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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 8 months ago

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Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question.

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted.

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week.

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation.

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.”

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that.

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand.

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation.

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows.

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm.

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face.

“Nope,” you shrugged.

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest.

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought.

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again.

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after.

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience.

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.”

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again.

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro.

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before.

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control.

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up.

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight.

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response.

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible.

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned.

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone.

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen.

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone.

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off.

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.”

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut.

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position.

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand.

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head.

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?”

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head.

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him.

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked.

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips.

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question.

It’s him. You thought.

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target.

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him.

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself.

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him.

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him.

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you.

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you.

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail.

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms.

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down.

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag.

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home.

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares.

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head.

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions.

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation.

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be.

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally.

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?”

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him.

“Happy now?” Price asked.

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work?

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!”

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost.

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered.

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face.

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you.

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you.

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.”

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava.

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged.

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything.

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.”

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions.

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate.

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.”

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer.

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black.

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you.

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back.

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched.

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes.

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in.

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground.

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..”

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly.

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch.

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly.

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke.

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away.

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.”

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you.

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system.

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.”

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions.

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth.

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out.

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath. “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

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idlerin · 11 months ago

Text

EACH WORD FELL INTO PLACE

celebrity!akaashi keiji x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 8.6k

content — best friend's brother/sister's best friend trope, established relationship (in the other fics especially, this one eventually), can be read as a stand-alone ig, very fluffy hihi enjoy! (i certainly enjoyed writing it)

to love and be loved by akaashi keiji, a treasure not many get to behold.

AKAASHI KEIJI never thought he would be the type to experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing. A love that makes you lose all sensibility and makes you ponder on how to function like a proper human being. Such acts included breathing normally, blinking in the usual manner, and even thinking when the person beholding the affection is near. The kind of love that existed and repeated in countless romance novels, movies, and shows. Fictional. Unreal. Untrue. It’s not like he was much of a pessimist to think that he would never find love, more like, it was unbelievable for that kind of love to exist in reality as it frankly didn’t make any sense. How could someone lose all rationality because of one single person?

Keiji could vaguely remember his father talking about the day he met his mother, how, when he first saw her it felt as if he was shot in the heart. Not by an arrow, but by a bullet. How he was hit with a myriad of emotions, love and adoration above all. A burning sensation settled in and what left was the thought of needing to get to know their mother more, absolutely sure she was the one for him.

Keiji simply didn’t get it though, at the ripe age of ten, he didn't understand how a person could fall in love with someone they didn’t know well (which is why he thinks the notion of falling in love at first sight is impossible, you can feel attraction at first sight but surely not love). He soon discovered that love could sprout differently for people. His aunt and uncle for one fell in love after years of being friends, it didn’t hit them immediately that their bond would turn into something more and yet it did. His uncle described it as one day seeing the sun shine high up in the sky and realizing how bright it makes the world.

The blinding kind of love was simply one of the many ways people express their affection for one another. In the end, he concluded that the heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing kind of love wasn’t something he would ever be subjected to.

He grew curious about the subjectivity in an objective reality, this curiosity turned into an interest in writing. Which then turned into an interest in poetry and eventually, lyricism. He had found a love for literature that young kids usually don’t, this then had been a turning point in his life that wasn't abrupt but impactful, who knew rummaging in the attic looking for his nana’s old books would lead him to discover an abandoned guitar?

Just like his view on love and everything else, music was something that slowly but surely made its way into his heart. A passion begins to thread and twine to the fate directing his life.

And then he was hit by a bullet.

Unlike his father, it didn’t come abruptly and immensely after he laid eyes on you. It was slower, gradual, and not anything he expected at all. He’s known you for years, being his little sister’s closest friend. You were a constant presence in his home and you were even there to listen to his band when they were merely four kids having fun and following a dream. You were always the sweet type, and it blended well with his sister’s fierce attitude. Along the way he started thinking of you as a friend too, he could confide in you and you both shared easy conversations, how could you not be friends? You practically spent every single day in his house, you were more familiar than some of his cousins.

“I just want to graduate, why is this so hard?” you whine, a pout befalling your face, “Keiji, I swear you explained it really well, maybe something’s wrong with my brain!” your eyes were wide, looking at him as if you were truly worried something was wrong with you. It was one of the many days you spent in his home, and he offered to help when he noticed you kept glaring at a piece of paper on the counter. He asked where his sister was and you said that she was taking a nap, but you couldn’t give yourself the same pleasure without finishing your worksheet.

“Maybe you need to take a break for a moment,” he suggests, smiling idly at your expression. The pout didn’t rest and he reached out to pat you gently on the head, something he got used to doing. It’s not like he saw you as a child—he was only a year and a half older—but he could never help patting your head whenever you acted in such a cute manner.

“What will that do?” your shoulders loosen and you look up at him prettily under your lashes. That’s when Keiji becomes speechless for a moment, your gaze pierces through him and he doesn't hear what you said at first. He hadn’t noticed that he’d been staring for too long, you had to get him back to his senses by uttering, “Keiji?”

“Yes? I–uhm right uh, rest will give you the energy you need to process new information easily,” Keiji suddenly felt the need to stand up, so he did. You were pretty, yes, that’s not anything new. You’ve always been pretty in his eyes so why is it that he’s now acting so weirdly about it? He’s long since acknowledged that you’re pleasing to look at. Yes. So what? Right. He didn’t get to ponder much on that afternoon because he was soon bombarded with work when his band got scouted by an agent, he had rehearsals to worry about and people to impress. Plus, you’d always be there, so he doesn’t need to rush and put a name on anything.

Budding feelings they may be. Keiji didn't know exactly what it was, but he wasn't dumb to not have a hint to what's happening to him. He just didn't let himself be too caught up in it.

Your presence in the Akaashis' lives was so prominent that you were even invited to family gatherings. His aunts, uncles, and cousins became as familiar with you as a regular family member would. He was so used to your presence on trips as well, his mother treated you as her own and his sister was more than happy to have her best friend on their outings.

“Is [name] not joining?” he found himself asking when he was carrying his bags to the car, his family and him were on their way to a beach trip and naturally, he looked for you. He just got back after weeks of juggling his second year of college and his band. His family greeted him with a resort getaway to “ease him up a bit” according to his sister who also just got home from her first year in university.

His father started laughing and Keiji was confused as to what was so hilarious, his father didn’t leave him wondering for too long, “Glad to know you were also used to her being here!” and laughed more as if this was the funniest discovery in the world.

“Dear, what’s so funny? Is it not obvious Keiji thinks of [name] as a sister as well? Of course he’d look for her,” his mom shook her head at his dad, “Now stop laughing and get the other bags, I’m too tired to walk back in.”

A sister? His mom thinks he thought of you as a sister? That was… he has never entertained the idea. You were always just you. No matter how much he thought about it, he could just never see you as a sister.

“Why is [name] not coming?” he could not take not knowing the reason and asked Kaiya who was looking like she was trying to bury herself in her hoodie.

“Because she's busy,” Kaiya shrugged, bringing out her phone and leaning on the car.

Busy? It was summer, you’re supposed to have fun during summer. Even he (someone who is dedicated to upholding responsibilities even during summer break) is taking time for leisure because it’s summer. What could you possibly be busy with that would make you unable to come and enjoy a getaway? Why wasn’t his sister reacting more to this? Usually, Kaiya would be the one most sulky about not being able to bring you along with us despite her grown age. Was Keiji the only one finding your no-show bothering?

“You’re not whining about not seeing her? You’re all grown up,” Keiji smiles, trying to get a reaction out of his sister.

“Of course I’m all grown up! Don’t act like you’re that much older than me,” Kaiya glares, “And I see [name] almost every day, I’ll see her after the trip,” she stuck her tongue out as if taunting. She smirked right after and Keiji had his suspicions that Kaiya must be trying to get something out of him as well. They think too alike, he adores his sister but he'd rather she not pry much right now when he's distraught and trying to compose himself because it shouldn't be too obvious that he's feeling distraught.

Kaiya could see you whenever she wanted, you went to the same university and lived on campus together. Somehow that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, the reason is not that his sister specifically spends more time with you—that's a given because of your years of friendship—but because he couldn't spend much time with you. There was a clear difference.

He was feeling strange again, it was still a strange and unfamiliar feeling despite him not exactly being single his whole life. After months of being away for college and work, going home included seeing you and now that he doesn’t get to do exactly that is making him feel drowsy. He thought that he could sidetrack himself from further developing these feelings of his but it didn't work (he entertained a few people the past year because he was trying to get you off his mind—which was no use, you were always there and will always be there). Sometimes he'd think of you and he'd have the urge to message you (he gives in to his desire to talk to you most of the time), or sometimes he would look at old photos of you two—which was not much.

There was a time in the middle of band practice where he kept staring off into space because he remembered a time where you asked him to teach you how to play a few chords on a guitar and he remembered the way you laughed and how your skin felt when he was arranging your fingers on the strings properly. They had to start over and over on practicing a song because Keiji kept misremembering lines when the thought of you was making him flustered. Even Atsumu had started asking him if he would be alright performing for the gig they booked the following night. That was only one of the many instances you clouded his thoughts.

This feeling was driving him insane.

He took a deep breath to control himself because the thought of missing you was eating him away. He wanted to see you. You’ve exchanged texts and some calls over the past months but it wasn’t enough, you were one of the reasons he was looking forward to coming back home and he foolishly thought he would get to see you eventually because you’d always be there.

He’d like to take it back, it wasn’t like getting hit by a bullet per se, Keiji would equate it more to poison. The kind that slowly seeped in and made it so that it was difficult to breathe. To function. Keiji sighed and resigned himself to the irony that he was slowly ticking the boxes of the criteria that made him believe he was otherwise susceptible to the kind of blinding affection one could have towards someone.

Keiji didn’t know when exactly he entered the car, the whole journey sure felt enlightening with the way he could finally put a name to his actions towards you. He really couldn’t take it anymore and messaged you, asking why you couldn’t join the trip. It was better to hear it from you, and it also eased him a bit. Perhaps in a while, he could bring up meeting with you over the next weeks, that wouldn’t be too strange.

Fate was on his side and he got his wish of seeing you more frequently during summer break. You agreed to hang out with him and you spent it by usually going to the theaters, a museum, or simply eating out. He didn’t mind what you guys would do, he enjoyed even just passing by stores with you. Whenever Kaiya and you would hang out, you would drop by which would lead to conversations in the living room while waiting for his sister to get ready (Keiji knew his sister was also using him for a free ride but it’s not like he would complain since it means more time with you). The last week of the break was his sister’s birthday and he had enjoyed picking out gifts for her with your guidance, it did make him feel a bit empty knowing he’d have to spend months without being with you again.

Despite all his worries, he remained focused on the present. Him, Kaiya, you, and a few other of his cousins were splayed in a circle in the living room of the villa where Kaiya’s birthday was celebrated, playing a game of truth or dare. Keiji watched as Kaiya spun the bottle and as its momentum slowed, the tip of the bottle pointed at his cousin Hiroki.

A mischievous grin spread on Kaiya’s lips, she glanced once at you then back at Hiroki, “So, who would you say is your type? Answer honestly! It’s my birthday,” she slurred her words, the alcohol kicking in. If she couldn’t have been more obvious, she started clinging to you.

Hiroki looked like a deer in headlights, glancing at his sister Aiki beside him and narrowed his eyes at her, “You told her?”

“I did no such thing, you’re just too obvious,” Aiki stirred her glass of wine and winked at you whose smile was a bit strained, Keiji could tell you were starting to feel awkward. Are they trying to set you and Hiroki up? Keiji could easily put two and two together with how his cousins and sister were acting right now. He was a bit frustrated that he could only be a bystander along with his other cousins and a few of Kaiya’s other close friends, he was trying to suppress the urge to interfere.

“Answer now!” Kaiya pressed, shaking your arm while pointing a finger at Hiroki.

Keiji could only look at you. How would you react? Would you like that Hiroki feels that way about you? Keiji found himself clutching his drink. Would your cheeks warm? Would you feel light and fluttery? Would you feel the same way about Hiroki? Keiji was only giving himself pain with his train of thought.

Hiroki then quickly drank a shot of alcohol for liquid courage, “Fine, my ideal type is [name],” Hiroki then looked everywhere but you after exclaiming that to everyone in the room. The people around cheered and most started teasing you too.

Keiji locked eyes with you, he tilted his head as if asking a question, and of course, the only question coming to mind now was ‘What do you feel about Hiroki?’. It was how you felt that mattered the most rather than his disdain for the situation. Hiroki was nice enough, but surely you didn’t know each other that well for you to harbor any feelings for his cousin. What if you did? You knew of his cousin’s existence and saw him a lot (not enough). What if Keiji never realized you already had long-term feelings for someone else because he never liked to entertain the idea of you liking someone who wasn't him?

Keiji wanted to bang his head on the wall right now. He was thinking irrationally, but being selfish was natural because he liked you, right? It was okay that he was feeling like he wanted to grab your hand and run away to a place where it could just be you and him. He never tried asking you if you currently liked anyone so he could continue to live in the fantasy of the possibility that you liked him back.

You only blinked at him before you were distracted by his sister hovering over you and saying nonsense Keiji didn’t bother to listen to. It was getting very obvious that you wanted to escape the conversation, Keiji noticed how you fiddled with your shirt and the way your eyes kept wandering to the door. Keiji took it upon himself to pull his sister away from you, “Stop it, you’re making [name] and Hiroki uncomfortable.”

His sister looked up at him with an accusing gaze, “You!”

“Yes?” he successfully pried her away from you which earned him a small smile, the simple action from you felt as if a weight was removed from his shoulders.

“Stop taking my best friend away from me!” Kaiya states as Keiji lets her go, stomping back to her place beside you.

“What do you mean?” Keiji was honestly confused about what Kaiya meant, he would not be sorry if ever that would be the actual case though.

“Don’t you think I don’t know about you two hanging out without me!” Kaiya exclaimed, ah so that’s what she meant and here Keiji thought she had a hint about his feelings towards you, or perhaps she does? But Kaiya was too drunk right now to think coherently.

“Everyone knows Keiji actually has two sisters,” Aiki laughs, giving Keiji that distraught feeling once again. Does everyone in his family think Keiji treats you like a sister? Or do they think he could never feel that way about you? Why? What can he do to make them stop thinking like that? What if you thought you were like a sister to him? Keiji could feel nothing but panic.

Later that night Keiji found you alone out in the gardens of the villa, it looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time sleeping.

“Can’t sleep?” he calls out, startling you. You turn to him with your shawl wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you visibly relax when you see that it was just him.

A smile spread on your face, “Yeah, you too?”

Keiji nodded and watched as you sat on the bench, he walked towards you and leaned on the tree beside it. He wouldn’t be able to think of the right words to say if he was sitting right next to you, he was still hung up on what happened earlier this evening.

“So… I have to get back to campus the day after tomorrow,” you broke the silence, sighing after you laid out your news.

“Ah,” was the only thing Akaashi could say to the reminder that your time together was limited, “I’m leaving the same day, the weeks sure went by fast.”

That’s not what he really wanted to say though, he wanted to question you about what you felt when Hiroki practically said he liked you. Keiji wanted to know if you would be alright with seeing him again in the near future, you didn’t have to waste money on commuting, he could drive to you. Perhaps you could even attend some of his gigs, it would be exhilarating to see you watch him again. He wanted to say a lot of things to you but the only thing he could say was, “I don’t think of you like a sister.”

“Huh?” you looked up at him under your lashes, the moonlight set its rays upon you and it was similar to that moment in his kitchen a year ago. The moment that made him realize he was feeling for you deeper than he should.

“I wanted to clarify that I don’t think of you as a sister, everyone seems to get the wrong idea,” Keiji took a deep breath, he was so near to telling the truth that he was finding it difficult to breathe again. He was staring right into you and if the truth didn’t spill from his lips, he wondered if you could see it in his eyes, “They were right about one thing though.”

As if hypnotized, you stayed in place as Akaashi couldn’t restrain himself anymore and reached for your hand, catching it firmly in his grasp, “You mean a lot to me.”

“I… you mean a lot to me too, Keiji,” those words that came from your sweet voice was similar to harmony in his ears, it brought out an overwhelming feeling in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to be close to you. He can’t do that yet though, it’s not the right time.

Akaashi Keiji never thought he would experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing, but he was wrong. Every moment spent with you proved it wrong, what else could explain the loss of sense and rationality whenever you were near? But he was still him after all. So he would approach this in the only way he knows, slowly but surely. You were worth it after all.

That’s why it didn’t matter how long it took for him to profess his love for you, he needs to make sure that he’s shown you that his love deserves to be reciprocated. That he deserves someone as precious as you.

It was never easy, he never expected that it would just be easy. Yet the day came when he held your hand tightly in his once again, his nerves barely being suppressed as he told you the reason for his years of pining. How he liked you, he liked you so much he could barely remember how he was before harboring feelings for you. It was blissful, it couldn’t be anything else but. He could finally be with you, after all, he had the right to be with you and it made him extremely happy. He would always be caught grinning to himself, it was to the point that Suna started asking him if he was alright because of his weird behavior. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to show you off to the world.

Although, a certain request from you made it difficult to do just that. You had asked him if you both could keep your relationship a secret because of his growing fame and you didn’t want to be caught up in that world of his. He respected your decision and was willing to follow whatever you said. Your relationship lasted for many hours, days, and months. Even if he couldn’t spend a lot of time with you in the later years because of his job and there were rough times that occurred, his love for you outweighed. His resolve remained, that it didn’t matter how much time has or will pass, his love for you would never waver.

His heart felt as if it was pumping a hundred and twenty beats per minute, a single text from you got this reaction out of him. Even with years of being together, he could still never function normally around you. He had just gotten a text in the middle of his post-concert celebratory party with his bandmates and some of the other staff. It was a simple text—two words, six letters.

My Love 2:44 AM I’m here :) [insert picture of hotel lobby]

The familiar lobby of the hotel they were staying in for the week was clear in the picture. Akaashi was speechless, how could you be here? Was he dreaming? It was a thousand miles away from home but you’re here? For him? You were here for him?

He couldn’t leave his seat fast enough.

“Where are you going?” Sakusa asks. Akaashi didn’t think anyone would take notice if he suddenly left, but this was Sakusa here, he was simple enough to brush off, Atsumu would be more meddlesome.

“Hotel,” Akaashi started moving before he could be asked to elaborate, he couldn’t wait to see you already. He hurriedly put his cap on and passed by Sakusa once again.

“Hey, you’re still holding your dri–” Akaashi didn’t stay to hear the rest, he was feeling restless at the thought of you patiently waiting for him. He was out of the doors of the private room within minutes.

“Akaashi-san!” a hand was on his shoulder. Why does the world despise him at this very moment? He looked around and spotted Suna’s assistant. He should be glad that at least it wasn’t a fan, he loved his fans dearly but they would be more difficult to bypass. Turns out she was looking for Suna himself and couldn’t find the room. Akaashi quickly led her to the right place before rushing out again, he then realized he was still holding onto a drink and quickly left that on a counter. He should be walking faster so nothing else would stand in the way of him wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth after so many months of longing.

He was practically running towards his car, luckily he was still sane enough to drive properly. You would scold him for being reckless while driving, it was good that the hotel was only a few minutes away. Though it was a very agonizing ten minutes, the world was testing out his patience.

Finally, finally, he was in front of the doors which were the only thing separating him from you.

Once he gets inside, he sets his gaze on you immediately. Your shining eyes met his and you stood up from your seat, he hadn’t had a care in the world as he practically ran towards you and pulled you into an embrace. He should be thinking if his actions would earn him a trending article but he couldn’t find himself to care. The world will find out sooner or later how much you mean to him. He buried his face in your hair and hugged you impossibly tighter.

“Love, It’s a bit hard to breathe,” you pat him on his back, he can feel your grin on his shoulder.

“That’s exactly how I felt when you sent me that text message,” Keiji replies, hand clutching the back of your head, soaking in the reality that you’re actually here with him.

You fake a gasp, “So I deserve this?”

Akaashi gave a hum as a ‘yes’, “You deserve to be smothered with much more affection too,” he kissed the side of your head.

“Save that for later, please,” you say, warily looking at your surroundings, only the receptionist turning a blind eye was present.

He wastes no time and hesitantly lets you go in order to gather your suitcase, he intertwines your hand with his free hand. He leads you to the elevator and impatiently pushes the button to his floor. You, on the other hand, were leaning on his biceps as your eyes kept fluttering shut due to drowsiness from your flight. You left for your flight immediately after getting off work and you were tired from the hecticness.

Once you both arrived at Akaashi’s room, he spent no less than a minute putting things like his car keys and your suitcase away before pulling you towards the bedroom. He sat you down on the mattress and you had no time to protest (not like you would) before he placed all of his weight above you. With your back to the softness of the silky cover, you contentedly hummed and closed your eyes for a brief moment, “I need to change.”

“Five minutes,” Keiji then begins to caress your arms and bury his head on your chest, breathing you in once more.

Your hands fled to his hair, massaging the strands of raven and kissing the crown of his head, “I’ll only be staying for three days.”

A sound similar to a groan escaped from his throat, “That’s too soon.”

“I have a job too,” you laugh, “I was lucky enough to exchange with one of my coworkers so I could leave this weekend.”

“I miss you already,” Keiji practically whines, unlike his usual character.

“Don’t miss me while I’m still here,” you tugged at some of the strands on the back of his head, “And we’ll see each other again in three weeks, remember?” pertaining to their band’s final concert being held back in Japan, you would be watching the show alongside his family—who still don’t know about your relationship, the both of you have been having a difficult time bringing it up.

“Three weeks too long,” Keiji finally rose from half-suffocating you with his weight and instead started to look for clothes he could give you to change into, “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m not the one flying from country to country and performing for almost three hours every night,” you sat on the bed, using your elbows as support as you watched him shuffle through his luggage.

“Not every night,” Keiji comments before rising and handing you his clothes which you placed on your lap. He stood between your legs and used a hand to tilt your head up towards him, he was looking at you so intensely.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him as you now only realize the slight haziness in his gaze. You knew he was in a mini celebration an hour before being here, but he said he hadn’t planned on drinking, “And you drove here?”

Keiji shook his head, drunk on you, possibly, “I barely had a glass, just to entertain the staff. I drove here safely, I swear.”

“You better have,” you give one more pointed look at him before falling back on the bed, you close your eyes. You were getting heavy-eyed, soon, sleep will win you over.

“You’re the one who said you had to change, only a few minutes have passed,” Akaashi chides you.

You groaned and opened one of your eyes and raised an arm, “Do it for me.”

Akaashi raised a brow, you were getting into one of your moods he was all too familiar with. Who was he to deny your request? He pulled you up to a sitting position once again, his hands on the hem of your shirt. Before he pulled it off you, he glanced up only to see you smiling languidly at him, “You love me so much,” you begin to tease.

“I do,” Keiji smiles softly at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Hello! Attention to [l/n] [name].”

You look at Kaiya who has been trying to get your attention for the past minute, “Sorry?” you give her a sheepish smile, your thoughts were on the mini-vacation you let yourself have with Akaashi a month ago. You spent the past thirty minutes or so letting her family simply drag you around because you were distracted by the crowd at Ikarus’ concert. You were waiting outside because Keiji’s mother wanted to fall in line and buy merch. Kaiya complained that they could just ask Keiji for the items she wanted but her mother shushed her saying that wasn’t as authentic. Keiji’s mom was set on having the “full fan experience”.

“Why are you so dazed?” she tilted her head to the side, which awfully reminded you of Keiji (you started missing him even more). “Because you’re seeing my brother?” Kaiya scrunched up her face and made a gagging sound, “Did you not just see him a few weeks ago?”

You started looking around, sighing in relief when you saw that Akaashi’s father was with his wife, “Watch what you say,” you pouted.

Kaiya glanced at where you were looking, “When are you planning to tell them?”

“Soon,” you shrugged, you admit you were still nervous about telling them about your long-term relationship with their son. It’s been years and you know it’s been long overdue, you were ready to face the backlash that would come with hiding your relationship from them for so long.

Kaiya shook her head at you and then proceeded to take something out of her purse, she laid out the card attached to a lanyard to you, “Before I forget, your backstage pass,” you took it from her gratefully. The glossy surface of the card hits the rays of the sun, and you observe the words ‘All Access’ shown under the band’s logo. It wasn’t the first time you’ve gone to his concerts so you were already familiar with the processes, you were even friendly with some of the staff.

“You girls go on ahead, it’s a bit hot and your mother is going to take a while,” Akaashi’s father jogs to you both and nudges Kaiya to go, “She’s raving on and on about having to get that mini version of Keiji and I admit I kind of want to get that version of their album with lots of little things inside too, I want to test out my luck and see if I could get your brother’s picture on a first try—you know those little cardboards with pictures right?”

“So you would rather see him in pictures rather than going inside and meeting the real deal?” Kaiya comments.

“Yes, now go,” Akaashi’s father smiles at you before running back to Mrs. Akaashi.

“Oh, whatever, let’s go,” Kaiya saunters to the arena as if she owned the place and you trailed behind her looking at the crowds of people waiting outside, the concert wasn’t starting in another three hours yet there were already tons who were in line. You kind of felt a bit bad because you could just go inside without any worries. These were people who adored the man you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend, not as much as you—you like to believe, no one knows and loves him more than you—but that was your more selfish side talking.

“Kaiya, do you even remember where the common room is?” you asked, your memory and sense of direction weren't well. The last time you went here was their opening concert which was over a year ago.

“Uh, no, but we’ll see someone we know soon,” Kaiya was confident, walking in a straight direction as if she knew where she was going. A bunch of the crew arranging lights and holding boxes were walking around but no faces you were familiar with. It wasn’t long before we were blocked by guards on the way to a segregated part of the building.

“Are you looking for the green room?” the guard asked, eyeing your passes and affirming that you were actually allowed to be here but the both of you clearly looked lost. Kaiya kept looking around, you thought she was acting suspicious (and the guard must think so too) so you grabbed her wrist to make her focus.

“I’m looking for my brother,” Kaiya took out her phone. You wanted to just ask the guard nicely to direct you guys to the waiting room.

“And your brother is…?” The guard looked like they wanted to get this over with too.

“Akaashi Keiji,” Kaiya looked up from her phone, “He said we should go to the dressing rooms,” she pointed at her device. You do not recall Keiji saying any of that, he hasn’t opened his phone in a while, he usually doesn’t use it hours before a performance to focus. You looked at Kaiya, wondering what she was planning up her sleeves.

“Kaiya-san? [name]-san?” a soft-spoken voice interrupted, the both of you turned to see Rika, Sakusa’s personal assistant if you remembered correctly. The familiar face came to you both when you needed it, “Are you guys looking for Akaashi-san? You can follow me. I'm on the way there because my cousin needs his coffee to calm his pre-show nerves,” she rolled her eyes.

Rika nodded at the guard who let her and you both through, you smiled at them before following Rika.

“How are you, Rika-san?” you asked, taking one of her bags to carry it for her since she was holding coffee and a folder with her.

“Been better, my cousin’s being a huge headache to me because of… some things,” she shook her head as if she was shouldering the world's heaviest burdens, “How are you and Akaashi-san?”

“I’m fine—wait, what?” that caught you off-guard, it made you halt in your tracks.

“Uhm… was I wrong? Are you both not in a relationship? Kiyoomi thought you were together as well,” Rika started walking again and soon you saw more people in the hallways.

Kaiya began to cackle, “Aha! I told you it was obvious.”

“You’re not wrong, Rika-san but uhm is it really that obvious?” you start to heat up, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm.

“Well, he always has his eyes on you whenever you two are in the same room and after observing your interactions for the past years that’s what I concluded. If it’s a secret, I’m sure a lot of people don’t have a clue, this lot isn’t very observant after all,” Rika shrugged, “Anyways! This is the main sitting area, further back are the dressing rooms. The guys just got ready so they must be just lounging around somewhere alone, they’re all doing their pre-show rituals most likely.”

The both of you thanked Rika and you handed her bag back as she went on ahead mumbling about having to practically play hide and seek with how difficult Sakusa would be to find. Kaiya linked her arm with yours and dragged you once again to find the dressing room with Keiji’s name on it.

Once you both were in front of the door, Kaiya began her incessant knocking that is sure to give Keiji confusion and a headache all at once knowing his staff would never make such a ruckus, “I have a delivery for an Akaashi Keiji,” she was snickering in between her words while you shook your head at her antics.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of Keiji ladled with accessories he wouldn’t usually put on in day-to-day life, such as stud earrings you were really liking the look of. You looked up at him only to see his eyes which were decorated with a brownish hue on the lids that were already on yours. Perhaps Rika did have a point.

“[name],” he said breathlessly and was already holding your free hand that wasn’t being clutched by the other Akaashi on your side.

“I’m here too! You’re welcome!” Kaiya exclaimed, pulling you back so Keiji wouldn’t successfully get a hold of you.

“Hi Kaiya,” Keiji smiled at his sister, still not letting go of you too. Kaiya eyed that action and then looked up at her older brother who was looking at her blankly. Kaiya and you could both tell that Keiji was trying to tell her sister to leave, you were holding back your full-on grin.

“I accept thanks in the form of cash,” Kaiya patted your forearm before pushing you towards Keiji’s chest, the latter caught you in time and pulled you closer.

“Check your account after the show,” was Keiji’s only reply before bringing you inside and shutting the door.

“I feel as if your relationship has been turning transactional over the years,” you comment, finally letting out your laugh at the siblings’ antics. Kaiya meant well, of course, the monetary things were just a bonus. You looked around the room, spotting a guitar in the middle of the room and the mirrors on the walls which immediately caught your eye. A black settee was against the wall and a small glass table was on the side.

“I think she still holds a grudge against me for ‘taking you away’,” Keiji raises a hand to tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Because I was never sorry about it.”

His words gave you that fluttery feeling in your stomach that you’ve learned to become used to whenever you were around him, “Poor Kaiya,” you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he buried his face in your hand and placed a feather-light kiss on your palm.

Keiji talked to you with his eyes, it was a question and a request all at once. You bit your lower lip as you observed his plump, gloss-stained one's part. Suddenly, it was all too suffocating and difficult to breathe if you didn't lean your face against his and capture the oxygen you badly needed. It seems he was thinking the same thing because he started leaning closer to you as if the urge to be nearer couldn’t be subdued.

But before he could relieve both of your longings, you took a step back, blinking and urging your senses to come back to normal, “You just got ready,” the staff’s best interest in mind.

Akaashi tilted his head to the side, that hazy look back in his eyes, “It can be fixed,” he held both of your arms in his grasp, caressing them in a way to ease and comfort you.

“Your stylist will hate me,” you pointed out, yet you were engrossed with the way he pulled you towards the couch. You had a slight feeling you were being tricked in order for Akaashi to get what he wanted at this particular moment, which was the same thing you were depriving yourself of.

Keiji sat down and his hands went down to your upper leg and gently nudged so you followed down, the plush of your thighs settled on his. You internally scold yourself for giving in, he knows all of your weak points, one of them was how you could be easily distracted by him, “I’ll take the scolding, my love.”

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, you tugged on the hair on his nape as you let your breath tangle with his. He was intoxicating, did he know he was intoxicating? Your eyes fluttered to a close because you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips against his, he let out a satisfied groan on the back of his throat. You took in the woody scent of his cologne, the silken texture of his hair, and the pillowy almost velvet feel of his lips on yours. You should really be thinking of the consequences of your actions and the amount of people who will be burdened after this ordeal, yet, right now you could only enjoy the searing heat of his skin igniting with yours.

You felt one of his hands that held a grip on your thighs climb to your waist, he tugged on the material of your shirt before sliding his hand underneath. It elicited a small gasp from you which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

That was when your phone started to ring to an all too familiar tune, in a daze you pulled away from him, much to his opposition, “That’s Kaiya calling,” you say, leaning your forehead on his.

Akaashi took your phone out from your pocket before putting it on the side, “She can manage to wait for a few more seconds,” he said, placing soft kisses on your cheeks and eventually capturing your lips in his.

You laughed at his reasoning before losing yourself in him once again, his hand was splayed on your stomach, caressing your skin. He pulled away and pecked you on the lips once more before leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. You feel his teeth nip on your skin and a shiver runs over your spine.

The sudden opening of the door and a shriek made you freeze.

“Oh my!”

“Agh, my eyes!”

Akaashi’s reflexes were faster and more alert as he flipped you over so he would be hiding you from the door, he knew how you would be feeling uncomfortable with eyes on you and you were grateful his first thought was to shield you from further embarrassment. You glanced at his state, his messy hair and the stain on his lips smudged. You took it upon yourself to start fixing his appearance by wiping the sides of his mouth since it was your fault.

Keiji started straightening his clothes and patting down his hair as you did the same before he faced his parents and sister. You looked over his shoulder to see his mother frozen and you winced. Your heart started to race and not in the nice way Keiji made you feel, Keiji noticed this change in your demeanor as well and you felt him place his hand on yours in an effort to calm you down.

“This was probably why Kaiya was calling you,” Keiji mumbled under his breath, it was an effort to make the atmosphere lighter for you. He gave you a small smile before urging you to stand up. Keiji faced his parents and his sister who were all standing by the door, Kaiya was exaggeratingly fanning their mother who still wasn’t moving, with your hand still in his, he claimed, “[name] and I are dating, we have been for a few years now.”

A brief silence went over the room and it felt like an eternity for you when it was actually just a few seconds. Keiji’s father broke the smothering quietness.

“I knew it! You owe me, honey,” his father said with a loud cackle, his hand splayed out to Keiji’s mother beside him, “I told you our son’s feelings for dear [name] weren’t one-sided!”

“No!” their mother unfroze and put her hands in her palms.

You and Keiji were confused, even Kaiya stilled from her place.

“You bet on this happening?” Keiji asked, pulling you closer to his side so your nerves would rest.

“No, my son, your mother thought that you and [name] weren’t dating yet and that you were only pining for her while I said you both were already in a relationship. I had faith in you, son, I knew you had a backbone,” his father laughed in delight once more and swung an arm over his mother’s shoulders.

“We saw a picture of [name] in your room when we stayed at your penthouse a few months ago,” his mother tried to explain, hitting his father on the chest.

You recalled that very picture, you were wearing a sundress and were in the middle of looking back when Keiji took the picture. You were laughing and clutching your beach hat over your head in an attempt to not let the wind carry it away with the breeze. When you first saw it displayed in his room, you complained that there were a lot of better pictures of you but Keiji rebutted that this was the first one he took of you looking at him and that’s why he cherished it the most.

“Guess you guys were all worried for nothing!” Kaiya found herself and backed away from her parents, “I’d like to say that I was the original person who knew by the way, and I kept it in for so long. Not that they weren’t obvious,”

Akaashi clearly felt how you were being restless, he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Are you okay, love?”

You rub your wrist as you look up at him, “Well I’m honestly feeling a bit mortified.”

“You guys should've locked the door,” Kaiya said in a sing-song tone, “Imagine how I feel? I did not push you in this room for that. How could I possibly know you’d jump each other the moment you were left alone? I always thought you guys were rated G!”

You feel your face heating up once again and Keiji scolding his sister, “Perhaps you should go and call your stylist,” you suggest, trying to save some of your dignity.

Keiji eyes his sister and she got the hint and shuffled her parents—who were still arguing—out the door. You knew this wasn’t the end of it and a lot of explaining will have to be given to his parents (they wouldn’t leave you guys alone otherwise). With your eyes on the door, Keiji tried taking your attention by softly turning your face towards his.

“How do you feel?” he asks, smiling warmly at you.

“It’s… nice that we don’t have to hide it anymore,” you pressed your forehead on his chest, “I’m still feeling shy though.”

Keiji wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “How much time do you need to recover?”

“A minute and more of your hugs perhaps?” you ask, burying your face more in his chest. You should be urging him to go to his stylist already, but it wouldn’t be bad to keep him for another minute or so.

“I’m sorry they found out in an… unconventional way,” with your head pressed against his chest you could feel the rumble of his voice, the deep and lulling sound helping you calm down.

“Okay, I think I’m okay now,” you tried stepping away but he held you in your place, “Why?”

“I still need to recharge,” Keiji engulfs you in his warmth once more, “After this, it’s no more alone time. I’d have to wait another eight hours for that, so I need to get my fill now.”

Another round of silence baited and the only thing you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, it made you smile. Quiet moments with him came few and far in-between but when they did come, it felt as if the whole world was on your side and everything would always be okay.

“You’re so good to me, Keiji,” your voice cracks in the way of your emotions.

He responds by embracing you impossibly tighter, “What do you think about living together?” he drops the question, “It’s just something I’ve been thinking over, we don’t have to rush or anything but I just wanted to know what you think.”

It wouldn’t be too odd of a question, you practically spent every waking moment together whenever you both had the chance. That included staying over at each other’s places and spending most of your time together indoors. He’d love to spend more days waking up next to you, whenever you were there he felt nothing but peace and he wouldn’t mind for that feeling to stay with him for the rest of his life. The cheers of the crowd were exhilarating but the silence spent with you was more fulfilling.

“I’d love that,” you say, standing on your tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

You looked up at him under your lashes and Keiji felt that rush of intensifying feelings coming over him, his hands came to cup both of your cheeks as he placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, “I’d like to know of your thoughts in another matter that’s been on my mind,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“What is it?” your tone was light and airy. A few minutes from now you’ll have to give way for his staff to get him ready for the world. Right now you’d like to keep him to yourself, the world can wait.

“What do you think about marriage?”

HEADLINE:

Ikarus’ lead vocalist Akaashi Keiji announces he’s married!

leia @keijisrealgf I WAS SIMPING FOR A MARRIED MAN????? 4:20 PM · Jun 23 20XX

pia @ikarusavedme not even a girlfriend or an engagement.. but MARRIAGE 4:18 PM · Jun 23 20XX

kei @menexceptikarus he always gave family man vibes not surprised ngl 4:27 PM · Jun 23 20XX

a/n — alright so i went a bit overboard with this one JWBDEJXBDN ill say this is for taking so long to conclude akaashi's story lmao

general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @Eclecticlandmughoagie @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17

252 notes · View notes

michaelsfavgirl · 1 year ago

Text

NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: Smut, mention of mirror sex, creampie, toys, public play, foreplay, semi-exhibitionism, outdoor sex, somno, masturbation, size kink, mention of a foot fetish (oop), teasing, mike being whipped and pussydrunk, porn, oral (f & m), mike's enormous monster cock, edging, overstimulation, mention of dp…

Word Count: 4.8k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: You can tell I started to lose my sanity at the end

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pop, Rock and Soul aren't the only things he's the king of, he’s also most certainly the king of aftercare. Michael takes aftercare to a whole new level, turning it into an art form that rivals his mastery of music. For him, aftercare is not just an afterthought, it's as important as the act itself and the foreplay leading up to it. You’ll never catch him lacking

After the heat of passion has subsided, he gently guides you to lay on your shared, soft sheets, allowing you to catch your breath while he admires you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. His touch is tender as he massages your heated skin, soothing any lingering tension and leaving you feeling utterly cherished.

Alright I'm going off on a tangent, back to aftercare! When it comes to cleaning up after sex, Michael prefers to do things properly. Instead of reaching for a mere wet rag, he opts for a shower or bath, finding the experience infinitely more intimate. With his hands in the warm water, he lavishes attention on every inch of your body. While he may melt at the suggestion of you returning the favor, his focus remains solely on pampering you.

Physical exertion is strictly off-limits after sex. Michael won't hear of you doing anything even remotely taxing. Instead, cuddles are mandatory.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Michael's adoration for you is evident to anyone who crosses your path; it's as if you radiate an otherworldly beauty that captivates all who are fortunate enough to behold you. From the strands of your hair to the tips of your pedicured toes (which, of course, he insists on paying for), you are nothing short of a goddess walking among mortals. If you asked him to choose a favorite part of your exquisite form, he would malfunction, how dare you make him choose?

…however, when it comes to the sexual side of your relationship there are certain aspects of your body that he simply can't resist fixating on. He loves your hips, his large hands seem to have a mind of their own as they instinctively find their way there. Loves to squeeze them, especially when you’re in company and he needs to silently convey his yearning for you. Now if you’re chubby/plus size he’s obsessed with your love handles. Marveling at the way his fingers effortlessly find purchase in the soft folds of your flesh, when he’s taking your breath away with each thrust of his hips.

As for Michael's own body, it’s no surprise that he likes his hands. I mean have you seen them?! He knows the effect they have on you, he's caught you, not so discreetly, staring at them on multiple occasions. Loves to make you watch him play with your wet cunt in front of a mirror. He firmly yet gently cups your jaw to make sure your eyes stay glued to your reflection as he pushes his fingers into you, scissoring them in and out while slipping his thumb past your lips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified creampie lover. Yes, seeing your soft skin glistening with his pearly beads of cum is undeniably arousing but it's the sight of his spent oozing out of your sensitive pussy that truly drives him wild. That sight alone is enough to get his length hardening in an instant.

There's something undeniably primal about the way he fills you to the brim, until his own semen spills over, unable to be contained by your warmth, trickling down your slit in a deliciously messy display. The added messiness and the sinful squelching sounds only serve to send him into overdrive, fueling his desire to claim you again and again.

On occasions when there's no need to leave the confines of your home, Michael isn't shy about shoving his creamy mess deep into you with his thick fingers, then nonchalantly pulling up your panties as if it's the most natural thing in the world. He unashamedly revels in the sheer debauchery of watching you walk around with his cum dripping out of you, soaking your underwear. And just when you think he's done, he'll surprise you with an occasional check, slipping his warm hand under your panties to slide his fingers between your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit as he teases you about how drenched you are.

However, if Michael is feeling slightly remorseful or if you two have places to be, he'll opt for a more discreet approach. In such instances, he'll push a plug past your tight entrance, ensuring that his creamy aftermath is neatly contained within you. But this "tidiness" comes with a price—the plug he chooses is usually a remote-controlled vibrator, allowing him to maintain his dominance over you even when you're out in public.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Michael is an open book when it comes to sharing his fantasies and kinks with you, but there are certain desires he keeps hidden, reserved for the privacy of his own mind. One such secret, (yes there’s multiple) nestled deep within the recesses of his consciousness, is somnophilia.

There's an undeniable allure to the sight of you lost in slumber, your features softened by the peaceful embrace of unconsciousness. As you lie there, your slow, rhythmic breaths filling the room, Michael finds himself mesmerized by the sight of your sleeping form. He can’t help the blood pumping in his veins when you inch your leg higher, seeking a more comfortable position, whilst inadvertently revealing tantalizing glimpses of your clothed pussy.

He only wants to rub your little clit that's all, or maybe also slip a finger or two into your slippery hole. Can you blame him for wanting to make his precious girl feel good? For wanting you to wake you with that familiar, pleasurable sensation between your legs?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As much as the media wants to portray him as a clueless virgin to the public, behind closed doors, he's far from inexperienced. He's no prude and unfortunately for his mama he didn't wait till marriage. Trust he knows what he's doing. He knows his way around a bedroom, his every touch calculated to elicit gasps of ecstasy. With Michael, there's no fumbling or uncertainty.

In the beginning, when you first became intimate Michael made it his mission to commit to memory the nuances of your body and what turns you on. He focused solely on you, trying to gauge your reactions, see what brought you the most pleasure and what you didn’t seem too fond of. He learned to read your body like a well-worn book, to anticipate your every whim and desire before it even crossed your mind. His touch became more intuitive, his movements more fluid, as he effortlessly guided you to the heights of ecstasy and beyond.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

To him, it's an absurd question because He has no issue with bringing you the most pleasure in any position. and he's more than willing to explore them all with you. Of course, if you have one, he's more than happy to accommodate. Your satisfaction is his top priority, and he'll go out of his way to make sure you're getting exactly what you want.

But I know you want to know more so here are honorable mentions: The mating press: oh lord, he’s obsessed with how deep he can go. He revels in the sensation of plunging deep into your drooling cunt, his hips slamming against yours with a ferocity that borders on animalistic. Almost cums on the spot at the sight of your jaw unhinging as his tip kisses your cervix with each powerful thrust.

Standing up/against a wall: these are mainly reserved for quickies. Loves the urgency, the need to satisfy your needs in the heat of the moment. He delights in pushing you against a wall, his hands gripping your hips as he slides into your puffy cunt with abandon. Bonus points for watching your ass jiggle.

Low doggy style: prefers this one over the traditional doggy as you have to do even less. There's no need to strain your spine or hurt your elbows; no, instead all his sweet girl has to do is lie comfortably on the sheets and let him do all the work.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Michael has a fantastic sense of humor, most of his friends and family will agree. However, when it comes to matters of the bedroom, he adopts a more serious demeanor. He wants your thoughts to meld together, your senses attuned to the delicious stretch of his cock or the tantalizing sensation of his mouth between your legs. To introduce humor into such a sacred space would be to risk disrupting the delicate balance of pleasure and passion that he works so tirelessly to achieve.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Michael takes great pride in his grooming habits, ensuring that he is always impeccably clean and well-maintained, especially when it comes to his nether regions. While he may not be a fan of shaving, he keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed, finding that the hair adds a touch of masculinity to his appearance. However, he does make an exception when it comes to his balls, preferring to keep them smooth for your convenience and enjoyment.

As for his preference when it comes to your grooming habits, Michael has a strong preference for a full bush. This is factual, you can't tell me otherwise. He's a product of the 70s era, where lush and natural pubic hair was the norm. The wilder the better. He told me so himself.

Adores when it gets messy with his cum or feels it dampen with your arousal as he pleasures you. He loves the way the soft hairs brush against his cheeks when he's sucking on your clit or when your pubic hair tangles with his own as he thrusts deeply into you.

Plus when the two of you are lounging on the couch, boredom sometimes leads him to slip his hand under your pants to absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair at the top of your mound.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

For Michael, sex isn't just a physical act, it's the ultimate expression of intimacy and connection. He views it as something sacred, a deeply personal and meaningful experience. He’s always doting on you in your relationship so that doesn’t change in the bedroom, he actually becomes even more affectionate. From gentle whispers of endearment to tender kisses placed upon your skin, he leaves no doubt in your mind that you are his everything, the center of his universe, and he is utterly devoted to your pleasure and satisfaction.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you entered his life, Michael's hand was no stranger to his throbbing shaft, especially with the weight of carrying the entire music industry on his back. Masturbation served as a way to let off steam and alleviate the relentless stress. But once you became intimately involved, his solo sessions dwindled significantly. Your touch, your scent, your very essence eclipsed any pleasure he could derive from his own hand. So, he'd much rather wait to get his hands on you.

Even when you're not in the mood, he holds off. Some might say he edges this way but of course, he'd never admit to such lewd accusations.

However, when the demands of touring keep him separated from you for months on end, Michael's resolve is put to the ultimate test. Alone in his hotel room, he finds himself unable to resist the primal urge to seek release. With your panties clenched tightly in his fist, his hand moves with a frenzied urgency, his shaft pulsating with need as he conjures vivid memories of fucking you senseless, eagerly counting down the days until he can hold you in his arms once again.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lowkey a freak. All that repressed sexual desire from being in a highly religious household really did its thing, taught him how to conceal his deepest yearnings behind a façade of propriety and restraint. Considers himself more kinky than most. Even when he comes across someone who's also into kinky stuff they’re usually into the typical bdsm-like things whilst Michael's tastes veer decidedly into the realm of the unconventional. our man gets off on the weirder fetishes. (still love him though)

Aside from those when it comes to the more “normal” desires he’s into immortalizing your most intimate encounters with a click of his camera shutter. Polaroids and videos of the most raunchy moments that would put Kim K’s tape to shame. Of course your faces are still always out of the frame, after all, discretion is important when you're the most famous person in the world.

Has a raging size kink that borders on obsession. (not talking about body size) Each time he has to prep you with his fingers, the sensation of stretching you to accommodate his girthy cock makes his brain melt. Also unashamedly loves being messy and spitting in your mouth. I could go on forever listing them so let’s stop, we've got more to talk about.

Also may or may not have a foot fetish, but i didn't tell you that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Mainly prefers the privacy of your neverland ranch but he's not limited to the confines of the bedroom. There’s no surface in your home that hasn’t been christened by the both of you. from the kitchen counter to the inviting waters of the pool.

Considers himself a semi-exhibitionist, relishing in the thrill of the forbidden without the desire to actually get caught in the act. There's something about the risk of being discovered, of stifling your moans with his palm while keeping a vigilant eye out for prying eyes. It's the adrenaline rush of teetering on the edge of discovery that sets his pulse racing.

Outside of your haven he prefers either his dressing room or somewhere out in nature. Making love to you while you're laying on a soft blanket in the middle of a flowery field while the birds are chirping? Sign him the fuck up.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Michael's motivations are as straightforward as they come: you. The simple presence of your divine form is enough to send his desire into overdrive. Call it whipped if you must, but he sees it as a privilege to be enraptured by the allure of the sexiest woman in existence.

Strangely enough, it's not the overtly seductive gestures that get him going. No, it's the everyday moments, the mundane activities that hold the power to ignite the flames of passion within him. You can be lounging on the couch beside him, lost in conversation on the phone or simply lost in your own thoughts and the innocent sound of your sighs or the arch of your neck as you stretch will get him chubbing up instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Michael has firm boundaries when it comes to certain acts in the bedroom, rooted in the trauma he endured at the hands of his father. The idea of causing you any harm, whether physical or emotional, is utterly unthinkable to him. Squeezing your hips? Sure. a spank on your soft ass? Alright. but anything more aggressive or degrading is strictly off-limits. The thought of leaving a mark on your delicate skin or causing you any distress sends shivers down his spine.

Another thing that's off the table for Michael is pornography. He simply can't bring himself to watch other naked women when he's got his very own P.Y.T. by his side. Besides, with his penchant for taking Polaroids and videos, he's got his own personal collection that far surpasses anything he could find online. Why settle for generic smut when he has the real deal right in front of him?

At last, subbing is something he’ll never do. Nope, not happening. He's a pleasure/service dom through and through, and the idea of you putting in any work to satisfy him instead of the other way around? Yeah, that's a major turn-off for him. Katherine didnt raise no 50/50 “let's split the bill” goon.

When he's really exhausted but still wants to please you, he'll reluctantly let you take the reins. Will let you bounce on his fat cock as you use him for your own pleasure. It's the closest thing to submission you'll ever get from him, but even then, that doesn’t happen often and he's still calling the shots, making sure you're getting exactly what you need while he serves as your willing plaything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Michael's got a Ph.D. from the pussy eating academy, wait no, scratch that, he's the one who founded the university. He’s the founding father, the dean, and the star pupil all rolled into one. Therefore he's more of a giver. It's not just a preference; it's a calling. Sounds overused but he really could spend hours nestled between your thighs, worshiping at the altar of your pleasure.

And let's talk about his chronic clit-sucking habit. Once he gets going, there's no stopping him. He'll latch onto that little bundle of nerves like his life depends on it, not even bothering to detach his lips when he sees it swollen and sensitive from his ministrations. And when your thighs instinctively squeeze around his head, well, let's just say it's his version of heaven on earth. Deny him the chance to feast on you daily, and he'll legit start having wet dreams about it. No joke.

Now, when it comes to receiving oral, Michael's a bit more reserved. He prides himself on being a gentleman, and making you kneel on a cold wooden floor just doesn't sit right with him. He'll only let you go down on him on special occasions, and even then, he's careful not to push you too far. You won't be deep-throating him anytime soon—just the tip, thank you very much. He's all about ensuring your comfort, and he's not about to let you strain your jaw for his pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's somewhere in between. He's quite blessed downstairs so he knows he needs to tread carefully to avoid accidentally causing you any discomfort. “Technique is more important than pace” truther. That being said, there are moments when he's not afraid to let loose and take you hard and fast, especially if he's feeling particularly stressed or you've been a bit of a brat.

But if he's not in the mood for a wild romp, it'll take some serious convincing, a healthy dose of luck, and maybe a few well-timed puppy dog eyes to get him to crank up the intensity. And if you manage to persuade him to pound you into the mattress he'll step up his aftercare game to a whole new level.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

There's something undeniably thrilling about swiftly pulling aside clothes, not bothering with the formality of full undressing, and dropping to his knees to bury his head under your skirt for a quick taste of ecstasy. The urgency of it all, the risk of getting caught, it's enough to send shivers down his spine and get his blood pumping. He gets it, he really does.

But as much as he enjoys the occasional quickie, nothing compares to the ecstasy of taking his time with you. Michael is all about savoring every moment, prolonging foreplay until you're practically begging for release. He revels in edging you to the brink, pushing you to the very limits of pleasure until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. And when you finally can't take it anymore, when you're cumming so hard you can barely see straight, that's when he knows he's done his job right.

Seeing your legs trembling, your eyes rolling back in bliss, and your beautiful face contorted with pleasure is the ultimate reward for him. So while quickies may have their appeal, for Michael, nothing beats the pure, unadulterated ecstasy of taking his time and making you cum over and over again.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Michael is all about pleasing you so if you've got a fantasy you've been dying to try, you can bet he'll be game for it. Even if it's not exactly his cup of tea, he'll give it a shot at least once, just to see the look of satisfaction on your face. There are very few things he’d not try, especially with you. Your pleasure is his top priority, and he'll go to great lengths to ensure you feel comfortable and fulfilled in the bedroom. So don't be shy about sharing your wildest fantasies with him – he's always eager to turn your dreams into reality.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could be lying there, barely able to catch your breath after multiple rounds, and he'll be grinning like a Cheshire cat, asking if you can give him one more orgasm. And trust me, you never have to worry about taking too long to cum or him finishing before you do as this man can dance, sing, and entertain on stage for hours on end without breaking a sweat.

You’ve never had an experience when you didn’t cum or that he climaxed first. Absolutely not. He's a master at making sure you reach climax first, every single time. He's all about you and your pleasure baby. You'll never leave the bedroom unsatisfied when Michael's in charge.

He usually goes for three rounds and can last around thirty minutes before he finally lets himself climax. And even then, his refractory period is short – just a few minutes, maybe ten if he's had an especially intense orgasm. So rest assured, you'll be in for a wild ride every time you're between the sheets with him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does have a stash of toys that are mostly for your pleasure and he's not shy about putting them to good use. From vibrators to plugs to dildos (none bigger than his own length, of course) to lots of lube, he’s got everything you need.

He is not one of those men who get insecure and compare themselves to silicone toys. In fact, he sees them as valuable tools for enhancing your pleasure, not as competition. He knows that they can help him make you feel even better. They're besties not enemies.

He's especially into the idea of double penetration, but he's not about to invite someone else into the bedroom to make it happen. That's where the toys come in handy. He can fill both of your holes at the same time, giving you the kind of mind-blowing pleasure you crave.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

After music teasing you is his second most favorite thing to do. You hate how naturally it comes to him. No matter what the situation, he always manages to find a way to make your face feel hot, leaving you squirming and begging for more.

It's almost unfair how good he is at it. One minute you're just minding your own business, and the next, he's got you swatting at his arm and burying your face in his chest, trying to hide the embarrassment. But deep down, you secretly love every second of it – even if you'd never admit it out loud.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Unlike some guys, Michael isn't shy about letting the world know when you're making him feel good. He's a vocal one, and he sees no reason to hold back. I mean, why would he want to hide the fact that you're driving him wild with pleasure? Especially when you're at home, he couldn't care less if the maids or security overhear (they've all signed NDAs anyway), he's not holding anything back.

And let's talk about that mouth of his. It's downright filthy, I tell you. Once he gets going, there's no shutting him up. He's always whispering the nastiest, dirtiest things into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your gummy walls clench around him like a vice.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Remember the dildos I mentioned in the toys section? Well this little freak has made a custom made dildo for you that is an exact replica of his cock. Yeah, you read that right. I’m going to give you a second to take that in……

he was absolutely buzzing with excitement, literally had his dick in a mold, imagining your reaction when you laid eyes on it.

Before jetting off on tour, he carefully placed this anatomically accurate marvel in a discreet box on your bed, like a tantalizing treasure waiting to be discovered. And then, without so much as a backward glance, he vanished to conquer stages in far-off lands, leaving you to uncover his risqué gift in his absence.

When you finally laid eyes on that uncanny replica, your face surely turned as hot as a boiling teapot. From the lifelike color to the intricate veins, every detail is meticulously crafted to match the one you’re all too familiar with.

When Michael called you from across the globe, you could practically hear the mischievous smirk in his voice as he awaited your reaction, fully aware of the tidal wave of emotions that “little” creation would unleash.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I'm just expanding on this post I made a while ago.

He’s 7 inches when soft, 9 when hard. And before you start with the "unrealistic" talk, let me stop you right there, this blog is not the place for that. We're on Tumblr for crying out loud. Besides, rumor has it that Michael was packing something closer to a 12-inch monster, so let's just say 9 inches is well within the realm of possibility for our man.

But besides length you may say “length isnt everything its all about the girth” you are correct and to that i give you one hint–can of soda.(which is around 21 cm btw). He is absolutely obsessed with the fact that your hand can barely wrap around his impressive shaft.

Also he's uncut, with faint veins tracing their way all over, adding an extra layer of sensation as they glide against your slick walls. Has big soft balls to match the length. They are very sensitive so every time they slap against your bottom he's panting from the sheer overstimulation. Sucking on them during oral for longer than a few seconds will have you witnessing a rare sight of him losing his control.

Michael takes great care of himself physically so his cum tastes relatively good, never have you felt the need to spit it out. It's so thick and milky as well, all that creamy goodness looks mouthwatering, painting your skin or insides.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Good luck soldier cause he has a very high libido. And he has the audacity to blame it on you. He'll look you dead in the eye and say, "How can I not be insatiable when I wake up next to the most beautiful girl in the world?" Cheesy bastard.

As much as Michael yearns for you every damn day, he's not about to let his desires override your comfort. He's a gentleman through and through. If he notices that you're still feeling sore from the previous night's escapades, he'll restrain himself because at the end of the day, your comfort and well-being come above anything else, even his insatiable hunger for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

you're usually the first one to tap out. After all those gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear, it's a wonder you manage to stay awake at all. But Michael's not the type to tease you about it, he's too busy showering you with praise for how well you did for him. He'll pull you close to his chest and tell you to close those pretty eyes and rest. There's no better lullaby than the sound of his steady heartbeat as you drift off into dreamland. Makes sure you are snuggled up close to his chest before he lets himself drift off.

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

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bohemianblasphemy · 9 months ago

Note

guess by charli xcx x billy butcher??

guess

billy butcher x reader - enjoy ✨

butcher has always had this… aura. whenever he’d walk into a room, his rough exterior mixed with his cocky, cheeky behaviour never failed to make you swoon from across the way. the tension of the chase was delicious- the lingering glances toward each other and neverending banter was electric.

however tonight’s atmosphere felt different. the bar that you frequented at was bustling with people- the clinking of glasses and mixed conversation and laughter filled the room. you sat in a spot at the far end of the bar, your cocktail in hand. your eyes met with the familiar trench coat cladded man across the room, his signature smirk and a cock of his eyebrow being sent your way.

the speakers started to play “Guess” by Charli XCX; the lyrics spoke to you as if this moment was like a movie, the beat matched your racing heart as you watched him manoeuvre around the crowd of people towards you. “we’ll look who we have here…” his irresistible accent mixed with his gruff tone had you eating out of the palm of his hand. “ what are you doin’ hiding yourself down here? not hiding’ from little old me?” he teases, expecting your wit to come out to play. you crossed your legs playfully, feeling his eyes drink you in.

“ who? me.” you grinned. “ cmon billy… gotta make the challenge all the more exciting for you.” a soft blush ran across your face which made billy smirk.Butcher leans his hand on the wooden bar, leaning in close to your ear. “ a challenge is something i thrive on love, just gotta keep up with me…” he sat down beside you, exchanging many flirtatious remarks which brought you both all the more closer together- your knees touching and your faces so close that you could feel his breath on you. he leaned in even closer, your heart leaping in your chest as you could smell his rich cologne.

“what do ya say about havin’ a dance?” he asks you. “wouldn’t have guessed you as the dancing type Billy…” “well, tonight’s the night for suprises don’t ya think?” he says winks at you, making you melt. you nodded and held out your hand before he swept you to the dance floor. the music once again spoke your feelings for the evening- something sensual and somewhat carnal. butchers hand stays in your own, twirling you around and bringing your body closer to him each time.

his hands travel down to your lower back, brings your swaying hips close against his. “doll you are somethin’ to behold…” he whispers against your neck. “ i could get used to havin’ you around…” his thick fingers tucks a stray hair behind your ear and you bite your lip as a shiver went down your spine, caused by his touch. in perfect timing to the chorus of the song, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him face to face with you. “i could get used to you too…” you looked deep into his eyes, in a swift moment he leaned forward before placing a passionate kiss to your lips. the world seemed to blur around you both as your kiss deepened, you hands reached up to bunch his hair in your fists, earning a groan into your mouth. his hands reached further down you body, squeezing your ass tenderly.

you pulled away from him briefly, your body was trembling with aching hunger for him. Butchers eyes roved your form, a smirk played upon his lips. “do ya wanna get outta here doll?” he murmured in your ear. “ i bet ya i can guess all kinds of little secrets about you…” he places a kiss just below your ear, trailing down your neck, earning a whimper from you. “ oh really?” you sighed. “like what? you trying to guess what kind of underwear i’m wearing right now?” you remarked half jokingly. Butcher chuckles softly and leans down to whisper “ i was hoping that you could show me…”

#billy butcher #the boys #amazon the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher brainrot go brr #karl urban #the boys tv #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher smut

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yoongleboonglepie · 23 days ago

Text

Pechsträhne Chapter 12

BTS x Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlists-Spotify

Word Count Approx: 25k

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A/n: She's long, she's here, she's A LOT. Love you all, and I can't wait to hear how you feel.

The rest of the Pinterest boards will go up tonight as well! So for all my sleuthing readers-look forward to those!!

Edit: I forgot the recap-Okay now for real

Most lovingly, ~Delyn

_________________________________________

Recap

“Oh my god.” Y/n gasped, her mug slipping from her fingers, and her other hand coming up to save both the mug and her floors from an unfortunate demise.

“What? Did I break them?” Namjoon spun in his chair, hands frantically coming up to look over her shoulder.

Y/n didn’t need to answer. The answer was written clear as day on a torn napkin resting where the eaten strawberries used to be in swirling neat penmanship.

“They’re listening to me. I’m sorry.”

January 4th, 1901

Today–simply put–is one of the worst days of my life.

First and foremost, it is cold, bleak like what is to come. The hills that surround us are blanketed just the same, in colorless waves of white that do nothing to combat the nothingness I feel on this morning. I should be proud, mother says, to behold such an honor–such a historical moment in our history, but I feel nothing of the sort; I feel something more akin to hatred. There is no honor found in being stuck as a perpetual witness, though she seems to disagree with me vehemently on that belief.

Does that make me wretched? To feel hatred for my own blood? Mother says as much. He is my brother after all and I must keep reminding myself of that despicable fact each morning when I see his annoyingly broad face at breakfast, and I hold back the urge to crack the shell of my eggs upon his forehead. I hate witnessing them enjoy in merriment that should be mine: the wines and imported cheeses; the frivolous outfits and unappealing hats (certainly they must see that adding height to the top of one's head does not make up for a lack of substance beneath it); the music and the dancing women parading the halls and theater; oh how it should all be mine!

I really should not be saying things of this kind about my brother, for some good has come from him–and by that I mean the two lovely little girls that bounce upon my knee each morning, devouring the alphabet letters I teach them in the study with as much passion as one would enjoy ice creams from town or fresh baked cakes from the kitchen staff. I look to their shining faces and I see something worth haunting these halls for, which spurs my mother to lament on when I plan on having a few of my own–though I have little interest in that process. I would rather run naked through the lobby on a bustling Saturday evening and face the consequences of such actions than to become swollen and burdened with birth and babies and men.

My mother still insists, though she is fully aware of my distaste for it, and I can not possibly fathom for why she chooses to throw herself so forcefully at my choices, when they had never been interested in my potential in other regards–if they love showering my darling brother so much, shower him with the same iron hot poker you incessantly prod me with each month–for he is already building a crib for his third baby.

Poor Phil, six years barely seems like enough time to recover from what I can only assume is the worst part of womanhood–If it were me I would have taken a trip out of the country and found myself lost at sea when the proposition for another biting mouth was offered up to me–though I am aware that her choice in the matter is mute; neither of their two existing children are boys. My younger brother, on the contrary, has already bestowed upon our nerves a babbling boy that he loves to throw into all of our arms like it’s a talisman from god and not just another drooling baby; all the while shouting praises to his similarly pregnant wife, (only a year in between births–goodness me I am starting to sweat at the thought).

Ernst has yet to be sworn in only hours from now, and the race between brothers has already begun.

Must I have a child to enter the race? A son, to be more precise? If I go to the theater and find myself a pretty girl to wear on my arm like a bracelet glittering as a show to my affluence in both money and prowess and have her bear a child in my name–will I be of more importance? What a silly thought.

Unfortunately I must go, I am being called to dress for the celebration. I contemplate whether a funeral would be a more apt name…

Until tomorrow then, the first day of the end.

Adelaide

Bear laughed, the breathy chuckle puffing out of his mouth swallowed up by the crackle of flame from the blazing hearth and the distant trill of horns and pulse of drums. His hand reached over the end table, distractedly lifting his glass of spirits to his mouth and letting the liquid pool about his lips, immediately taken in by the next entry.

The wooden doors to the study burst open in a clamorous hurry, his older brother Duane, Youngho Jung, and Seonggi Kim barreling in through the gaps they left. The bang unsettled the dust from the tall bookshelves and Bear’s nerves, jolting the glass from his lips and barely making it back to the table next to him in time for Duane’s broad-shouldered arms to grab his own in a rough shake.

“Spending the last day of 1953 locked up in the study? How unlike you.” Duane was clearly intoxicated, his button down coming loose from the waistband of his high waisted tweed trousers and his meticulously slicked back hair had a few sprigs loose. He bent his towering height down to Bear’s ear, a mischievous smile curling his features into something devilish. “There are dolls in all directions that I think might be something worth looking at–a wife in your own near future perhaps?” A chorus of drunken laughter waved through their small group at such a preposterous proposition.

“You should know better than to say the ‘W’ word around him, Squirrel–that word doesn’t exist in his vocabulary.” Youngho pried Duane’s sweaty hands from Bear’s shoulders, ignoring Duane’s obvious disgust for his childhood nickname. Youngho clapped one of his own in their place and offered him a smile significantly less saturated with alcohol than Duane’s. “I’m sure he will join in on the party when he’s ready.”

Bear’s grateful smile was drowned out by Seonggi’s own chaffing comments “I never thought we’d have to find him in the effort to get him to join us, I figured we’d be finding ourselves fishing him out of the lake by morning in nothing but his smalls.” Seonggi’s lanky arms were enveloped with a tan plaid long coat, a green sweater barely peeking out from where he still had it buttoned from their trek from the hotel ballroom to the estate, the sleeve riding up as he used one to swipe Bear’s glass off the end table and finish it of in one gulp.

“Well, what else would I be friends with you all for if not to do just that?” Bear shot back recovering from their less than coordinated entrance in stride, jumping to his feet and straightening out his own dress shirt. “I was catching up on some reading–saving up my energy for the rest of the evening, the night is young!”

“Now you are finally making some sense.” Duane guided him by his shoulders towards the entrance of the study, pushing him out of the warm embrace of the fire towards the chilled entrance way that brought the hairs of his arms up to stand. “To the party! I will not have my brother being a square during my last few nights as an apprentice–Come tomorrow everything changes.”

“For the better, I hope.” Youngho snickers, loosening the brown tie around his neck.

“You say that as though you doubt me!” Duane pushed open the front wooden door of the estate, leading their group down the steps to the gravel path.

Seonggi rolled his eyes, pressing down the back of Duane’s collar where it had popped up in the back. “Did you not hear my earlier comment about fishing your brother out of a lake?”

“That was about Bear, not me.” Duane shrugged, his breath plumed into the cold night air, mixing with the wispy snow flurries.

“The thing about that is that you two are one in the same–I’d be dragging you by the belt up the bank after he was pulled in from the water.” Seonggi retorted, his almond shaped eyes glaring into the side of his friend's face.

“And what a great friend you are for that.” Duane tipped his head, and belted out a few laughs, leading the rest of the men to follow.

“Boys!”

The four heads swiveled in the direction of the front door behind them, ceasing all sounds of merriment. The sound of Adelaide’s crackly voice still manages to fill them each with fear despite them being grown, most with children of their own. They need not ask what she wanted, she would tell them accordingly.

“Duane, is it not your wife I passed upstairs, wrestling with your son to get his night clothes on while lugging about your baby on her arm?” Her hair was gray, and her face aged with skin as thin as paper. A miracle it was that she was still walking about the halls at all, let alone speaking to them with such clarity.

“Yes ma’am, I suppose it was.” Duane gulped nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt, unintentionally popping out the back that Seonggi had just fixed.

“And Jungho, was it not your son I saw streaking through the halls and making a mess of the carpets with his soap sodden feet?” She turned her icy eyes onto her next target.

“Yes Ma’am.” Youngho paled under her scornful glare.

“Then shall I reprimand the fully grown men in front of me to fulfil their fatherly duties so their wives may enjoy just a crumb of a beautiful night, or will you relieve her and the new pianist's wife of the job that is only yours on your own accord?” Adelaide phrased her words as a question, but the men knew it as anything but. They moved sluggishly to comply, and it gave Bear enough time to think up a new response.

“I can handle it–let me attend to my uncle duties after being away for so long this past year.” Bear skipped back up the steps, grateful for an excuse to avoid the lavish party–something he’d never thought he’d find himself thinking.

“But you haven’t even had the chance to join in the fun yet! Let us handle our little ankle biters and you go get a few more drinks in your system while you wait.” Duane argued, landing on the step next to him with ease, but Bear held up a hand to silence his protests, looking up at his brother with mirth.

“I insist. I haven’t had much to drink yet so I’m the more coordinated one of the bunch here anyways–you guys go ahead, I’ll catch up!” Bear gave Duane a gentle shove down the stairs, and a reassuring thumbs up. “Enjoy your last New Year’s as a son, and not the owner, yeah?”

Duane grinned, and clapped Bear on his shoulder roughly before skipping down to rejoin the gaggle of men.

“What about you Seonggi? Why didn’t you get your ass handed to you?” Bear could hear Duane’s accusatory jest from the door as he watched them leave, their voices diminishing in volume.

“I already helped put him to bed before we left. It helps to plan ahead sometimes, you know.” The man in question scoffed, offended he would even ask such a question.

“Duane? Plan ahead? It’s the New Year–not the second coming of Christ.” Youngho chortled back at them, their shared laughter an echo of what their boyhood had once been as the three ambled back down the cobblestone path.

“Du solltest seine Verantwortung nicht übernehmen, Bär.” Adelaide gave Bear a reproachful once over, though she still held open the door for him to follow after her.

He chuckled, and shut the door behind him to keep out to cold winter air. “Ich bin sein Bruder. Was ihn beunruhigt, ist auch meine Sorge.”

Adelaide led him up the stairs, taking her time with each step, her hand gripping the railing tightly with bony fingers. “Und es hat nichts mit Patti zu tun?”

Bear froze a few steps behind her hunched form, his mouth suddenly dry and he found himself wishing he still had a drink in his hands to help ease his tension–but found enough wherewithal within himself to quickly deny the hidden accusations of such a question. “Of course not.”

Adelaide hummed, clearly not convinced by his rebuttal. “Then what is the real excuse? It is not like you to be kept in on a night such as this.”

Bear thought to himself for a moment, wondering if confiding in Adelaide would be of any use to his current predicament, or if it would make him feel even more so unsettled. He thought against lying, for she had a keen eye to pinpoint trickery from a mile away, much to his and his brother’s chagrin.

“I’m not interested in fireworks anymore. I find them…” Bear searched for the proper words, watching carefully as Adelaide made the final step up to the landing. “I find them unsettling now.”

If Adelaide believed his answer was enough, she did not share; just led him along a soapy path down the right side of the hall, the carpet still wet and squishing beneath his shoes from where much smaller feet had run along it previously.

“Jeonghun is giving the newcomer a hard time–but I think she has it handled for the most part. It’s Johan and Dorothea that are causing most of the trouble.” Adelaide pushed open the second door down from the playroom, not bothering to knock, the only barrier between them and an infant’s cries removed so it could pierce their ears as intended.

Patti looked drained, the kind of tired that no amount of her cigarettes would mend. The bags under her eyes more prominent than ever, mostly caused by the barely four month old baby draped over her shoulder that she bounced from side to side to try and sooth their high pitched cries; while her other arm was tangled in a blue patchwork quilt she was attempting to straighten out to her son’s liking. Though each time she lowered it down to the mattress he protested by jumping to his feet, and running in swift circles around his mother’s legs in a one sided game of chase.

Still, in her exhaustion Bear couldn’t help but find her more beautiful than all of the stars in the sky combined.

“I brought you some help.” Adelaide’s firm tone cut through the noise of the children, bringing Patti’s deep brown eyes up to regard Bear with nothing short of relief.

“And where’s Duane? Will he be joining us?” Patti inquired breathlessly, her eyes squeezing shut in a moment of covert irritation, for her son had just started another round about her legs for what must’ve been–according to her reaction–the hundredth time that evening.

“No. Your husband returned to the hotel to revel in the festivities. Thankfully Bear offered up his help in his stead.” Adelaide turned to exit the room, stopping within the open door to fix them both with an unreadable expression before making her exit. “I will be in my room at the end of the hall if you need me. I am far too old to be up this late anymore–party be damned.”

A beat of awkward tension clouded the room, both of them unsure of what to say first.

“If you wouldn’t mind–” Patti started, cut off by Bear’s words spoken over her own.

“I’ll handle that rascal. You sit with Dottie.” Bear didn’t wait for instruction, relieving her now trembling arm from the weight of the quilt so she could escape from Johan’s room over to Dorothea’s nursery, and turned his attention to Johan’s giggling face.

“Now you–” He lunged forward, grabbing the boy in his arms and flinging him into the air over his shoulders with an exaggerated groan of protest. “You are getting too big to play like this–take it easy on your poor mother.” Bear threw him down onto the mattress, letting him bounce a few times on the surface while more giggles erupted from the child’s mouth, already preparing to squirm away from Bear to start his next race.

“I don’t think so.” Bear cut him off, blocking his path and pushing him back onto the bed.

The two of them continued their little game of chase, until Bear was able to settle him down with a few bedtime stories from his own adventures on the promise that they were of both himself and Duane to appease his young and curious mind. Johan’s eyes were cemented closed, Bear only just having gotten a few sentences into his second tale when he had noticed his evened out breathing and still feet.

Bear leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to the sleeping boy’s forehead and whispered a soft “Sleep well Johan, 88, Bear over and out.” He rose to his less than impressive height, soaking in the quiet tranquility of the room as opposed to the roaring party outside the estate's doors, giving himself one moment to believe that this could be his life and his son sleeping peacefully in front of him.

“What’s that?”

Patti whispered to him over the threshold startling him from his thoughts. Dorothea had been soothed and coddled over the opposite shoulder, Patti’s left hand rubbing tender circles on her back, the glinting ring on her finger a reminder to Bear that none of this belonged to him.

“What?” Bear asked, stepping out of the room to join her out in the hall, but Patti didn’t linger, leading them back to Dorothea’s nursery–the nursery Bear had helped her paint a shade of bubblegum pink when his brother had failed to get around to it.

“What you said to him in there, at the end of your story.” Patti clarified, settling herself down onto the brand new wooden rocking chair that Duane had delivered as one of his gifts to Patti for the nursery (even if she had whispered to Bear in guilt ridden shame that she had wanted one with more cushion, like she had seen in one of the furniture magazines in the study).

“88?” He lowered himself onto the vibrantly pink nursery ottoman, his eyes catching one of the printed and plastered strangely proportioned lambs leaping around the walls.

Patti hummed in affirmation, keeping her voice low as she rocked the infant, her heels pressing into the equally bright rug beneath her feet.

“It’s something my father and I said to each other when I was younger. It’s shorthand for ‘love and kisses’ when using amateur radio transmission.” Bear took in a hesitant breath, and offered more detail that she hadn’t asked for–something he excelled at in conversation. “Though I do my best to only use it with people that I’m familiar with. Unfortunately, followers of the madman now use it to spread hate. Funny isn’t it–something meant to spread affection being used as a weapon to hurt.” Bear trailed off, his eyes unable to remove themselves from Dorothea’s sleeping wrinkle of a face.

“That’s how it always goes, doesn’t it?” Patti sighed, her hand stilling on Dorothea’s tiny back. “Hopefully they grow up in a different world, where it can just mean love and kisses again.”

“Unfortunately,” Bear began softly, “We can’t erase that side of it–for what is done can not be undone. All we can do is hope that the people who use it for good can overpower those that use it for bad.” He took one finger and tenderly traced it over Dorothea’s small button nose, pausing to watch small puffs of breath leave lungs much too small for Bear to fathom.

Patti watched the exchange, her eyes syrupy and tired, a thankful smile tilted her cheeks up while her lids blinked slowly. “Thank you for your help tonight. You never have to, yet you always do.”

“Because I want to.” Bear flickered his eyes from the baby up to Patti’s rich tawny eyes even though he knew he shouldn’t look at them the way he was. “It’s what family does for each other.”

“Family?” Patti muttered the question with each syllable as blurred as the line she crossed by sliding the hand off of Dorothea to brush against Bear’s. “I wish Duane thought we were as important as you seem to.”

Bear’s face colored with passion, quickly coming to her aid with words of intended comfort. “Patti don’t say such nonsense–you guys are Duane’s entire world. He would do anything for you.” Bear tried to give his words the power they needed to be convincing, but even he could not deny the scenes he had seen play out before his eyes; Duane consistently leaving Patti to her own devices in the name of focusing on his apprenticeship and studies, only for Bear to sweep along behind each poorly thought step to clean up after him. A common theme it seemed, Bear cleaning up after his brother’s messes and missteps only for Duane to take the credit. He would never tell anyone though–he loved his brother too much to face the reality.

Bear wore the label of mischief maker like a badge of honor, or a shield that is so broad it protects his brother without even trying. Each accusation or pointed finger tends to lead to Bear as if pulled by an invisible magnet–what an easy target one is when they are self assured and loud; unafraid to take up space.

“I think we both know who has actually done the most for our little family.” Patti murmured, her delicate finger caressing the side of his palm, bringing him out of the thoughts of his brother and back to her overwhelming presence.

Her phrase should not have affected him the way it did, spurring his heart forward into a gallop under her intense gaze, leaden with many words they had only shared in private secrecy that he had sworn he would never speak of again. He cleared his throat, and pulled his hand away from where it had fallen to rest with them. He can’t let her touch him that way.

“If you no longer need my help, I should be going.” Bear stood, straightening his brown trousers and checking his watch. “Fireworks will begin soon–if Johan gives you trouble I’ll just be downstairs.”

“Goodnight, Bear. 88.” Patti called after him, rushing through a tacked on “Not the fascist way of course!”

He paused, looked at where she sat so ethereal in the warm lamplight on a cold night, her eyes begging him to stay even though they both knew he shouldn’t. “Goodnight Patti, 88. Also not in the fascist way.” Bear nodded in her direction and slipped from the nursery with every muscle in his body screaming at him to turn around and sit back down next to her until the sun rose, or Duane stumbled back in from his night out celebrating. Yet he refrained.

Bear took slow steps down the stairs and back towards the study, the same hair-raising sensation prickling his skin as he passed through the foyer and into the kitchen in search of another drink to wash away his horrid thoughts. He decided on a glass of champagne, humoring even just a small amount of celebration for himself to take with him back to the study.

He was too distracted in his journey to see the hulking, hunched, shadow standing at the end of the hall just out of view; and far too disinterested in caring when the shadows invisible dragging steps following him into the foyer, covered by the loud booming sound of flame and gunpowder in the sky outside that signaled the arrival of the New Year. Bear settled into the couch of the study once more, oblivious to the watchful stalking eyes of the creature that laid waiting in a plane invisible to the naked eye. He was too focused on keeping his own cool through the torrential downpour of flame from outside.

Waiting.

Be that as it may, Bear was never good at being oblivious; especially not for long.

Bear shuddered, spitting out the last of his champagne onto the red rug beneath his feet. Through the stained glass panes of the study doors edges, he could’ve sworn he had seen something–inhumane in nature and grotesque by design–lit up by the red and golden flourishes from outside and reflecting back at him like some imprint of death pressed against the glass.

Bear fell to the floor, each blast rang louder than the last in his ears, reminiscent of too many memories he wished not to think of anymore. All control broken by the unsuspecting image. His chest heaved, and he risked a glance back to the glass, only to find the face gone–vanished with the the raining light of a dissipated firework.

Nothing but a memory, Bear poured himself a glass of water and brought the rim shakily to his lips, forcing each sip down his throat. Nothing but something to forget.

Bear could not remember such a face from all of his duties served–no friend or foe had looked as such. He did not linger on thoughts of what could be, or couldn’t be explained; those kinds of thoughts serve one who has lost many a friend no good.

Bear remained on his knees on the study floor against the center table, pouring glass after glass of water until the pitcher was empty, but nothing seemed to quell the sweat building on his brow or the pounding of his heart nor the dryness of his mouth.

Not when that creature's face haunted the edges of his vision, and the thunderous roar of fireworks above ripped into his subconscious and forced him back into memories he wished not to see.

“Bär.” Adelaide’s voice cut through the white noise of fireworks and his own heartbeat. She stood wrapped in a dressing gown, her hair tucked away and out of sight for the night.

Bear couldn’t catch his breath, not even for a moment. Adelaide held a small bell in her hand, and frantically waved the orb around the study door like she was trying to swat at an invisible fly. The scene itself managed to grip its hold onto him: an old frail woman flailing her limbs about with a look so serious he couldn’t help but let out a few wheezing chuckles at the blasphemy of it.

Once she seemed satisfied with whatever it was she had set her mind to, she slid the pocket doors of the study closed, locking it for good measure. Adelaide spun on her heels and took long purposeful strides over to Bear, one of her tremoring hands reaching out to pinch his chin into place, holding him still and repeating the same swinging of the bell around his head and face as if trying to banish his anxieties with the soundwaves. For what it was worth–whether it be the absurdity of it or the power behind her waving–he began to regain control of himself, both mind and body.

Adelaide dropped his chin and took to running about the corners of the room, ringing its gentle tinkling sound in each one before moving onto the next. Her age left her at odds with the motions, her own breath growing labored as she returned with a slow tread to the couch Bear had settled himself on during her ministrations. She sunk down next to him, and fixed him with an admonitory stare that pierced straight through him.

“You must be careful, do not let yourself become vulnerable to that which walks these halls.”

Bear couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head out in a way that made a few curls of his own fall from their gel coated cage. “Adelaide, the spooks of the house people whisper of are not what I’m worried about.”

“You should be.” Adelaide shook her head, and grabbed his hand tightly in her own. “Keep it, I have plenty. They feed off of your troubles.” She dropped the bell into his palm and curled his fingers around the metal that was now warm from her touch.

Bear didn’t have it in him to argue with her old and wispy mind, complying enough just to tuck it away into his pocket for safe keeping. “Alright.”

Her dark eyes flickered to the journal he had discarded on the center table, her facade of stone falling just enough for him to catch a real glimpse of her–eyes wide and glowing from the firelight, a youthful air about her face as she ran her fingers across the leather cover wistfully. As quickly as he had seen it, it was gone.

“Where did you find this?” Adelaide snipped, though her tone was nothing but an empty threat; he had angered her enough growing up to know when she was truly a threat.

“Squirrel and I had gone digging through some of the old boxes and archives in the cellar and historical office. He had procrastinated on his preparatory reading for his ceremony tomorrow and needed to skim a bit.” Bear knew he was throwing his brother to the wolves with such a comment, but after having seen how much he had left to Patti that night–he couldn’t help but let something that wasn’t a compliment slip from his lips.

“How interesting.” She examined him with passive curiosity. “All of the other reading materials at your disposal–and this is what you’d decided was worthy of your time?”

Bear leaned forward, snatching the journal off the table and flipping to where he had left off. He read an excerpt aloud, doing his best to do so with animated expression. “He is my brother after all and I must keep reminding myself of that despicable fact each morning when I see his annoyingly broad face at breakfast, and I hold back the urge to crack the shell of my eggs upon his forehead.” He snapped it closed, sandwiching one of his fingers between the pages to keep the spot. “I think that is some very profound writing if I do say so myself.”

Adelaide did the unexpected–a short bark of withering laughter sprouting from her chest. “Brother’s are a fickle thing aren’t they?”

“Very.” Bear agreed, a smirk finding its way to his lips.

The firework display was coming to an end, though with Adelaide’s company he had barely registered the finale–something he would have to thank her for. The cheering and music from the distant courtyard and hotel ballroom could still be heard, for the party had no intentions of stopping at midnight.

“It should be you up there tomorrow, If I do say so myself.”

If hearing her laugh had surprised Bear, her sudden shift into modest honesty had knocked him into another realm entirely; the closest thing to a compliment she had given him in ages. He adamantly shook his head, and returned the journal to the center table.

“My brother is the only real choice. I am off on other lands or on the other side of the country, sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong far too often.” He pressed the curl back into place. “He worked hard for this. We always knew it would be him.”

“And how much of his work was done by your hands?” Adelaide prodded, giving him a knowing look.

Bear’s heavy sigh was enough of an answer, and Adelaide took to looking into the flames.

“You deserve it–I think you would’ve been the obvious choice if it were me.” She finished, hoisting herself to stand and start a wobbly path to the study doors. “Remember, use the bell if they return.”

Bear took the bell from his pocket, and turned it this way and that in the low light, inspecting what seemed like just an ordinary bell for something extraordinary that she insisted it had. He shook it once, the twinkling sound catching Adelaide's attention enough for her steps to hold pause.

“I think you deserved it. You were the obvious choice to me.” Bear commented, boring his eyes into the back of her head where she stood frozen in the doorway. It was her turn to be caught off guard, something Adelaide almost never was.

She didn’t react otherwise, pulling herself together and sliding one of the doors open for her exit. She hesitated, her hand holding onto the door frame to support her old rickety bones. She spared him one quick glance, her eyes glassy and wet.

“I see you’ll find yourself making good use of that bell. Goodnight, Bärchen.”

_________________________________________

Y/n sat on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, holding the napkin held out for everyone to see. Jimin’s scrawl was easily legible–impeccably neat even under the given circumstances of the less than ideal materials he had on hand. It was quiet. Each of them in a state of confusion or disbelief–or both. But as always, Yoongi spoke his mind first in the way he knew best: Eloquent and efficient.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi gaped at the torn corner with disdain, his eyes squinting to get a better look. “‘They’re listening’? Why hasn’t he reached out about this before?”

“Maybe he can’t. With the way he’s been talking to me lately, you’d think he’s under constant surveillance.” Y/n fiddled with the patterned paper between her fingers for a few moments before dropping the note into Yoongi’s hand to inspect it further. “Even at a park a few miles away he acted like he still had more to say but couldn’t.”

“The shadow figure?” Jungkook offered, his dark eyes looking at the note from over Yoongi’s shoulder.

“That’s our best guess.” Y/n shrugged, unable to look him in the eye after her discussion with Namjoon. That and she was exhausted beyond belief–she could blame the conversation with Namjoon and her previous experience with Jimin for making her head throb and her eyes heavy with fatigue. Her mind couldn’t pinpoint if she was still frustrated with Jimin, or if her irritation was trying to throw itself around at the first thing it could sink its teeth into in a blind search of whoever was causing him to act this way, for she was getting so easily riled up with each sound or thought that wormed its way through her skull. She took two fingers and rubbed at her temples to ebb away at the aggravating pulse behind her eyes.

Namjoon stood from Yoongi’s desk chair and rested one of his large hands over one of her own, stopping her from boring holes through the side of her head with much too forceful presses of her fingers. “You shouldn’t be getting this upset right now–you’re still healing from your fall.”

“I can’t exactly not feel worried when one of my best friends just left me a cryptic note about being listened to–by some ghost or my mother who knows.” Y/n groaned, letting her hands fall from her face under Namjoon’s guidance. “I don’t know what to do with this right now.”

“We can do one of two things.” Yoongi started, looking up from the paper napkin and wetting his lips. “We can either pivot our goals for this weekend into figuring out what’s going on with him, or we can continue with our original plans and then we can try and get him to crack.”

“Let’s not make any plans tonight. Like I said, she should be resting.” Namjoon enunciated the last word with a pointed look at Yoongi.

Y/n wanted to argue with him, and tell him that he was wrong–that she could handle the discussion just fine. But in all honesty she didn’t have it in her to push back against his stubborn commands, she did truly need rest if she wanted to be of use for the upcoming weekend in any capacity. All she had left in her was a meak nod, and let him guide her out of Yoongi’s room and back to her own, the box of strawberries still strewn about her desk where they had left them to scurry over to Yoongi’s room to share in her discovery.

“I’ll go over your wards and then leave you be. Don’t stay up too late tonight.” Namjoon directed her to sit on the edge of her bed while he gave all of her windows and doors a once over, even going as far as to check the corners of her bedroom and bathroom to make sure nothing had been bumped or pushed aside.

Y/n sat, staring unfocused at her knees. The fire that had been ignited before of irritation and confusion had burned through all of the energy she had left, leaving her a drained shell on the edge of her bed. This was a cycle she continued to struggle with, getting worked up to the point where she felt she couldn’t contain herself before it suddenly fizzled out and left her empty and void.

She wanted to call Jimin and beg him to tell her everything–to demand further answers from him in the excuse of lending him a helping hand. They had Namjoon and his knowledge of plant witchery, Yoongi’s extensive knowledge of the occult, and Jungkook the Psychopomp on their side: Whatever Jimin was dealing with they’d be able to handle–at least better than he could on his own.

Though in response to these thoughts of rushed rash decisions, came the echo of something he had said to her earlier that day; a pretty voice sounding out a sentence laced with a warning beneath the sweet tone.

“You know–there’s things a lot of us hide from each other. Maybe for good reason, but maybe out of fear. Perhaps some people aren’t able to say them outright in fear of what may happen to others as a consequence of speaking up.” Jimin’s plush lips moved to release the words in swift tandem. “Sometimes we all need a reminder that there are people that are here that will listen.”

“It looks good. I might have Yoongi give you some incense to burn in here though, just to refresh the space. You can never be too safe.” Namjoon stopped in front of where she sat, peering down his nose at her with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Y/n nodded, pushing Jimin from her mind and shifting to stand. “Thanks Joon. For everything today, not just for checking the wards.” she leaned forwards and let her forehead fall onto his shoulder, the warmth feeling nice against the ache behind it.

Their hug was brief, as was their goodbyes. The disappointment of being alone didn’t fester for too long–it didn’t have the time to. Her dress had barely hit the floor by the time she crawled herself into bed fully intending to stew on their discussion like she had promised, only to last merely five minutes into her thoughts before she was drifting off into a restless slumber.

Her dreams were riddled with images of the demonic creature she had encountered in the kitchen the weekend before, still dripping with tea and ectoplasm. His mouth open and waiting for her to fall right into it with molten hungry eyes trained on where she lay paralyzed below him, unable to stop her inevitable demise. No matter how many times she tried to reign in her dreams and steer them somewhere else, she couldn’t. All roads led back to him.

The images didn’t leave, even when her eyes opened to find her own bedroom dark and empty. Faint outlines of his figure were visible from all angles, burned into her retinas to torture herself with whenever it was much too dark for her brain to fully recognize that it wasn’t real. A constant state of wondering whether or not what she was seeing was reality or just the haunting etches of his memory.

If it was dark, the risk of traveling over to one of her friends' rooms or vise versa was high–it was still Thursday after all–so her father would be expected to sing his sickening lullabies tonight for the last time before the weekend. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to keep feeding her twisted mind with mirages of the demon, and fumbled for wherever her phone had landed on her bed.

The shuffling of light feet outside her door had her muscles locking in place. She could hear the soft steps (much too soft to be her fathers) hesitating outside along the carpet running over the wooden floors of the halls. Rustling overtook the feet, and she heard three objects drop to the floor outside her door, each one barely audible and signifying how lightweight whatever the gift was must be. Once whoever it was seemed satisfied with what they had done, Y/n followed the sound of their footsteps a few feet down the hall but no further. They were too quiet to hear past then.

Y/n cautiously touched her feet down to the chilled floor, her heart pounding against her ears as she reached from the flashlight on her end table and clicked it on. Her phone read that it was minutes to midnight, so still much too early for her father to be the culprit. Y/n took the risk, shining the light out from the gap of the door prior to unlocking it and giving it a gentle shove. Something in front of the door stopped it from opening entirely, the sound of leaves crunching making her pull the door closed ever so slightly.

She poked her head around the edge, finding three more perfectly cut and trimmed peonies laid gently in front of her door. She swiped them up without hesitation, and quickly shut her door–even if she still had some time in regards to her father, she couldn’t say the same about every spirit.

It was as if the flowers themselves were enchanted with more so than just their stunning looks and perfect blooms: for as she rubbed a few velvety petals beneath her finger tips, an overwhelming sense of calm seeped into her mind and body, uncoiling all of her tension and leaving her a tranquil cloud that floated back to her beds previously stifling embrace that now felt like anything but. The sweet floral scent stuck to her fingertips that were tucked near her face, lulling her back into an easy sleep no longer invaded by creatures from the basement or looming dark figures: but of the first half of her date with Jimin. Or was it Jimin she saw? Her mind slurred images together in slow, languid waves, mixing up images and trading them out for others however it saw fit.

Y/n realized she had been wrong entirely about the scene–it was not her date with Jimin. She wasn’t even at the park anymore. She must’ve just been misunderstanding what she had seen–because now she was walking along one of the property trails, hand in hand with Jungkook. His eyes reflecting the glint of the sun and his hand warm and comforting within her own.

She would have to be sure to ask him to go for a walk with her soon, Y/n thought, her breath leaving her mouth in puffs, barely conscious of what she was thinking any longer. She really liked how it felt to hold his hand.

_________________________________________

Y/n slept much longer than she had intended to that night, the sun blazing through her curtains at an angle letting her know as such without even having to check the time. She moved sluggishly about her room, in no similar rush as to yesterday to get dressed–just settling for comfortable clothes, dangling the new stems from the string above her bed, and falling back into her comforter.

Their group chat had blown up her phone, heightening her anxiety through the roof before she managed to click on the first private message from Namjoon.

[Joon 🌱]: Don’t freak out…nothing that bad has happened. You just need to check your work email.

Y/n did as she was told, thankful for Namjoon’s stable mind. No matter his reassuring words, she still found herself rushing to tap the icon to check on the mostly barren inbox–except for one from her parents with the subject line enough to send her through the roof.

Send him well wishes on his journey!

It is our greatest honor to escort our very own Jimin Park to Baltimore Maryland for his graduation where he will be awarded his Masters of Museum Studies. We will be sure to send photos and a live stream link for anyone that would like to attend and share in the festivities virtually.

Expect our return on Monday, and be sure to give him your congratulations!

Sincerely, Anselm and Mariah Wörner

Attached to the short email was a picture of Jimin, Jin’s parents-Hana and Yeongjin Kim, and both of her parents posed in front of the hotel, looking as though it had been taken early this morning. Two sleek black cars were being stuffed with luggage on the edge of the screen, but that wasn’t what was holding Y/n's attention the most.

Her father’s arm was thrown over Jimin’s shoulder, a bright smile taking over his features that was compensating for the lack of light in his eyes–soulless and empty. His hand was clamped onto Jimin’s opposite arm, digging into the fabric of his shirt and holding it clenched within his fist. An almost imperceivable display power, a barely noticeable warning.

Jimin was going to be alone with her parents for an entire weekend (well, alone with Jin’s parents and her parents), and that filled her with trepidation. There would be no way to text or call him about his message while he was with them–he would be almost completely out of reach.

There was no way this wasn’t deliberate. No–not the day after he had left her an ominous note–not when her mother had said nothing about indicating them joining them, nor had Jimin. Which could only mean one thing: Whatever Jimin knew, or whatever he was involved in and trying to tell her must threaten whatever her mother had been up to.

Y/n spiraled, mentally and physically for the rest of the morning in a pacing circle until Namjoon stole her away from her mental cages in a brisk walk to meet Jungkook in the dining room for lunch. Jungkook wasn’t the only one present–Jin and Hoseok were draped over opposite chairs, busying themselves with their small lunch menus with an air that held a suspicious amount of nonchalance.

Jin’s attire stole her wandering eyes and fixating mind, the absence of his cap, gloves or hotel coat more apparent to her than ever. It’s Friday. He should be working, Y/n noted to herself, then swept her eyes to Hoseok. The same tired taciturn nature oozed from his frame as when he had insisted he was sick–only this time he was trying harder to conceal it from her by the way he plastered a bright smile on his face and waved with too much enthusiasm at her entrance. And if that wasn’t odd enough, he appeared to sag with relief when she ended up choosing a seat further away from him; something that under normal circumstances would have him pouting at her for the first half of their meal.

“How are you feeling today, Y/n?” Jin’s silver tone voice was saturated with gentleness, laying his menu down to look at her with undivided attention.

“Fine…how about you?” Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off Hoseok, and how plastic and fake he looked sitting at the head of the table. His grin akin to a barbie doll in the way his eyes shone little interest in reflecting the same sentiment of joy.

“Great. I was actually going to come up and see if you would want to play a game or two. I took today off since my parents were in town so I could see them off.” Jin answered, oblivious to how Hoseok didn’t even seem real at the moment.

“Yeah that’s…That’s fine.” Y/n finally turned to fully address Hoseok, surveying him carefully for any kind of response. “And you?”

“Peachy!” Hoseok chirped, putting more force into his upbeat mask. “Nothin’ too crazy has been happening on my end. Just driving–the usual.”

Y/n pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, her voice coming out more accusatory than she intended. “I thought you were working extra shifts at the convenience center this week?”

Hoseok’s head tilted sharply to the side, his smile faltering. “Oh yeah–right.” He nodded, his meticulously curated smile returning. “That’s right. Sorry, thought that was implied.”

Y/n briefly met Namjoon’s eyes from across the table over the edge of his menu, and they shared a dubious look as she fumbled through her response. “It’s fine…just checking in.”

She reached to the center of the table to grab a menu from the pile, clipping the moment Jin sent Hoseok a warning glower from below his brow–startling Y/n’s hand to retract from the menu at such a strange display of emotion from him. He must’ve not noticed she had glimpsed the passing shadow of it across his face, because he just returned to reading his menu with an impassive expression like it hadn’t happened.

Next to him, Jungkook leant back in his chair with calculating eyes on constant surveillance of the dining room having caught the strange interaction. The muscles of his cheek twitched when his teeth clenched down on his cheek but he too chose not to call them out on it, settling for observation over confrontation. Though it was only seconds before he sensed Y/n’s stare, his head turning to meet it. A microscopic quirk of his brow was the silent ‘You okay?’ she had grown accustomed to when in group settings, and for some reason–she found her face heating up at their eye contact, and averted her attention to her menu with the tiniest of nods.

Lunch was quiet, Hoseok distracting himself with his phone and Jin focusing on his meal. Namjoon’s accusations from the evening prior taunted Y/n each and every time she snuck a look in Jungkook’s direction, and they delved even further into her skin when she would find him already looking at her. The only thing that managed to stop her from glancing at him was when Seokjin looked up at the same time, wordlessly intercepting their game of tag with an unreadable flick of his brow.

On their walk back to Y/n’s room, she and Namjoon were discussing all of the progress (and lack thereof) he had been able to make during her week of absence, plucking at her guilt that bloomed at his words–frustrated with herself for missing only her second week of work. Y/n knew he wasn’t upset with her, and that was the only comforting string that kept those feelings from stacking on top of the thoughts she was already sorting through that day. She fought to keep herself present in the tale he was currently recounting of his run in with their new greenhouse roommate–a black widow spider they lovingly named Julia Caesar.

“...I put the pot down then and could see all of her scary little eyes–no thanks–she claimed it as hers now I’m not going to risk evicting her and getting bitten. Consider this a warning when you come back next week: she has taken over the empty terracotta pot on the second floor. I might even get a tag to put on it so everyone knows.”

“Joon, we can just take her outside.” Y/n snorted, resting her head on the shoulder of the arm she was holding onto. “Just take the pot outback for a day and I promise she won't be there by sundown.”

Namjoon looked affronted, curling his mouth in disgust and bringing his chin inwards at the suggestion. “Absolutely not. I’m not touching it–like I said she owns it now.”

“Then I’ll do it.” A new thought clicked in Y/n’s mind, a teasing smile warming up her lips. “Unless you are actually starting to like her now…”

He sputtered, leaning in front to open her door for her. “No. Never.”

“Are you sure? Because last I checked a bet was made, and it smells like I might be winning.” Y/n reluctantly untangled herself from his arm and stepped into her room.

“Positive.” Namjoon’s neck was turning red, and his eyes refused to stay locked in one place.

Liar, Y/n giggled to herself.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Y/n gave an exaggerated nod, dragging out the last word longer than necessary and leaning up against her door with her hand already tapping it closed. “You owe me a trip to Longwood.”

The close of her door stifled any of his protests, and Y/n couldn’t stop the loud laughter she knew he could hear from the otherside, his defeated footsteps trailing down the hall towards the landing to escape his loss.

Y/n found her thoughts slower than they had been that morning. They no longer raced around her brain like they were trying to put a seasoned Mario Kart player to shame, instead, they ferried about the currents of her mind, coming and going at a pace much easier to control now that she had food in her stomach and Namjoon on her mind. Thus, she was able to tuck her nose into a book, flipping through a dozen pages or so when someone made their presence known on the other side of her door.

Seokjin stood on the other side of the threshold, a leather guitar case perched over one shoulder and his cream colored tote bag on the other. Y/n beamed up at him, though his eyes were stuck inspecting something on the floor in front of the door. Y/n followed his line of sight, trailing down his figure to a handful of peonies trimmed in perfect matching length and laid in a pile at the foot of her door.

“You have a few gifts.” He commented timidly, and bent down to pick them up for her. “I was going to text you but I decided to just change and come get you myself.”

“Oh-No worries!” Y/n gingerly took the flowers from his hand with her confusion evident on her face, she definitely had heard anyone else knock since Namjoon had taken his leave. “You can come in if you want, just give me a second to set these aside” Y/n eyed the guitar case over his shoulder quizzically. “Did you still want to play some games or have you decided to change the plans? Not that I’m complaining–I loved listening to you play.” She left the door open for him to follow in after her and dropped the new peony additions on her desk. She was going to run out of room for them soon…Y/n thought as she watched a few stray petals fall loose from one of the stems and scurry to the floor.

Jin shifted uncomfortably in the center of her room, his gaze following her movements as she leapt to stand on her bed and clip the bundle of stems to a string Jungkook had helped her hang up. ”I was going to suggest we dust off the old Wii and have some fun with it, but it’s so nice out today that I couldn’t excuse staying cooped up.”

Y/n hummed in response, mesmerized by the petals and the fresh scent they emitted. The flowers were cut at the exact length as the first she had received–but this time it was four perfect blooms staring back at her with full blushing faces. Y/n tore her eyes from them and turned back to Jin, hopping down from the bed to join him in the middle of the room.

“Where are we going? I’m not exactly dressed for anything fancy.” She examined his casual attire, simple black pants hemmed above the ankle and nice white t-shirt hidden beneath a thin blue jacket. Y/n caught the glint of a small silver pendant hidden beneath the collar of his shirt but couldn’t make out its shape.

“Me neither.” He chuckled, giving her a sweet smile. “Guest house?”

Y/n felt her eye twitch slightly, but chose to ignore it and push down any thoughts of getting roped into being there late into the evening–she would just be sure to tell him she had plans with Namjoon after dinner as an excuse if need be. “Sounds good.” She glanced down at her own lounge set with a wrinkle of her nose. “I probably will change actually–much too hot for fleece.”

Jin gave her an affirming nod, and gestured to her door. “I’ll wait out here.”

Y/n quickly shuffled out of her clothes and into a pair of green embroidered shorts and a white long-sleeved cropped shirt, tugging on some taller socks when she remembered how Namjoon had chided her last week for not wearing any during tick season–god forbid she get one during their walk through the woods and she would have to admit it to him (not that the rest of her outfit was necessarily tick friendly, but she had to compromise somewhere). Y/n stood tall, regarding the mysteriously appearing flowers where they dangled over her bed apprehensively, then slipping out into the hall after Jin.

Thankfully, Jin didn’t linger around the estate for very long, urging them out and onto the dirt trail to the guest house and lake to enjoy the afternoon sun. Jin was awfully chatty this time, distracting her with antidotes of his work week and about how he had gone out for lunch with his parents the day prior–filling her in on their most recent trip to Portugal. The house came into view before Y/n had even realized it, and the unknown passage of time reminded her of how much Jin seemed to calm her mind, unwinding her tensions and putting her at ease; the kind of friend that had you forgetting that time itself even existed when you were with them.

Once in the house, Jin took a moment to prop open the sunroom door that led directly onto the turf and the fire pit, and moved back to drop the leather case onto the glass table top in the center. Y/n made herself comfortable, finding the same rhythm they had a few days prior: her seated comfortably near him and him fiddling with his guitar.

He unlatched the case and lifted the instrument out from within, situating himself down next to her and beginning the task of tuning the strings according to his liking. Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of fresh early evening air and letting it furl in her lungs and release through her mouth at a lazy pace. The chorus of chirping woodland animals and the sound of rustling trees comforting her in the best way possible. She couldn’t even remember any of the things that had worried her that morning. Something about Jimin? It didn’t matter. She was comfortable here now with Jin.

The scent of freshly cut grass and the thick beams of sunlight that enlightened clouds of floating dust, cut through by the shadow of a bird flying overhead in front of its source made her feel truly at home. While she loved the ease of travel and particular beauty of D.C while in college, nothing beats a nice day in Pennsylvania trees. The smell of fresh earth and clean air made her muscles relax into a tranquil state that only grew in strength when Jin started absentmindedly strumming a few chords, simple progressions designed to warm up his fingers.

Y/n curled brought her legs up onto the couch with her, and rested her elbow on the back of the couch to prop her head on it, captivated by how easily his fingers slid on the fretboard to find their next chord. The rhythm promptly switched, moving into a climbing introductory flourish of a song she could immediately recognize as one of Hozier’s. She didn’t interrupt him (nor did she feel pressured to find a distracting hobby) and let him start through the opening verse, his time kept by his foot rising and following on beat against the wooden floor beneath them. His confidence had already multiplied since Wednesday, for the lyrics were already spilling from his lips in lilting shapes of romance and yearning, flowing into her ears and muddying her senses.

He didn’t take much breaks in between songs, just letting them flow from his hands and mouth with practiced ease and filling any empty space between them that would have been. Y/n didn’t mind, enjoying the silvery tone of his voice and the nostalgic plucking of the strings. Y/n felt her mind growing loose, having found a moment of refuge from whatever was going on back at the hotel and estate drifting completely from her brain and leaving her floating, light as a feather through the soundscapes that enveloped her in their welcoming arms.

There was a small pause in the music as he leaned forwards to fish through his bag that she had recognized from before to thumb through sheet music and chord charts for the next song he was looking for.

Y/n took that moment to take in his soft skin in the golden cast of the sun from the windows, and the way it glowed. She saw him now for how she knew him best beneath the carefully built exterior to match the role of the eldest: kind and carefree. Y/n nibbled at her lip, taking in how relaxed he seemed in that moment. His back wasn’t straight as a pencil and his face wasn’t forced into a pleasant smile. Y/n felt honored, thinking about how this must be the place he felt the most comfortable–and she could clearly see why. Out here almost felt like a completely different property, like they could walk through the door and pretend this was their house, a normal house with normal activities. No pressure of any preexisting legacy or long family history to pull them this way and that. Y/n watched him closer now, her brow furrowing in thought as she started to see him in a new light. Relaxed in the normal. Is this what he wanted? Normal? Did he even want to be at the hotel?

She had always just assumed he would–because that’s what everyone else concluded as far as she could remember–especially with him being the first and only biological child of the Kim’s. Her trail of thought continued even further, unraveling new strings from what she had always thought was a completed tapestry, a picture perfect image of Seokjin Kim. But there were loose threads at the bottom, and Y/n kicked herself for never even bothering to check.

She had yet to hear anything about his intentions to take over after his father as the Hotel and Estate’s finance manager, and wondered just what he was doing still working at the front desk if his parents were in the process of finalizing their retirement. This encouraged her previous line of thinking, why had she never asked him what he wanted? She decided the only way to build a better read into what he was comfortable talking about or not talking about, would just be to shoot her shot and see how it landed.

“Jin?”

“Hmm?” He paused his rummaging, and looked at her from over his shoulder.

“Your parents are retiring, right?” She approached the subject gently, not yet wanting to scare him away.

He looked back at the splayed open folder, a small twitch of his nose the only sign he gave her for how he felt about the question. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well I was just wondering…You know…” Y/n tried, hoping he would catch on to her question so the topic would be in his hands to choose whether or not to elaborate further.

“Oh.” His hands lowered the folder down to rest against the glass, and he sat back against the couch to look at her, his mouth quirked to one side. “I’ll be taking over sometime next year if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jin was good at guarding himself, Y/n concluded. But she was also good at picking apart his body language: No jokes and a fidgeting mouth. He was either extremely uncomfortable or extremely serious. Both of those options were odd to see on someone who constantly chooses to put forth the face of an easy going friend, or an excellent host. Jin was truly a chameleon.

“How are you feeling about that?” Y/n tested the waters even further. “You don’t seem very excited.”

Jin’s eyes moved swiftly from one part of her face to the next and chewing on the inside of his lip while he thought up his next response. Y/n rushed to apologize, not wanting to ruin the peaceful environment he had curated.

“You don’t have to answer that–I’m sorry that was–”

“I don’t know.”

Y/n froze, her eyes flicking up to look at his face. She watched part of his guard crumble enough for him to sigh and give a rueful smile.

“I want to keep the tradition going, and I don’t mind the work. A family of number crunchers breeds a great mathematician so it’s not that I’m worried about.” He gave a dry chuckle. “I just feel like…” He looked out towards the grass, his eyes cloudy, “Nevermind. I don’t want to trouble you with this.”

“No, I want to listen,” Y/n tucked a leg beneath her and shifted her body to face him completely. “You feel like?” Y/n urged him onwards, her eyes shining earnestly.

He moved his guitar to rest on the case, and mimicked her position, turning towards her and propping leg on the couch, bent at the knee and brushing against her own. “ I just feel like I wasn’t ever really asked. It was just expected of me. I like the job and I love being here, but I just wish it would’ve felt more like my own choice and less like an obligation.” He flicked a piece of hair from his eyes only for it to fall right back into place. “I know that sounds a bit contradictory–if I like it why should I care right?”

“I get it.” Y/n shook her head, and laid it back on her palm to regard him with reassuring eyes. “Even if you want it, it feels nice to have autonomy over the decision.”

“Which is something I don’t really feel like I have.” He shrugged. “It’s such a first world problem-” He held his hands up, his eyes rolling to take in the ceiling and his voice squawking out two octaves higher in a mocking tone. “ –‘Oh no! I have a well paying job and rich parents! I never have to make a decision ever again! Woe is me!’”

Y/n giggled at the display, and he seemed pleased at being able to make her laugh. “If it makes you feel better, I always felt like such an ass complaining to classmates about why I left.” Y/n copied the same silly tone he had used moments prior. “‘Yeah my family is rich–and I threw that away because I got mad. Woe is me, I made my own bed and now I have to lay in it.’” She dropped her tone back to its normal octave. “So don’t worry, we are of the same ridiculous kind. I won’t judge you.”

A tiny melancholy smile graced his features, took her in with warm and inviting eyes. “I’m sure you did great in school though. You’ve always been hard-working.”

“Right back at you.” Y/n shot back, a playful smile working its way through her calm demeanor. “Although, I do admit–I do work pretty hard.” Y/n gave a feigned modest expression and puffed up her chest. “One of us has to make sure there’s trouble around here. It may be tiring but it’s honest work.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Every time I try to be kind to you, you just insist on instigating.” He took one long finger and pointed it at her. “There’s enough trouble around here already, no need to overdo it. I’m getting too old to chase all of you around.”

Y/n let out a short burst of laughter, making a few of the distant animals scatter at the sound. “Old? You’re not even thirty yet!”

“I’m close enough.” He rubbed a hand against his brow in exasperation.

“You have like three years left until then, take a breath.” Y/n scoffed with a shake of her head.

Jin mumbled out a quiet ‘my knees say otherwise’ and moved to grab for his guitar again. “Would you like to hear anything else?”

“Hmmm…” Y/n brought a finger to her chin, and shrugged, “Have you been working on anything new since Wednesday?”

Jin thought for a moment, and grabbed for a few sheets of paper from the folder and lined them on the table in a neat row. “If you don’t like it just let me know. It’s just a song that was recommended to me recently.”

Y/n motioned with her hands for him to continue, and made herself more comfortable (if there was even any more comfortable she could even get at the moment). Y/n let her eyes close, leaning her head against her hold to focus on the melody with no intention of giving him anything other than her full attention. She barely noticed the song growing distant–the chorus feeling more like a distant memory than a song played no more than a few feet from her ears; and the sound of the trees and bugs faded into a mindless blur, more white noise than anything decipherable. Her head fell from its perch on her hand and onto the back of the couch as her breathing evened out.

_________________________________________

“Wake up!”

The harsh whispering voice pulled Y/n out of her impromptu nap, her eyes blinking to adjust to the the once bright room being coated in shades of black and blue, only a ring of yellow light around the sunroom’s now closed door from the outdoor porchlight having been turned on.

Y/n searched for Jin, but he was no longer next to her–a discovery that had her swallowing roughly against her scratchy dry throat. Her unfocused eyes scanned anything it could make out in the dim lighting, finding his guitar case latched shut and propped in the corner of the room, the chairs and couches, but still no Jin.

She felt incredibly disoriented. Her body felt distant, like her head was no longer connected to it, and her hands trembled slightly with muscular fatigue. She tried to clench them into fists but her grip strength was weaker than usual, and the act of sending command signals to her own body felt foreign. Y/n started to panic, trying to move each limb on its own but was met with great difficulty–how long had she been out?

Whoever had woken her up was also nowhere to be seen. Their voice, urgent and familiar, had the hair rising on her arms and her breath quickening. She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, but it definitely hadn’t been Jin’s. If she hadn’t known any better she would’ve said it almost sounded like it had come from outside, as if called through the screened windows or the storm door. But no one was present, no footsteps and no human figure stood outside the door; just a symphony of crickets and the bump of a gentle breeze against the window panes.

Y/n stuck her hands in her pockets in her first instinct to find purchase in the comfort of her flashlight ‘lightsaber’, yet found only the folds of the soft fabric–it was empty. Her stomach sank in on itself, the realization that she had forgotten to grab one from her nightstand before she had left had shame crawling up her throat and clenching her heart down in its unrelenting fist. So much for any trust she had built with Jungkook, she mourned.

She was alone, with no weapon, and Jin was missing. Nausea, an unforgiving enemy as always, made its appearance–climbing up the back of shame like a ladder to join in on its torment. Her hands began to slick with sweat, and she couldn’t seem to swallow enough times, the motion her only weapon of choice against hurling her lunch on the outdoor rug. She may not have found her flashlight, but she had been smart enough to at least grab her phone–which she found snug in the deepest part of her other pocket much to her relief.

Y/n yanked it up into her shaky hands and just about keeled over when she registered the time glaring back up at her. It was coming up on 10pm–she had missed their scheduled meet up time and dinner. And to top it off, she was going to have to walk back to the estate in the dark. Alone. Her heart thumping painfully in her chest with dread at the idea of walking the trail by herself with no light but her phone. At night in a city, there’s streetlamps or houselights–hell even in suburbs you can usually still see the residual wingspan of human life stretching over the sky from the surrounding areas.

Not in the woods of Pennsylvania. You will find no sign of light here.

Not when there are acres upon acres of trees and mountains surrounding you on all sides, and the nearest city is a 20 minute drive out–any and all remnants of it swallowed up by the hungry shadows of the natural world.

Y/n unlocked her phone, and her breath hitched. There were over a dozen missed calls from her three accomplices, and almost double the missed texts. And most of them were from Jungkook.

[Jungkook] 7:03pm : Where are you?

[Jungkook] 7:09pm: I’ll have them put food away for you.

[Jungkook] 7:55pm: Are you alright?

[Jungkook] 7:58pm: It’s me outside your door, are you asleep?

[Jungkook] 8:02pm: You’re not in your room. Please respond.

[Jungkook] 8:27pm: I’m going to come look for you if you don’t answer any of our calls.

[Jungkook] 8:29pm: Y/n. Answer please.

[Jungkook] 8:32pm: Please.

[Jungkook] 8:40pm: I’m coming to find you.

Y/n quickly moved onto the next notification, trying to rush through them all so she could get her bearings and respond.

[Joon 🌱] 7:08pm: Are you feeling okay? Or did you fall asleep again…

[Joon 🌱] 7:22pm: Do you want me to bring you up something to eat?

[Joon 🌱] 7:46 Okay seriously Y/n, I’m starting to get a bit nervous. If you could just give me something to let me know you are safe.

[Joon 🌱] 8:06pm: We went into your room without your permission–sorry. Where are you???

[Joon 🌱] 8:08pm: Jin isn’t answering either. Are you still with him?

[Joon 🌱] 8:30pm: Kook is freaking out. Please just call one of us if you can.

Jin wasn’t answering either? Y/n’s head began to pound and her eyesight threatened to give out, pulsing the light of her phone screen in and out of focus like some sick joke. She groaned quietly–for that was about all she could muster, and willed her pupils to focus back in on the messages.

[Zoltar]: 8:00 pm: You ded sleepy head? Lol

[Zoltar]: 8:10 pm: Okay this isn’t funny. Where are you

[Zoltar]: 8:16 pm: I’m trying to hold down the fort but the kid is getting antsy

[Zoltar]: 8:22 pm: Answer your damn phone Y/n.

[Zoltar]: 9:01 pm: Where the fuck are you?

Y/n wasted no time in sending a message to their group chat to let them know she was alive, her fingers being as remorseless as her vision, each digit moving as if weighed down at the tip; the only solution to typing was to drag her finger across the screen and hope for the best.

[Morning Glory 🌼 ]: I’m ok I thinkk. I’m at theguethouse. I don’tknow how I slept this long–I wasneven tired before. I don’t feelllright.

[Morning Glory 🌼 ]: I was wt Jin

[Morning Glory 🌼 ]: Idkk wher he is

[Morning Glory 🌼 ]: I rreallyy dontfeel rright.

It hadn’t even been a full ten seconds before her phone screen was blocked by an incoming call from Yoongi, and she hastily swiped to answer it as quick as her fingers would let her, holding it to her ear with a shaky hand.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n.” Yoongi hissed through the receiver. She heard the loud commotion of Jungkook and Namjoon shouting back at him from within his range, the microphone picking up the sound but not their words. “Shut up I’m trying to listen to what she is saying!”

Y/n kept her voice a whisper, scared that Jin would return from wherever he had left and catch them talking to each other red handed. That was if he was even still here…

“Y/n?” Yoongi’s voice cut through again, pulling her out of her hazed funk.

She hadn’t answered him yet she realized with a shake of her head, and did her best to slur out her explanation.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I don’t…” Y/n dragged her eyes to scan what parts of the house she could see through the door, just a dark kitchen entrance and the start of the dining room. Unease pooled into the pit of her stomach, and the unmistakable feeling of being watched pricked at her skin like cold drops of rain on a hot day. She wasn’t alone, and from the sense of it, whatever was watching her wasn’t human–meaning if she were to stretch the invisible vines of her spiritual senses out it could trigger something much worse at the expense of finding more information.

“I’m scared.” She shuddered out, embarrassed with how weak the admission sounded to herself.

She could hear Yoongi’s heavy breathing on the other end, and it sounded like he was running.

“We are on our way–about halfway there. We were already heading to check the lake. Thank god you’re not there. Just stay put and try to stay out of trouble.” His voice rang through loud and clear, but it did little to combat the growing fear in her belly.

A dark shadow passed by the frame of the door and her heart stopped–or at least it felt like it–but she knew it couldn’t have with how loud the blood rushed through her ears with each pulse.

“Okay scratch that I’m really scared.” Y/n’s voice shook, edging off of the sofa and crouching below the couch and out of sight, praying it hadn’t seen her yet. Her legs were still waking up–she wouldn’t be able to run if she tried just yet.

The figure returned, walking in her line of sight, only to turn back out of it. It didn’t take long for her to understand that it was pacing quickly from one end of the dining room to the other where it would disappear around the wall and return seconds later; its body language agitated and fidgety.

Yoongi cursed, and she heard Jungkook’s garbled voice trying to shout something to her.

“I don’t have my light.” Y/n could barely hear her own voice it was so quiet, and she hoped they still could by pressing the microphone as close as she could to her lips without touching it. She had surely lost all of Jungkook’s trust, she lamented to herself. What a fool she has made of herself.

Whoever was in the other room had started muttering to themselves, their breath coming out labored around the sharpness of their words. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she could tell that they were upset, and that made her terror only grow. She couldn’t stay on the phone, it was too risky–they were going to find her, and she was going to have to run. There was no other choice.

“Hurry please, someone is here.” Y/n begged, and before he could respond she hung up. If she waited at all, or gave any of their voices time to pierce through her mounting resolve she would stay stuck in her spot, using the sounds of their breathing like a security blanket of delusion that it would do enough to keep her safe. But it wouldn’t.

Y/n could now make out the sound of the spirit’s rushed and clumsy footsteps dragging back and forth across the wooden floors, picking up speed and slowing when they would turn to retrace their steps. The muttering grew more frantic, and its volume increased–surpassing agitated and skyrocketing into twisted mania and fury. Y/n struggled to swallow, and knew she was going to have to make a decision on when to run, but the thought of her lost friend held her back from fleeing each time the figure vanished behind the wall.

Jin, where are you? Y/n pleaded in her mind that he was alright, and had simply gone to the bathroom or to one of the guest rooms to lay down. But why hadn’t he woken her up? Why hadn’t he said something?

“But as for someone else near you, the smell of death is quite strong–someone at your table perhaps? I’d know your onions if I were you.”

No. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes that threatened to leak salt streams of fear down her cheeks. That was a lie. Jin has to be okay.

The person pacing back and forth groaned in frustration, and she saw them bring their hands up to their head to cover their own ears and their steps got faster as a result, blazing lines into the floor as they darted back and forth. Y/n made up her mind in that moment that there were only seconds left before this thing erupted into something more; her gut and her senses buzzing with alarm bells, and her nose picking up the first few whiffs of rot.

There was movement outside on the grass, and Y/n let herself have one delusion to keep herself sane (funny way the human mind works, isn’t it?)–and let herself believe that it was Jin. Y/n knew that this was her moment, and tracked the figures next turn and watched it vanish for a second behind the dining room wall, timing how long it took for it to come back into her sight and turn. Two seconds. Y/n shook out her hands that had finally regained feeling, wiping the dampness from her eyes on her shorts. Two seconds will have to do, she reluctantly noted.

When it turned and started its trail back behind the wall, she leapt to her feet and bolted for the sunroom door, ripping it open and throwing herself down the few wooden steps to the grass and taking off towards a broad shouldered figure bent forward at the waist to inspect something in the grass. Y/n could hear the figure from the kitchen thundering into the sunroom, its voice layered with a thick accent in a language she couldn’t discern at the moment–but she didn’t care. Not when Jin was coming into view, and alive.

“Jin!” Y/n called out for him, the tears from before returning in an overwhelming sense of relief.

As she approached him, he rose to his full height and Y/n grayed in horror when as the distance lessened, no features became distinguishable on his face: there were no plush lips and no warm brown eyes to look down at her. Just a dark shadowy figure. Y/n kicked up grass and left divots in the dirt below it in the wake of her feet finding enough of a hold to stop her trajectory forward–but she was going too fast. She collided with the figure, the shadows licking at her skin with icy tendrils where two calloused and freezing hands gripped at her shoulders and held her in place. Y/n bit back a scream and tried to shake the hands off of her to no avail.

“Get off me!” Y/n’s hands disappeared through their torso when she tried to push them away. Though it did not verbally respond, the shadowy figure that held her shoved her to the side, stepping in front of her and towards the speedy inhuman figure that pursued her from the sun room. Y/n watched as the tall figure in front of her pulled something long and slender from his back to hold at eye level.

A gun.

A gun that was pointed directly at the rapidly approaching dark figure from the kitchen.

Y/n’s hands clamped down on her ears and crouched low to the ground to mute a deafening bang that rang from above, splitting the figure from the guest house into two wispy halves. The spirit howled out in agony, the sound almost just as tumultuous as the gunshot–then he was no more. Y/n watched both halves dissolve into dusty, weightless, particles and fall to the grass where the demonic figure had just been a second before. Gone.

The remaining figure in front of her lowered the gun and turned his head to nod at her, using one hand to point at the woods behind her frantically, only stopping when she turned her head to look to where he was gesturing wildly to with a slow and uncertain turn of her head.

From the direction in which he pointed, two more dark outlines of men emerged from the treeline, these two varying in height and build. They ran up to where Y/n was crouched, peering down at her with similarly featureless faces, and the taller one of the two took both cold hands and lifted her to her feet, waving at her with what could only be read as excitement.

Y/n blinked at the shadowy man, her ears still ringing from the gunshot and the scream. Something in the way he held his hands up to her face and tilted his head with an air of innocent youth brought forth another image. An image from the woods outside the historical society, and an uncannily similar shadow figure tiptoeing behind her. Y/n gasped, her hands falling from her ears to muffle the sound.

It was the same indecipherable man from before–the shadow from the historical building that had followed her and Jungkook.

“Tree man?!” Y/n breathed through her hands, the sound warped by the press of her fingers.

The shorter one (not tree man) grabbed at her forearm, and cold sensation coated her hand that they enveloped in a shadowy one of their own giving one firm tug in the direction of the treeline. Y/n tried to pull her arm away but stopped; Tree man tapped her arm to give her a thumbs up that held too much enthusiasm than Y/n found appropriate for the situation they were in, but nonetheless the effects were reassuring–at least slightly so.

Tree man faced forwards to the first figure, and reached up over his own shoulder to unholster his own musket, juggling with parts of it she couldn’t see and jerking his head to the side in the same direction his shorter friend was trying to lead her to.

Y/n didn’t need any other convincing to hightail it out of there–not when she could see the ground pulsating with an ever growing dark mass where the other ghost had vanished, whispers of his anguished mutterings spewing from it like a pit of souls.

Y/n spun on her heels and sped off towards the path, her hand in the hold of the shorter spirit. She glanced back, catching the tallest shadow man perching his gun on his shoulder again in preparation for the return of the demon, sidling up next to Tree Man in uniform position. It was almost funny that now with something else completely taking over her fear, she didn’t think twice as she barrelled through the brush with a potentially dangerous spirit and onto the dirt path, her mind focusing only on finding her friends and getting the hell out of there.

Y/n pumped her arms and legs with fervor to keep up with the short ghost’s agile speed as he weaved the two of them through the complete blackness of the woods, trusting in the way he appeared to know exactly where they were going. Her eyes caught the faraway glare of a flashlight–a gleeful swell of hope pooling between her struggling lungs and throwing herself to accelerate forwards blindly in search of catching another glimpse of it. When the glares turned into tiny bouncing balls of white light Y/n held her free arm up and shouted out to them from down the trail as loud as she could with what little breath she had.

“It’s me! I’m right here!”

There was a chorus of distant shouting, and her legs nearly gave out in relief when she recognized each one of the voices calling back to her as her friends. As the lights grew closer, she could make out the familiar shape of Jungkook charging ahead of the other two, and Y/n wanting nothing more than to be scolded by them because at least it meant she was with them and not lost in some hazed mess in an entanglement of spirits back at the guest house.

The distance between them closed and she released the ghostly hand with no fight from the spirit, and hurtled herself towards Jungkook with what last of the power she had left in her, his arms already open to catch her fall. They collided with an audible noise, the wind knocking out from her lungs an entirely acceptable trade off in her mind for being able to feel the warmth of his body radiating heat onto her cold skin. Y/n felt her teeth chattering–Had she been this cold the entire time? She had been too focused on fleeing to even notice that her skin was coated on goosebumps, or that her fingers were completely numb.

Jungkook held her close, his eyes trained on the figure that had guided her here with a leering glare. Yoongi and Namjoon filed in next to them, exhausted and out of breath. Yoongi’s wild eyes fixated on her face, and Y/n watched his muscles make their move to bathe the helpful spirit in light from his flashlight. Y/n freed one arm from Jungkook’s hold and waved it in front of the beam of light as best she could, some of it spilling between her fingers and streaking across the spirit’s figure.

“Stop! They helped me!” Y/n cried out desperately, the figure raising a hand of its own to shield the light from its face.

Yoongi directed the beam towards the ground, his shoulders still heaving and his eyes raging with a strong emotion she couldn’t read. For a moment it was just the sounds of the night, and their heavy gasps for air while they were at a standstill with the figure.

“Who are you?” Jungkook grit through his teeth, the whites of his eyes swallowed whole by his stabbing glare. “Show me who you are.”

The figure faltered forwards, as if tugged by an invisible rope towards Jungkook. He dug his heels in and scrambled a few steps back to try and fight the magnetic draw of Jungkook’s words, glancing over his shoulder and back to the four of them he hastily surrendered both hands up into the air with a skittish shrug. Jungkook stiffened and opened his mouth to speak, but Yoongi beat him to the punch.

“Do you even know your own name?”

The figure inched his hands back down to his sides, letting them fall against his legs with a somber shake of his shadowy head.

Yoongi grunted out a sigh and wiped at his brow, the release of breath doing nothing to soothe the tension radiating from him. “He’s harmless.” Proving his point, he shined over shadow with his flashlight to find him immune to the effects of the light. “A soldier.” Yoongi licked his lips and pocketed the flashlight, gesturing to the figure with his chin. “You can go.”

The figure held up one hand in a grateful salute and followed Yoongi’s order, whirling back down the path whence they came to the guest house. They watched him dissipate into the darkness through the beam of Yoongi’s flashlight, and Y/n felt the shake of her knees threatening to give way, gripping onto Jungkook tighter. Namjoon came up on their right side, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder blades to which Y/n threw one of her arms over Namjoon to siphon more heat into her clammy skin.

“No more guest house.” Yoongi declared with a huff and kicked a rock with vengeance, watching it sail into the tree line and clamber out of sight.

_________________________________________

Y/n stumbled along the now lit dirt path, her one side tucked tightly against a steely Jungkook, and her other hand squeezed between Namjoon’s fingers. Yoongi strode in front of them, invisible steam still seeping from the top of his head and into the air and his shoulders were still scrunched up towards his ears while he took it upon himself to light the way ahead of them all.

Y/n felt terrible for stressing them out the way she had–the only way she seemed to be able to anymore. But she couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks at the thought of Jin’s voice that had lulled her to sleep, or his sweet smiles. It was unlike her to leave anyone behind–she hadn’t even gone in to look for him–she had only thought of herself.

“Jin,” Her mouth worked on its own accord, her voice croaking out from between her lips and into the heavy air that surrounded them. “We need to find Jin. I just left him there–I need to-”

“-You didn’t leave him anywhere.” Yoongi spun on his heels, his tone cutting. “Jin left you as far as I’m concerned.”

Y/n stilled, causing Jungkook to stop with her. “He wouldn’t have if he had known better. Something is wrong back there and he might still be out there alone.”

“His fault.” Yoongi grunted, starting forwards again.

“No it isn’t.” Y/n admonished, refusing to take any further steps forward. “He could be hurt. Think about what Bea told me Yoongi!”

“We can’t trust everything every ghost says. We need to get you to bed before you pass out.” Yoongi didn’t stop even though he knew she wasn’t following.

“You can’t be serious!” Y/n turned to Namjoon and Jungkook for aid, imploring them to back her up. “He can’t be serious!”

But neither of them could bring themselves to look at her. Y/n felt a few more tears drip from her chin, and used her hand that was conjoined with Namjoon’s to furiously wipe them away.

“We don’t leave anyone behind. Ever. We stick together, remember?” Y/n weakly called back up to Yoongi’s distantly retreating figure, her shouts making him freeze mid-step. Yoongi coiled in, pulling taught with an inhale like a poised hunter, waiting to strike. He snapped into motion with his exhale, whirling back to stride towards her with purposeful steps.

“We aren’t kids anymore Y/n. This isn’t play time with Uncle Bear–This is real shit.” He took one finger and pointed at the darkness behind Y/n, down the path towards the house. “No one gets left behind? I think Jin forgot the memo. Because the last we saw of him on the way here, was him getting into a car at the front of the estate, dodging any questions Namjoon threw at him of your whereabouts and driving off into the night with one of his best buddies.”

“No…” Y/n launched herself into denial, her lungs constricting in on themselves like they were getting stuck together with every exhale, and every inhale ripped them apart with a painful spasm. “Who did he go with?”

“Who do you think?” Yoongi hissed through his teeth. “Hoseok Jung.”

The world spun around her–or maybe it was her that was spinning–she couldn’t tell. What she could tell was that her stomach was lurching dangerously, and the nausea that had held her in a chokehold before had made its return. The ground approached her quickly, and Y/n barely managed to crawl a foot to the left to avoid hurling on any of her friends' shoes.

“Yoongi–that’s enough.” Namjoon reprimanded the shorter one in front of him, and rushed to rub comforting circles on Y/n’s shoulder blades. “She’s been through enough tonight.”

Namjoon turned his words to Y/n penetrating her peripheral with a fixed worried stare. “He’s not mad at you Y/n, I promise. He’s angry with them–we all are. But first and foremost we just want to get you home safe, okay?” He raised his tone to a volume loud enough for Yoongi to hear and then some. “And we aren’t going to take out our anger on anyone that doesn’t deserve it, right?”

Yoongi slid his eyes closed with a sigh, regarding Y/n’s pathetic look at him from over her shoulder, and Namjoon’s heated glare. Jungkook remained silent; as wooden as a puppet while he stood motionless where she had left him.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi submitted softly and pressed his tongue against his cheek, his dark eyes glistening vaguely in the reflecting light of his flashlight. He abruptly turned with a clear of his throat, and started forward again. “We need to get you home. You should sleep.”

The remainder of their trek was silent, save for Y/n’s occasional sniffle or Namjoon’s concerned voice checking in on her in hushed whispers. Once the estate had come into view, Yoongi separated from the rest of them, his head kept low while he rounded the back of the estate to enter through the back door while the rest of them entered through the front.

Forcing Jungkook to let her enter the Estate and walk up the stairs with only Namjoon was like trying to bend hot metal with her bare hands, but he relented with the promise that he could come check on her before bed once he had gotten himself settled; only responding to any and all comments with single words or shakes of his head.

All Y/n could think of as Namjoon guided her up the stairs was how terribly she had messed up that night–with Yoongi, with Jungkook…

With Jin.

She couldn’t even say his name in her head without wanting to cry. She couldn’t fathom that he would have left her behind on purpose. But then the more Y/n thought about it–the more things fell into place.

Jin always requested to spend time with her on days they conveniently planned to try something new–or push a new boundary spiritually. There would’ve been no way he could’ve done that on purpose. No way he would have known their plans ahead of time.

“They’re listening to me. I’m sorry.”

Jimin’s note crashed through her thoughts, spinning through her brain like a tornado–sucking up everything that she knew and spitting it out into mismatched and jumbled theories and conjectures.

The night when Hoseok and Jin returned from a mystery outing with her mother; The way Hoseok had clearly lied at lunch about his whereabouts; Jin’s impeccable timing on wanting to spend time with her; Hoseok dancing with her while her mother whisked Roland away; and so many other “coincidences” she could spiral herself into if she wanted to–though they all led back to the same conclusion: they had to be working together to cover up whatever mess she had made. They had to be listening, she just couldn’t piece together the how.

“Here we are,” Namjoon sighed, pushing open her door for her and steering her into it. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” The smile he gave her said everything she needed to know–that he had already come to the same conclusion, and that he was doing his best to keep everything together with a solid hold; the foundation beneath the crumbling walls of everyone else’s processing.

God she loved him.

“Yeah.” Y/n murmured, stumbling to her closet and pulling out whatever was closest to her. Y/n didn’t care if he was still in the room with her, tugging off her shirt and pulling on her t-shirt swiftly. They were adults, and could handle it.

Her sleep shorts were tugged on and she tossed her old ones haphazardly into her hamper as she passed it on the way to her bathroom, catching sight of Namjoon bent to inspect her plants in a covert way of offering her privacy. He followed her into the bathroom, hovering in the door frame and watching her lazily scrub at her teeth, before she moved onto washing her face.

“We will figure this out, okay?” Namjoon broke the silence, convincing both her and himself with his words.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Y/n didn’t have it in her to say anything else, and buried her face into a soft towel. Her friends might have been betraying her this entire time, and she was dumb enough to let them.

“Christ!” Namjoon leapt into the air as Jungkook rounded the corner to stand next to him in her bathroom doorway, having forfeited knocking and moved to letting himself in. Jungkook didn’t react to his startled outburst, keeping his face still as stone and his eyes distant while he observed the scene.

“I’ll let you two be.” Namjoon resigned himself, his hands sliding into his pockets. “If you need me for anything Y/n, I’ll be here.”

“Same to you. They are your friends too.” Y/n returned, dropping the towel and moving to take him in a hug meant to comfort the both of them. Y/n felt his shoulders shake beneath her hold, if only unnoticeably so, and he squeezed her back just as tightly.

“Yeah,” He breathed, “They were.” Namjoon untangled himself from her hold, and kept his face turned away from hers while he made his way to her door, making his exit quickly.

Y/n could feel Jungkook’s eyes still boring into her, and she readied herself for the impact of his scolding–whatever it was, she deserved it. She turned to face him, leaning herself against her bathroom counter to leave less than a foot between them and face him head on.

“Whatever you want to say–say it now.” Y/n held her hands out in surrender. “I know. I fucked up.” She took one hand and counted off her sins for him, her voice growing more hoarse with each itemized bullet she was giving him to throw at her. “I forgot the flashlight, I was by myself, I didn’t think things through, I trusted a ghost of all things-”

Jungkook lunged forwards, one hand coming to cradle the back of her head, guiding it to his shoulder and the other wound his arm across her middle to squash her against him with crushing force.

“Stop.” His voice was much flatter than she expected, far from the anger filled wrath she anticipated.

Y/n welcomed to embrace, returning the gesture with her arms clawing around his middle to grasp at the back of his t-shirt. “Why aren’t you yelling at me? Please yell at me–do something. Anything.” She begged, his distance hurting more than any scolding could.

“I thought you were dead.” The dam broke with a broken whisper, and he trembled against her. “I thought I was going to have to find your body somewhere.” If it was even possible, his admission had him pressing her to him tighter than before, desperate to feel her heartbeat and her breath against his skin. “And then when we found you, you were so fucking cold–I couldn’t tell if you were a ghost.”

Y/n felt as though a hole had been punched through her chest, carving out everything it could to find a grasp on his words. “I’m so sorry.” Y/n sobbed, one of her arms coming up to card through the hair on the back of his head, imitating the way he held her to him.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.” He spat out the words with soaked venom, and she felt two droplets drip onto the side of her neck. Then another. And another. “It’s them.”

Jungkook didn’t let go of her for the rest of the night, and Y/n didn’t want him to. They had tucked him into a makeshift bed on the floor next to her own, thrown together with extra blankets from the hall closet and shoved as closed to the edge of her mattress as they could get it. Y/n’s arm was hanging down the side of her bed, securely tucked between Jungkook’s fingers and his cheek while they both stared absentmindedly with glassy eyes into the darkness of her room; him on his back and her on her stomach.

“They aren’t going to do this to you anymore.” Jungkook muttered from the floor, her eyes flitting down to stare at his face. “I won’t let them.” He looked up at her with pure rage simmering beneath the surface of his irises–hot and biting. “I promise.”

With Jungkook’s slow and steady breathing next to her, and his real hand slotted in hers, any haunting images of the beast from the kitchen or the figures from the woods were kept at bay. Eventually the two of them managed to slip into a restless sleep with only a few hours until sunrise.

_________________________________________

Y/n was hungry. That much she was certain.

Anything else? Don’t ask–because she wouldn’t have an answer.

It was late Saturday morning, an appropriate foggy mist settling over the grounds that occasionally found itself sliced through down the middle by rays of sun that crept through thick layers of harmless cloud.

Namjoon had prepped the batch of tea they were supposed to use the day prior for this afternoon–where Yoongi had decided that if evenings were going to be so complicated, they might as well try to make use of her mother’s absence by trying out a session while the sun was still up (more or less with today's weather, but the point still stands). Nothing would stop them this time–absolutely nothing. Not when the stakes had risen that much higher after the scene at the guest house. For the only thing Y/n had left to do before Namjoon finished up a few last minute tasks at the green house while Yoongi handled an A/C emergency at the hotel, was to simply find something to eat. Only there was one problem.

Yoongi was–as explicitly stated–at the hotel; Namjoon was working at the green house for a couple of extra hours that he had hoped to take uninterrupted; and Jungkook was getting in a much needed gym session to work through the remaining tension and stress of the previous night, with the promise to be back as soon as possible. Thus leaving her with no way to satiate her impatient stomach.

Whatever time Jungkook was to return, wasn’t soon enough. She was starving–no dinner and no breakfast, coupled with a traumatic experience and life altering news? Yeah, she was rolling the dice for whether or not she was about to shoot off into a rocket with the only possible destination being the beginning of a manic episode. Which while great for productivity, would not be great for her physically or spiritually.

Y/n texted their group chat with her thoughts, feeling more like a toddler than a grown woman for having to ask to eat–but it was better than running into the beast from before or any other demon that would choose to crawl from the cracks and stomp after her. She tried to will the time to pass faster (which never worked, but it was worth a shot) by getting herself dressed and ready in clothes that were easy to move around in, but comfortable. The sound of someone approaching her door had her all but skipping over to open it–her excitement dropping like a vase crashing to the floor and shattering into little pieces at her feet; the same feeling of anger and desolation at the sight of more fucking peonies.

Y/n huffed, grabbing them from the floor and tossing them carelessly onto her desk with the pile from the day prior and talking out into the empty room and hall, leaving her door open for the mystery culprit to hear. “Alright, this isn’t funny anymore. Whoever is doing this–I got the message, thank you for the flowers but I’m going to run out of space.”

Nothing.

Nothing except shoes scuffling on the carpeted stairs and rounding the landing to approach her hall.

Taehyung came shuffling around the corner, a paper bag swinging over his arm that held a cup of coffee up to his lips, his head bent to take in the screen of his phone and keep the straw lodged between his teeth for quick and easy access.

Freedom, both Y/n and her stomach thought gleefully.

“Hey!” Y/n waved at him from her doorstep, being sure to keep her feet within her door frame.

Taehyung perked up at the sound of her voice, his lips releasing his straw to give her an inviting smile. “Morning–or I guess good afternoon.” He chuckled.

“Morning, what are you up to?” Y/n tried to sound nonchalant like she wasn’t just talking to thin air, and also internally praying to the universe that he hadn’t gotten anything to eat from the cafe and would be open to taking her down to the kitchen for something.

“Needed some caffeine–had a bit of a rough night of sleep.” He scrunched his nose as he approached his own door, stopping to face her. “You?”

“Oh–nothing interesting over here. I only just woke up not too long ago myself.” She laughed nervously, moving to prop a foot up against the back of her knee and leaning all of her weight on the doorframe. “Would you perchance want to go grab something to eat together?”

“Perchance?” Taehyung laughed around his straw, and took another sip to hide the growing smirk. “I would love to, but I did just have a pastry from the cafe so I don’t have that much of an appetite for a big meal.”

Y/n’s face visibly fell, and her stomach let out a similar cry of its own. “Oh.”

He bit his lip over a boxy smile, his eyes flickering from her stomach to her disappointed pout. “If you wanted to spend time with me that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Y/n’s face grew warm, and she rushed to defend herself. “I didn’t–I mean I want to I just wasn’t trying to–”

“It’s alright.” Taehyung held the paper bag up for her to see, and gave it a gentle shake. “Luckily for you, I brought extra back for seconds.” He twisted open the door handle to his room and gestured into it with his chin. “Care to join me?”

Y/n started forward, but paused. If Namjoon wasn’t enough to keep the demon from the basement away, who's to say Taehyung was? But she couldn’t resist the invitation, she was human after all–and her stomach was threatening a coup on both her insides and mental state if their ransom demands weren’t to be met. And after her events from last night , she could feel herself tipping into foolish carelessness from being so close to the safety of her room–she had much better chances here than having to run through the woods in the dark.

“One sec!” Y/n called back to him, rushing back into her room to tuck one of her flashlights into her jogger pockets and her phone in the other. She practically leapt across the hall between their doors to slip into his room, missing the questioning raise of his brow at her antics. He left the door of his room cracked slightly behind him as he entered, and moved to drop the bag of pastries onto his dresser.

He had kept his room close to the original design she noted: red ornate wallpaper, a dark and heavy solid wooden bed frame that was older than any of the children on the property, but a new mattress lay with a vintage floral comforter in creams, oranges, pinks and reds to match a sizable old painting hung on the back wall that–forget the kids, was older than anyone that was still within the land of the living on the property. The two end rooms sandwiched in the middle of the estate were more narrow than the rest, the shapes reminiscent of what a true house from the 1800’s looked like: narrow and tight fitting with an even smaller bathroom and closet than most of the other available rooms. Why he chose one so small when there were still a handful of bigger ones available, she couldn’t know.

However if there was one thing she could pinpoint about Taehyung, it’s that everything from his music taste, style, and interests were what she could describe as classic and vintage; so it was no wonder he kept the room mostly the same as it had been when G-min had lived in it before him. The past lived on with Taehyung, and she had to admire his effort to stick to his aesthetic, noting the choices of antique furniture he must’ve dug out from the basement or attic to suit his personal tastes.

“I grabbed a few extra, so take your pick.” Taehyung tossed his brown coat over a skinny coat rack that had a few nicks in the varnish from age.

Y/n felt little embarrassment in doing as she was told, poking around the bag at what he had to offer, settling on perching a fruit tart on her palm and looking around for some place to sit. Her eyes landed on the thick wooden chair snuggled up against the wooden desk, and back to Taehyung.

“Is it okay if I sit there?”

“Hmm?” He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Wherever you’d like to sit is fine by me.” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk threatening to erupt on his face only held back by a bite of his lower lip as he moved to say something else but stopped himself–finding it best he didn’t. Y/n shrugged it off, and focused back in on her saving grace, the light in a dark tunnel: food.

The first bite was well worth the risk of coming over here in her opinion, a small sigh of relief being pulled from her system when the flavor burst across her taste buds, laying a balm over her hyperactive mind. Content with munching on the edges first, she barely registered Taehyung coming up to her side, his loose fitting emerald green sweater brushing over her shoulder as he reached over her side jolting her to notice his close presence. His hands fiddled with a weathered record player that took up the corner of his desk, and dropped the arm carefully down onto the record he had played last, not bothering to put a new one down onto the turntable.

Y/n’s phone buzzed in tandem with the first blow of the gravelly trumpet from the speakers, a text from Jungkook asking if she could wait twenty more minutes for him to get back and shower. She responded with a simple thumbs up and shoved it back into her pocket, not wanting to come off as rude or disinterested in the man before her who had turned to perch himself on the edge of his bed, their knees practically touching with how close the desk was to his bed.

“How have you been? I haven’t gotten to see you around as much this week.” Y/n braved the first question, the urge to both genuinely check in on him and to have him be the one talking so she could continue taking bites of her pastry.

“I should be asking you that question.” Taehyung tilted the top of his cup towards her, but seemed to eye the way she scarfed down the sweet treat and relented his answer first. “I’ve been alright. Worked on some setlists, went into town to help Jimin pick out a nice outfit for this weekend and for a few other things…otherwise I’ve just been here, practicing.” He shrugged, giving her a coy smile. “How’s that pretty head of yours?”

Y/n choked on the last bite she had just managed to push into her mouth, and beat her chest a few times to help ease it down her throat. “I-It’s fine. Thank you.” She averted her eyes to stare mindlessly at the painting above his bed.

“Good to hear. Did you go see someone about it?” Taehyung remained passive and friendly, but the question felt intentional if the way he plucked at the paper edge of his lid was anything to go by.

“I did, my mom ended up taking me. They said everything seemed alright–though I might have to go get imaging and shit done.” Y/n rolled her eyes with a dry chuckle. “Whatever, as long as my mom pays for it.”

“You don’t think you should?” One of his eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly and he teethed at the edge of his straw. He gestured for the paper back with the two remaining pastries in it with a beckoning hand.

Y/n shook her head, holding the bag out for him to take. “No–I don’t see the point. There’s never been a reason to go get anything checked.”

“Until this past weekend, you mean.” Taehyung corrected, and looked up at her from over the edge of the bag, pulling out a chocolate croissant and putting away half of it in one oversized bite.

“Yeah, until this past weekend.” Y/n scratched at her ear awkwardly at her own slip up, and tilted her head to get lost in the way the vinyl spun, reflecting the light from his window on the grooves.

Taehyung grunted around his second bite, only a small portion of the flakey pastry left in his fingers. He chewed a few times, and brought his other hand up to wipe away a small dot of chocolate on his nose only to smear it across the surface to make a much more noticeable stain. “That’s a good enough reason in my opinion. You don’t want to fuck around with your head.”

“I guess so…” Y/n watched him toss the last small piece into his mouth and try to wipe at the chocolate again only to miss it entirely, her eyes unable to look away from the growing spot.

“You guess so? You went down pretty hard in there.” He scoffed, grabbing a napkin to dab at it yet still somehow missing.

“Were you there? I hadn’t seen you–” Y/n couldn’t watch him struggle any longer, pulling the napkin from his hand and leaning forwards, “–let me get it please.” She graced one hand along the edge of his jaw to hold his face still while the other rubbed at the spot, swiping it from his face and onto the napkin with a gentle hand.

She hadn’t realized how close her impulsive action had brought them, their faces only inches apart and her fingers still pressing into the side of his face forcing them closer in proximity. Y/n slowly brought the napkin down between them and hastily let go of his jaw.

“I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have done that without asking.” Y/n didn’t pull herself away from his entrancing gaze–a contradiction to her words–and neither did he.

Taehyung licked his lips, his eyes flitting down to look at her mouth and back up to her eyes so quickly Y/n had thought she had missed it. He didn’t lean in any further, but kept them locked in an intimate stare far longer than Y/n would’ve normally found comfortable. But lately she hadn’t felt normal.

“Would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning? At the cafe?” Taehyung's voice was silky, the baritone tone rattling up from his chest and to her ears like sweet molasses.

Y/n didn’t trust her voice to speak, settling for a few nods in its place.

Lithe, heavy-shoed, steps drew her back from his orbit and Y/n caught a glimpse of red pass by the crack in his door, stopping at her own.

“Y/n?” Yoongi’s gravelly voice called softly for her, and she heard his heavy work boots stop outside her door.

“Sorry Tae, I have to go–Can I call you Tae? Sorry I’m a mess today.” Y/n scrambled to her feet at the same time that he did, their bodies engaging in an awkward shuffling dance in order to let her roam towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow If I don’t get to see you before your show?”

Taehyung chuckled, his eyes furrowing in humored befuddlement and his cheeks flushed lightly while he tipped his cup in her direction as a goodbye. “Yes you can–and same to you. See you tomorrow.”

Y/n whisked herself out of his door, praying that he would keep his mouth shut to everyone else about just who exactly had come looking for her. His door clicked shut behind her and she came up right behind Yoongi, giving him only seconds to adjust to her arrival.

“Where were you?” He pressed, arms crossing over his chest where he still hovered outside her open door. “You’re lucky I came to look for you first and not the kid.”

“I was with Taehyung, he had offered me a sweet treat and my poor empty stomach and I simply could not refuse.” Y/n gave a sheepish shrug of her shoulders, and clasped her hands in front of her in prayer. “Please don’t tell the other two–they’ll kill me for leaving the room before any other ghost will.”

“Hmmm I don’t know…What’s in it for me to lie?” He looked at her expectantly, a ghost of humor passing over his features.

“My undying loyalty?” Y/n tried, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Boring.” Yoongi flicked her forehead, the surface of her skin tingling where they touched. “Try harder.”

“Ugh.” Y/n brought her hand up to run her fingers along the sore spot. “I’m still recovering technically, that could've set me back you know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Yoongi scoffed, and started down the hall. “Think of a better argument and I’ll think about keeping your illicit affairs with our neighbor a secret.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Y/n whined, following him out the door into the hall. “I swear–you always make assumptions about me and anyone I’m alone with that isn’t you.”

“It��s not an assumption if I can see it written all over you. Psychic remember?” Yoongi tapped his temple, and signaled for her to wait at the end of the hall. “I’ll head down to the dining room first and watch you come down just out of view of the cameras. I’ll be right there, just give it thirty seconds or so.” He pointed down to the foyer, and started in the direction he gestured to. Y/n felt her anxiety prick at the back of her throat, making it feel tight to swallow and the hall suddenly felt wider and far longer than she remembered. She couldn’t help but imagine the demon lurking just out of sight around each corner, and wondered what had gotten into Yoongi to even think about leaving her alone for thirty seconds after last night's escapades.

The top of Yoongi’s head stayed in view, giving her enough of an anchor to pull herself out of another spiral with the last thing he had said to her coming to the front of her mind. Could he really see how jumbled her feelings had become for her friends? Why did that concept make her feel more nervous than her discussion with Namjoon had? The seconds ticked by to thirty signaling Y/n to start her descent, and his eyes never left her movements as she walked from the landing to the dining room, just out of view of the cameras like he had promised.

“You still hungry, or did I catch you too late?” Yoongi smirked, obviously picking up on her increased embarrassment from his earlier blunt observation.

“No, I could definitely still eat something.” Y/n licked her lips, ready to devour the first full meal in sight.

“What are you in the mood for? We could wait here for lunch, or get something from the Adelaide–even go into town?” Yoongi asked, shifting his eyes from the front door to the kitchen.

Y/n snorted. “Eat here? Yeah right–Mom may be out of town but she’ll still find out somehow.” She squinted up at him curiously, eyeing his relaxed features. “What’s up with you? You seem much happier than your texts make you seem…”

Yoongi shrugged and licked his lips, quirking a flirtatious brow in her direction. “I get to see you. Isn’t that reason enough? Now make your decision.”

Y/n scrunched her face and released a few nervous chuckles, taken off guard by Yoongi’s blunt verbal affection but complying either way–swinging her arms back and forth at her sides in thought. Y/n had just landed on her decision to just go with the easiest option, partly because of respecting Yoongi needed to get back to work and partly because it meant having her meal in less time than it would take if they went into town. Visions of the rice bowls from the Adelaide lunch menu came to the forefront of her mind and left just as swiftly when Yoongi grabbed her wrist with urgency, his wide-eyed gaze fixed over her shoulder on something in the foyer.

“Run.” He hissed, tugging her swiftly from the dining room and through the kitchen doors without even giving her a chance to see just what had garnered such a reaction. Not that she cared to anyways.

Y/n could barely keep up with his unforgiving speed, hauling her behind him out into the hall, the doors of the ballroom whizzing by in a blur. Y/n stole a frantic glance over her shoulder, but could see nothing with her own eyes. Alternatively, he ears happened to pick up on another set of heavy footsteps pounding after them, the glass panels from the ballroom doors reflecting snippets of something broad and dark hot on their tail.

Yoongi turned them sharply down the hall to their right hand side, and kicked them forward to barrel through the entrance of the living room. Whoever was pursuing them didn’t falter, if anything their steps grew more prominent, and more if this world than that of spirits. They weaved in and out of the couches, armchairs, and end tables, and leaped over the stack of brightly colored bean bags that toppled over each other by the backdoor. They blew through it in seconds, and Y/n managed another look over her shoulder as they tumbled out onto the back porch, only a glitching image of a tall masculine frame visible for nothing but half seconds at a time. He blinked rapidly in and out of her vision, none of the flashes suspending in time long enough for her to see any defining features. Y/n cast a nervous glance down at her feet, only covered by socks–there hadn’t been time to grab any shoes and her feet were going to get wet-

“Don’t stop!” Yoongi commanded, jolting Y/n back into motion where she had unknowingly stopped.

They dashed across the yard, the grass still slippery from the overnight rainfall not enough to slow Yoongi down. They passed by the greenhouse, where a very confused Namjoon peeked out at the two of them from the window he had propped open. He opened his mouth to shout after her, but she hadn’t the time to listen to what any of the words meant let alone respond to them.

Yoongi didn’t let up, dragging her only faster to cross one of the small cobblestone side roads used only for residents and into the tree line–yet the mysterious pursuer didn’t seem to be following them any longer–no footsteps trailing after them.

“Yoongi–slow down!” Y/n shouted up at him, struggling to catch her own breath. “I don’t see anyone following us!”

He didn’t let up–if anything he squeezed her hand tighter within his own clammy hand, pulling her deeper into the damp trees and brush. Y/n twisted her wrist, his grip starting to hurt and her hand starting to feel like it was full of static from the lack of blood flow. She barely managed to shimmy it from his grasp and come to a tumbling stop.

One moment Yoongi’s boots were hitting wet mud and the next they were completely still, sinking into the substrate beneath them and coming to a stop with breakneck speed. His black eyes were piercing through her, urging her forwards.

“You need to run Y/n, they are coming.” Yoongi tried to grab for her again, but Y/n leapt out of reach–something in his face seemed off, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Who? Hadwin? The beast? Duane? Who?” Y/n demanded, subconsciously taking a step backwards.

“I don’t know–you know I can’t see that well. Who cares who it is?” Yoongi spat, his frustration evident in the way the words shot from his lips like daggers. “Now come on–let’s go.”

Yoongi made a second attempt at reaching for her, but Y/n took several steps away from him, backing away in the direction from which they came. She shook her head slowly, anxiety crawling up her throat making it feel tight. “No.”

Y/n’s chest rose and fell quickly, and her eyes zeroed in on every part of him–his wildly messy black locks, his deep penetrating dark eyes, the familiar furrow of his brow–everything seemingly normal. She couldn’t understand why every cell in her body told her to do exactly as he said. To run. Just not with him, but away from him.

“Y/n–Now isn’t the time for bullshit. We need to go, now.” He held fast, his jaw clenching in a clear show of self restraint.

“To where?” Y/n asked breathlessly.

Yoongi threw his hands up in exasperation, scoffing. “Does it matter? Anywhere but here!” He closed the distance between the two of them, forcefully grabbing her hand in his. Cold. His hand was cold.

Before he could tug her forward Y/n grasped at straws for a question he would surely know the answer to, not willing to accept his lackluster roundabout answer.

“What is your contact name?” Y/n took her hand from him again and swallowed her ragged breaths down, cradling her palm to her chest to warm the frigid temperatures that crept into her skin from his.

“Pardon?” He turned to face her slowly, utter disbelief pulling his brows into his hairline, rage simmering beneath the surface of his eyes.

“In my phone. What is your contact name?” Y/n snapped back, the unease in her chest engulfing her nervous system into panic mode.

Yoongi laughed–humorless and empty. There was no small hiccupping squeak in the back of his chest or visible gums creeping in on the edges. He trained his sharp stare on her, not like he was looking at her, but like he was calculating his next answer and her next move. “Is this a trick question?”

The hair on Y/n’s arms rose in response to the iciness that seeped from every crevice of him, her voice coming out harsh and challenging. “If it’s such a stupid question, it must be easy to answer it.”

It was at that moment–that terrible, stomach dropping moment–that Y/n saw the facade drop long enough for her to see through it. His lips curled up to show his teeth, pulling his nose into a scrunch like he had tasted something awful. The movement lasted only half a second, but it was something she had never seen him do even in childhood. The unconscious tick did not belong to him, and had slipped through while he thought of his answer. The action was foreign enough to make her arms feel disconnected from her torso as all other space to feel had been smothered by freight.

“Yoongi. My contact name is Yoongi.” Yoongi’s eyes looked black. Not his deep brown eyes that swallowed all light, compacting each ray into flakes of gold that only appeared to those gifted the chance to be close enough–to those looking at just the right time when passing by him. Those were gone.

A ray of sun slithered from a break in the gray clouds, shining down through the canopy of trees and scattering golden shapes over the dirt and their skin–only Yoongi’s looked spotted with gray where it touched. There was no lively glow. Y/n couldn’t bear looking at whoever stood in front of her for another second. This trickster, demon, mimic–whatever the hell it was–it wasn't Yoongi.

Y/n cut through the trees to her side, catching the mimic off guard for he had expected her to run back to the house, his long heavy strides starting in the direction they had come before registering her change of direction. Y/n could hear the trees rustling above her yet no birds, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears, and the mimic’s stampeding steps following after her–wearing the sound of Yoongi’s breathing like a costume. It made Y/n sick.

“Y/n, don’t be scared. It’s me, Yoongi.” That voice; it scratched from his throat in a whirling mixture of Yoongi and monster–like he had gone M.A.D. “Just slow down.”

Y/n didn’t let his taunting words try to convince her of anything other than the truth, and pumped her legs faster across the uneven terrain. The mimic growled, appearing to be displeased by her lack of response. Y/n could see a part of the winding road that led to the front gates of the estate coming into view like a mirage in the desert, tipping her forward into a frenzy to get out of the uneven woods that clearly had no effect on the creature’s speed.

“Don’t you love me still? Or have you already left me behind for someone else?”

Y/n tripped onto the asphalt, catching herself on her tender palm that had just healed from her last encounter and tearing open the freshly formed scars. Y/n gasped at the sting but didn’t stop, lurching to her feet and running straight into the road.

“Leave me alone! Yoongi would never say that!” Y/n screamed back at the haunting cackles of the mimic, still using a botched version of Yoongi’s voice over its own horrid scrape of vocal chords; like that would make her believe its terrible disguise after all the mistakes that have bled through the cracks during its attempts at camouflage already.

The creature let out an ear splitting screech of victory–a cross between a yowling cat and a whistling train as it blew from his cheeks–the mimic had made it to the road and was gaining speed. Y/n wouldn’t be able to stay in the lead for long. There would only be one other option–because she was fucking tired of running.

Y/n stopped, digging her heels into the road and skidding to a stop. The imitation Yoongi collided with her back, sending them both careening forwards and Y/n ducked at the contact; the momentum of his run sending him flying forward over her and onto the misty road below them. The blow did little to deter him, for he was able to spring up from his jumbled heap into a crouch at inhuman speed.

“You can’t run from me–I am not of the living.” The mimic swung his fist in a spinning arc towards Y/n, and she dodged the movement just in time for him to throw another–this time landing the blow successfully into her stomach.

Y/n bent forward from the force, the wind pulled from her lungs as her morning pastry threatened to make an unwelcomed reappearance. She hissed through clenched teeth, flames of wrath licking at her insides and pulling her upright by the sheer magnitude of its power. She was tired of being a punching bag.

“Enough with all of you!” Y/n didn’t think–she just acted. She’d have to apologize to Jungkook later for her slip of mental control; because her fist collided with the side of the mimic's gray version of Yoongi’s face.

White hot pain seared through the bones of her hand, but she didn’t care. Not when she saw the image of Yoongi flicker, a glimpse of someone taller curling down in on itself to hunch to Yoongi’s height.

“Sorry Yoongi.” Y/n hissed through her teeth, grabbing the ghosts shoulders and shoving him down to bring his face to meet her kneecap, extending her leg outwards to give him a kick in the chest for good measure.

The mimic sprawled back onto the asphalt, shock exploding with bursts of black blood across his face. The surprise didn’t last long, his slackened jaw closing to beam up at her with an excited grin that pushed more black fluid from the corners of his mouth.

“You are a lot more fun than I thought you’d be.” He cloaked his own voice with Yoongi’s eliciting more fury to pool in Y/n’s belly with each stolen syllable.

“And you are all annoying.” Y/n readied herself for the mimic’s next move, planting her cold feet on the road while the creature pulled itself to its feet, giggling all the while like they were two children playing on the lawn.

“Funny–because we all say the same of you lot. Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” The mimic barreled towards her, dodging all of her hits with animalistic reflexes and trapping her arms at her side with an iron grip. He used his own forehead to smash into the back of her head, achieving his intended goal of disorienting her enough to push her down to the ground.

The blow did no real lasting damage to him, the blood streaming from his nose black and thick as bothersome to him as a buzzing gnat, and he treated it with just as much disinterest when he wiped it onto his pants with the back of his hand.

“You know, we tried to make this easy on you.” He straddled her back, one knee planted on either side of her torso. “We sent people who were much nicer than you deserved.” slotted his hands through the roots of her hair and dug into her skull, tugging her head sharply back at an angle to grab her chin with the other, leaning down to spit into her ear. “But now we need to play dirty–you’ve proven yourself quite the bug.” He summed, feigning a pensive moment of consideration as he wrenched her head from side to the other. “I’ll show you a bit of mercy by offering you a choice: Would you prefer to be smashed into the pavement or would a quick snap of the neck please you?”

“Is that a trick question?” Y/n mumbled up at him, mocking the mimic’s previous choice of words. The distant sound of a rumbling engine made Y/n’s ears perk up, though she tried not to let the hop show across her features. She could practically hear the spirit roll its eyes at her response, and felt a thick liquid pool onto her shoulders and down her front where it gushed from his face.

“Then I will make the choice for you.” He sighed, readying his arms to coil around her throat to hold her still.

The car was coming closer–and rapidly. Y/n held her breath and just hoped it would be quick enough.

“Now hold still. Unless you want me to have to do this twice.” He sibilated, bringing one leg up to steady his foot against the road, giving him the extra push he would need to make quick work of her neck.

The car screeched to a halt behind them, and she heard Namjoon shouting her name, and over volant footsteps against the cobblestone. The creature above her snarled and constricted his elbow against her windpipe, the sensation all too familiar for Y/n’s liking.

“Oh look, an audience. I always loved the chance to put on a good performance. It’s my specialty after all!” he howled with laughter as the steps grew closer. “He thinks he can stop me, but we all know he is much too we-”

The creature's words were cut short, his weight was removed from torso and his arms wrenched from her neck. Y/n looked up as she gasped for breath, her forehead just missing a collision with the pavement in time to see them mimic eating his own words: Jungkook had him gripped by the collar of Yoongi’s work uniform, and pushed flat onto the pavement, raining down punches onto his face with sickening crunches. Namjoon skidded to halt, falling to his knees next to her, helping to guide her into a sitting position.

“So much for having those few uneventful hours to ourselves, am I right?” Namjoon panted out, his large hand coming to rest against the back of her head, and coming back coated in black goop.

“With us? Never.” Y/n shot back, equally as out of breath.

Their attention was forcefully stolen by Jungkook’s wrestling match with the demo coming to pause, the pummeling sounds ceasing to exist. Any final waves of the creature’s laughter were silenced by Jungkook's fists, their pummeling force only stopping to hoist the mimic’s face up to his own, speaking to him through gritted teeth.

“Who. Are. You.” Jungkook grunted out through heaving breaths, shaking the creatures shoulders for good measure. “I command you to tell me.”

The creature gargled out a few more snickers, though his confidence had faltered to a lesser degree of prominence than it had been moments before. “I’m your friend! See?” The creature’s eyes then widened into pure panic, pupils blown and his hands coming up to claw at Jungkook’s fingers, his voice and mannerisms a perfect imitation of Yoongi.

“Please! Jungkook stop! It’s me–Yoongi!” He gasped out, spitting some of the blood onto the pavement next to him. “You’re going to kill me!”

Jungkook hesitated, his grip tightening its hold in the cloth of his red jumpsuit and his jaw clenching. Jungkook shook his head, and pushed the figure down. “No.”

The creature immediately dropped the act, finding it ineffective. “Fine. How about this one?”

Y/n watched, unable to look away as Yoongi’s face melted–dripping away onto the pavement like hot wax, and disappearing with flourishes of steam. In its place, (s/c) flesh took its spot, and their eyes rolled back into terrified versions of her own. It was like looking in a mirror, only this mirror coated her reflection in black ectoplasm, and had a mind of its own.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon swore next to her, vocalizing her internal sentiments.

“Jungkook!” They used her own voice, the sound grating to Y/n’s ears and making her flush with how desperate the creature made her sound.

“I should’ve trusted my mom–You’re hurting me just like she said you would!” The mimic used hands identical to her own to grapple for Jungkook’s looming face. “I’ll love you if you let me go. Please–I’ll do anything just let me go!”

Jungkook was frozen in place, one fist suspended in mid air to take his next blow. Y/n wanted to scream at the creature for being so insufferable–for making moves so criminal she was genuinely worried Jungkook might lose.

“Don’t listen to them!” Y/n shouted at him, one weak fist coming up into the air. “Kick their ass!”

“No! Jungkook don-”

Jungkook lifted the creature by the shoulders and slammed them back into the ground, the image of her face glitching out of view, replaced by flashes of a dark figure in between each flicker. All of their protests were knocked from their mouth, for Jungkook was ruthless; his fingers digging into the skin of the creatures shoulders, and sinking into the surface like it was softened butter. The flesh spiraled between the gaps of his fingers as he grunted, pushing them deeper into the creature in search of something solid to grip onto.

Raw terror surged through the mimic’s face–not the imitation of hers or Yoongi’s–their own unadulterated fear as the realization of their impending defeat had set in.

“You can’t! You are weak!” They tried to use Y/n’s voice, but could not seem to find the sound of it anymore, the raspy wheeze of a demon coming through.

Jungkook’s fingers seemed to find what they were looking for, his forearms flexing with the strength it took to hoist it to the surface. The flesh of the mimic burst into a spray of black liquid, showering down upon his skin and his hair, staining his clothes; the fallout splattering over Y/n and Namjoon who were wholly unprepared for the explosion–their faces and arms coated in the substance.

The dark shadow of a man was all that was left in Jungkook’s hold, their legs flailing in their frantic scrabble to free themselves from his hold.

“Who are you?” Jungkook’s demand was unyielding, coercing the figure to let out a shout of defiance–but they could not stop the answer from displaying itself in front of their eyes.

As if coerced by Jungkook’s command, the shadows melted away into swirling mist, scattering into the ground like frightful animals. In their wake, a fully visible man was left behind for all to see: tall and lanky, yes sunken in and black–gone like all of the other M.A.D ghosts on the property. His jaw was squared and strong, wider than the average man’s, and his mouth was black and decayed, his lips split directly down the center as if sliced vertically with a knife.

Their throat contracted repeatedly, sounds trying to make themselves useful from his lips but found no proper order. That was until Jungkook asked again, lifting him closer to his face so they couldn’t avoid his prodding, all consuming eyes.

“Tell me now. I won’t ask again.”

“Cl-” The spirit started, unable to win the fight against Jungkook’s control. “Clay.”

Y/n sat ramrod straight against Namjoon, the name ringing a bell of familiarity–but not finding a clear image of the name.

“Clay.” Jungkook repeated, the name sounding more like a curse from his lips than anything honorable.

Clay nodded vigorously, as if doing so would save him from his wrath. “Yes. Now have mercy on my soul, reaper. I have done no wrong.”

Jungkook swallowed, his head tilting to the side in a taunting jerk. “Nothing wrong?” He cast his eyes in Y/n’s direction, taking in the damage Clay had done. Clay’s own gaze finding her gave her the privilege of watching the light of hope drain from his expression like a squashed bug.

Jungkook shifted his weight back so he could lift Clay a few extra inches off the pavement, coiling his muscles up for his final blow.

“Go to hell.”

Jungkook slammed the man into the ground, and Y/n felt the rumble of it within her, but not against her skin–the rumble was not of this world. The man shrieked with misery as his body crumbled into dust within Jungkook’s hands, the particles falling to the road and disappearing beneath the surface.

_________________________________________

“Du solltest seine Verantwortung nicht übernehmen, Bär.” : You shouldn’t take on his responsibilities, Bear.

“Ich bin sein Bruder. Was ihn beunruhigt, ist auch meine Sorge.”: I’m his brother. What worries him is also my concern.

“Und es hat nichts mit Patti zu tun?”: And it has nothing to do with Patti?

Bärchen: Little Bear (term of endearment for children).

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taglist: @rkive-joonie @kokoandkookie

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hrefna-the-raven · 1 year ago

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Christmas spirit

Masterlist - DBH masterlist

Words: 710

There was something about Gavin that always intrigued you. Maybe it was his moody brooding demeanour, or perhaps it was the enigma that shrouded his true thoughts. Whatever it was, you couldn't help but be drawn to the douche detective. And now, as the holiday season approached, you were determined to bring a little Christmas cheer into his life, even if it meant facing his middlefinger flipping side. Gavin hated each day with equal passion but you were almost sure that he despised this time of the year even more. He never revealed the reasons behind his disdain, but his scowls and harsher sarcastic comments around this time of the year spoke volumes. Still, you couldn't let his bitterness stop you from enjoying the Christmas market that had just opened downtown and you were determined that you needed Detective Douche by your side to do so. Besides you had your very own ways of making it up to him later on at home and you were determined to bring a smile on his face.

As night fell and the city lights twinkled, you convinced Gavin to accompany you after his shift. You promised it would be a quick visit, assuring him that you'd make it up to him later which earned you an annoyed huff but you also noticed the mischievous spark in his eyes. Reluctantly and with a lot of his usual drama, he finally agreed.

Stepping into the market, the air was filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the sound of laughter and Christmas music. The stalls were adorned with colourful lights and decorations, casting a warm glow on the surrounding snow. It truly was a sight to behold and the atmosphere was filled with a hint of magic in the air.

You weaved through the crowd, dragging an annoyed Gavin along with you. You stopped at each stall, pointing out the unique trinkets and tasty treats. Gavin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the silly Christmas hats you insisted on trying on, praying to every god he could think of that you wouldn't want him to try them on as well. Despite his grumpiness, a small, almost hidden, smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He would never admit it, but seeing your glowing smile while wearing a jingly elf hat warmed his heart. He truly loved you and while not being shy of showing it in the privacy of your own home, he still had an image to keep outside since he could never know if one of his colleagues was hiding around and would see a softer side. They all hated him at the precinct and mostly left him alone and he'd do everything to keep it that way.

As the night wore on, you finally decided to call it a day. The market was slowly closing down and the chill in the air became more pronounced. You held Gavin's hand tight, guiding him back to the car, humming jolly tunes while slightly dancing with every step. Once inside the warmth of the car, Gavin let out a sigh. To your surprise, his face softened and he turned to you with that typical smirk that always made your heart skip a beat.

"You know, I didn't think I'd enjoy this Christmas nonsense, but I have to admit, it was rather...nice", he confessed, his voice filled with a hint of wonder.

You smiled back at him, giving his shoulder a playful slap.

"Well, I'm glad I could bring a little Christmas spirit into your life, even if it was just for a tiny moment", you replied, your heart swelling with warmth, "but don't worry, I won't tell anyone that the great Detective Reed actually enjoyed some quality time on the Christmas market", you winked at him.

Gavin let out a soft chuckle, his fingers gently gripping your neck as he drew you near, pressing his rough lips against yours in an affectionate kiss. As he slowly released his hold, he leaned in closer, his voice filled with a deep longing, causing a delightful sensation to course through your entire being.

"I'm eager to see what you have in mind to make it up to me for bringing me along to this market."

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #dbh #dbh x reader #dbh gavin reed #gavin reed #detective reed #detective reed dbh #gavin reed x female reader #gavin reed x reader #gavin reed x you #christmas #fluff #gavin reed fluff

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winstonhenderson · 10 months ago

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𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟑.

𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓣𝓸 𝓣𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓐 𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔂

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎

May Pang’s Diary

I have new findings to write down! Today has been two months since I began working as Yoko Ono's secretary. Job was easy enough. Sort through schedules. Deal with callers. Write down important dates.

Mrs. Ono would visit or call me and let me know everything that needed to be done that day. She is a very capable woman. The media was able to capture that part of her. That's why I like her. But something else caught my eye which made me want to work here.

A piece of work that was her world famous, macho, peace loving husband John Lennon. Mr. Lennon was, in fact, the first man I ever fell in love with. When I met him in person one time, we clicked. Or I clicked with him. He seemed to be too drawn up by drugs. Still, he left a big impact on me. Being that I only ever felt attraction to women, I was happy for once I liked a man. But I was ever so suspicious and began to doubt my feelings. After confirming I indeed felt an undying passion towards him, I began to study him more closely.

Mr. Lennon has an interesting character. He, as a man, behaves very stereotypically, even more so than others in public. Though he was always trying to be sustained.

Meanwhile, in the studio, he would be more relaxed and sensitive, and more true. And that was the man I fell in love with. Or perhaps not.

He was... More feminine. More delicate. More open and caring. More emotional. More everything. He was more. He wasn't a cynic and a great thinker like people described him. In there he was... Just not like other men. Not even close. A fighter, but considerate. Drugs made him lose his manners but that wasn't really Mr. Lennon anyway.

I wonder why Mrs. Ono insisted on doing drugs with him. She is running away from something and I think that something was her husband's true nature - the feminine and overlooked side of him.

So. I did a little digging.

Turns out, USA's current most wanted musician doesn't have birth records. Never got made. No record in schools. No record anywhere. Records begin in 1961. when he married his first wife, Cynthia. ID was made only after the Beatles struck gold.

Note said: "John had lost his original one, and we were more than happy to make him a new one."

It was suspicious from the very beginning.

I looked through and found out Mr. Lennon had a sister. She was drop dead gorgeous and I wanted to meet her immediately. She lived in Mr. Lennon's childhood home. I tracked it down. She was scheduled to return to it a few days after the pair finished recording Mr. Lennon's new album. I was reminded of a story Mrs. Ono told me about stalking her future husband and giggled. I went to the house at that time just to catch a glimpse of her.

She was... Everything. She looked just like her younger brother but more mature and stoic. More... Just a sight to behold. My heart beat fast... But knowing her from Mr. Lennon's explanations which were brief she was:

"A goodie two-shoes."

"Prissy."

"Much too emotional."

I love those kinds of people. And that kind of girl.

She walked towards the house with a wistful expression like Mr. Lennon usually does.

The beauty's name? Julia Victoria Lennon.

She, unlike her brother, has her documents in check. She is weirdly absent from Mr. Lennon's photos and vice versa. She too had a knack for rock music. Their mother was a rock enthusiast.

I wanted to ask her about her brother so I came closer.

"Miss, miss!", I called out.

Her gaze fluttered towards me and she dismissed me.

"What do you think of your brother?"

"John?", she thought hard, her voice striking me as practically the same as her brothers, just a bit more "Julia" song type than "Twist and Shout".

"I dunno, he is doing fine and I'm happy for him."

"And you?", I enjoyed her.

She felt entraced by my watchfullness.

"I... I'm alright, thanks. What's your name?", she asked. She looked like she knew me already and was putting on an act. God, those eyes are so pretty.

"May Pang, at your service.", I chuckled.

"Julia Victoria Lennon, I suppose you already knew that. Why did you bug me of all people? Me and John had a falling out. I haven't been in contact with him since he left Cyn."

"Oh. I wanted to get some more information about Mr. Lennon. I suppose I'm doing this in one part for his wife's needs, I'm her secretary."

Ms. Lennon's face scrunched up.

"Why couldn't she just ask him? He would've told her."

"He likes to lie, and you know that. You were close with him. But you don't have any pictures with him, why's that?"

Ms. Lennon looked into my soul and told me:

"John burned them infront of me."

"He... Was he that cruel to you?"

"I was cruel to him... We were cruel towards eachother. I never took him seriously enough."

"He shouldn't have burned them. You are pretty. Would be awful to lose more pictures of you."

Ms. Lennon blushed. Was she?

"I, thank you... I forgot what it felt like to be called pretty."

"Forgot? I thought men flew at your sight?"

Ms. Lennon chuckled like only a fair lady would.

"Not really, they don't have the time to see me."

She patted my shoulder and I was brave and took her hand and kissed it. Ms. Lennon acted like she didn't notice. She looked at me with a familiar glare and said:

"Thank you for your attention. You made my day special."

Those words were engraved into my mind.

When I came back from Liverpool, Mrs. Ono was sadder and more nervous than usual.

"How did he- How did sh- Fuck that, how did he know..."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Ono, what's the schedule for today?"

She looked at me silently and gave me the papers. She was visibly more frustrated.

"Is it about Mr. Lennon?"

She nodded.

"What is it this time?"

"He found out that I was spying on him."

"Oh."

The mysterious Ms. Lennon lied to me. She told her brother about it.

"Now he is making a mess. I've lied to him too many times. What a hypocrite!"

"Yes.", I ordered the notes.

"Listen, May, he will come by today. If he sways, tell me. Because usually at these times he would get himself drunk. Try to hold him here as long as you can!"

"Yes ma’am.", then she left.

I worked on paperwork and calls until I heard a ring. I opened the door and who else but Mr. Lennon strolls in with a couple of vermouths? Why vermouth? That's a female drink.

I sat down with him. Oh god, he reminds me of his sister so much. She is like a goddess.

He drank a whole bottle of it on his own.

"Weak.", he mumbled half drunk, "Mayyyy!"

His voice was softer and fluffier. He is so...

No, I was imagining him as a woman all along! That's why I have a crush on him! He is... A man? Or...

His hair floated everywhere like Julia's. His smile was... So delicate. Everything about him seemed ladylike at that moment.

And that's when I concluded.

There is no Mr. Lennon. There was no man to begin with. It was Ms. Lennon, the lovely lady with a yellow dress and a beautiful rose emblem.

It was obvious now why Ms. Ono hated to talk about her husband's sister. Ms. Ono fell in love with the masculine part. I fell in love with the feminine part. And I wanted those lips now. God...

"Julia.", I calmly whispered with utmost want, "How long are you going to pretend?"

And weirdly, the woman? played along.

"I dunno, till I die?", she laughed and kissed my hand making me blush and retreat. God, she is so cute and lovely.

I went back to my station and worked.

The next day, Mrs. Ono was relieved that her husband- or her partner- her spouse didn't cause any more problems.

"I'm so proud of him! I don't know how he kept himself together yesterday... May, May!"

"I'm sorry I was thinking about someone special."

"A man? Or... Hm, a woman?"

I got defocused and saw Lennon walk in.

"God. So divine. She is...", I mumbled.

"So it is a she.", Ms. Ono chuckled.

"Julia is so pretty.", I finished.

"You like... My husband's sister?", her face scrunched.

I chuckled.

"No, it's a different Julia."

She brightened up.

"Well then, I have a delicate matter for you to handle. Follow around my husband and see how rough his affair is. I won't explain it in detail, just bring me the letters that arrive in his other home... Alright? I will tell him he needs to sort out his paperwork and that you were sent for that reason. He has been meaning to that for a while, and hasn't gotten to it."

"Yes. You are the organized wife afterall."

Ms. Ono went on her way dragging her spouse to her and explaining that I needed to accompany him.

He was amused.

"Yoko, love, see you then. Miss Pang, right?"

"Miss-ter Lennon, what is the paperwork you need help with?", I almost made a mistake.

He chuckled.

"Follow me then. And John is just fine. Or Lennon if you are uncomfortable."

I smiled.

"Fine, Lennon."

He sped up his steps and I kept up with him like a dog. From the back I could only see Julia. He led me through the busy NYC streets. Nobody approached him today on this walk. We arrived at a building and he grandiously stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder. Must've been defocused by his hair. God.

"We have arrived."

He took out his keys and opened the entrance door to the building. We went upstairs and entered his flat. It was... In utter chaos. Which was expected seeing his situation with Yoko.

"This is... Where in this pile of paper is the stuff that needs to be sorted?", I asked.

"Hmm... Those are just songs, dear. The pile of paperwork that needs to be sorted is in the other room. You could look at those, seeing that my wife is currently on my tail in every single way. It doesn't really matter who sees them."

I took some papers. Half of them were crossed out songs. Some comments were like:

"It doesn't matter."

"Without Paul you're nothing."

"Not melodical enough."

"I'm repeating myself. Paul never repeats himself."

Paul. Paul. Paul. Was Lennon still obsessed with Mr. McCartney? That could be the reason why my boss wants to know what he’s been doing.

We went into the only clean room in the whole apartment. In it were two piles of documents.

"Please, sort out this hell for me.", he pointed towards the papers.

"Alright.", I began working.

"I will try to clean the flat, your visit was a wake up call. What if Yoko walks in? She would be fucking livid."

I laughed. Lennon went to the living room and began cleaning.

I am fast and sorted the documents in no time at all. Now, I have to look through the dressers and find conspicuous items. I opened the small hidden compartment in the table. There were letters being exchanged between... Julia Lennon and Paul McCartney.

Hm... Why would they be in Lennon's posession?

I decided to take them. Maybe that was the affair my boss was reffering to. But I couldn't be sure. So I opened the dresser. In there, there were some unnamed letters. I took those instead, putting the ones I took first back to their place.

The dresser was filled with the most colorful and stylish dresses the eye could see. Lennon seems to have an eye for female fashion too. He was stylish for a man. Sometimes too much. So this is evidence of an affair! Except it isn't. Sitting there, freshly washed, was a checkered yellow dress with a rose emblem. It had puffy sleeves and a puffy skirt and it was Julia's. Why would Lennon have Julia's stuff? I even stopped being polite. God, her name. Her face, everything. I stole the dress. I did. I wanted to wake up everyday beside it. Lennon walked right in when I closed the dresser.

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Ms. Pang, I see you have done the sorting earlier than expected. I commend you on your swiftness.", he wove his words carefully, "Sometimes I ask myself why don't I get a share of you meself?"

"You could always ask for my services?"

He approached me. Intently. My heart skipped a beat.

"What are you doing?"

He placed his lips on my eyes. What the hell was he doing, and why was I enjoying it? Julia...

He-He-How did he-

"Making sure Yoko doesn't get a hold of this! Oh, love, you thought I would be so dumb to let you have the *very private and juicy* letters I exchange with... A person that you shouldn't know about or care about. Oh, I despise them."

"Your exchange with... Julia? Or no. That couldn't be true."

"Why not?", he smiled wide.

"Because...”, I was speechless.

"Exactly."

"You... Lennon, I'll find your weakness somehow."

"I know you will, you are capable."

"Why is your dresser full of your sister's dresses?", I asked.

"Why did you steal one of them then? Do you like it? If you asked me for permission I would've gladly let you have it."

He notices absolutely every detail.

"She... Wore this one when I met her."

"Oh.", he sighed, "You wanted to look as pretty as her?"

"No, it's not my size. I am... Could I even share this with you?"

This felt like a confession more than a sharing of facts. Lennon is Julia, this is the chance to prove it, based on his reaction.

He was amused by my behaviour. He was excited to learn what my intention was.

Wait... Was Lennon queer too? Why would he be with Mrs. Powell all those years? Or no? Was it an act to uphold some fame while playing around with the person he hates! This is too much.

"It should be right for you to know, because Ms. Ono knows too."

"Oh, so this is top secret.", he threw himself onto the armchair and spread his legs in expectation.

"I like women."

"What?", Lennon asked in pure disbelief, putting his glasses down.

I came closer to him.

"I like women. I like Julia."

"You what?", he was absolutely red. I thought he was angry, but he began touching his face and looked at his hands. I think he felt embarrassed and like he was caught in a stupid situation.

"You like... Julia?"

"The moment I saw her I realized I was in love with her. Not you."

"You liked me?"

"I like you?"

"You...", he was speechless.

"I want to see you again in this."

"Again?", he was stammering in confusion, "This can't be happening... This isn't... How it's supposed to go..."

"And how is it supposed to go, Julia?", I asked.

His mind didn't seem to notice that I changed the name.

"I... You were supposed to like John, not... Not Julia. Julia never got a confession. John only got those. No... She did get one. Only one. The most important."

"Paul?"

"My... Macca...", he mumbled and reset, "How the fuck do you like her?"

"Where is your mind?", I asked him or her.

"I asked you plain and simple."

"I ask you to dress in this. I like your wavy hair. I hate that you straighten it. I hate that you need to pretend. I hate that you put yourself up to this."

"What?", it was obvious there was no John Lennon anymore.

"Dress in this. We're going to go do girl things."

"I can't do those... I'm… I’m out of practice-", she grabbed her hand.

"We are going whether you like it or not, Julia."

"I would ask you how you know, and I would then break your ribs, but for some reason I don't find the urge to do that."

"Stop pretending and let's go. Dress up."

Julia had gone to the bathroom and I heard squeals of excitement. She must've missed this.

After about half an hour she was back to the way I saw her in Liverpool. I could settle with only being friends with her. Wait, that meant! Julia and Paul have an affair!

"God, that was the affair all along.", I said.

Julia was confused and adorable and I couldn't let my boss know more about that. And... I think Julia is trying to change... Lennon is working on his image.

"Well, where do you want to go, Ms. Pang?", her voice stayed absolutely the same, except for the tone of speaking. Lennon was cocky, Julia was caring.

"May is fine."

"May. Where are we going?"

"Hm, let's go to a shopping center!"

"I'll lead the way."

She was spewing bullcrap earlier. Men looked at her as much as women looked at her alter ego. No one approached us and we went shopping with no problems.

"May, which is your favourite store? I just love this one-or no, maybe this one is more up your alley? It’s fun and elegant like you!”

She chuckled.

“You know, you are pretty. Men look at you. Women are envious. Just see their reactions.”

She shrugged me off, “Thank you, but I don’t agree, missy.”

“And for the store. I like the choice. I want to buy something.”

“Yay!”, she excitedly dragged me inside.

“This formal section was made for you! Or no, maybe I got used to seeing you as my wi- I mean Yoko’s assistant. Gets confusing.”

She had a hunch for people’s taste.

“Yes.”

She stared at me carefully choosing the shirt and skirt that went together. I chose the navy skirt and white shirt and orange dots.

“Yeah it's a contrasting color scheme. Love it. Even better, you have orange pumps.”, she studied, “Let me just check the quality-”

I brushed her hand with intent. She carefully checked every seam.

“Try it on, and if it fits and looks nice on ya, I’ll buy it. You deserve it for figuring out little old me.”

How generous. I rushed to the dressing room and changed my clothes. I went out of the dressing rooms.

“That’s great! I am buying it.”, that made me blush.

“Thank you, Julia.”

“And you can’t call John normally, tsk tsk.”, Julia scoffed, “Anytime.”

I changed and handed her the clothes so that she could pay. She paid with no problems. Maybe she was finally calm, Lennon always had a lot of trouble with payment, he would get either swarmed with complaints about his career or get a lot of discounts. Mrs. Ono would misuse the second.

“Where to next?”, I asked.

“I want to drink a nice cuppa and eat a tin of mint choc cookies.”

“Really?”

“Could we go to a park and do that?”

“Alright by me.”

We went back to Lennon’s house and took a box of her favourite cookies and made some piping hot black tea that went with it. We transferred it in some fancy metal cups. Very soon, we arrived at Central Park.

“Exactly why you should trust John to buy the most useless looking thing and for him to be absolutely right about you needing it someday!”, Julia talked about herself in the third person.

I felt a presence.

“Cheers, May.”, she lifted her metal cup, “For smart women everywhere.”

“For us.”

I tried the dessert. No wonder it’s Julia’s favourite, it’s minty yet sweet like her alter ego and her. We talked some more. She told me how hard it is to spend so much time alone, because Yoko worked all the time and that she felt like a dead weight even though she wrote a whole bunch of stuff. She sang to me a couple of songs that she wrote during her solo career and the Beatles. She tore up when I requested Here, There and Everywhere.

“I don’t know if I could sing that one. Paul was better at that.”

“Is Mr. McCartney that important? You have a whole exchange between him and you! And it’s you as Julia!”

“Maybe he is! I dunno. He writes nice melodies. I'll give him that.”

“Wait, what I mean to say is… Paul is a great songwriter. He was the best partner I ever had.”

Is her brain that split?

“You don’t need a partner to feel whole. They just compliment you.”

She chuckled.

“May, you are really funny.”

She made a pause.

“But, you are right. I always forget that. Then I’ll sing it for ya.”

She sings well. So beautiful… It’s deep, because of years of pretending to be a man, but wispy. And the more she sang, she got better and fluffier tones making me feel so great.

“I like it.”

“Macca still sings it much better. But… Thank you.”

We began small talk. Julia would go into philosophy and weird facts. I’d pull her back or sometimes even engage in her topic… She is so engaging. Until we ate the entire tin. I have talked with her for too long. What if Mrs. Ono suspects something!

“I should head back to Mrs. Ono, she is most likely thinking about why I got held up at your place for so long.”

“Yes, you should. It was nice today, May.”

I blushed.

“Nice… I’m glad, Julia.”

She hugged me, oh my!

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, she kissed my shoulder.

“Alright. I’m going.”

“Bye, May!”

“Bye, Julia.”

I need to get back to my workstation and inform Mrs. Ono about her spouse’s documents and affairs. Well, no affairs. I went into the office.

“Good day, Mrs. Ono. The documents have been a hassle. I’ve checked about possible affairs and I have figured out that there was no physical evidence… Yet. Lennon is doing fine, he cleaned the apartment and is quite tired.”

“Tired enough to go on an escapade with his wife’s assistant? May, you lie well, and that’s why you are my secretary, but I figure you out anyway.”

My question was how did she know, but I kept quiet.

“You are asking yourself how? I saw you exit with Julia.”

Oh, so that was why I was uncomfortable for a moment in Central Park.

“You know too.”

“Of course! I get married to a liar?”

“So?”

“I know which Julia you were thinking about. Saw you leave the apartment. Followed you.”

“And.”

“Because of that irritating Paul McCartney always being on my husband's mind, I need you to do me a favor.”

“A favor? I’m your assistant, I can help you with anything.”

“I want you to be with my husband for a while. With John please. I need him to understand that there can be no affairs.”

“Oh… I can be with your wife, no problem. I already like Julia.”

I said something wrong.

“Wait, wait. No, not with Julia. Julia is completely unimportant.”

“But she is still-”

“No, she is a… Manifestation of John’s inability to give in to his ideas completely. No, she is the REASON McCartney keeps bugging John and me.”

“Okay… With your spouse?”

And she again sighed, but didn’t want to correct me any longer.

“Try to help John relax… He is on edge all the time because of her and McCartney. That affair needs to end.”

“Oh…”, but isn’t that against that smile’s wishes… I need to do my job. And this is in the description of my job.

“Alright.”

“Thank you, May.”

That’s the end of my findings. John Lennon is Julia Lennon. I am his partner. He is illegally with his wife. I will try to fix his problems as much as I can… Even though I respect Mrs. Ono very much and think she is quite smart, the thought of rejecting Julia is stupid. I will try to keep her intact. Maybe I am as blind as a bat like John is…

Rest of Sacrifame

#classic rock #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #may pang #yoko ono #the lost weekend #beatles fanfiction

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oogalaboogalabich · 1 year ago

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Posting my current list of things i wanna draw cause honestly, id much rather see someone elses take on a lot of them.

Most of these are labeled under "degenerate art ideas" so take from that what you will.

Please feel free to use any one of these.

-----

- The Kiss from fallout. If you know you know. Bane and bhaal with a dead durge and gortash.

-Comic: Astarion in trouble and drizzt comes out of nowhere all heroic and saves him and hes all doe eyed n shit.

-Halsin and mr meadhoney. "Do you have a particular fondness for large and...heavily armed men, mr. Meadhoney?"

-Lucretious the necromancer and astarion dancing the tango together with the skellies in the back playing music."The dead are always such superb dancers."

-Comic: Lucretious topping astarion, bent over the stages edge. "What if we put you in my show darling. Im sure we could find something for a star like you...something youd love as much as the crowd."

"Youd make a spectacle of me?"

"In front of THOUSANDS who come just to see the most perfect beauty in all of the planes."

"Oh yes i quite like the thought of that."

-Comic: "Orin: you suck up the tyrants vapors like a babe sucks milk."

"Durge: tch fuckin yeah i do."

"Astarion: D:<!!?"

"Orin: *quinten terantino scowl that she does*"

-Vellioth as the "i yearn for the urn" tiktok

- astarion amputee doodles (thank you godey for that idea)

-3 musketeers quote "i love that in a man." "What. Passion?" "Violence" but ghoap or durge. Maybe make a version of both?

-when (doodly dude) hit me real hard that one night and my jaw rattled in my skull all nasty, but make it durgestarion hehehehehehe

-Astarion licking blood from durge in one of the pools of blood (idea from mignon scene)

-Durgetash comic of demon slayer masochism abridged thing with the lady man demon

- bg3 crew bein a bunch of rly cute parrots doin dumb cute things.

-same idea but theyre all shoebill storks.

-comic: "Mighty sanctum" bit, then durge pulls astarion into his lap and kisses him. "Fairly certain you would castrate me if i tried to fuck you right here like i want...im still not sure if thats a deterrent or temptation" but ya know...better written.

"bloody degenerate...unhand me."

"Let go of my neck then."

"No"

"Well then...")

-Mungojerrie from cats and astarion both comolimenting each others pearls and casually holding something they swiped from the other. Riumpleteaser and durge are snickering and sharing a look, while RT has swiped something of durges, durge is pulling out his/her dagger

- Durge/Tav painting astarion in gold, and feeding him blood in a hedonism date night. he thinks the gold paint is just for tav. But he keeps saying "i just want you to see yourself as i see you." And stuch things.

He leads him to a giant ass mirror and lo and behold, there he is. In the flesh. The colors arent there of course. Hes looks like a statue, but its still...its more than the statue, its more than a portrait.

-Lyrical comic of durgetash ritual by ghost

-comic: Astarion is walking with the gang. He looks up to see something and narrows his eyes. He suddenly bursts into bats, flies up onto the space he was trying to peer at and reappears in a panic. Somethin like....

"I was eight bats...how...fuck...gods how am i supposed to even process that!?

Astarion are you alri

"I WAS IN EIGHT FUCKING PLACES AT ONCE TAV I AM NOT ALRIGHT"

-comic- Volothamp talking to tav about a rat exodus from "a mysterious "red castle" " where their bretheren kept going missing. So they gave up the territory and moved to a "red cave" just beneath it, where blood flows even more freely.

Astsrion recognizes the palace, and remembers a time where rats were in such short supply that cazador had simply switched to insects for a while. Well with astarion he had, the rest had been treated to cats and dogs, in order to lessen the threat against the local rat population. Durge in the meantime, has an odd memory about commanding rats to find reconnisance if they wish to find safety with (fuzzy writing that doesnt quite translate to words)

-Astarions ascension but its happy with evil hugs.

-Durge reacting to the gnoll birth holy hells that was funny.

-Durge eviscerating astarion while he arches off the ground as if in ecstacy rather than pain. Theyre both laughing in wild, crying hysterics and theres those timasks spores everywhere.

-Comic: A -Astarion in the mirror frowning and looking distressed, even a little pissed in a mini panel, as he pinches a small amount of belly fat. Hes a very healthy weight but like 200 years o trauma dawg. Next pannel he looks thoughtful (considering that hes never had enough to eat before to warrant gaining rather than steadily losing weight), third panel he looks up in a catlike manner and fingertip taps his stomach near his hip. Very silly smug cat face meme feels here

-Chaste kiss canon durgestarion/tash vs nasty canon durgestarion/tash

-Comic of vellioth uncovering mummystarion from crypt.

-Comic of astarion fucking posessed n bound durge in the shar library.

-An archer in general doing leg archery. Maybe two goofballs doin it at each other with silly faces. I can see any combo of minsc and lazel and astarion doing this weirdly enough.

-spit/ blood exchange between s/a astarions.

-That moment when astarion is blissed out in the sauce under durge in the grove. Maybe a pov where theres drops of blood mid fall, and theres two hands smearing it all over his chest.

-A astarion sitting on bhaals altar while durge and gortash dogfight.

-Gortash with his hand inside a lasceration in durges belly, squeezing himself off all slowlike inside durge. bloody handprints everywhere, though some have turned to black sooted handprints. Theyre kissing all disgustin

-Slayer and a predator Shilouetted gwtw style

-Astarion getting railed by a Predator.

-Lazel getting railed by a Predator.

-Honestly just put everyone in every fandom with a predator at some point like fu c ks sake

-Comic of the superimposed cazador murder/thunderstorm blood frenzy xex scene from that one fic i never finished

-The king E x Ragnar bath scene but nasty. (Also durgetash?)

-Astarion with floorlength hair and dripping with pearls, looking a little emaciated, or perhaps just extra slender themes to the art

Two smaller panels where vellioth h it away and carefully styles it while figaros corpse lays in the corner. Vellioth should look younger but less pretty.

-Durge slips his hands into astarions back pockets (in this comic he has invented ass pockets) "butt"

He goes "no, butt." And walks away. Durge looks down at his hands that are still right there where his butt was. And he squeezes the air with a smile

#thats alotta brainrot #astarion #durgetash #enver gortash #tavstarion #durgestarion #art #art ideas #blorbo #plot bunny #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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postsforposting · 1 year ago

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Colors in GO

Dec 23: updated purple

Dec 25: fixed blue, forgot to rewrite it before posting

I think the symbolism of blue and green are wrong? They don't mean heaven and hell. They can be associated with heaven and hell, but they don't solely mean that. Orange and white also seem to overlap, being associated with god, but so is blue which has been said to be divinity. I realized these were all entangled when writing various meta and trying to figure out what was going on in several scenes. Surely they do not all mean the same thing! Lo and behold, they do not.

Now that we all art here, let us recount the deeds of the dyes:

Brown: choice, free will/fate

White: playing by the rules

Black: Deceit

Blue: life/death

Gold: God's presence/watching

Green: god's game, the ineffable plan

Orange: agents of god's will

Red: passion

Yellow: defiance

Purple: power

Note: The shade of each color can mean something different. For example, say pink means love, then bright pink means love, and dark red would be absence of love or a negative/bad connotation. The way colors are combined also matters for context, what's on top or the placement on clothing vs how much of a color there is, what's the "core" color, etc. I am not sure, but I think in scenes where a tint is dominating the other colors, and makes a color look different, then the changed color is supposed to look different: so if in shadow gray looks black, then I think it's meant to be read as black.

There are other things that colors can stand for too, such as red being for blood or love. Those are the traditional symbolism, not the *main* usage in GO. I think some colors also aren't commenting on what is happening in a scene itself, but are foreshadowing future actions or telling us about hidden intent.

Also, I have been wrong about the colors before, this is merely the latest iteration on what I think they mean. I belabored it this time though, so I am pretty confident in these.

Opening montage=very beginning of s1e1 before Eden; intro=sequence we see with the theme music every episode.

Brown: choice, freewill vs fate

Basket the antichrist was delivered in, Hastur's and Aziraphale's clothes. Sandalphon's clothes. Obviously the ground and Adam's forest, seats in the bentley in s1 are dark brown. Lots of dark wood at the satanic hospital. Metatron's clothes. Jesus on the cross symbol, the cross itself. Furnishings and draperies at the Ritz are tan/cream. Desert of War's sword delivery, War's sword has dark brown on it, and half the clothing of the woman who demands to sign first. The summoner's clothes and every box he delivers. The witchfinders who burn Agnes wear dark brown, as does Agnes and the villagers. Floor of modern Anathema's house and the box holding the prophecy cards are dark brown, plus the cards themselves are tan/cream.

It can't be just earth alignment because Sandalphon isn't.

Brown is choice; light brown is free will and darker is more fate. It's associated with humanity but it's not solely humanity. Darker brown is less of a choice, pressured choice, and/or fate, like Anathema's family had with the prophecies: you don't have much of a choice when the world is on the line. They could have chosen not to follow the book though. Sandalphon has latitude in how he conducts himself and treats humans: he does not have to act as he does. Aziraphale's waistcoat gets lighter and worn as he develops his own beliefs rather than rigidly relying on heaven's demands, as he makes his own choices. He adds more lighter brown over time as he makes his own choices instead of being railroaded by fate.

Particularly, humanity was cut off from the light sandy desert while walled into Eden. When Crowley stops time, they all stand on light sand. The bentley having dark brown seats means it's got choice, but not much of one since it's tied to Crowley; also it was part of fate. Creating the antichrist was a choice, was also possibly a forced choice on Satan's part.

When Azi is discorporated to heaven and we meet the heavenly soldiers, he is dressed in a white shirt and tan coat and pants: he's got a choice to make, to go to war or not. The soldiers too all are making a choice to go to war, only pushed along a little bit by fate: the darker brown in their kilts. Except Azi has a white shirt, while the soldiers are button up fully in their choice, with white earpieces.

White: playing by the rules

White can't be specifically heaven or god, since we see it on Adam and we see bits of it on Crowley at some points. Aziraphale is not all white when he's discorporated in heaven as he defies heaven and talks to Crowley as a ghost: he's a white shirt and tan pants and coat. The outfit Adam has for s1, changing only the coat:

That is not heavenly, he's the antichrist. Can't be heaven's watching either.

Can't be strictly heavenly, because when Satan gives Crowley instructions it's white mist. It can't be autonomy, because that isn't the angels, isn't heaven, and Crowley would have some white as a demon. There has to be a reason why it's on Adam's core instead of on the surface like the coat. Playing by the rules? Yes--just like the "shades of gray", there's multiple ways to bend that just like god does, and you can play by the rules for your own ends, which fits why it's associated with heaven and god, and also why black is all over Crowley because he makes his own rules. Crowley also plays by the rules in the arrangement sometimes, respecting Aziraphale and the system, so that could be why it shows up on him sometimes. The new "ye saga continues" that Anathema burns at the end of s1 is cream, ie true but somewhat obscure as prophecies are wont to be.

The first time we see white is in the opening montage, where it's the color of the correct statements. That would appear to be truth, but it's god's truth, and Adam certainly isn't in line with that. And that truth here is malleable, because Adam's truth isn't the world's truth, he can remake it as he wants. So this isn't so much "truth" or reality as it is playing by the rules: what god says is true, but god can also lie, and those correct statements are backed with black. If white is playing by the rules, then black is lawlessness and deceit, so god's lying. This is why angels used to be white, and why Azi was white as an angel but in modern times is gaining light brown as his waistcoat wears out: he's gaining not "clarity" or truth but choice, freewill as he develops his own beliefs. This would explain why it's Adam's core, and why Azi gets a whole shirt of it which allows him to make a different choice than everyone else in heaven, who only get helmets and earpieces of white aka it's pounded into their heads: everything Azi does while in heaven is playing by the rules, the Metatron said he could finish what he was doing and that's what he's claiming to do.

Interestingly, the lightning used by both heaven and hell is white. White tends to be associated with heaven, but it's not exclusive. Pollution is smokey/champagne, so white can't be truth--but pollution is playing by the rules, as they themselves say. White can be truth, a filter, to remove deceit, but it's not strictly truth.

This is part of the parody: white is usually truth, but here it's a twisted version of "being in the light" that makes god look like a double dealing salesman.

Black: deceit, duplicity

Opposite to white, it's deceit, as when Aziraphale wears black to do his magic act: all the rules are out the window, nothing is as it seems. It's associated with hell, but not solely satanic, cf the angels' suits again. This also means that Satan and Beez were hiding things all the way back from s1.

Interestingly, the Ritz is white marble with tan/cream fabric. Sleeve on the dealer in the baby swap card game. The opening montage shades between navy and black for the color of "space": god's lying.

Silver is between black and white, and it depends on context: the angels lose their white robes over time, which matters because they are moving away from strict rule abiding to double talking for many of them to get away with things they shouldn't--or possibly so the system doesn't catch their disapproval of it. This is shades of gray used in a negative way as opposed to the way Crowley and Aziraphale use "shades of gray" to do things better. Same reason why Crowley's wings as an angel started darkening in before the beginning when he found out his stars were going to be destroyed, because he was going to do whatever it took to save them, rules and authority be damned. Here is where the parody of traditional apocalypse fiction comes in: black is traditionally bad, but here it's not necessarily because you can use deceit to do good when in a corrupt system, as Crowley and Aziraphale do, and using it to do bad is negative. Puts Satan's black in a whole new light, eh?

The difference between playing by the book and outright deceit is whether what you're doing is acceptable: Adam's "you are not my father" took the latitude he was given, while the archangels gleefully move line markers and lie about it.

The silver chain Crowley loses in s2 represents hell's authority over him: hell is lawless as the sham trial Crowley got shows, but its denizens are expected to follow the rules. Silver chain of hell, silver suits for heaven: not so different after all.

Blue: life/death

This doesn't mean heaven. I think people got this idea because of the light blue blanket in the baby swap alongside the white and red one that people took to mean hell, but that's not what that means: red doesn't mean hell; only one of the two babies is Jesus, and we don't know which one yet.

The first blue we see is the navy on the TV screen in the opening scene, I think space might be navy and obviously the earth's blue water that shows up thrice. A large neon blue and black eye as god tells us the fossilized dinosaurs are a joke the scientists haven't caught on to yet. Black means deceit, so god's lying about the dinosaurs. The libra symbol is white and light blue. Water in the middle of Eden is dark blue and possibly dark green, the sky is light blue. Jesus in s2 is shown with a neon blue sash.

Light blue is life, dark blue is death.

Leaving Eden was leaving death to seek life: leaving dark blue water to enter light blue sky and sand.

Warlock and Mr Dowling wear light blue shirts, Adam has a faded blue jean jacket. Light blue and white lights on the ambulance that brings the Dowlings to the hospital. Aziraphale wears a light bluegreen shirt, but often it does appear white or light blue. Water in the park, where the ineffables know they're being watched, is actually dark green, not blue. Some of the accessories of the people where War gets her sword delivery are navy, including light blue bulletproof vests, who all die. Outside of the coffee shop is dark blue with a light blue awning and patio fence in s1: life, death and liberty are intertwined, but we never go in to get any liberty ie coffee.

The first time we see the Ritz as they discuss the apocalypse in s1e1, there's a light blue set of windows and a white chandelier framed in the center between the ineffables: life is restricted by the rules, keeping them apart. Aziraphale's tie is light blue and white as the gardener. Light blue lights in Warlock's room, plus a light blue globe. Dark blue water on globe in heaven: heaven is death. The clothing shop next to the bookshop is dark blue. S1e2 starts in the light blue sky with white clouds and dark blue river: life by the rules inevitably leads to death. Light blue pool at Anathema's house and she's in a light blue dress. Newt's car is neon blue. Dark blue recycle bin at Newt's work, the witchfinder ad is circled in dark blue.

Tracey's bra is bright neon blue under a neon orange slip.

The other boys in Them have blue jeans, and Pepper has blue overalls. Adam has one outfit and two/three coats; one is blue, one is the green/blue shown above. Bright blue paint on Aziraphale at the paintball mansion, and light blue paint used by the yellow team, who are wearing white and one of whom has pearls on.

Light blue shirt on the staff at the cafe after the paintball fight. When Aziraphale makes Tracy's scooter fly, the miracle power is light blue: perhaps Aziraphale has the power of life.

Youngs have light blue, some dark blue stripes, when they're in bed. Adam has navy stripes with white on pjs. Light blue fractured lit windows around Azi's head when he finds Agnes's book in the car: the book has given him the ability to preserve life.

Blue in Azi's Shakespeare costume. Juliet, selling oranges, may have a blue costume? Single navy stripe in France's executioner's costume and the center of the flower decoration, which becomes Azi's costume. Beginning of 1941 memory tinted navy outside, so is inside the church, except the nazi space which is yellow. Crowley's dark blue 1941 shirt in both seasons. Adam's aura is yellow outside, then green/blue, red, white. The couple on the bench have a blue aura. Witchfinder manual is blue. Blue and white curtain behind Arthur Young as Adam reads witch magazine. Bandstand top is faded blue. Delivery man's bedsheets are faded blue. Witchfinder candle is light blue. The lights in the electrons Crowley runs through with Hastur are red, light blue, white, and gold. Blue ribbons on Beez s1, navy and light blue.

Neon blue is the last color in the memory tunnel Gabriel experiences getting his memories back, and blue is the tint of the graveyard scene in the last memory he meets Beez to look at his statue.

Gold: god's presence/watching

Gold is not yellow. I am not sure if brass is meant to be gold. I think the antenna on Beez's s1 hat may be copper/rose gold? Dark gold? Not sure. Could be glitter orange.

The first gold we see is a the 14 billion number as the age of the earth, gold shading to white. Then a gravity drawing around the planets to the sun, there are planets in gold, cards, and dealer's hands as god explains her game is like a dealer in a dark room. The libra earth horoscope is gold. Crowley's snake eye appears to be light gold--the show can do yellow, it would look yellow if that's what they meant. Dark gold/brown lion that tries to kill Adam and Eve.

This was extremely difficult to figure out, but I am pretty sure it's god's presence. I don't think there is a "dark" meaning for gold (though gold can be combined with other colors), because there is brass on the witchfinders that burn Agnes, and Agnes's daughter and husband are surrounded by what appears to be a lot of brass instruments. I don't think that scene would make sense if brass meant god's absence or disapproval. Brass could mean dark yellow though, or yellow and black, in which case that scene belongs to another color and not here. I also don't think gold denotes god's approval.

There are what seem to be gold chandeliers in the satanic hospital as they discuss the instructions for the baby swap.

The decoration on some of the angels' faces, and their rings. But when they're threatening Aziraphale in s1, they no longer have the face paint--does this mean the angels know what the paint does, or does the paint move on its own? This absence is why I think missing gold where it ought to be may mean "not ordained", because traditionally people would claim things like that in god's name. Sandalphon may still have the silver upper tooth decoration but he does not have the gold bottom ones in that scene. Michael has the gold when presenting the earth files on Crowley and when tattling to hell. The angels also cover their rings a lot--given they're in silver suits, this would fit a "hiding from god's sight" type of thing. The gold on their faces does not come back until they try to execute the ineffables, both Uriel and Micheal have it again.

I'm not sure if Michael has silver and orange or gold and orange paint the first time we see them in s1e1. I can't tell if there's gold or silver when they present the earth observation files. Given how obviously gold the gold on Uriel is, I think it's likely silver.

This would make sense why there is more gold in the s2 Job flashback: god is nosing in to see what happens with Job. Perhaps the robes change by will of god, they aren't something the angels choose to change, ditto the face paint.

Tracey's room is decorated in a lot of gold. Crowley's thrones and some other furniture. Edges of angel clothing before modern times. Aziraphale's desk chair. Number 4 delivery room, the Dowlings', in the satanic hospital was glowing gold or maybe yellow/orange, ditto #3 room. Cuff of the dealer in baby swap card game. Some decorative edging on the marble walls at the Ritz. Decoration on the sheathe of War's sword. Decoration on Agnes's book and gilt edging on pages. The color of the miracle dust when Crowley checks if it worked. Gold items on Aziraphale's desk and throughout the shop, the ring on Nanny's umbrella. Aziraphale's fob watch on his waistcoat, his waistcoat during his magic act in s1, and the merry go round at Warlock's bday in s1. Pepper's crown she's holding when the hellhound shows up. Aziraphale's mail slot on the shop. Brass buttons on Adultery Pulsifer and his "assistant"? Several medals on Shadwell's coat when we meet him preaching on the street. Gold on the edge of the red witchfinder patch.

All the prophecies in gold lettering on the screen as Azi reads them. Holy bible title in gold letter above the cocoa that doth grow cold. Buttons on the sleeve cuff of the sweater Azi wears to read Agnes's book.

Gold chain in the bartender's hair in Rome, her gold shoulder accessories, Azi's too. Gold on the columns at the Globe, in Shakespeare's costume, and on Hamlet's: god's watching Shakespeare. Gold on the top of Crowley's cane in 1862. Candle holders on left side in nazi church are gold. Gold closures on the bookbag Crowley saves. Gold rims on Crowley's 1967 glasses. Gold around the striptease sign. Gold ring visible as Azi calls Shadwell, and Shadwell's shoulder emblem is gold. Famine's companion is dressed in gold bolero, thick gold chain in diner scene and tons of gold accessories. Atlantean people have tons of gold. Gold street performer statue in the park. The lights in the electrons Crowley runs through with Hastur are red, blue, white, and gold. Newt's socks are red and gold during armageddon, gold shirt. Mostly gold/red credenza blocking off Azi's desk during Metatron summoning, gold candle holders. Gold all around Metatron head in s1, and Shadwell uses gold key to pick bookshop lock. Gold on the heavenly quartermaster and soldiers.

God's been around a lot of Crowley and Azi's dates. Really fascinated with the strippers too, though that's biblical.

Green: god's game/ineffable plan

NOT HELL, not evil. In s2 green is all over hell like a toxic gas. But in s1, green is not in hell except to tint hell's escalator. I don't think it's supposed to mean "just hell" in s2 either.

The first large "green" thing in s1 is the dark green chalkboards with the dates on them, and then a huge black and neon green CORRECT stamp in the montage talking about James Ussher's theories on the creation of the universe. This green is a neon version of the green we see in s2 hell and on s1 hell's escalator. Then we have a large dinosaur arm in the same "hell" neon shot with black, just as god is telling us about the dinosaurs being a joke people haven't understood yet. Black is deceit, so god is lying about the dinosaurs. We are already playing her game.

This is followed by a bunch of decorative looking things, astrology and writing of various greens, the giant eye starts out that neon green before going navy, along with dark green poker chips and neon green math. As in, a game. The s1 intro is almost completely hell green, and specifically there's a dark green street sign. One person in the Jesus scene has some dark green on. In the dealer's baby swap game, the third child isn't blue, he's dark green: this is the baby with the light blue blanket, Warlock. Satan's game is the baby swap, that's what he planned; God's game is the dealer's card game, we know because there's gold on the dealer's cuff. The backdrop to Satan's card game in the baby swap is dark green, and both hospital beds have bright green blankets over white.

Eden is tons of greens that look dark from far away, and dark blue water. Adam and Eve's clothes are dark green. The Youngs' clothes are heavily if not always greens, as are their bedding--again, they aren't agents of chaos themselves. The hospital itself has dark green and white alternating walls. Water in the spy park is actually not blue but dark green.

The forest Adam plays in is green and brown, and there's lots of the parks shown in the show. Anathema's coats are dark green and black or green and purple, and her house is surrounded by bushes and trees, a lot of her clothes are dark green. Tracey's clothing is various greens. The head of the cane/umbrella Crowley uses as Nanny is bright green. Agnes's book is dark green and gold. Crowley's plants are dark green. Ennon's clothes are darker green, he turns into an orange gecko.

The green gas choking Soho during the demon attack in s2, and the lights turning the same green in the bookshop during the demon attack. When Beez disappears to tattle to Satan at the end of s1, the color of the pop smoke is bright green, the same color as hell green, and I would assume all demons have the same color. The angel phones glow the same green of s2 hell. The statue of liberty figure in the coffee shop in s2 is the same green--but Eden was green too so it can't be liberty or freedom, or chaos.

I think the Great Plan is something all the angels were told and was recorded/was written, but the ineffable plan is god's game, and that is what green represents. Change IS the game, so darker green is more change, like Agnes's book, like Adam and Eve's clothes.

These are not agents of god's will as they act independently. This means Agnes and her book was part of god's game; the baby swap was part of the plan and the game. Eden was both plan and game: will they take the apple; Adam and Eve became part of the game once they did.

In s2, the blue and dark green coffee shop whose coffee represents liberty has dark brown chairs outside, and blue and the green of hell inside. I think this can be interpreted as this is a piece of god's game, life and death are a choice within which is god's game, and discovering that leads to freedom.

If there is a plan and a game, then bright green is more "plan" than game. Darker is less part of the plan. That's why the the CORRECT stamp in the montage is neon, because you are supposed to know that's wrong, and why Nanny's cane is bright green and s1 demon pops are bright green, but Agnes's book is dark green. Demon pops in s1 are bright green, I think because the fall was planned, just as the baby swaps and births were planned. The pops change in s2 to purple, perhaps because everything we see is interfering with their own kind rather than humans.

Are the angel phones green because they connect to hell? I don't think so, because the phones must do things besides that. Every time the phones were used they were green, so at the least talking to hell generates change in heaven. I think they have the phones turn off by blowing on them so that they don't have to touch them, because touching would be "dirty" and contaminating--can't be having angels get infected with hell, can't have the angels directly touching "change".

Anathema's shirt is light blue checking in to the UK, her bike is aqua--the bike appears to match Azi's shirt. Aqua, I think, is blue plus green: life plus game aka gambling with life. Anathema and Azi are pieces in the game of life. In s2e1, Aziraphale is a shooting star that's blue, and they're on a background of black and dark green. God's been gaming since, well, always. I think Azi's blue shooting star also means he was the one who made people, and perhaps the earth.

Orange: agent of god/god's will

The first orange we see is, I think, in the opening montage on some of the monks who got the dates of the creation of the earth wrong--they're in a ROYG rainbow. Then on James Ussher's clothing, the guy who got the creation of the earth slightly wrong, who is red, black and light orange (shades from gold to orange, I think) with a roman numeral clock behind him, various oranges. Dealer hands go from gold to orange as god explains her game.

Sash on Beelzebub in s1. Shakespeare's columns are red/orange. Tracey's hair/clothing is bright orange and Crowley's snake belly is dark, his hair looks dark orange too in s1. The fire Agnes Nutter burned in, and the candle flame in her house. Maude's shirt, the wife of the delivery man of the four horsemen. Holy fire on Aziraphale's sword, hellfire, fire that announces demonic arrival. Number 3 delivery room, the Youngs', glowed orange on fire, but it may have yellow/gold in it too. Job's and Jemimah's clothes, columns in his house, most of the color of the TV show that Hastur and Ligur take over to talk to Crowley. The record shop and accessories Maggie wears. The Jesus picture in Crowley's flat is entirely light orange and white. Juliet in the Shakespeare flashback is selling oranges. Orange and white cone in the paintball manor. Dark orange seat belts in the summoner's delivery truck.

Not all fire is orange. Some is yellow or white.

Originally I had this as god's presence, but I think gold fits more with that. This one thus is agents of god--god isn't there, but these are acting out god's will.

Crowley's hair throughout time:

Bright orange: BTB, Job, Tracey, Edinburgh, 1967

Dark orange: s1 present, 2008, nanny, noah?, jesus, rome, shakespeare, paris is brown?, 1862,

dark red: 1941, s2,

I think bright orange is agents for positive change, and dark orange are agents of "negatives". Crowley may not do much negatives himself, but Beez has that dark orange sash. Negative can also mean "throw a wrench in the works" like stopping the apocalypse.

Jemimah has orange clothes and becomes a neon blue gecko.

Red: passion

I think brighter reds are negative, and darker is positive/love. I think pink is fake negative, fake threat: we see it on Mrs Sandwich and in Tracey's bedroom.

Dark red bookshop, dark red backing on the thundergun: Azi loves his shop and Shadwell loves hunting witches. Tracey's apartment is dark red with aqua in the outer room: she helps people, and helps Shadwell a lot, and has knowledge of god's plan.

The big black and neon red "incorrect" stamp in the montage as god says some creationists are wrong, and the black and red "WARning": fake warning, god's lying about the dates, and god feels angry about it. Telephone Crowley calls from to tell Az about apocalypse: fear and anger. Shakespeare in dark red and gold outfit: god's in the audience, he loves his work and so does god. I'm not actually sure if Satan himself is dark red or bright red, he appears to be both, which is fascinating. Several buses shown are bright red while the ineffables are working out how to find the lost antichrist. There are several more buses when Crowley's racing to the bookshop after Aziraphale drops the phone when Shadwell breaks in, and more bright red firetrucks at the shop while it's on fire. Crowley's table he uses to plan running away is dark red; he loves his stars. Pepper's shoes are bright red and her raincoat is dark red: she's got anger but mostly motivated by love. Anathema's pencil when she's hunting for Adam is bright red, she's frustrated. The voicemail counter on Crowley's player that traps Hastur is red, as is the holy water bucket.

The apple in Eden is both bright and dark red, topped with yellow: love isn't possible without anger and fear, and in fact the point of the tree wasn't damnation but a test since it's covered in dark green and dark brown too? Shax's dress is dark red, as is her battle corset: she loves her job, and possibly Crowley too. It's the color of the bottom of the antichrist's baby basket and blanket; the baby itself can't really be passion or devotion, but it does inspire fear and it's a threat. Adam wears a red/brown/white checked coat during the witch hunting game, and has a dark red popsicle later. his eyes turn a core of bright red, ringed in dark red, edged in black: his intentions are to fix the world, but he's doing it through destruction and anger.

Crowley also gets contacts through his car radio, which is bright red.

Crowley's hair in s2 is also dark red. In 1941, his hair is also dark red.

Tracey's bedroom is pink, gold, and red; the flogger is pink and silver. I think this lines up with her "intimate relaxation for the discerning gentleman": she's a fake threat in the bedroom. And god's watching. Her slip as she thinks Newt wants an appointment is orange.

Red has some clear examples of other meanings than "passion": in s1 there's a large red drape of fabric in the Jesus scene, it also stands for blood, though technically war and negative emotion would tend to drag blood in with it; in s2 the tomatoes as Gabriel walks to the bookshop are both invoking the apocalypse (spilled blood) that Gabriel nixed and perhaps also the passion of Christ, as Jim is also a Christ figure.

Yellow: defiance

Not the same as gold. This has been proposed to be fear, which does fit a lot of the appearances of yellow, but then Gabriel lights his own statue with yellow light in s2e6 and the bar he meets Beez in right after is bright yellow. I don't think they're fearful there.

The first time we see yellow is the opening montage, in the text shot with black addressed to kids to not attempt armageddon at home. Which we see the Adam doing. As god says if the universe "didn't just start, unofficially", and we see a red explosion with yellow in the middle. The people claiming it's 14B are shaded in bright yellow, as is the incorrect age of the earth. One of the parade of rainbow wrong monks is yellow. Lots of the latter montage comes out of the yellow sun. Adam and Eve leave Eden into the light yellow sun: more evidence that the apple business wasn't exactly a sin, so where did the angels and heaven get that idea? Did god tell them a lie as she lied to us all through the opening montage? Light yellow lights in sushi place: eating as an angel is frowned upon but not massively disapproved of.

Aziraphale's hair is sometimes blonde, and it seems to do that when he's under stress--both the good and bad kinds, which fits with defiance as that would cause him stress. Job's basement is dirty yellow walls: deceit plus defiance at their orders. Crowley's eyes are yellow, except his snake eyes which seem more gold. The back room of the bookshop is a bright yellow, but most of the front shop is a dark yellow or brown, I think? A lot of the sores on hell's denizens are light yellow. I think brass counts for yellow, it's dark yellow, or maybe it belongs with gold. Perhaps the confusion is deliberate. One of the paintball teams is denoted by yellow flags, and we know that scene is meant to be an echo of the war in heaven (obviously I don't agree with the color analysis in there). The yellow team uses blue paint, the red team uses red paint.

The bentley's headlights when they hit Anathema are yellow: neither of them are supposed to help her because she's working against armageddon. Az's halo is yellow and white when he throws it.

Saturated yellow is defiance, and faded/lighter shades are less so. That lighter shades are more white is deliberate: white is playing by the rules, conformity.

Thaddeus Dowling isn't with his wife while she's giving birth, and his video screen is framed with the yellow and red of the ambulance: he's defying her demands to be there, and it's painted as being out of fear or anger. She is in super dark red jacket over a peach dress, with a bright orange object above her head and pearls on her neck: she's in love and the ambulance is god's rep on earth, but all colors paint her baby as Jesus, wrapped in the white blanket of playing by the rules.

Purple: power

Gabriel's tie, which he does not have during s1e6 armageddon, and the purple color of his eyes which he loses for most of s2. Interestingly, his tie gets super purple in heaven and more dull on earth; I think his eyes do too but that's harder to see. See this post for analysis of Gabriel's eyes, which mean omnipresence, the "power of sight".

Very purple tie when we see him on earth in s1e2, as he flexes his position over Aziraphale. The color of the miracle plume in s2, the color of angelic dust left behind when they pop away as when Gabriel leaves to tattle to Satan after the notapocalypse, and in s2 the color of everyone's arrival and departure pop dust. RP Tyler's weenie has a dark purple aura. Famine's companion has a lavender air bubble appetizer in the fancy restaurant that is framed as snobbery. One of Anathema's coats is purple and green. There are purple math equations in the opening narration: science is explicitly framed by god as humans thinking they know better, when really god is lying and science is the path to learning and mastering god's game.

It's the color of the words "miracle blocker" and a splash of color from it when Furfur engages the card. Keziah's clothes are purple, maroon, and gold, and she becomes a dark brown or yellow gecko with black spots.

This is power. More saturated/neon shades are more power; duller or lighter shades are less power. Where the purple is can denote what kind of power, as with Gabriel's eyes.

The reason only an archangel could have made that plume in s2 is because they're the ones with that level of power. What color were miracles for everyone else? In s1, Azirahpale's were blue. Though if everyone now has purple pop dust, and that's retroactive through history, could anyone do it? Does everyone have archangel power now after Adam's reboot? If so, why was the dust Crowley poked gold?

#good omens #color analysis

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ithseem · 2 years ago

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this may be a bit long!

[matchup exchange for: OBEY ME]

✦ prominent personality traits: passionate (inwards, only express when some small thing im actually interested in comes up), levelheaded, contemplative (outwardly), opinionated, honest (heart on my sleeve). realistic but optimistic about it. individualistic. i am an ambivert. sometimes my mouth runs and i trip up over what i was going to say, and i’m blunt. sx/sp, not easily impressed. im a big person on wanting improvement and having ambition (mostly for myself, but i will encourage others). people think im funny so im happy about that :] i am amiable. im the type who’s better at finding solutions rather than comfort, but i certainly try the most i can for others. for bad traits, i have a hard time empathizing with people sometimes, and i’m somewhat pushy.

✦ looks fair skin, mid-length black hair, wispy middle part. i’m pretty lanky, with a beauty mark near the corner of my left eye. light academia type of dress, with hair clips. look more cute-sque.

✦ hobbies/talents: i like to read and write and listen to music and taking walks and drawing. i'm really good at explaining things in a very cohesive manner. my logic is really good, so my persuasion is extremely good too. im very efficient and creative, which i apply to many things in real life. i also have very good intuition.

thank you for this matchup exchange! dont worry, i’ll write lots for your oc too!

It seems tome you've captured the heart of...

The Prince of the Devildom

Diavolo!

On the surface level, he can respect your calm and level-headed nature. Once he gets to know you, he just falls in love with you harder. It's no secret that Diavolo is a good judge of character, and he grows to love and appreciate very facet of you.

One thing Diavolo especially likes about you is your honesty. The way your eyes light up when you speak is a sight he'll never tire of. He loves to listen about your thoughts on the subjects you're passionate about. He doesn't mind you running your tongue and stumbling over your words. In fact, this is a quirk of yours he's grown to find endearing about you. He still likes your articulacy regardless. Your logic is sound and your persuasive skills are a force to behold. You would make for a great ambassador for the Human Realm

He also likes your sense of humour so expect to joke around with him a lot.

As for your goal of self improvement, Diavolo cannot help but admire that. To quote something Leviathan (probably) said: "we stan character development." He may or may not find you to be an inspiration.

As for your bad traits, he'd be more than happy to help you manage those. He can be a bit pushy also, but he does work on that. He did learn to manage this part of himself so he can help you with this also. Empathizing with others might be something you need to work on as well. While Diavolo does appreciate solutions to his problems, he will oftentimes need a shoulder to cry on before he can tackle them.

Diavolo has a huge library full of books for you to read, as well as music records, many of which are cursed. But you are smart enough not to just touch these books or records all willy-nilly.

The Demon Lord's Castle has the best places to take walks, so he'd love to take strolls with you (of course, these walks are not limited to the castle), and Barbatos would prepare tea and snacks for you when you just want to relax

Diavolo also takes interest in your creative hobbies as well. If you ever gift him something you drew/wrote, he would be over the moon

Overall a very healthy and wholesome relationship with a lot of potential for emotional stimulation

#ithseem answers #obey me #obey me matchups #it's been a while since I played this so sorry if this is mid or ooc ;-;#i don't usually do this #not on this blog anyways #maybe i should do more fandoms for my side blog #i'm gonna make a poll for it #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo #diavolo swd #matchups

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imjustabeanie · 1 year ago

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Hello 🖤

I was hoping to get a Hazbin Hotel matchup please.

I'm bisexual and use she/pronouns so go wild lolol.

Personality wise I appear extremely reserved, but soon enough after a couple of conversations, I reveal my self to be quite boisterous. I'm always cracking (*almost* appropriate) jokes, and I am ALWAYS up for an adventure.

I like the buzz of cities, especially at night, and enjoy eating sushi and wearing perfume.

I am a big reader and particularly enjoy period novels (almost as much as I love rewatching the same 5 shows on repeat).

But my main passion...is musical theatre! I can act, sing and dance and I'm working hard in training to have a shot in the industry.

When it comes to dating, I don't really have a type I go for. It's more about the chemistry I have with someone and how easily we can bounce conversation back and forth.

I suppose then I like people with a bit of wit. Who have a sharpness that they know if and when to use.

I hope that's all the information you need. Thank you for reading my request 🖤

Hey hey hey! Here's your match!

Your hazbin hotel match is....Charlie Morningstar!

Okay so for you it was rather tough cuz you’d get along with many characters as we could try different chemistries and it’d still work. But I finally settled down for good old Charlie Morningstar. You do have as runner ups Rosie (unfortunately, the show didn’t develop her well enough for me to analyse her more deeply cuz she’s in a near equal position to Charlie), Vaggie and (if we omit his sexuality) Angel Dust. The last one would totally be a bff in that world lol.

Charlie is a very passionate person. She believes that everyone deserves a second chance and has a very positive outlook on life in general. Your reserved exterior won’t bother her at all as she’ll actively try to befriend you! And once you reveal your more extraverted self she’ll consider it as a huge victory lol. I believe that Charlie would be the one to ask you out first, she will do it in a song trust me (and it won’t cosk 50k).

You two are a very adventurous couple cuz you encourage each other. She wants to go to the most dangerous parts of hell to promote her hotel? Sure! You want to go to a play taking place in another circle but you two have things to do the next day in early morning? Hop on baby there’s no time to waste. Vaggie is losing it with you two.

Charlie completely understands your jokes and let out a giggle every time you make one even if it’s really borderline to the shock of Angel Dust and Vaggie. She is also rather sharp, she just hides it. But if you hurt someone she loves then she’ll go all out.

Dates nights every night she can, she either takes you out to a restaurant, entertainment or just makes something at the hotel for both of you to unwind and gossip together. As we saw in the show, Charlie tells everything to her lover so it’s definitely the case here. Your opinion matters a lot to her. But she also values honesty a lot so if you take time to open up warn her so she won’t be hurt.

I also see her to be the type to hyperfixate on something for a while (which means also rewatching her favorite episodes and re reading her favorite chapters). Due to her age, Charlie definitely is a big reader, it’s just that she has less time with the hotel. If you start rambling about the books you’re reading you can almost see the hearts in her eyes.

Charlie is your number one cheerleader in your interest at dancing, singing and acting. You two always sing together and believe it or not she won’t hesitate to use her position to help boost you because she really believes in you. Yeah you two are such a sight to behold.

I hope you like it!

#matchups #match ups #hazbin hotel

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eclvpses · 1 year ago

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introducing; geordi quinn massacre

welcome to marina, GEORDI QUINN MASSACRE ( cis man, he/him ) ! they are a THIRTY-ONE year old WITCH who resides in HYLAND PARK. They work as a MUSIC TEACHER at MARINA HIGH SCHOOL and are said to look a lot like HENRY ZAGA. People around the island find them to be +SANGUINE and +CONSCIENTIOUS, but also -HIGH-STRUNG and -COWARDLY. what do you think?

stats.

name: geordi quinn waldo massacre.

supernatural relation: cradle witch from his father's bloodline.

sexuality: gay.

birthday: march 11.

star sign: pisces.

myer-briggs: isfp.

occupation: music teacher at marina high school.

place of birth: marina island.

last played on spotify: unknown / nth by hozier.

general disposition: nurturing and anxious.

background.

geordi was born to an up-and-coming rock star / legend, and his number one groupie at the time

his mum was only 15 when he was born, she still had a whole childhood she wanted to live, and of course his dad didn’t stick around to do any parenting - he was already having multiple other children with multiple other women - so it resulted in geordi raising his mum more than the other way around

by the time he was a teenager his dad was firmly out of his life, his band finally taking off and leaving behind all the families he’d created and destroyed in the blink of an eye to do world tours

the best thing he ever got from his dad was his little sister olive, her own mum and geordi’s close friends that bonded over their hatred for the man that uprooted their lives without even hesitating or caring

growing up already used to taking care of his mum, geordi didn’t hesitate to help raise his sister too, who he still considers his best friend and is fiercely protective of even tho now she’s more his guardian angel than the other way around (she’s sm cooler and he’s just a loser with anxiety problems)

geordi realized he was a witch at a young age, it became sort of obvious when things around him began to set on fire at the slightest increase of any emotion, but it definitely came as a surprise considering his mum is 100% human with no magic whatsoever, so lo and behold his dad cursed him with something else

he never really gained control over his abilities and therefore gets nervous ever using them

just wanted a normal life for himself - the only similarity geordi would admit to having with his dad was their love, passion, and natural gift towards music, so he took this talent and ran, a music teacher now at one of marina’s public schools

most of geordi’s life was as mundane as it could be and he loved it, until his fiancé lark woke him one night in hysterics, a headache so bad he struggled to speak, walk, basically exist -

a simple slip at work that no one thought anything of had led to a burst aneurysm, he was gone before doctors could even diagnose the issue

geordi waited weeks, but lark never returned to him as a ghost the way he’d hoped, so in a fit of desperation, he turned to his sister and begged her to help him bring lark back - of course olive helped, and while for a week or two at best it seemed like the reanimation spell worked, the malevolence some ghosts possess began to manifest in lark and then some, until he became actively violent, attacking geordi in their home and begging to be put to rest again

geordi doesn’t talk about that particular incident (that took place around two years ago) and he doesn’t talk about lark anymore, and he especially refuses to touch on his magic - probably ever again

details.

he doesn’t actually believe in nicknames, when he introduces himself he says his name’s geordi quinn and will pull a face when people call him geordi, gq, etc. but mostly grin and bears it

his students call him mr. massy, kind of hates the association his last name gives him with his dad and frankly doesn’t particularly think it. appropriate for his students to go around saying Massacre 24/7

he’s developed a barbarically keen sense of mind-reading from growing up and talking to olive in their heads, sometimes a flash of someone’s inner thoughts will go through his mind and he hates it but it’s uncontrollable

just. an awkward anxious fool LKSDHGKLHSDGHSDGLKH he means well but he never rly got to be a kid and had a life of tragedy, he just doesn’t know how to relax rly

there’s been hook up and dating attempts since lark, but he wasn’t much of a Hook Ups person before his fiancé and he is Far from it now, and dating just hurts a bit bless his heart

so grossly loving and nurturing its definitely got him hurt in the past, putting all his attention and trust into people who didnt deserve it / didn’t reciprocate but it hasn’t stopped him from doling out all his kindness

a loser pathetic pushover frankly</3

connections.

he’s lived in marina his whole life so friends!!! childhood friends, teacher friends, just friends from any walk of life rly i need it all

exes from before lark perhaps/first love situation??

friends of olive’s he sees as siblings / family too :)

awkward hook up attempts as of recent or in the past…….

also dates. he’s tried to go on n it failed OR

dates that went well n he got anxious about feeling something?? :eyes:

ppl who know of his dad, this connection cld go anywhere rly but some juicy ideas could come from his painfully loserish lame ass dad n screwing over more ppl in town etc.

i’d love to see lark’s family?? we can talk over whether geordi is still close w them or if their relationship is more strained after lark’s passing</3

anything else that anyone wants :D

#marina:intro #anxiety tw #death tw #grief tw #violence tw #an actual proper intro fr my new bebe :D

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maxanite · 4 years ago

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Watching tubbo sing his new song about the stress of his career and life but still trying to keep optimistic and trying to relax while sitting in his pajamas at midnight isn’t something I thought would comfort me and make me emotional, but here we are.

#emotional rant in the tags #tubbo is just such an amazing and talented creator #his passion and love for music is just something to behold #and even when he’s just keysmashing and messing around #his fingers just so naturally find cords that make him happy #it’s so nice to just sit and be a part of #his new song sound amazing as well #it’s not even out and it’s stuck in my head #tubbo is so fuckin cool man #LOOKIT HIM GO!!!#then he talks about dick while singing radioactive #my streamer has the range #!!!#max talks

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trippygalaxy · 2 years ago

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any link of your choice, with a gn!reader who plays whatever the medieval equivalent of a guitar is.

Ahh!! Thank you for being my first request! I hope you enjoy this!

(Also just for next time, please tell me what type of relationship you'd like! I tired to keep it platonic but it can also be read as romantic!)

Warriors

Every since you were young, you always had a fascination with the lute. It felt right to hold on in your hands, as if your arms were made to cradle it's weight.

From this love was born a new hobby, a new past time. But it didn't stop at that, this wasn't just a hobby but a passion! A passion that made your fingers bleed, but a passion none the less.

Plucking it's strings brought you a different kind of peace. And as years pasted by your talent caught the attention of many.

You had met the Chain many months ago. Once a wandering musician, now a member of a group of adventurers! Surprisingly, you manage to easily find a spot in the group as the guide in this new world they fell (quite literally) into.

Yet, there was a certain Captain who had grown a little more attached to you than most had realized. Warriors was enthralled by you. Not only did he find you absolutely striking but also passionate and kind.

He had watched you joke with the rest of the boys, how you naturally bounce off them without a hint of hesitancy. How you indulge when the others *cough* Wind *cough* made strange song requests while the group travelled

Warriors was quick to call you the party's bard! It came from a place of truth but also teasing. He'd even suggest you'd make a balled for the Chain and yourself! (You still couldn't tell if he was joking or not) But it wasn't uncommon for you to play something light hearted whilst the Chain rested. You'd even sing songs the told the stories of the Heroes of Hyrule! It was very fun to have to boys guess what song was who's!

As time pasted, Warriors realized that you boosted the moral of the group so much more than he ever expected. But how couldn't you! You held such an energy with you while you preformed that it could even bring Legend out of his cranky moods! "A true feat in itself!" Warriors told you once

(and then got a boot flung at the back of his head)

One night while you had taken watch, Warriors had woken up in a frantic state. It didn't take a genius to tell he had woken up from a nightmare of sorts.

The stubborn Captain was quick to reassure you that he was alright but his uneven breaths and shaky hands told another story. So, without a second thought you plopped down beside the man and pulled out your trusty lute.

At first Warriors is confused to what you are doing and he is about to verbalized this confusion but is quickly cut off by a familiar song. It was a song from his Hyrule, it had echoed throughout the castle halls while they visited his Zelda to gather information. He remembers he had told you his fondness for the song..

And here you were, strumming that same song months later. Your fingers elegantly danced along the strings keeping the song above a whisper as to not disturb the others. Warriors huffed out a laugh and slumped against you, a small but beautiful smile gracing his lips.

Had you remember the song simply because he enjoyed it? Did you scour the local music shops for the music sheet? Or where you simply THAT talented that you learnt it by listening to it? He wouldn't put the latter past you, you truly were something to behold.

(I literally rewrite this like three times because it kept getting away from me LMAOO! I hope you enjoyed this! I liked writing it!)

#linked universe #linked universe au #linked universe headcanons #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #linked universe warriors #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #tales out of orbit

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vintagepresley · 2 years ago

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Oh my gawd?! I have a brilliant request for you dear! Remember in the Elvis movie Elvis and his buddies are on the road and his mother calls him non-stop because she is worried about his safety from all the fangirls and he gets a visit from a mysterious woman at his door walks into his room where the music Craw-Fever begins and you know the rest 😏. Instead the role is reversed where the reader and her gal pals are having a road trip or a girl's night out including watching Elvis in concert. The reader and her overprotective mother had a conversation on the phone at a hotel saying to watch out for men to take advantage of ya since we are a virgin/beauty looking and knows what's best for us etc. And we know for the billionth time and telling her not to worry etc. We kind of feel lonesome confided in our room laying on the bed until we get a knock on the door and lord and behold Elvis Presley shows up with a smile walks in our room as we are so shocked along with feeling a trance at the same time as the music Craw-Fever plays!!! I imagine this with Austin Elvis 😍 and he did saw us at his concert thinking we are the most beautiful woman ever to lay eyes on knowing we are a virgin from our body language and will show the reader what real love feels like - passionate, sensual, fun, and wild telling us that we have nothing to fear as he is very gentleman and kindhearted- he does want us to be his bestest girl!!!!!

Craw-Fever

Having an overprotective mother was a blessing and curse at times for you especially because you felt so sheltered from the actual world at times. While all your friends were going on dates and dating guys, you were at home in your room listening to your favorite Elvis records daydreaming of him being your boyfriend. Just getting the chance to see him in concert would be a dream come true. You lived in the same part of Memphis the he did but only caught glimpses of him. He was traveling and playing all sorts of concerts within the south most notably the Louisiana Hayride. You wanted to go so bad that a few of yours friends talked about taking a small road trip down to Louisiana which you knew was going to take some convincing when it came to your mother. She was always so worried that something was going to happen to you and sometimes it felt as if she didn't trust you or your better judgement. But after speaking with your friends some more and pondering the idea and the fact that it was a once in a lifetime sort of thing, you decided to ask your mother while the two of you had dinner.

You nervously slipped out of your room as she called you down once the food was ready and you took inhaled softly and sharply exhaling as you got downstairs and waltzed into the kitchen sitting down at table and smiling as your mother prepared your plate and sat in front of you, once you were both sat the table you picked at your food a bit taking small bites as the question you wanted to ask her lingered through your mind that you couldn't bare to eat. "You aren't eating.. What's the matter, honey?" she asked sweetly. You picked at your food some more as you stared over at her and letting out a soft sigh. "I.. I have something I wanna ask you, mama." you mumbled. She furrowed her brow worriedly. "What is it?" she questioned. "A couple of my friends want to go down to Louisiana to see Elvis Presley.." you mumbled. "That boy who does all the wigglin'?" she interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Mhm.. They invited me.. I was hoping to go..." you whispered.

Her eyes widen at your words. "I don't know about that, Y/N. A bunch of young beautiful girls traveling to Louisiana by themselves?? It does not sound safe." she uttered. "Mama, please.. We will be safe. It's a whole group of us. I really want to go. I'll just die if I can't see Elvis!" you said dramatically. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "Stop with the dramatics. I don't know.. What do their parents say?" she asked. "They're fine with it because they trust them. Pleaaaaseeee. I never ask to go anywhere. Just this once, please?" you begged. She let out a soft sigh seeing how much this meant to you and as hesitate as she was about this whole thing she decided to let you have a bit of freedom. "Fine.. Okay, you can go. But there's going to be a few rules." she muttered. Your eyes widen at her words and you hopped out of you, giving her the tightest. "Thank you, thank you! Whatever the rules are I'll do!" you beamed. She laughed softly as she hugged you back and kissing your cheek. You settled back down in your seat and began to eat your food happily as she went over the few rules she had for you. Those rules being that she expected you to call her at each stop you made on the way there and also remembering to call her every night. Those rules seemed simple enough to follow so you agreed.

That night you excitedly called your friends up and told them the good news and then you got your suitcase packed double checking that you had everything because you were so overwhelmed with excitement that you thought you may forget something. It was a long night of tossing and turning because you couldn't sleep just the very thought of seeing Elvis, breathing the same air as Elvis had you completely over the moon. You eventually were able to fall asleep and the morning had come quick and despite only getting a few hours of sleep you sprang right out of bed and got yourself ready for the day knowing that your friends would be coming to pick you up shortly. It was humid day out Memphis and you could only imagine how it was in Louisiana. So you wore pair of black and white checkered shorts with a white blouse with a pair of white flats to match. Your friends pulled up in the car and the muffled sounds of he horn blowing got your attention and you glanced outside the window waving to them with a wide smile. You grabbed your suitcase and luged it downstairs with you. Your mother already standing by the door with a worried look on her face and already doubting her decision to let you go.

You smiled at her and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek as you hugged her tight. "Don't worry, mama. I'll be fine. I'll call you as soon as we stop" you whispered to her and giving her a tighter hug. She nodded and watched as you headed out of the house and throwing your things in the trunk of the car as you hopped in with your friends and waving to your mother with a wide smile. She waved back with the same worried look on her face just praying that her daughter would be okay. You felt a sense of freedom as you went on this mini road trip with your friends knowing that this was probably very hard for your mother to do and so you wanted to be as cautious and safe so she didn't need to worry. The trip was going smoothly as you and your friends laughed and sang Elvis songs together and once you made your first stop to get gas you used the pay phone to call your mother and to let her know how the trip was going so far and how long you had to go. As the trip continued on and you made a few more stops for gas and snacks you called her and you could tell she sounded a bit more relieved knowing that you were okay.

You finally got to your desired destination that evening and checking into your hotel and finding your rooms the moment you got inside you called your mother letting her know that you got there safe. After getting off the phone you began to unpack and the only thing on your mind was what you were going to wear for the concert tonight. You wanted something that would catch Elvis' eye but you knew it was a long shot for him to even notice you in a sea of girls, but you had high hopes it was everything you ever dreamed of. You decided on a pink checkered dress with small buttons that went down along the middle of the dress and spaghetti straps. Once you had showered and did your hair and makeup you slipped on the dress and soothing it out along your curves that it hugged so well and then paired with some heels. You grabbed your purse and headed out of your room to check and see if your friends were ready. You quite relieved when they were wanting to get close enough seats at the show. You all excited drove to where the Hayride was being held and bought your tickets for the show and hurried into the auditorium getting a few seats right at the front.

Your heart was racing and your cheeks felt flushed as you exhaled softly at the anticipation of Elvis. They had started having him perform last because of how the chaos in the crowd he caused and so the other acts before him appeared dull and a bit boring to everyone because they mainly came here for Elvis. It was finally the moment of truth and back stage Elvis was a nervous wreck no matter how many times he's done this now he was always still so nervous and shaking like a leaf, he stepped out onto the stage and roar from the crowd was wild all the girls including yourself standing up to their feet as the screams went wild. You were shaken up and in shock and awe by the very sight of this beautiful man who came out dressed in a white suit with a black lace top, his leg was already shaking a mile a minute before he even started to sing but the moment that voice rang out it was madness. You were screaming and jumping up and down in place it was not like you to act so out of character, but he brought this out in people. You did your best to get his attention wanting him to see you, notice you, anything.

There was a moment when the two of you had locked eyes and a small smile formed on his lips at the sight of you but that lasted for just a second and that second meant the world to you. You didn't know it but that moment he saw you he fell in love. You couldn't stop smiling he was so handsome, more handsome than what he looked like in all the pictures you've seen. The way he moved and wiggled around the stage, the way he sang and grinned as if he had no idea what he was doing to all the girls in the crowd only made your crush on him deeper, the very sight of him had you in love and by the time the show was over you felt like you were in a trance, everything felt so surreal that on your way back to your hotel room you felt like you were on cloud 9. He smiled at you and that's the only thing you thought about. You let out a soft sigh as you got back into your room, changing into your nightgown as you got ready for bed and making sure to call your mother one last time before the night ended and you told her all about the concert and then when you both had said goodnight you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling feeling so confided in your room wishing that every night could be as fun as the one you had.

Elvis was winding down from the great show he just had but he didn't forget about you not for a second when the two of you had locked eyes, he was memorized by your beauty and he needed to know who you were, so he asked around about you describing you to everyone who might of seen you and finally coming across the person who sold you a ticket that had actually struck up a conversation with you and your friends and he told Elvis that you had come all the way from Memphis which that only made his face lit up knowing you were from the same place he was and when he found out where you were staying he wasted no time searching for you. When he got to the hotel he of course got recognized and he used that to his advantage a bit to find out what room you were staying in. He nervously looked for your room, fixing his hair and soothing out his suit and hoping that it wasn't weird of him to have asked around about you.

You continued to just lay in bed and the surreal feeling finally wearing off that you felt a bit sad now what you had really hoped for was that you could've met Elvis, but you were grateful nonetheless. You reached over to turn on the radio and tuning it a bit until you heard one of his songs playing on the radio a smile forming on your lips. Suddenly there was a light knock on the door and you furrowed your brow a bit wondering who that could be. You slipped out of bed and grabbed your robe, slipping it on as you went to answer the door and you cracked it open a bit, peering out of it. Your eyes widen at who it was and you opened the door wider now, completely stunned to see Elvis Presley himself darkening your doorway. "Oh my god.. I.. Your.. Is this real?" you asked nervously, confused at how Elvis even found you or let alone remembered you. He cleared his throat softly, letting out a soft chuckle. "I know this is a bit weird.. But I saw you at the show tonight and I-I couldn't stop thinking about you. Y'know when we had that moment together.." he smiled You blushed a bit knowing exactly what he was talking about but still in shock that he even remembered and that the moment you shared prompted him to come out searching for you.

You weren't sure what to say because you couldn't stop blushing. "It's not weird at all.. I remember the moment.." you said shyly. He grinned widely. "C-Can I come in?" he asked. You stared at him completely in a daze that this was actually happening and you snapped out of it, giggling softly. "Yes.. Of course.." you said softly, inviting him the radio humming softly in the background as you shut the door closed. He turned to face you and he was standing so close that you felt like you couldn't breath with how beautiful he looked, his hair was tussled and his eyes so blue that you felt like you could melt right there. "You were the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on, darlin'. Where have they been hidin' you in Memphis?" he said with a soft laugh. You felt your face heat up from how flustered you were, trying to cover your face with your hands, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he knew you were from Memphis. "You must of really been searching for me." you giggled. He began to blush now and he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Maybe a little.." he smirked. "Well, my mama doesn't really let me go out much. She's super protective. Just being able to come see you was a miracle." you laughed.

"I don't blame her. Pretty lil' thing like you, it's not safe out here." he said lowly with a curled up little grin as he reached over to brush his hand along your cheek. You closed up your robe a bit more as he moved closer and you backed up a bit, becoming more nervous and blushing like a school girl. He noticed your body language and he wasn't surprised that you probably never been alone with a guy before and he smiled warmly. "No need to be nervous with me, honey." he said softly. You chewed on your bottom lip as he towered over you and you stared up at him innocently as the two of you stood there in silence as your faces drew closer to one another until your lips hovered each other's and you swallowed harshly never even kissed a boy before, but he took the lead and placed a soft kiss to your lips and you were frozen in place and in your mind telling yourself this whole thing was a dream, there was no way Elvis was kissing you, but he kissed you once again which snapped you out of your racing mind which made the whole thing feel so real, kissing him back slowly, it felt like a dream come true kissing your first boy and that boy being Elvis Presley.

You felt his hands slip around your waist and he carefully and gently pulled you against him, but you pulled back a bit feeling like things were moving too fast for you. "Elvis.. I-I've never.. I don't do things like this.." you mumbled a bit embarrassed. He smiled at your words and he nodded slowly. "I know, honey.. I know, if you want me to stop I will." he whispered. You let out a soft sigh as your hands rested against his chest and you took a moment to think knowing that despite how nervous you were that a small part of you wanted to do this and wanted to give in to his desire. But another part of you was scared, nervous, and confused as to what this was and why it was happening. "I just.. I want to, but.. I don't want to give myself to someone if this is just one time thing and I'll never see you again.." you said hesitantly. He pulled back just a bit as he took your hands into his, he nodded understandingly. "I promise this is not that, baby. I know this is going to sound crazy, but that moment I saw you from that stage and we locked eyes.. I-I was in love. Just knowing you're from Memphis I feel like I know you already." he said softly as he intertwined your fingers with his. You were speechless, completely utterly speechless.

"Elvis.. Why me? There's nothing special about me.." you shrugged. He furrowed his brow at your words, shaking his head. "Are you kiddin'? Out of all the girls in the crowd you were the one that caught my eye, that nearly had me distracted and basically in love at first sight. You're beautiful and a good little girl, I can tell.. I'd do anything to make you my bestest girl.." he said with a wide smile forming on his lips, every word sincere. Your eyes nearly welled up with tears of joy and you couldn't help but think how crazy this all was but in that moment you felt so many deep crazy feelings for him. You squeezed his hands in yours as you exhaled sharply. "I want to... I want you.." you hummed. He pulled you right back into his embraced holding you against him as his lips traced against your cheek and pressing soft kisses to your face. "I promise you I'll be gentle and show you exactly what love feels like.. Passionate, sensual, fun, and wild. I won't hurt you, baby." he whispered into your ear.

You despite your nerves you believed his every word and you wanted nothing more for him to be the one to show you those things. You slipped your arms around his shoulders as you stood up on your tiptoes as you captured his lips in a deep kiss and he slipped your robe off from around you, letting it fall to the floor and he smiled at the sight of your nightgown. "So cute.." he mumbled as lifted you up from the ground just enough to carry you over to the bed with him a small squeal escaping your lips, this was everything you ever dreamed off to have a man sweep you off your feet and the moment he laid you down on the bed it felt like a scene out of a movie when suddenly the song 'Craw-Fever' started playing softly from the radio. You couldn't help but giggle at the wild coincidence as you slipped your arms around Elvis' torso and he raised an eyebrow at your giggle. "What?" he grinned. "Nothing..." you smiled and he leaned up to kiss him slowly, your legs parting as he moved himself between them. His lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck as one of his hands carefully ran along the curves of your body, feeling every inch of you as his hands caressed the gentle fabric of your nightgown.

You let out a soft gasp as you felt his hands all over you and his soft lips on your neck and the weight of his body on top you as you pulled him closer. He lips moved further down kissing over your collarbone and he reached up to slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders as he pressed soft kisses over both of them and he continued this cute little teasing of his, the more he tugged your nightgown down the more kisses he pressed against every inch, every curve of your body until he slipped the gown off and tossed it to the side and you laid there in just your panties bringing your arms up to cover yourself shyly. Elvis smiled at your shyness and he grabbed a hold of your arms slowly removing them as he shook his head. "I wanna see you.." he whispered. You took a deep breath and the thought of being naked in front of any man especially Elvis made you painfully shy, but with how sweat he was being and caring those feelings faded and you rested your arms back around him and his eyes wandered over your body with a wide smile. The soft sounds of the music playing so perfectly with this moment.

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed several kisses to it mumbling the words, "You're beautiful.. So beautiful." under his breath. You blushed at his words and you ran your hands up and down his chest and tracing your fingertips along the buttons of his black lace shirt and carefully unbuttoning each one until his shirt was wide open and you slowly slipped it off of him and it fell to the side and you ran your hands over his bare chest, tracing your fingers along his soft skin and he smiled as he leaned down and pressed gentle kisses against your chest and your arms slipped back around him, running your fingertips along his back. His lips tracing over your breasts and the moment he cupped them in his hands a gasped and captured your bottom lip between your teeth feeling his lips wrapping around one of your nipples and your nails dug a bit into his skin at the enticing feeling that came over your entire body, and a soft whimper escaped your lips as his and he sucked hungrily at your nipple and you tossed your head back against the pillow letting out another gasp as your eyes rolled shut at the intense feeling.

He grasped your other breast in his right hand as he pinched and tugged at the sensitive bud between his fingertips, the more he pleasured you the more you craved, yearned and desired him to be inside of you. It was a feeling you had never experienced before and now that feeling was burning inside of you that you could feel the liquid pooling between your legs that you could feel the mess it was making on your panties. Elvis slowly released your nipple from his mouth and he dragged his tongue across the other and playfully biting at it that it caused you to squirm beneath him and let out small whines and then he kissed along your breasts and made his way down your abdomen and the feeling of his lips on your stomach tickled that you couldn't help but giggle quietly and he glanced up at you with a smirk. You watched with curious eyes as his lips reached your panty line and he kissed along the hem of your little white panties.

The feeling satisfying in so many ways that he had your head spinning and the two of you were just getting started. He hooked his fingers beneath the delicate fabric and he slowly tugged your panties down that clung to your soaked pussy and when he caught a glimpse of the mess you had already made in your panties a sly smirk formed on his lips as he tucked them inside of pocket. He ran his hands along your thighs and he could feel you trembling in his light grasp. "It's okay, little one.. I'm going to be gentle with you.." he whispered. You so badly wanted to just cover up and hide because he was so close to the most private area of your body and the way he looked at you like he was ready to devour his very last meal made everything even more intense. He spread your legs open wider for him as his head moved further between your legs and he pressed light kisses against each of your thighs as he kissed his way up with excitement to the aching heat that only became more and more soaked by the minute for him and it became more visible the close he got.

You shivered at the very touch and as you inhaled sharply with anticipation and once he had finally reached the area he wanted the most he pressed loving kisses against it. He meant what he said that he would be gentle with you. Your hands reaching down as you tangled your hands into his soft raven colored hair, letting out a airy breath as your toes curled against the bed and you swallowed slowly. His tongue slipped between your sopping folds and your breathing hitched as a shaky gasped left you and you whimpered at the arousing feeling that washed over you as you felt his warm tongue buried deep between needy pussy and lapped up every bit of your sweet nectar. You tugged at his hair as your back arched and your head tilted back as you moaned out in ecstasy. His tongue circled around your swollen clit, flicking his tongue back and forth against it before wrapping his lips tight around the sensitive bud and he sucked greedily as if he had an insatiable hunger for you that he couldn't control and that only caused your moans to grow louder and your whimpers leaving you in a soft cry as your hands tugged hard at his hair.

He held onto your thighs as he wrapped your legs around his shoulders and he buried his face into your pussy the more he sucked, saliva gathering at the sides of his mouth as it dripped down your pussy and he felt your legs shaking around him as you tried your best not to squeeze them around him. "Oh god... Elvis..." you mewled. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, you had no idea what to expect from this but it was better than you could've imagined, the places he was taking you as he pleasured you and pushed you further into your bliss. He smirked at the sounds that escaped you and he brought one of his hands between your legs and he took two of his fingers and he dragged them between your slit and playing in your slick until you got his fingers coated in it along with his saliva. He released your clit from his mouth and lifted your head up and glanced down at him seeing your slick glistening across his face. "Just try to relax for me, baby.." he mumbled. You nodded slowly at his words so desperately needing more of him.

He placed a kiss against your right thigh with a smile as he teased his two fingers around your untouched virgin pussy, he slowly, carefully inched his two fingers into your tight hole and he felt you clench around him immediately and your body tensed up, he rubbed his other hand over your right thigh to try to relax. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, little one.." he hummed. You did your best to relax at his reassuring words feeling the pressure of his fingers trying to slide inside of you and once he was able to get you to relax again he continued to push his fingers further inside of you feeling you tighten around him. "Fuck.." he hummed. As he very slowly pumped his fingers inside of you, he wanted to get you ready for his cock and wanted to ease you into it. You pursed your lips together tight from sharp pain you felt and you grasped at the sheets beneath you clutching onto them tight. "Taking my fingers like such a good girl.." he whispered. His words of praise and the linger sounds of Craw-Fever playing in your head even as it had ended on the radio helped you to take your mind off of the stinging pain. You felt as his long fingers moved further inside of you until they were buried inside of you.

He pumped his fingers just a tad faster watching as his fingers moved in and out of you and each time that they did his fingers were completely covered in your slick making it easier for him to move his fingers in and out and soon you were moaning out once again the moans sounding like soft cries but you were enjoying every minute of it. He did his best to try to stretch you open enough for him with your fingers and when he felt that you were ready he carefully slipped his fingers out of you, smirking at the sight of his messy fingers as he took them into his mouth and sucked you off of them and he moved back up so that he was hovering about you once again and he kissed your lips. "You ready, baby?" he whispered on your lips. You took a deep breath and you nodded in response. "Yes, I-I am.." you said nervously, running your hands slowly along his sides. He kissed you once more planting a soft passionate kiss to your lips and he felt your hands move down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and then unbuttoning his pants.

You had no idea that he rarely wore underwear that when you tugged his pants down his hard cock came springing out and hitting right up against your thigh and you placed your hand over your mouth, giggling softly from the feeling. He chuckled at your reaction thinking it was the cutest thing and he removed his pants kicking them off to the side as he pressed right up against you, grinning as he combed his fingers through your hair. "I hope little Elvis didn't scare ya.." he chuckled. You laughed softly, shaking your head at him and a slight blush forming over your cheeks. "He didn't scare me at all.." you whispered. "Y'know and not to pressure you into anything.. I was wondering if you'd.. Maybe..." he didn't know how to ask and you raised an eyebrow. "What?" you questioned. "If you'd suck my cock a little.." he mumbled. "Oh.. I-I don't know how to do that.. Will you teach me?" you asked shyly, you didn't want to say no especially with him going down on you. He tried to hide his smile at your question. "Course I will, little.." he hummed.

He climbed off of you with a boyish grin and he sat beside you as he leaned up against the headboard and you turned over onto your stomach as you rested up against his thigh, your eyes widening at the sight of his large cock and licked over your lips as you stared up at him with your innocent doe eyes. He combed his fingers through your hair as he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his cock and you could feel him pulsing with your grasp and you hungered for him more wanting so badly to feel him inside of you. "Just stroke it a little and I'll guide you through the rest, baby." he muttered. You nodded and your hand slowly stroked his cock which caused a low groan to escape his lips at the very touch. You watched as the precum leaked from his swollen wet tip. "Put your lips around the tip, little.." he mumbled softly. You slowly moved closer to his cock and parted your lips just enough to wrap them around his aching tip the saltines of his precum gliding across your tongue. he

He choked back a loud groan as he began to quietly pant at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and he inahled deeply as he watched you so innocently sucking on the tip and staring up at him as you did. His hand tangling within your hair and the sounds of your sucking only furthered his arousal, he carefully pushed your head down just a bit further to take more of him into your pretty little mouth you didn't try to stop him seeing the pleasing expression on his face as you pleasure him, your hands grasped a bit tight onto his thigh as you bobbed your head slowly on his cock and sucking just a little faster just enough that some of your saliva that gathered in your mouth drooled down his cock and you moaned softly around his cock. "Goddamn.. You're doing so well, baby.." he praised as he clutched onto your hair. He titled his head back against the headboard of the bed as he groaned out louder and soft whimpers leaving him as his breathing grew heavier from the feeling of your mouth sucking harder and swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. "S-Shit.. Y-You're gonna make me cum.." he moaned.

When you heard his words you popped his cock out of your mouth, staring up at him as your saliva dripped down your chin. "I-I'm sorry.." you mumbled. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at you. "Oh darlin', that's a good thing. But I don't want ya making me cum just yet and I haven't gotten a chance to make love to ya." he grinned. You smiled widely at his words wiping your mouth clean with the back of your hand. "Lay down, honey." he mumbled. You nodded at his words and you turned back around to lay on your back and he moved to climb back on top of you the weight of his body on you was something you craved. He reached down to wrap his hand around his cock and he teased the head between your folds and you whimpered softly at the feeling. He nuzzled his face against your cheek as he whispered into your ear. "It'll only hurt for a moment, my love.." those reassuring words of love were all you needed to know that you were one hundred precent ready for this. "I trust you.." you whispered back.

As he lined himself up with your entrance you took a deep breath as you prepared yourself and as soon as he pushed his cock inside of you that's when you exhaled sharply from the sharp and tense pain of him taking your virginity and making you a woman and that same song playing in your head at the most perfect moment once again, but you realized it wasn't in your head it was actually coming from the radio, it was playing again at such a beautiful moment with a beautiful man that you now deemed it as your song that you would share together. His groans snapping you back into reality and you pursed your lips as he pushed himself further into you and you let out a crying whimper, feeling him thrust himself inside of you slowly. "Y-You okay, baby? Do you need me to stop?" he whispered softly as he tried to choke back a moan. "N-No.. D-Don't stop.. Please.." you begged. He smirked as his face buried into the nape of your neck as he shoved himself all the way inside of you and you moaned out so loud that it came out in almost a scream as he plowed into you at a steady pace, his hips hitting against your own as you wrapped your legs around his hips tight and your hands gripped onto his strong arms, pulling him close against you as you clung to him as you buried your face into his left shoulder blade.

Your moans coming out muffled against him as did his own as he kept his face buried in your neck, sucking softly and leaving his mark on you as he picked up the tempo within you and plunged into you harder, deeper completely stretching out your pussy around him as his cock forced you open the feeling of your tight wet pussy felt as if you were made just for him. "F-Feel so damn good around me, baby.." he mewled. It felt as his the song was playing along with the rhythm he played within side you, his cock slamming against your cervix and it felt as if he bruising your insides, but every thrust, every moment inside of you felt like pure bliss that the moans that escaped you were nearly inaudible as your mouth formed an O shape. "E.. Oh god, baby.." you whimpered. You couldn't do anything else but whimper against him as he fucked you senseless, your nails clawing at his skin as you fought desperately to keep yourself from screaming from pleasure. He grabbed a hold of your thighs holding them tight as he held you still and now he couldn't control himself as his forcefully made you take him balls deep, your body aching, quivering beneath him as you heaved softly, it felt like someone had turned the heat up in your hotel room, but you soon realized it was the heat radiating off the both of you and the beads of sweat that formed on your bodies.

Your body began to tense and grow numb a fire in your belly growing stronger and stronger as you felt those pleasurable feelings so intense that you felt like you were going to explode, that's how strong your orgasm had felt. Your legs began to shake around him and felt like the room was spinning the way he through you into a frenzy. "I-I.. Elvis.. You're gonna make me cum.." you cried. He lifted his head and grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look at him and you stared deep into his piercing eyes that were full of lust and love for you. "That's right, baby.. Cum for me.. Cum all over what's yours, what belongs to you.." he mumbled. You clenched your jaw as you choked back your noises but it was all too much that you couldn't do it any longer and within an instant your orgasm hit like tidal wave and your eyes rolled back and your body froze as you cried out his name as came all over his cock. "Ah fuck.." he grunted out. It only took seconds for his orgasm to hit right after that he didn't have time to pull out before his thick warm cum came spirting out and coating your insides white. His hips stirred inside of you as he came to a slow stop.

He collapsed on top of you his cock still leaking inside of you as he took a moment to catch his breath and you clung to him not wanting him to move as you breathed heavily. It didn't even both of you that he hadn't pulled out the euphoric feeling still washing over you that you didn't care about anything else in this beautiful moment with him. He reached down to pull himself out of you and he groaned softly and you whimpered at the sudden empty feeling, his cum seeping out of you. As he tried to move off of you to lay down you shook your head with a pout. "No.." you whispered. He smiled warmly. "Okay, baby, I'll stay.." he whispered sweetly as he caressed your face. "Honey?" he mumbled. "Yes, Elvis?" you hummed. "I-I know it's sudden. Very sudden.. But will ya be my girl?" he asked shyly. The widest smile formed on your sleepy face and you captured his lips in a deep kiss and mumbling softly, "Yes, of course I will!" you beamed.

He grinned devouring your lips with his as he kissed you passionately and sloppily and you let out a soft noise against his mouth before you pulled back and giggled quietly. "Mama is going to freak when she finds out I'm coming back with a boyfriend. She'll probably faint when I tell her who it is." you laughed. He chuckled softly. "We don't want that.. We'll ease her into it." he said softly as he nuzzled his face into yours. You let out a soft content sigh feeling so safe within his embrace and knowing that you had nothing to fear with him, that he truly was a sweet, kindhearted southern gentlemen and that one thing was for sure you were his bestest girl...

Thank you so much for the request babe. I got a bit carried away. This was so cute and sweet and I hope that I did your request justice! ❤️

@purejasmine I finally did another Austin related fic!

#austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis fluff #austin!elvis smut #elvis presley #Austin butler #requested

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