, standing this close to you, that sensation of electricity and heat surges through you once again.

‘Hi,’ you say over the music.

‘Hey,’ he starts, sticking his hands in his pockets, his lips pulling back into a shy smile that almost undoes you. ‘I’m Loey, but my real name is Chanyeol.’

‘I know,’ you counter, unable to stop smiling. You laugh when you realize what you said. ‘I know your music, I mean. I love it. I’m Kat.’

His cheeks color with pleasure. ‘Thank you, that’s nice to hear. This is all so -’ he gestures around at the stage, the crowd singing along with Bazzi, Lollapalooza in general. ‘Much. It’s nice that I know there’s at least one person here who likes my music.’

Your brow knits together in confusion. ‘Did you come here alone?’

He laughs and shakes his head. ‘No, no. I’m here with my manager and some other people from my label. But it’s been such a wild ride I haven’t felt connected to anyone in ages. Then I saw you dancing yesterday at Nao’s show. Then again at drinks...’

He reaches out a hand, ghosting it over your shoulder, before he realizes what he’s doing and checks the movement. The whole exchange, surrounded by the heat and energy of the crowd and Bazzi’s soothing voice, feels once again like a dream.

‘Then I get here and see you again, free and happy and dancing and I just -’ he continues. ‘I don’t know, I just feel like... I’m meant to know you.’

Something draws his attention and he pulls his phone from his pocket. A name shows on the screen and he sighs. After a few moments the call goes to voicemail.

He looks so conflicted you want to melt and run your thumb along the crease in his brows to undo it.

‘I have a meeting with my manager for the soundcheck,’ he says. ‘But will you give me your number? I want to see you again.’

You nod and he opens up a new contact. After he types in the number he tilts the phone back to himself to enter a name.

‘What did you save me as?’ you laugh, pretending to sneak a peek.

He meets your eyes and gives you a mischievous smirk. ‘That’s my secret for now.’ With a wave he makes his way through the crowd and disappears.

When you manage to come back to reality you look over at Jess and she’s giving you a knowing look. ‘Oh, no, there’s no way I could meet my soulmate here. Nope, absolutely not,’ she says loudly in an imitation of your voice and grins.

‘DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN?’ you call to her over the resounding chorus of the song.

‘YEP’ she answers, bumping hips with you.

Unknown Number 5:47pm: any chance you want to watch my set from backstage?

The text comes through while you and Jess are grabbing a quick dinner before heading to Loey’s show, umm, Chanyeol’s show, you guess. Reading the words you almost choke on your taco. As quickly as you can gather yourself together you type out a reply.

You 5:48pm: is that even a question??? You 5:48pm: just tell us where to go and your #1 fan will be there 😄 Chanyeol 5:48pm: 😊😊 Chanyeol 5:49pm: lake shore stage, round the back Chanyeol 5:49pm: i’ll tell them you’re coming You 5:49pm: on our way!

You can almost feel him grinning through the phone. After telling Jess the plan the two of you wolf down the rest of your food and start weaving your way through the crowd. The security guard hands you two passes the moment you walk up to him, with surprising ease.

‘I recognized you right away,’ he says with a smirk. ‘He said it would be the feistiest, most excited, tiny black-haired woman I’ve ever seen.’

You purse your lips and Jess cracks up next to you. ‘Come on, let’s go!’ she says, calling a thanks to the security guard.

The backstage area is filled with people milling around, checking the speakers and setting up equipment. Chanyeol is tuning a guitar, his hair falling across his forehead. The sight turns your heart to liquid.

He waves you over the moment he sees you. His energy is even more excited than the last time you saw him, no doubt due to his first major concert happening in oh, five minutes. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. Turning to look at Jess he gives her an apologetic smile.

‘Do you mind if I borrow her for a moment?’ he asks and she waves him away with an amused shake of her head.

He leads you to the walkway at the far side of the stage. It’s miraculously empty, only you and Chanyeol and the view of the harbor. Energy pours off him in waves, sending heat to every nerve ending in your body.

For several long seconds you stare at each other, both equally baffled and amused by the feeling that you’ve known each other for years, the obvious connection and attraction between you that somehow supersedes words.

The two of you cave to the desire to touch each other at the same moment. Stepping closer you fist your hands in the fabric of his shirt as his hands slide to cup your jaw on either side.

‘I’m glad you’re here for with me. The first,’ he says with a contented smile playing along his lips.

‘You’re going to be huge, you know,’ you say with confidence. ‘It’s the first concert of many.’

He shakes his head with a grin that barely hides his giddy excitement. He bends down and presses a kiss to your lips, full of passion and excitement. It must only last a second or two but the feeling of his lips against yours, his hands, calloused from guitar playing, holding your jaw, and the breeze spilling in off the harbor - all of it feels like it lasts a thousand lifetimes.

When he reluctantly pulls back he rests his forehead against yours. ‘No, I mean the first time I get to kiss you,’ he says softly. ‘My good luck charm.’

With a gentle kiss to your forehead and a wink he disappears back onto the stage. You hear the roar of the crowd, Chanyeol’s voice starting his set, the sound of a guitar - but all of it fades as you press your fingers to your lips, laughing at the way your day has somehow become a fantasy.

Eventually you make your way backstage in a haze, feeling like you’re flying. Jess takes one look at you and laughs.

‘He kissed you, huh?’

All you can do is nod and she shakes her head in amusement before grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the side of the stage so you can watch the show.

He’s amazing, you knew he would be. The passion in his voice, the lyrics that cut straight to your heart, the way he engages the crowd - you knew you were screwed the moment you saw him in the line for beer. Knew it in a way you couldn’t express rationally, and yet here you are, falling in love with a man you barely know and loving every second.

Once he finishes his set he moves to the side of the stage to speak who a woman who you assume is his manager. The crowd starts drifting off to the other side of the field where the next act has started playing. Chanyeol catches your eye and smiles, mouthing ‘I’ll be right there.’

He runs over and slips his hand into yours. ‘I was supposed to leave after my set, but I convinced my manager to let me fly out tomorrow morning so I could spend the night with you instead.’

It feels as though your heart has stopped beating. Jess squeezes your shoulder.

‘I can entertain myself tonight, I’ll meet up with Grace I know she’s around here somewhere too. Just text me if you’re going to be umm… not back tonight,’ she says pointing a finger at Chanyeol and narrowing her eyes in mock sternness.

He salutes her. ‘Yes, ma’am, I promise to take good care of her.’

‘Okay good. You were very good and clearly my friend likes you, so I’d hate to have to kill you.’

With another gesture signifying she’d be watching him she grins and exits the stage where you guys entered.

‘So, how about dinner?’ Chanyeol asks.

Dinner at an incredible hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant his friend recommended blends into walking hand in hand through the city. You’d both felt the connection instantly, but neither of you could imagine how similar you are - in musical taste, in food preferences, in travel dreams.

Something good and right is growing between you and it takes everything you have to not jump to conclusions past tonight.

When night sets, covering Chicago with a blanket of indigo sky sparkling with stars, Chanyeol say he has a show he thinks you’ll enjoy.

He guides you through the crowd of bodies, his warm, rough palm against yours feels like the only thing tethering you to the earth. The excitement of the audience is infectious, a living thing that joins the alcohol and desire flowing through your veins to make your body a live wire.

At last, the two of you break through near the front and Chanyeol turns to look down at you, squeezing your hand and giving you a lopsided smile you already know will be seared into your mind after this weekend is over.

The bass from the speakers is so loud and deep it shakes the ground around you. How fitting, you think, for the man attached to you is rapidly crumbling your world as you knew it.

The band is one of your favorites. You’d screamed out loud when you saw their name on the festival line up; but now that you’re here the chorus of one of their hit songs fades into the background, eclipsed by Chanyeol as he leans down to be heard over the music.

‘Our second.’ His lips brush your ear, the roughness of his cheek sending a thrill down your spine.

This kiss is longer, lingering. His hands roaming down your sides, searing heat along your skin covered only by your thin shirt. He tastes better than you could have every imagined. The world fades and the entire show passes in a blink of an eye, pressed against the railing kissing the man of your dreams.

When the show ends he pulls back, breathless. ‘Want to go back to my room?’

You nod, already wondering what the rest of him will taste like, what his hands will feel like in places that are currently covered lest you get an indecent exposure charge. The two of you take off at a steady speed for the exit to the park, laughing, your hand clasped in his.

FRIDAY

The first thing you see when you open your eyes is a naked chest. The second is early morning light filtering through the curtains around the man tangled with you.

For a few minutes you let yourself savor the leg pressed between your, the arm wrapped securely around your waist, the hand that even in sleep is protectively cradling your head.

The night floods back into your mind - the shower he’d started for you two before washing your hair and your body. The way he’d kneeled down, draped your leg over his shoulder before setting his mouth to your center and giving you your first explosive orgasm of the night. The shower sex that had followed, and the next several rounds in the bed you’re currently in.

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The teeth marks on his shoulder are a souvenir of his time in Chicago you’re delighted to send him home with.

The two of you had finally fallen asleep just as the sun had cleared the horizon. For a few more minutes you enjoy the warmth from his body before you allow reality to enter. The uncertainty and melancholy replaces the content that surrounded you like a bubble of peace. He’s leaving today, back halfway around the world.

He stirs and opens his eyes, the blissful smile on his face at seeing you next to him wipes away any worry you feel.

‘We’ll figure it out,’ he says with a sleepy smile before giving you a kiss. You tuck the words away inside your heart, letting them carry you through any worry or sadness you feel at his departure.

The morning is spent in almost silence, you helping him pack in between kisses and gentle touches. In the car ride to the airport he cradles you in his arms, raising the partition so the driver doesn’t see what’s going on. He doesn’t talk of the future but neither of you feels worried, you’ll see each other as soon as you can.

All too soon the car pulls up. ‘I’m leaving something with you,’ he says, meeting your eyes with a sudden intensity.

You purse your lips in confusion, digging through your purse trying to find whatever he stashed away. He laughs, resting his hands on top of yours to still the movement. He bends down so only you can hear.

‘I’m leaving my heart with you. And I don’t want it back.’ His velvet voice caresses your ear.

#BATHY HIRPDAY FRIEND <333 #ily

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