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jungkoode · 2 days ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #14 死

† camping trip mysteries †

"You'd have never said you'd be involved in a Council of 9 meeting at any point in your life; yet here you are, suddenly thrusted into a mission with the Chief you've just hooked up with, because your life couldn't possibly get more complicated."

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⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9k

content: female friendships, silly conversations, Vyunjin, dodgeball, AD being horrible with throws, cryptic stuff, council meetings, having to work with jeon officially, gang loyalty and bestie gossip

☠ author's note ☠

I really milked this camping trip for all it's worth, huh? Three whole chapters of outdoor shenanigans! I regret NOTHING. Anyway, here's the conclusion of our little nature excursion! Hope you enjoyed this slightly more chill setting (apart from, y'know, chapter 12's 👉🏻👌🏻 situation) because don't worry—there's PLENTY of time for everything to go spectacularly to shit later <3

MY KIWI HEAD 🥝🤧 I genuinely love him so much and I'm as surprised as you are! Who would have thought?? I seriously had ZERO intentions for Takama when I started this—no plan, no backstory, nothing. He just showed up in my brain one day demanding rights.

Maybe I love him so much because he's the only one with more than two functioning brain cells? Like, the man is just... chill. Nice. Using his fucking brain. Being all wise and grounding while everyone else is having emotional crises left and right. THE VOICE OF REASON IN THIS CIRCUS.

Takama x Reader endgame??? Jkjk this is a Jeon Jungkook fanfic ☝️ ...which doesn't mean shit won't happen before/after 👀

ANYWAY I'll leave you to make your own assumptions about our kiwi boy. All I'm saying is that sometimes characters write themselves into your heart and there's nothing you can do about it. Is it just me as an author having unhealthy attachments to my own creations? PROBABLY! You tell me!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry about my fictional characters for the fifth time this week. It's only Tuesday. Send help.

xoxo 💋

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The morning hike with Chaewon was exactly what you needed—fresh air, quiet trails... No drama.

But of course, you can't have nice things in Kkangpae.

Not when you return to find V lounging on a log like some tragic hero while J-Hope patches up his split lip.

"What the hell happened here?"

You eye the scene, already getting a headache. The thorny scent of roses fills your lungs as V gives you what immediately recognize as a smug smile.

"Just a little disagreement." V's smile is all teeth despite his busted lip. "Jeon can get rather feisty when he wants to."

J-Hope just rolls his eyes, clearly done with V's bullshit. He hands you a sanitary napkin without looking up, too busy sorting through his medical supplies—which basically means please help me deal with this drama queen.

You crouch next to V, ignoring how his eyes track your movement like he's a cat and you're the bird he wants to catch. The napkin comes away bloody when you dab at his lip, and his body tenses slightly under your touch—barely noticeable if you weren't trained to pick up on these things.

"Careful now." His voice drops low, playful. "I might bite."

You don't miss a beat.

"You bite, you get no help." The words come out flat, unimpressed. "I'm not one of your fangirls, V."

His games might work on others, but you've seen enough of his thorny side to know better.

Those roses have teeth.

A low chuckle breaks the tension. J-Hope's back with his medical supplies, but V's still watching you—though now with something that might be respect.

Or whatever passes for respect in that thorny mind of his.

"You really had it coming this time." J-Hope clicks his tongue, cranky doctor mode fully activated as he settles back down. "Jeon isn't someone you poke for fun without expecting consequences."

"Me?" V's eyebrow shoots up, all wounded innocence. "I was just having a friendly chat. Who knew our brooding Chief still had some fight left in him?"

The act doesn't fool anyone—especially not J-Hope, who (you bet your ass) has been patching up the aftermath of V's friendly chats' for years.

"Friendly chat?" J-Hope scoffs, dabbing at V's lip with more force than strictly necessary. "You two always turn everything into a dick-measuring contest. One of these days someone's gonna end up with worse than a busted lip."

V leans toward you like he's sharing a secret, mischief written all over his features. "He's just worried he'll run out of medical supplies if we keep this up."

You expect J-Hope to snap back—he usually does when people get like this.

But he just sighs, shoulders heavy with a worry that feels too genuine for the Kkangpae's ruthless doctor.

"Or maybe I'm worried you'll end up with a split skull, dumbass."

It's weird, the way it dribbles from his lips—like actual concern.

Which is weird in a place like this, where caring too much can get you killed. But then again, J-Hope's always been different. Maybe that's why he's one of the few people V actually listens to.

Sometimes?

V's eyes meet yours, like he's either hunting for something or escaping whatever was swirling in the doctor's pupils. Though, as everything with V, it vanishes instantly behind that shark-like grin.

"Ah, Hobi, always looking out for me. What would I do without you?"

"Probably be lying in a ditch somewhere." J-Hope says it casually, but his snark feels less blunt now.

He gives V's shoulder a quick pat—kinda saying 'you're patched up, now get out of my face.' V nods his thanks, but his attention is already sliding back to you. His gaze lingers a bit too long, assessing.

"You've got a steady hand," he drawls, and you know he's not just talking about your first aid skills.

Thorns prickle your skin.

"And you've got a death wish." You hand the bloody napkin back to J-Hope, keeping your voice flat.

Unimpressed.

V's laugh shatters in the quiet. "Oh, you're interesting. I like you."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" You arch an eyebrow at him. "Coming from someone who just got his ass handed to him by Jeon, I'm not sure how much that's worth."

His smile widens; ever so slightly. Like what you said made him feel something—bad or good, you really don't care, but it's like his vines are slowly creeping into your lungs.

You just sigh, shrug it off. It's not your problem.

You've got enough on your plate without getting caught up in whatever dick-measuring contest is going on between V and Jeon.

Your attention abruptly shifts to Takama, sitting cross-legged in the grass like some zen master on his coffee break. Despite looking perfectly relaxed with his can of coffee, you know better—the man's probably cataloguing every movement in a three-mile radius.

He's just that kind of observant. It's just how he is, what he does, that much is clear from your training sessions with him.

Persistent without being belligerent; consistent without being insistent.

It's weird seeing him in casual clothes. The navy sweater and white collar combo is a far cry from his usual tactical gear, making him look almost... normal. Like he could be anyone's slightly intimidating older brother instead of Jeon's deadly second-in-command. Even his loose jeans seem deliberately chosen for comfort rather than combat.

He doesn't move a muscle as you approach, eyes fixed on the horizon like his mind has found refuge among the spongy dunes skittering away in the sky.

Or maybe he's just really into his morning coffee.

You plop down beside him, the damp grass immediately soaking through your pants because of course it does.

"Peaceful morning, isn't it?"

You break the silence, knowing Takama won't. Man's got the conversation skills of a particularly stoic rock when he wants to.

There's something calming about his presence though.

Like he's the drizzle after the hurricane.

Plus, he probably won't try to murder anyone over breakfast. Unlike some people you could name.

"Peace is rare around here." The corner of Takama's mouth quirks up slightly. "Savor it while it lasts."

You settle into the comfortable silence, watching the horizon paint itself in morning colors. Next to Takama, even coffee breaks feel philosophical.

"You and V," he starts, offering you the can. "You get along?"

You grab it and take a sip, considering your answer. The coffee's gone lukewarm.

"Hmm."

Yeah that's your answer, because you don't really know what to reply. It's definitely not a yes, but you don't... hate him either?

"He's a wildcard, but I can handle him," is what you end up settling for.

What follows is Takama's laugh—quiet, understated like everything else about him.

"V is... unpredictable. But he's loyal to the gang, in his own way." He pauses, choosing words carefully. "Just watch your back. Testing people is how he entertains himself."

You pass the can back, watching him take another sip. The liquid works through a swallow down his throat, and his Adam's apple bobs slightly. His head tilts towards you when he notices you've gone silent.

"And Jeon? How do you find working with him?"

The question makes your skin prickle, and you know it's not because of how sudden it is—but because of something else, as well.

Images from last night force their way through your mind like a wiggling worm unwilling to let go—callouses on skin, that silver lip ring, the way he'd touched you like you might break.

You take your time answering, very aware that this is Jeon's right-hand man asking—and that your neck probably still has marks his mouth left behind.

But you're not about to tell Takama that.

"He's... intense." You focus on shredding a blade of grass, needing something to do with your hands. "But we kind of... get each other, I guess."

Takama finally looks at you, and fuck—there's way too much understanding in those gray eyes.

Because with V you have a noncommittal answer.

But you just said you get along with Jeon. Kinda.

He doesn't comment on it, and it makes sense—being Jeon's second means he probably sees more than most.

About how hard exactly it is to be in Jeon's circle. Not part of it, not even near—just hovering.

It's not easy, you know that much.

"Jeon respects strength," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Stand your ground, and you'll earn his respect."

A pause. Then he adds, hushedly:

"Maybe more."

Your pupils flicker between his, trying to parse whatever the hell he means—but nothing in there gives you a hint.

He simply smiles, getting up and helping you up too.

You both turn back to watch the camp wake up, the morning routine starting to buzz around you.

Someone's cursing about cold showers. Someone else is complaining about AD.

You take another sip of lukewarm coffee, letting the bitterness ground you. It's easier than thinking about what maybe more might mean, or why your stomach churns at the thought.

Besides, you've got enough on your plate just dealing with regular Jeon.

You don't need to add cryptic messages to that mess.

The peaceful morning doesn't last long—because this is Kkangpae you're talking about.

Moon's voice cuts through your post-gossip haze, drawing everyone to the center of the camp like a very formal shepherd. Some people look about as thrilled as you feel about being up this early.

"All right, everyone!" He's got that tone—the one that says 'this is mandatory fun and you're going to like it.' "For today's lunch, we're doing something different. Group bibimbap, but with a twist: you'll work in pairs."

A ripple of murmurs spreads through the crowd. You catch Takama's eye—he just raises an eyebrow like 'here we go again'.

"These pairings," Moon continues, all business in his long coat despite the casual setting, "are chosen to mix different divisions and personalities. It's about teamwork and learning from each other."

You barely hold back a snort. Trust Moon to turn lunch prep into a team-building exercise.

Your attention snaps back when he calls out, "Y/N, you're paired with JM. I expect great things from you two."

Well, that could've been worse. At least JM's not likely to stab you over vegetable chopping techniques.

When you reach him, he's already smiling that gentle smile that makes him look more like a kindergarten teacher than a gang's financial mastermind.

"Looks like we're a team." His voice matches his whole vibe—calm as a lake on a windless day. "Any ideas on what we should tackle?"

You're about to answer when a groan cuts through your chat with JM.

You turn to see AD looking like someone just deleted his gaming setup, while J-Hope's already got that 'done with this shit' smile plastered on his face.

"Bro, why the fuck am I always paired with your annoying ass?" AD slumps against a tree, all dramatic like the gremlin he is.

J-Hope just rolls his eyes. "Because Moon loves to torture me, that's why. Come on, let's just get this over with."

Your eyes inevitably roam around the clearing, taking in the other pairings.

Jeon and Chaewon—they acknowledge each other with matching professional nods, something like 'we respect each other but let's keep this strictly business' hovering over them.

Takama and Jessi make an oddly perfect pair, his zen energy somehow containing her wildfire spirit as they huddle together, already plotting.

V's got Yunjin trapped in what looks like his usual chaotic storytelling, though she seems to be holding her own—and then there's Eunchae and Sakura, who look like they're planning to turn lunch prep into some kind of competition.

Meanwhile, Kazuha's hanging onto Moon's every word like he's sharing the secrets of the universe instead of just bibimbap instructions.

"So." JM's gentle voice pulls you back. "Should we handle the veggies? I think we could make a great team in chopping and prepping them."

"Sounds good to me." You find yourself matching his easy smile. "Let's show them how it's done."

At least someone in this chaos circus knows how to be normal.

You follow JM to gather supplies, falling into an easy rhythm. His gentle energy is oddly reassuring, and makes even veggie prep feel zen.

Plus, he actually knows what he's doing, which is more than you can say for half the pairs around you.

Because AD's already whining about something while J-Hope ignores him completely.

Yeah; that's Kkangpae for you.

But then you catch sight of V with Yunjin and your stomach turns, why, you don't know. Poor Yunjin's holding her knife like she's never seen one before, eyes darting around nervously.

And its knives, so yeah, V swoops right in.

"Let me show you," he purrs, and fuck him for actually sounding smooth.

You see his hand sliding over hers, like he isn't the same person who had blood on his lip an hour ago.

"There's a rhythm to it, like a dance." You watch him press closer, caging Yunjin with his body while he guides the knife. "Feel the movement. It's about confidence, purpose."

"Like this?" Yunjin's voice is small, breathless.

"Exactly like that." He eases into it. "Every slice tells a story of precision and care. And you, Yunjin, have a knack for it."

You grip your own knife tighter, fighting the urge to stab those thorny vines right out of the air. He's charming, you'll give him that.

But you fear the sweet floral scent roses simply masks decaying waste underneath.

And he needs to stay the fuck away from Yunjin.

You can't help noticing how she melts under his attention, all shy smiles and batting eyelashes. Like a moth drawn to a particularly deadly flame.

"There, you're a pro now." V steps back with a wink.

"Thanks, V." Yunjin beams up at him. "I think I've got it from here."

A slight movement catches your eye—JM's knife has stopped mid-chop.

His gaze darts between V and Yunjin like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, and it's real subtle, but you catch the way his jaw tightens.

"JM," you keep your voice casual, "you seem a bit distracted. Everything okay?"

He snaps back to his vegetables, gentle smile sliding back. "Oh, it's nothing. Just... observing the dynamics. It's interesting to see how different personalities interact, don't you think?"

You nod, watching V circle Yunjin. "True. Especially with V. Makes you wonder what goes on behind that smile."

"Exactly." His smile is halfhearted at best. "Sometimes, the most cheerful faces hide the deepest stories."

The way he says it makes you wonder just how many of V's stories JM knows.

And how many of them keep him up at night.

You and JM fall into a comfortable rhythm again, just hearing AD complaining about something, Eunchae's bright laughter, the clatter of pots and pans.

Then—crash.

Your head snaps up, muscles tensing automatically. Old habits die hard in Kkangpae.

It's Chaewon.

She's standing frozen, an overturned pot at her feet, staring at one of Jessi's guys like she's seen a ghost. His hand hangs awkwardly in the air where it had brushed against hers. You can see her breathing speed up—tell-tale sign of panic she's never shown before.

JM's knife stills mid-chop. Before you can blink, he's already moving toward her.

Jessi's there too, quickly motioning for the guy to back off—and he does, looking confused and apologetic, but you notice how Chaewon's shoulders drop slightly once he's out of reach.

JM murmurs something to her, too low for you to hear (though you bet that gentle voice of his could probably talk down a rabid bear). Chaewon gives a tiny nod, but her knuckles are still white where she's gripping her sleeve.

When Jessi touches her shoulder, you catch that silent conversation between the three of them.

The kind that comes from knowing someone's demons intimately.

"Alright, everyone, back to work." Jessi shouts. "Nothing to see here. Let's keep the focus on the task at hand."

Everyone turns back to their tasks, but you don't miss how JM stays close to Chaewon, or how Jessi's eyes keep scanning the crowd like she's daring anyone to make this worse.

JM hovers near her for another minute before coming back to your chopping station, and when he does, he picks up his knife and starts slicing carrots like nothing's happened at all.

"Guess we all have our off days, huh?" You keep your voice light, casual. No pressure.

JM's knife stills for a moment. He doesn't look up.

"Everyone has ghosts they're running from." The words come out soft. "Some just hide them better than others."

You let the silence settle. There's an unspoken rule in the gang—you don't go digging in other people's graveyards unless they hand you the shovel first.

"I'm gonna wash up," you mutter, already heading for the makeshift sink, feeling like he needs some silence before being back to normal.

Behind you, JM's knife resumes its path against the cutting board.

You're shaking water off your hands when footsteps approach from behind. Months in Kkangpae have taught you to be alert even for something as mundane as washing up after veggie prep.

"So you do know how to clean up."

The low drawl sends heat crawling up your spine. You know that voice—and the smirk that goes with it—without having to turn around.

"Turns out, I'm full of surprises." You flick excess water in Jeon's direction, catching his dangerous half-smile when you glance over your shoulder.

His chuckle hits you right in the gut, deep and rich and —fuck—suddenly all you can think about is last night.

His hands, his mouth, the way he'd made you shatter.

"Surprising indeed." There's that smug tone again. "Especially since I recall someone being too fucked out to help with cleanup duty."

"Well," you drop your voice low, just for him, "if you hadn't made such a goddamn mess, there'd have been less to clean up."

Your body remembers how close you'd been—how you'd ground against each other like teenagers, desperate and needy.

How his cock had felt pressed against you, so close but not close enough because someone didn't bring protection.

The frustration from last night still burns under your skin, reminder of what could have been.

If he'd just been prepared...

Jeon steps closer, and—fuck—even after last night, his presence still makes your skin prickle.

"A mess, you say? The way I remember it, you were just as responsible for the chaos."

"Chaos?" You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as heat crawls up your neck. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon. It was... mild disarray at best."

His grin widens, and you hate how your eyes keep tracking that stupid lip piercing.

"Mild disarray? You were panting like you'd run through every back alley in Seoul."

You scoff, trying not to remember how he'd made you shake, how his hands had felt mapping every inch of you.

"Breathless, maybe. But let's not blow it out of proportion."

"Hah." His eyes narrow. "You've got a sharp tongue. But we both know—"

A shout from across the camp makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his for a split second before you step apart, smooth as shadows. Professional. Like you weren't just thinking about climbing him like a tree.

Again.

You turn away, finally letting out that breath you'd been holding.

The banter gets you hot under the collar but fuck if you don't want more. Not that you'll admit that.

Even if part of you is already plotting round two.

This time with actual protection. Because seriously.

"Anyway," his voice cuts through your thoughts, "we should get back to work. Long day ahead."

"Right." You nod, and then go right back to prepping veggies.

Yeah. This is going to be a very long day indeed.

The smell of bibimbap hits different after spending all morning chopping vegetables next to JM's weirdly zen energy.

And yup—everyone's gathering around the portable tables, looking stupidly proud of their contributions like they didn't just spend half the morning complaining about Moon's team-building exercise.

You grab a spot next to Yunjin, who's already halfway through telling you about her latest drama obsession; eyes practically sparkling as she waves her chopsticks around.

"No but listen—the main lead thinks his brother died in that fire, right?" She leans in close, pink hair falling in her face. "But then in episode sixteen we find out he's actually been alive this whole time! Living in China!"

You nearly choke on your rice. "That's the most unrealistic plot twist I've ever—"

"Mind if I join?" Takama's calm voice slices through Yunjin's enthusiastic plot summary; slight smile that makes him look more like a monk than Jeon's deadly second-in-command.

"Pull up a chair." You scoot over to make room. "Yunjin's educating me on the finer points of melodrama."

"Ah." His eyes crinkle as he settles in. "The ones where everyone's secretly related and nobody stays dead?"

"Exactly!" Yunjin beams. "Like this one where the brooding CEO's got a secret relationship—"

"Should've fought harder for the meat distribution," you murmur, poking at your mostly vegetable bibimbap.

Before you can finish sighing about your protein deficiency, Takama's chopsticks appear in your line of sight, depositing a generous portion of beef onto your plate.

"Here. I prefer vegetables anyway."

"Liar." But you're already mixing the meat into your rice, trying not to look too pleased. "Thanks."

Yunjin pouts at that, surely expecting some meat too (even when her plate shows basically 0 vegetables anyway). You kick her under the table, and she almost bounces with a chuckle.

"So, V's actually a really good teacher," she says dreamily, pushing her rice around. "Did you know he used to work in a restaurant?"

You cough.

V's "restaurant" experience probably involved more knife-work than cooking.

"Is that so?" Takama asks, slightly puzzled.

"Mhm!" She sighs, all starry-eyed. "And he's so patient. The way he showed me how to hold the knife—"

"Speaking of knives," Takama cuts in smoothly, "your technique has improved, Y/N. Been practicing?"

You're grateful for the subject change. Watching Yunjin moon over V is like watching a butterfly land on a Venus flytrap.

"Yeah, well. Can't let the Seduction Division down, right?"

His smile is small but genuine. "Right."

Movement then catches your eye—Chaewon's heading your way, black bob bouncing with each step. She smiles when she spots you, but you don't miss how she falters slightly when she notices Takama. Her eyes dart between him and the empty space beside you, calculating.

For a second, you think she might turn around.

But then she simply strides over like she owns the place, sliding into the spot next to you.

You don't miss how she angles her body away from Takama, though.

"What's got everyone looking so serious?" She bumps your shoulder playfully. "Don't tell me Yunjin's got you all hooked on her dramas too."

"Not all of us can be as cultured as Yunjin." You grin as Yunjin pretends to be offended. "We were just discussing the finer points of V's... cooking techniques."

That makes Yunjin blush, but Chaewon's eyes sharpen. You catch that protective glint—the same one she gets whenever any of the male members get too close to her division.

"Oh?" Her voice is light, but there's steel underneath. "And how did you find our resident psychopath's teaching methods?"

"Come on, he was really patient!" Yunjin pipes up. "And his hands were so—"

"Speaking of hands," Chaewon interjects quickly, "I heard there was quite the incident at morning coffee. Something about Jeon's right hook meeting V's face?"

Trust Chaewon to steer the conversation away from V's charms while gathering intel in the same breath. Sometimes you forget she's your Chief for a reason.

Heels on grass make your eyes stutter behind Chaewon's silhouette.

It's Jessi; obviously—who claims the spot next to Takama, all long red hair and confident energy.

She's probably the only person who can make eating bibimbap look like a power move.

"Well, well." She waves her chopsticks at your little group. "What's this about dramas? Please tell me someone's finally calling out how unrealistic those chaebol storylines are."

"We were discussing layers," you explain, watching her pile kimchi onto her rice with the same precision she probably uses to plan weapons shipments. "You know, how people aren't always what they seem."

"Like how our fearless Chief here—" she angles her head towards Chaewon, "—pretends to be all business, but I caught her crying over cat videos last week?"

"That was one time." Chaewon tries to glare but can't quite hide her smile. "And you promised not to tell."

"Please." Jessi snorts. "Everyone knows you're a softie under all that badassery. Remember when you threatened to shoot that guy who made Eunchae cry?"

"He deserved it." Chaewon's voice goes flat, protective instincts flashing. "Nobody messes with my girls."

"And that's exactly what we mean," Yunjin pipes up, somehow making even this observation sound sweet. "Everyone's got different sides. Like how Jessi acts tough but always saves the last strawberry milk for AD."

"Oi—" Jessi points her chopsticks at Yunjin threateningly, but there's no malice in it. "Just for that, you're testing all the new rifles when we get back to the castle. Someone needs to make sure they don't jam."

Something about the easiness of the conversation makes something unfurl in your chest.

It's weird seeing these deadly women just... being friends. Sharing lunch and inside jokes like they aren't some of the most dangerous people in Seoul.

But then again, maybe that's exactly what Yunjin meant about layers.

"Sooo," Jessi prompts, "who wants to share their deep dark secrets? Come on, don't be shy."

"Real subtle, Joo." Chaewon rolls her eyes, but you catch that tiny smile she always gets around Jessi. "What's next, trust falls?"

"I'd let you fall." Jessi winks, making Chaewon snort into her rice.

Takama, who's been quiet this whole time, surprises everyone by speaking up. "Sometimes the secrets we keep aren't about trust. Sometimes they're about protection."

"Like how we all pretend AD doesn't secretly feed the stray cats behind the castle?" Yunjin singsongs then.

That breaks the tension, sending ripples of laughter around the group.

Even Takama cracks a smile.

"Or how Jessi acts tough but cried during that dog commercial last week?" Chaewon dodges the grape Jessi throws at her head.

"That dog was reunited with its family," Jessi hisses, but she's fighting back a grin. "Forgive me for having a heart."

"Yeah, buried somewhere under those nine inch heels."

You smile at that, and you note how the sun is high over head now, warming skin through the trees.

You should probably get back to work—those intel reports won't file themselves. But for now, you let yourself enjoy this moment of peace.

Even gang members need lunch breaks sometimes.

Dodgeball is usually fun. Keyword: usually—because when it's among deadly people... competitiveness is too light of a word.

You're in the middle of debating some strategy with Yunjin when Jeon's presence immediately freezes the whole camp. One second you're planning how to take down AD's team (he might be a tech genius but his aim is shit), and the next—

"Meeting. Council of 9, now."

Jeon's voice is calm, as usual. But it's precise, blunt in a way that makes your hackles rise. His face gives nothing away—typical—but something in his posture screams urgent.

The Council members share quick looks before following him into the trees. Moon's already at his side, glasses catching the sunlight. Chaewon squeezes your shoulder as she passes, and Jessi winks at Yunjin, but neither stops to explain.

Just like that, your cozy little camping trip turns into a war room—playful energy from moments ago gone, leaving behind the familiar sensation that comes with being in a criminal organization.

"Damn." Yunjin drops onto the bench beside you, pink hair falling in her face. "Even on a camping trip, we can't escape the threats."

Your little lunch group now feels weirdly empty without Jessi's loud energy and Chaewon's dry comments. You catch yourself staring at the path where they disappeared, like maybe if you look hard enough you'll develop x-ray vision.

So much for that epic dodgeball tournament you'd planned. Although honestly? Getting hit with rubber balls suddenly seems like the least of your problems.

"It's just how things work around here." Takama shrugs, wiping sweat from his shaved head.

Of course the dodgeball game's been put on hold, everyone too distracted by the Council's sudden disappearance to focus.

"Hey, Takemichi!" Eunchae bounces over, still flushed from running around. "Any idea what's going on? You're like, Jeon's right hand and all."

Takama's eye twitches at the nickname, but he doesn't comment on it. "No clue. But Jeon doesn't call meetings without good reason. Especially not during planned activities."

Your eyes drift to where the Council members vanished into the trees. It's odd seeing Jeon actually interact with people—the man's about as social as a brick wall. Even J-Hope, who he supposedly tolerates, barely gets more than grunts out of him most days. That whole don't-fuck-with-me hurricane aura of his keeps everyone at a safe distance.

And yet.

You'd fucked him.

Well, kinda.

Heat crawls up your neck as you mentally reminisce about last night.

Pride mingles with something else as you remember that untouchable Chief's face when he came all over your belly.

Focus, dumbass. Now isn't the time to replay your greatest hits. If Jeon's gathering the Council in the middle of fucking dodgeball, something's definitely wrong.

"Do you think it's..." Yunjin chews her lip, lowering her voice. "MDF?"

The mention of Myung-dong Faction makes everyone's faces go pale.

"Hard to say." Takama's voice drops to barely above a whisper. "But we did just wreck their trafficking ring. Hanjun's gone now. They're not known for letting that kind of thing slide."

You share a look with Yunjin and Eunchae. You remember Hanjun from your last mission—the way he'd crumpled when Kkangpae was done with him.

The way his whole operation had fallen apart like a house of cards.

Sakura's usually bright face is serious as she crouches next to you. "If it's MDF, we're fucked."

"They've been too quiet." Kazuha runs a hand through her wine-colored hair, eyes scanning the treeline like she expects assassins to materialize. "That's not their style. Not after what we did to their golden boy."

And she's right, isn't she? MDF isn't known for their forgive-and-forget attitude. Their silence these past weeks has been... unsettling. Like holding your breath underwater, knowing you'll have to surface eventually.

"Whatever it is, we need to be ready." Eunchae sighs. "Can't let our guard down. Not even here."

"We need to be united now more than ever." Takama's voice rumbles low as he scans the treeline."Division only makes us vulnerable, they might aim for that."

And he's right; because Kkangpae's strength isn't just in its firepower—it's in moments like this, when everyone's got each other's backs.

"Whatever the Council needs," you say, meaning it. "We've got their six."

The group falls quiet, the forgotten dodgeball lying between you like some sad metaphor for your interrupted normalcy. Somewhere in the distance, a bird calls. You almost miss it under the sound of your heart pounding.

A rustle in the bushes makes you lean back.

Though it's just J-Hope, looking way too serious for someone who was laughing at AD's failed dodgeball throws ten minutes ago.

"They need you." His eyes find yours, steady and unreadable. "Jeon asked for you specifically."

You share a quick look with Takama, and he's wearing the same exact puzzled expression as you.

"Me? Why would he—"

J-Hope just shakes his head. Great. Because being summoned by the dude you almost fucked last night during a secret Council meeting isn't complicated enough.

But you don't really have much choice, so you trail behind J-Hope like a kid being called to the principal's office, mind racing faster than your heart.

What the actual fuck could Jeon want? And why during the middle of dodgeball, of all things?

The Council's little forest hideaway comes into view, and suddenly you've got nine pairs of eyes drilling into you.

Great. Just great. Nothing like being stared at by the most dangerous people in Seoul while you're in workout clothes and probably still red-faced from almost getting beaned by AD's wild throws.

Jeon stands like a statue among them, and he speaks immediately upon seeing you.

"We have a situation that needs your input."

No greeting, no explanation, just straight to the point. Pure Jeon. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so aware of every Council member watching you.

"Remember your first mission?" Chaewon continues. "The women we rescued? You were the only one who actually saw them in that room."

Of course you remember—hard not to, even if you wish you wouldn't.

That cramped, dark room with its rusty bars and stale air. Women huddled in corners like broken birds, some too afraid to even look up when you'd entered.

Your first real taste of what the Seduction Division actually does.

Not the glamorous spy shit you'd imagined, but the ugly, necessary work of saving people from monsters.

"Remember what any of the women looked like?" Chaewon presses.

You try to remember, but the thing that comes first is the smell of fear and desperation—thick enough to choke on.

Then it's their faces. Burned into your brain. And then... hers.

"There was one girl," you start carefully, watching the Council's reactions. "Couldn't have been more than eighteen. Skinny thing, but her eyes..."

You pause, searching for the right words.

"Even in that shithole, she was... I don't know. Like she was just waiting for a chance to burn the whole place down."

You catch the tiny shift in Jessi's jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her weapon.

The air feels like a forest fire waiting to happen.

"Dark reddish-brown hair," you continue, the details getting clearer as you speak. "Matted to hell, but you could tell it was beautiful once. And the way she held herself..."

"That's enough." Jeon interrupts you. "Your recollection could prove useful. We believe that girl is connected to one of our own. This isn't some random MDF hit."

Your stomach drops. Because shit—that... That changes everything.

MDF might be brutal, but they're not stupid.

Kidnapping someone connected to Kkangpae? That's not just an attack—it's a message.

A very personal message.

You watch the Council's faces, trying to read between the lines.

If MDF knows enough to target someone specific, how much else do they know? How deep have they dug into everyone's past?

The thought makes your skin crawl.

"Now we know this is personal." Chaewon's voice is ice-cold, all business. "The question is, how do we respond?"

"We hit back." Jessi's voice cracks like a whip, raw and broken. "Show those fuckers what happens when you mess with Kkangpae."

J-Hope reaches for her shoulder, ever the voice of reason. "I know you want blood, Jessi. But an all-out war will only get innocent people killed."

Jessi jerks away from his touch, but you see how her hands shake.

"I should've been there," she whispers, more to herself than anyone else. "I should never have left them alone."

The pain in her voice makes your chest tight; you've never seen Jessi like this—like she's barely holding herself together.

"Why don't we just storm their headquarters and slaughter them all?" V (who's been conspicuously quiet until now) raises his voice.

The guy is just leaning back against a tree, playing with a butterfly knife like he thinks he's the Joker or something.

"Picture it." His smile grows wider, more unhinged. "Their precious hideout painted red, bodies everywhere. We could string up their leaders—or what's left of them—as a warning."

JM gives him one look—one that somehow manages to pierce through V's psychotic haze. Like he's the only person besides RM who can actually rein him in when he gets like this.

V slumps back with an exaggerated pout, thorny aura receding slightly. The switch from bloodthirsty to playful is so fast it gives you whiplash.

"As entertaining as that sounds," JM's voice is steady, like a calm lake washing away V's chaos, "we need precision here. Not a bloodbath."

"You never let me have fun." V whines like a kid denied candy instead of mass murder. "But fine, we'll be civilized."

JM turns back to the Council. "Please continue. V's just... working through some things. He understands the need for balance."

Jeon's face gives nothing away, but you notice how his jaw tightens. Having to share space with V is bad enough—having to listen to his murder fantasies is clearly testing what little patience he has left.

"As I was saying..." Jeon continues.

JM gives V another one of those looks and V slumps against the tree.

The thorny scent of roses fades to something more bearable, though you can tell he's just waiting for another chance to suggest mass murder.

"I might have a better idea." AD clears his throat. "A bloodbath would be satisfying, sure, but we need intel first. Something clean and quiet that gives us some advantage."

You watch him run a hand through his messy blonde hair, thinking three steps ahead while looking like he just rolled out of bed.

"We know where their hideout is. Send in a small team, two people max. Get their data, their plans, their weak spots." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Information is better than bullets right now."

The Council members exchange looks. Even V stops fidgeting with his knife. You catch Jeon's shoulders relaxing slightly—he knows a good plan when he hears one.

"Stealth does play to our strengths," Jeon admits, and his eyes flick to you for a split second. "Who did you have in mind?"

AD jerks his chin toward you.

"She's perfect for this. Hanjun's well acquainted with Flower now, but Y/N? She was only there for the takedown. He never had time to report back about her or the other girls. But between all of them," he adds, "she's the only one who got to see all the girls."

Suddenly you've got nine of Seoul's most dangerous criminals staring at you. But you meet Jeon's gaze head-on, refusing to flinch.

Finally—a chance to prove yourself.

And maybe get some answers about what's really going on with MDF.

"She's just an ensign." JM mumbles. "She's gonna need backup."

The Chiefs exchange looks, probably running through a mental list of who they could trust not to fuck this up. Your heart's still pounding from being called in, from learning about this mission that could change everything.

"Jeon will lead this operation." RM's voice leaves no room for argument. Like he's announcing the weather, except the weather is your hookup being assigned as your partner.

Amazing, really love that for you.

"You're picking him for stealth?" V's voice goes high with indignation, like someone just insulted his knife collection. "I'm literally the Chief of Stealth Assassinations. What the actual fuck?"

Thorns prickle the air, sharp with offense. You definitely catch Jeon's tiny smirk—he's enjoying V's tantrum way too much.

"Jeon has the discipline this requires." RM's tone could freeze hell itself. "We can't afford your... creative interpretations of orders right now."

V opens his mouth—probably to suggest murdering everyone involved, knowing him—but JM slaps a hand over it. The look V gives him could kill a lesser man, but JM just raises an eyebrow.

"This mission's success is crucial." RM continues like V isn't plotting JM's death with his eyes. "We need strategy, not chaos."

You watch Jeon's face carefully. His expression gives nothing away, but you just know he's thinking the same thing you are:

How the fuck are you two supposed to focus on a stealth mission when you can barely keep your hands off each other?

"Come on," V's voice drags after getting rid of JM's hand, "we all remember how well these two work together. Like gasoline and a lit match. Either they'll kill each other or fuck like rabbits. Not ideal for a stealth op, eh?"

JM smacks his shoulder, but V just grins wider. Your face burns as Jeon goes rigid beside you, like a gathering strength.

If looks could kill, V would be six feet under from the glare Jeon's sending him.

You stare very intently at a patch of grass, fighting the urge to squirm, because V has no idea how close to home that "fucking like rabbits" comment hits.

Or maybe he does—you can never tell what that psycho actually knows.

"Enough." JM sighs. "RM's guidance is sound. Jeon, you're our best strategic mind. Tactical is probably our best approach right now."

Jeon's jaw works for a moment before he gives a sharp nod. "Understood. I'll lead the operation."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Stuck on a stealth mission with the guy you've secretly hooked up with, while his psychotic sworn enemy watches and makes sex jokes.

Just another day in Kkangpae.

"For now," RM's redirects the conversation swiftly, "let's focus on the task at hand. This camping trip was meant to build unity and trust. We can't lose sight of that."

Unity and trust.

Right.

Because nothing says team bonding like sending you and the guy you're dying to have sex with to infiltrate enemy territory while pretending you've never seen each other naked.

"There will be time later to prepare for the mission." He adds. "But while we're here, I expect everyone's full commitment to this team-building exercise."

Jeon surprises you by actually looking... chastened? as he gives RM a short nod. "You're right. My priorities were misplaced. I apologize for the disruption."

And that's... New. You've never heard Jeon apologize for anything.

But then again, RM's probably the only person in Seoul who could make him bow down. The amount of respect Jeon has for him is almost an entity of its own.

"No need to apologize." RM's stern expression softens slightly. "Let's refocus together on strengthening our bonds as a crew."

More team bonding. Because that's exactly what you need right now... bonding,̶ ̶o̶r̶ b̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶?̶

You give Jeon one last look before V's voice cuts through, all manic energy as usual.

"Last one back has to clean everyone's dishes!"

And then he just... takes off running like the psychopath he is, thorns receding with him. Because of course he'd turn this into a competition.

"Oh, fuck no!" Jessi kicks off her heels, already sprinting after him in bare feet. "I am not cleaning after his ass."

Chaewon and JM share this look—probably something like 'we're both too dignified for this shit' passing between them before they're running too, probably realizing nobody wants to risk V winning anything.

"How childish." J-Hope rolls his eyes, but AD's already got that gleam he gets when someone issues a challenge.

"Childish?" AD's grin is pure evil. "I bet I could eat enough for ten people. Give you something real nice to clean."

"You little shit—" J-Hope takes off after him. "Get back here!"

You glance back at Jeon and RM, both still walking like they're above such peasant activities.

But fuck it—you're already sweaty from dodgeball, might as well commit to the chaos.

"Think I'll take AD's strategy." You flash Jeon your sweetest smile. "Eat everything in sight, let someone else deal with cleanup."

You're running before he can reply, laughter bubbling up.

And then, merely a few second later, you hear his steady footsteps turn into something faster.

Looks like even the mighty Chief can't resist a challenge.

The campsite comes into view through the trees, and you pick up your pace.

You jog into the clearing, lungs burning, only to find V and RM already there.

What the actualfuck?

"How did RM beat us?" The words come out between gasps.

The man runs a criminal empire in designer suits, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be able to outrun anyone.

V just grins that Cheshire cat smile of his and then, Jessi, Chaewon and JM stumble in next, all tangled together and cackling like teenagers.

"JM's face when I almost tripped him—" Jessi wheezes, red hair wild from running.

Everyone else filters in gradually, catching their breath and comparing notes on who cheated (definitely V).

But oddly enough, there's no sign (or sound) of J-Hope or AD.

Then—

"You absolute fucking cockwomble, let go before I rearrange your face!"

"Not happening, you lil' bitch. I'm not cleaning your blood off the floor again!"

You turn to find J-Hope and AD crashing through the underbrush like drunk bears, locked in what has to be the world's most undignified wrestling match. AD's blonde hair is full of leaves, and J-Hope's pristine turtleneck is covered in dirt.

Seoul's most dangerous gang, ladies and gentlemen.

Truly terrifying.

"You wanna fucking go, asshole?" AD thrashes like a feral cat, trying to land a hit on J-Hope. "I'll rip out your spine and use it as a fucking ethernet cable!"

But J-Hope's got him locked down, using his height advantage like the bastard he is. AD might be scrappy, but the doctor's got experience wrestling patients into submission.

"You need to get out of this unscathed first, you dumbass—"

"Then I'll download your consciousness into a punching bag," AD snarls, still fighting. "Have you getting hit for eternity, you piece of shit!"

Their little death match stumbles closer to camp. J-Hope's got AD in a headlock now, ignoring the increasingly creative threats being spewed at his face.

"I'll be patching you up after this, you psychotic gremlin." J-Hope finally slams AD into the dirt, probably enjoying this way too much. "Maybe I'll sew a live rat in your stomach. Let it chew its way out through your organs."

They keep wrestling, but it's getting pathetic—like watching two drunk uncles fight at a family barbecue. Both of them are red-faced and panting, shirts half-ripped from trying to hold each other back.

You can't help noticing they look wrecked—covered in sweat and leaves.

Actually...

"They must've been holding each other back the whole way here." You snort.

No wonder they're last. These idiots literally spent the entire race trying to murder each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" V's voice rings out like a demented game show host. "Our esteemed winners, graceful as ever!"

J-Hope and AD freeze mid-choke hold, finally noticing their audience.

The look of pure horror on their faces is priceless.

"Dish duty it is, boys!" Jessi's grin is absolutely feral.

AD shoves J-Hope off like an angry cat, but they're both too winded from their pathetic wrestling match to do more than hurl insults at each other.

"This is all your fucking fault!" AD jabs a finger at J-Hope's chest, looking about as threatening as a wet Pomeranian. "If you hadn't grabbed me—"

"My fault?" J-Hope's voice gets higher. "Big words from someone shaped like a fun-sized candy bar!"

"Say that again, you overgrown fucking giraffe!" AD tries to lunge but stumbles, still panting. "I fucking dare you!"

RM steps in before they can start round two of the world's most embarrassing fight.

"That's enough, you two. We all enjoyed the show, but it's time to work."

They both shut up immediately—even AD knows better than to test RM's patience. But the glares they shoot each other could probably melt steel.

"Can't believe I'm stuck with your ass for cleanup duty," AD grumbles, brushing leaves out of his blonde hair.

"Trust me, I'd rather perform surgery blindfolded. But maybe next time you'll think twice before dragging me down with you."

"As if I need help being slow from someone who runs like a drunk giraffe."

Their bickering fades as they head back to camp, still shoving each other like kindergarteners fighting over the last juice box.

Well. At least you'll enjoy a show during dinner time tonight.

One would think dinner time would be dulled down now, after the Council meeting earlier.

But nope—gang members are scattered around the fires like this is some post apocalypse scavenging situation.

You can't help watching V with Yunjin. He's leaning in close and probably whispering some bullshit about knives being romantic or whatever gets him going.

And Yunjin—sweet, perceptive Yunjin who usually sees right through everyone's bullshit—is eating it up. She's doing that thing where she plays with her hair, pink strands twisting around her finger while she giggles at whatever murder joke V's telling.

You snort into your food, because you just don't get what's it with these two.

The weirdest part? Even knowing what V's capable of (the rumors about his "artistic approach" to killing make your skin crawl), you kind of get why people fall for his act.

He's got that whole dangerous charm thing down to an art.

"Hey stranger!" Eunchae drops onto the bench beside you, nearly knocking over your drink. Sakura slides in more gracefully across from you, because someone in your division has to have coordination.

"What was the super secret meeting about? You went in looking normal and came out all..." Eunchae waves her chopsticks vaguely. "You know. Intense."

"Classified." You shrug, trying not to think about what that meeting means for you and a certain hurricane-aura'd Chief. "Above your pay grade."

"Ugh, you're no fun." She slumps dramatically against your shoulder. "I wish I could join the Council just to know all the juicy stuff."

"We're here if you need to talk," Sakura adds quietly, and fuck—sometimes you forget how perceptive your division can be.

"Thanks." You bump Eunchae's shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest. These idiots might be professional honey traps, but they're your idiots. "I mean it."

You go back to your food, half-listening to Eunchae's story about some mark who thought cryptocurrency was foreplay. But your eyes keep drifting to V and Yunjin.

What's your friendly neighborhood psychopath plotting this time?

However, the first drops of rain quickly hit your food like tiny bullets. Within seconds, the drizzle turns into a full-blown downpour because of courseit does.

Nothing like a surprise shower to end your deeply suspicious dinner observations.

"Oh, come on." Eunchae snatches up her plate, already running for cover, chestnut hair plastered to her face by the time she makes it three steps.

Your eyes snap to where V still has Yunjin trapped in conversation. They're both getting soaked but Yunjin's still hanging on his every word, pink hair turning darker in the rain.

"Yunjin!" You pitch your voice to carry over the rain. "Unless you want to catch pneumonia, might want to wrap it up!"

She blinks like she's coming out of a trance, finally noticing she's halfway to drowned. The spell breaks—thank fuck—and she hurries over to you, gathering her stuff with slightly shaky hands.

"Thanks for the save." Her voice is quiet, almost sheepish. "Got a bit... distracted."

"Yeah, no shit." You grab her arm, steering her toward your tent. "Let's get inside before we both melt."

You dodge through the chaos of gang members running for shelter, curses mixing with laughter. Someone—probably AD—slips in a mud puddle and lets out a string of creative profanity that would make a sailor blush.

The relative safety of your tent feels like crossing a finish line. The rain hammers against the canvas, but at least you're dry.

Well. Drier.

The rain doesn't let up for hours, turning the campsite into something out of a moody indie film. But inside your tent? It's like a sleepover bubble—wrapped up in cozy blankets and the glow from Yunjin's phone where some poor actor is having his third dramatic breakdown of the episode.

Yunjin's using your stomach as a pillow, pink hair splayed across your hoodie while she decimates the bag of chips between you. Every few minutes her hand dives in without looking, too focused on whatever absurd plot twist is happening now.

"This one's actually decent," she murmurs, smiling at the screen where someone's probably discovering their evil twin or something.

"If you say so." You can't help grinning as the male lead clutches his chest like he's having a heart attack over a text message. "These writers must be on something wild. Like, who comes up with this shit?"

Her giggle vibrates against your stomach.

"That's why they're fun! You never know what's coming next." She tilts her head back to look at you. "Kind of like living here, right? Never a dull moment in Kkangpae."

"God, don't jinx it." But you're laughing too because she's not wrong. Your life has definitely taken some drama-worthy turns lately. "Though I hope we're at least more realistic than that."

You both fall into easy conversation, trading comments about the show and today's chaos. When the male lead starts laying it on thick with the female lead, you see your chance. Time to figure out what the hell V was playing at earlier with all that knife teaching.

"So." You poke Yunjin's side with your toe, aiming for casual. "What's with you and V today? The whole knife lesson thing seemed... weird."

Yunjin doesn't look away from her drama. Of course she doesn't.

"I mean, have you seen him?" She sighs dreamily. "He's like a walking thirst trap. Those hands..."

"Oh my god." You stare down at her pink head in disbelief. "You'd actually fuck him? Like, actually actually?"

She finally tears her eyes from the screen, twisting to grin up at you with zero shame. "Why not? Life's too short not to ride at least one psychopath, right?"

The silence stretches.

"What?" She raises an eyebrow at your horror. "You wouldn't?"

"Jesus fuck no." You mime gagging. "You know he probably has some weird murder kink. Like, he'd probably want to chase you through a haunted house with a knife while dramatic music plays."

"Haunt play?" Her eyes go wide before she breaks into giggles. "That's... weirdly specific. But don't knock it till you try it, right?"

"Yun." You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. "He'd probably set up a whole haunted house just to get his rocks off."

"Okay but..." Yunjin props herself up on her elbows. "Haunted house but make it sexy? That's kind of genius."

"You're actually insane." You shove her shoulder, both of you dissolving into laughter. "I swear to god, if I ever hear spooky music from his tent—"

"You'll what, call the ghost police?"

Her laughter shakes your whole body, bright and infectious, and the small space of the tent makes this ridiculous conversation feel somehow safer, more intimate.

Just two girls discussing their terrible taste in men while hiding from a storm.

Even if one of those men happens to be Seoul's most notorious psychopath.

Yunjin flops back down, using your stomach as a pillow again. The drama's still playing on her phone, but you're too busy thinking about V's games to focus on whatever chaebol drama is unfolding now.

"For now," she sighs dreamily, "I'll stick to living through these ridiculous romances. Much safer than the real thing, right?"

You hum in agreement, watching raindrops race down the tent's surface.

"Sounds smart. But if you do decide to test out V's haunted house kink..." You poke her side. "I want every single detail. For science."

"Deal." Her giggle vibrates against your stomach. "But only if you keep saving me from his 'passionate teaching moments'. My knife skills are fine, thanks."

"Always."

The word comes out softer than intended, but you mean it. In Kkangpae, real friendship is rare as fuck. People either want to kill you, fuck you, or use you—sometimes all three.

But Yunjin? She's different.

And all the while; the rain keeps drumming steadily against the canvas, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green.

In here, none of that exists.

Not V's thorny games, not Jeon's hurricane, not the Council's secret meetings.

Just you and your best friend, safe and warm while the storm rages on.

For now, anyway. Tomorrow's another story.

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clancycatears · 3 days ago

Text

NSFW ALPHABET (Ghost ver.)

ghost masterlist - nsfw alphabet template

ghost's version of the nsfw alphabet! where we go through a multitude of sex topics from a-z to determine what a character is like in bed. :)

cw: MDNI (18+), written with m!, f!, and gn!reader in mind, degradation, meanie ghost, canon-typical swearing, ghost is kinky but not as bad as soap, brat & brat taming, he knows nothing about love (help him learn. he's hopeless), and he is ALSO a himbo lowkey.

a/n: oh dear. after months of fanfiction i think we all know what's coming. i also changed d from dirty secret to dirty talk. because dirty talk is awesome.

; 2.1k words.

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

Okay hear me out. Ghost is a mixed bag of a man when it comes to aftercare. He’s more of the hookup type, rather than being committed.

So if it’s a hookup, he doesn’t really offer aftercare, because he’s more interested in getting his dick wet. Maybe a bit of “you good?” talk (because he’s a rough guy) or pulling the sheets over you, but that’s it.

If it’s a deep, meaningful relationship, though—He’s treating you to everything you need! Soft coos of reassurance and warm cuddles are his specialty.

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

His favorite body part of his are definitely his hands. Strong, veiny, and deadly. His hands work like MAGIC. He can make you come several times JUST from them alone.

His favorite body part of yours is your throat. WITH his hands, he can wrap around it, squeeze a lil’, make you gasp and mewl how he likes it. Dude likes to leave lots of hickeys on it, too.

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

He doesn’t like his load going anywhere but inside you. It’s either he’s filling you up (whether it’s your mouth or your hole) or nothing. Lord have mercy, he fucking loves how you look with him dripping out of you.

D = Dirty Talk (are they mean? are they sweet? how do they talk to you while doing the do?)

Ghost talks DIRTY. You’d get some sweetness either before or after a round, but during the deed? He can be a meanie lowkey…

“Let ery’one hear how much y’fuckin’ love takin’ m’cock.”

"Swallow it all, or I'll have t’ force y’mouth open.”

"Why don’ y’be a good girl n’ suck m’cock?"

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

Ghost has lost count of how many bodies he has (his hookup streak is crazy). He’s experienced with everything when it comes to sex, but practically nothing when it comes to intimacy. He knows how to get to anybody. And watching you discover something new about yourself that he knew, and you didn't? Oh fuck, he wants another round.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

Prone bone is his primary. Not only can he hear everything, but he can hold your throat or have you in a (not painful!!!) chokehold while he’s literally fucking you dumb.

Doggy style is a close second. It’s classic, and he loves to mess with your hips or your ass. Hell, he’d curl his fingers in your hair just to shove your face into the pillows.

Mating press he doesn’t use very often, but he also likes it. Gets his cum nice n’ deep inside you—just how he likes it.

Overall, face up, ass down positions. Gets him off real good.

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

Not a goofy bone in his body. He’s so locked-in, it’s impressive. It’s not that he doesn’t have a sense of humor (because he really does!) he just doesn’t joke around when it comes to sex. Dude has all of his focus on you and how you’re making him feel.

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

To be honest? Ghost shaves a lot. Likes to keep a nicely-groomed body. The only hair you’d see on him would be on his arms. Dude is VERY hygienic. Could give less of a shit about your hair, though.

You'd occasionally find a little line up his happy trail, but he normally keeps it very smooth and tidy. He prefers hair on his muscles to accentuate them more.

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

Ghost is terrible when it comes to intimacy. He has no experience when it comes to love, since he's only used sex to cope or quell the horny beast inside him.

He's clear with communication, yes, but not clear at all when it comes to his romantic feelings. He keeps to himself when it comes to falling for someone.

Buuut, maybe one night when he's called you, asking you to come over, will he a blurt a "fuck, I love you" when he's slipping inside. When he's slow and sensual with it—rather than rough like he's been every other night—you'll know he's fallen hard.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off often, honestly. When he does, though, it's in front of you. He wants to watch your pretty little face contort with need as he strokes his hard, veiny cock that pulses anywhere but inside you. Once and a while, he'll go by himself, but prefers that a LOT more. What gets him going off while he's away is the picture of you he has set as his phone's lockscreen.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ghost is a very kinky fella. However, as I usually list this, I'll stick to just three that I bet would be his tops.

Brat and brat taming. Ghost loves a good challenge. Oh, you wanna tell him off and make yourself hard-to-get? He'll be proving to you that he'll always have more dominance over you when he's bending you over and growling: "What was that, love? Can't fuckin' talk now, eh? Too full o' my cock, hm?"

Breathplay. Holding your nose while you give him oral, giving you a tight hand necklace, or slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle you sets him OFF!!! He'll even be shoving your face into a pillow to watch you try and wail into the satin case.

Orgasm denial. This dude is edging you until you cry (add dacryphilia onto the list too, why not). Watching you unravel is satisfying, yes, but watching you beg for it while he keeps steering you there and back is getting him to that edge, too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Unlike most, he prefers smaller, enclosed places. The bedroom is nice, yeah, but he likes to feel big and in control. In closets, in the back of the car, and against the shower tiles. Knowing he's caging you in with his body while he fucks you, knowing you'd have to wiggle and squirm to escape him, makes him feel powerful.

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

He loves, loves, loves talking dirty. Mutually over text will have him hard hours before he even returns home for the day. Any little provocative text or action from you is going straight to his dick.

When he has his mask off, and you touch his face like it's a work of art, he's gonna be melting right into your fingertips. That's where you'll find him most vulnerable, revealing himself to you. Just loving what he hides from the rest of the world.

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

Despite his nature, he's heavy with consent. If you can't tell him you want him, he's turned off instantly. He wants equal yearning. He wants you both to want each other.

And also, no intoxication leading to sex. He wants to have you sober or nothing else. When you're intoxicated, it means no clear "yes" or "no" from you. And that alone is a "no" for him, whether or not you say "yes".

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

Not gonna lie, he prefers receiving. Doesn't mean he isn't good at going down (because he laps at you like a fucking thirsty dog)!!! He just loves watching your beady eyes look up at him from between his thighs, thick shaft practically choking you. What a bloody sight.

Giving him oral is where you get the most vocals out of him. He's groaning, gripping your hair to keep you in place, thrusting slightly with each slurp, tipping his head back, breath hitching when you swirl your tongue over his tip. God, it's heaven for him.

When he's going down on you, he's slow and deliberate. Fingers grazing your thighs as he makes slow work with you, wanting you to squirm and beg for more.

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

He loves to be rough and fast, holding your hips and dimpling the skin of your push ass as he rams into you from behind. WHEW!!! That guy can fuckin' destroy you.

However, sometimes he likes to draw it out. Watch you squirm, watch you deflate with overstimulation, watch you slowly lose your mind with just the smack of his hips. Watching you get cockdrunk is his favorite part.

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

Ghost is ALWAYS down for quickies. Given how often he wants to go at it, he'd be asking you first. You tell him you're down? Doesn't matter where you are, he's bending you over and taking you right there.

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

He sets close-knit boundaries—no considerable damage. Sure, he's rough with his hands, yes, but he'd never hurt you unless you consent at least three times.

Public sex? Absolutely, behind closed doors. He loves the noises you make, but he's having a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet (because trust me, it'll be hard to be quiet).

Either way. 100% a risk taker.

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

Two to three rounds. Dude has crazy good stamina, but not as much as Johnny. With how rough he usually goes, he's gonna need a minute to breathe in between rounds. After that, though, he's down to go again.

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

Ghost doesn't use toys. Why? Because you're his personal fleshlight. BUT!!! He loves to use your own toys on you. Anything that vibrates is going right to your clit/tip to stimulate you. He loves to have you squirming underneath him, knowing it's him doing this to you. He loves to be in control of your pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. As I said before, he's a whore when it comes to brat taming. Making his brat wither into a whining and desperate mess for him is what spurs him. What happened to all that bite you had in you? Looks like he ragged it out of you from his touching alone.

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

He fucking loves how loud you can be. But with himself—not so much. He grunts, yes, but doesn't moan very often. Maybe when he's coming and he's really feeling it, then you're getting a strained "fuck" from his lips. Sadly, not a whimperer.

W = Wildcard (a random headcanon for the character)

SFW headcanon—Ghost is all about acts of service. Despite the animal he can be in bed, he can be a big softie when he grows on you. Bringing you tea when you're sick, taking care of your tasks when you're overwhelmed, and making dinner more than you do every night.

NSFW headcanon—He loves watching you undress. Sexually or not. Watching you strip down in front of the shower? He's getting in there with you. Swapping into a new pair of clothes? He has his hands on your hips as you pull your shirt down. He loves you more when you're wearing nothing at all, but either way—his eyes are always lingering.

Topping is the only thing he knows—and the only thing he likes. Hard!dom every. Single. Time. Maybe you'll get some service!top sprinkled in there sometimes, but he's all about dominating.

Oh, and ass vs. tits? Simon's an ass guy all the way. He kneads those globes like a cat making biscuits.

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

This dude is all size AND girth. 6.3in (16cm) when hard and 3in (7.6cm) when flaccid. Very veiny and girthy right under the mushroomed tip. Uncircumcised. Fits nice n' snug.

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

He's yearning daily. Whether or not it's a hookup or a relationship, he wants you. Mission gone bad? He wants to get his dick wet. His recent wank didn't end with him finishing? He's going to you instead. Had a little quarrel with his teammate? He's letting you know he wants to let off some steam with you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ghost is quick to fall asleep. Hardly a smidge of aftercare when it comes to him. When it's casual, he isn't feeling it.

If he's committed, he's giving you the aftercare he knows you need. He'd still be a bit sluggish, but he knows it'd be rude to fuck your brains out and just pass out.

Afterwards, though, he's falling asleep curled next to you.

table of contents: Alejandro // Alex // Farah // Gaz // Ghost // Laswell // Nikolai // Price // Rudy // Soap // Valeria

taglist 🏷️ @amtu0401

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szariahwroteit · 2 days ago

Text

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 23

Kylian was used to being the one people waited on; as one of the brightest talents in football, he was accustomed to his career coming above all else. But where Giselle was concerned, he was happy to tag along, to be the one who waited on her.

With a well-deserved three-day break after a series of back-to-back matches, he found himself seated in a showroom in Italy, surrounded by heels, as Giselle and her friend and shoe designer Amina went through her upcoming collection, which she’d asked Giselle to be the face of.

They'd arrived in Milan earlier that morning, and instead of staying back at their hotel to rest and enjoy the amenities as she suggested, he chose to accompany Giselle to a fitting.

Kylian’s attention was pulled from his phone at the sound of a curtain being drawn, he lifted his head to find Giselle standing before him.

The sheer white babydoll dress she wore immediately stole Kylian's attention, causing him to drop his phone into his lap as he watched Giselle do a twirl for Amina.

Even though the dress was angelic in color, it left little to the imagination and was anything but innocent, paired with white open-toe heels that wrapped around her ankles.

Kylian's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Giselle, his gaze raking over her curves appreciatively. The dress clung to her body in all the right places, accentuating her figure and leaving little to the imagination. He felt a stirring of desire as he watched her twirl, the fabric of the dress fluttering around her thighs.

“You look perfect!” Amina gushed, her eyes sparkling as she took in her next season’s muse appreciatively.

Stepping down off the podium she stood on, Giselle clicked over to Kylian on her heels, blushing despite being the one in pursuit of his approval.

Kylian's eyes followed Giselle's every move as she approached him, his gaze lingering on the way the dress hugged her curves. He felt a surge of desire as she stood before him, her blush only serving to make her more alluring.

"Wow," he breathed, his voice low and husky. "You look breathtaking, Giselle. That dress is... it's beautiful." He stood up, closing the distance between them and trailing a finger along her bare shoulder. "I think Amina has outdone herself."

Giselle shivered at his touch, leaning into his hand. "You like it?" she asked, searching his face for confirmation.

“You look incredible, ma belle,” he whispered, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and desire. Kylian’s gaze held hers as he stepped closer, their bodies almost touching. The air around them thickened with an unspoken tension, heightened by the intimacy of the moment.

Giselle swallowed, the heat radiating off him making her pulse quicken. “I wanted your opinion. I mean, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks because Amina’s decision is final but…” she trailed off, her voice soft as she found comfort in his unwavering gaze.

Kylian tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips. “I am flattered that you wanted my approval, but you know as well as I do you look perfect in everything.”

“I’m not that conceited,” Giselle interjected, a light laugh escaping her lips, though her cheeks flushed even deeper at his compliment. It felt thrilling to stand there, so close to him, feeling the warmth and electricity in the air.

“Well, maybe not, but you should be,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, creating a moment of intimacy between them that made her heart race.

Giselle's breath hitched, and she felt a flutter in her stomach. "Thank you for being here, Kylian. It means a lot to me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

As one of the biggest stars in football and one of the most recognizable men in the world, he truly could have been anywhere else in the world enjoying a few days away from his competitive lifestyle. The fact that he had chosen to spend it with her while she worked was flattering beyond any words she had.

The rest of the fitting followed in the same fashion, giselle tried on the looks that had been chosen for her and Kylian gave his opinion of each outfit, while trying to conceal the arousal tenting in his pants in the presence of Amina.

By the end of the fitting Kylian was hanging on by a thread, he had spent the afternoon restraining himself from pulling giselle into her dressing room and having his way with her.

The evening had begun to settle by the time they were ready to leave Amina’s showroom and instead of heading back to their hotel, Giselle and Kylian were in the mood for authentic Italian cuisine.

Barring two other couples who paid them no mind as they entered the quaint family restaurant, and a few lingering staff members, it was quiet, and they were shown to a table almost instantly.

As they settled into their cozy corner table, Kylian couldn't help but admire how Giselle’s smile lit up the dimly lit room. The candlestick flickered warmly between them, casting soft shadows on her face and highlighting the glimmer in her eyes. He felt a wave of affection wash over him, intertwined with an undeniable desire stirred by the events of the day.

“I enjoyed today,” Kylian smiled softly, reaching across the table to take Giselle’s hand into his as he gazed into her eyes. “Thank you.”

It was different from what he was used to, but nonetheless, Kylian found himself enjoying every moment they had spent together thus far in Milan.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Giselle explained. “You’re easily one of the busiest men in the world and you make time for me.”

Kylian's fingers intertwined with Giselle's, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. "Being with you is a priority, Giselle. My career is important, yes, but you... you're something special." His voice was low and sincere, his gaze never leaving hers.

The waiter arrived to take their order, breaking the momentary spell. As they browsed the menu, Kylian couldn't help but steal glances at Giselle, admiring the way the candlelight danced on her features. Once their orders were placed, he turned his attention back to her.

"So, tell me more about this campaign,” he said, leaning forward slightly, genuinely interested in her work.

Giselle's eyes sparkled with excitement as she began to explain the details of the campaign, her passion for her craft evident in every word. Kylian listened attentively, captivated by her enthusiasm and the way her face lit up as she spoke.

She had never been with someone who supported her unconditionally, she couldn't think of a single time when her ex had ever taken the time to accompany her to work, regardless if he was busy or not.

“Who you are is so different from who I thought you were when we first met,” Giselle continued, her voice softening as she reminisced about their first encounter. “I was intimidated by the idea of you, Kylian. The star footballer, the celebrated athlete. I thought you'd be cocky, a little arrogant, too wrapped up in your world to care about anyone else.”

Kylian chuckled lightly, a slight blush creeping to his cheeks at her admission. “I guess I have that aura. But once you get to know me, you realize I'm just a guy who loves the game and enjoys the little things in life. Like spending time with you.”

Giselle's heart fluttered at his honesty. “I never would have guessed that you could be so... grounded. You somehow manage to be both incredibly successful and incredibly sweet.”

Their eyes locked, and that familiar tension crept back in, electrifying the air between them. “I guess it helps when you’re around someone like you,” he replied, his voice low and intimate.

“Stop it,” Giselle blushed, breaking eye contact with him.

Kylian smiled, relishing her reaction, but he couldn't resist pushing a little further. “Why should I? You deserve to hear it, especially after today. You impressed everyone with your grace and charm.”

Giselle shook her head, a smile dancing on her lips as she looked back at him. “You’re just saying that because you’re here with me. You’ve seen me at my worst, Kylian. I’m not always so composed.”

“But that’s what makes you real,” he countered, leaning in even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like seeing the different sides of you—the confident model, the passionate artist, and yes, even the flustered woman standing before me now. It’s all part of you, and it’s beautiful.”

Her heart raced as his words hung in the air, their closeness creating a bubble that felt both electric and fragile. “Kylian…” she started, her voice trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“I mean it, Giselle,” he interrupted gently, not breaking eye contact. “Every layer just makes me want to know you more.”

Giselle felt a warmth spread through her, a mix of flattery and something deeper that both thrilled and scared her. “You know how to make me feel special,” she said softly.

“That's because you are,” he replied with a smirk. The waiter returned with their drinks, snapping them both back to reality, but Kylian didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he held it firmly, their palms pressed together on the table, letting the warmth pass between them.

As they sipped their drinks and chatted about light-hearted topics, Kylian’s mind wandered back to the fitting, recalling the way the dress had hugged every curve, how radiant she looked when she twirled, and the way his heart raced each time she came near.

When their food arrived, Kylian waved the waiter off, his gaze remaining locked on Giselle. “Let’s eat, and afterward… we can see where the night takes us.”

Giselle nodded, unable to hide her delight. “I’d love that, although there is something that has been on my mind since we arrived in Milan.”

“What is it?” Kylian asked curiously.

“The bed in our hotel suite,” she began, a teasing glint in her eye. “Since the second I saw it, I have been thinking about tying you to it.”

“Seriously?” Kylian questioned, his voice laced with intrigue and amusement.

“Absolutely,” Giselle replied, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I mean, you would look rather good, all tied up and at my mercy.”

Kylian raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Is that so? You think you can handle me?” The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the warmth in his gaze intensified.

Giselle leaned forward, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’d like to think so.” She could feel the air between them crackle with chemistry, the tension building as they both reveled in the bold flirtation.

“Careful,” Kylian teased back, leaning in closer, barely inches away from her face. “You might just awaken the beast.” There was mischief in his eyes, but it was tinged with longing, an unspoken promise hanging in the air.

Giselle bit her lip, her instincts urging her to close that final distance. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she replied, letting the teasing linger between them before taking a sip of wine to cool the heat rising in her cheeks.

With every playful exchange, Kylian found his desire for her growing stronger. The way she looked at him, the way her laughter danced in the air, it all pulled him closer and deeper into wanting more.

As they enjoyed their meal, their conversation teetered between light-hearted jokes and deeper, more intimate revelations. They shared stories of their childhoods, their goals, and their fears, each moment bringing them closer and forging an undeniable connection.

After they finished eating, Kylian made a quick call to his driver to let him know they were ready to be taken back to their hotel, ready to be alone with one another.

“Are you going to let me tie you up and use you?” Giselle smirked, gazing up at Kylian through her lashes as she wrapped her arms around his waist, finally locked behind the privacy of their suite door.

Kylian felt his pulse quicken at her bold words, the invitation laced with a tantalizing mixture of innocence and desire. The atmosphere in the room grew thick with anticipation as he stepped closer to Giselle, the playful challenge hanging between them like a suspended thread waiting to be pulled.

“Use me, huh?” he replied, his voice low and teasing, every word dripping with flirtation. The playful glint in her eyes was infectious, and he found himself drawn to her as if an invisible force beckoned him closer. “And what exactly do you have in mind, ma belle?”

Giselle took a step back, playfully teasing him further. "You'll just have to wait and see," she said, a sly smile dancing on her lips as she began to slowly move towards the elegantly furnished bed in the center of the suite. The soft, inviting fabric of the comforter beckoned as she leaned back against it, her dress lifting slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her thigh.

Kylian inhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto her as the air around them crackled with electricity. Every instinct urged him toward her, to answer the vivid invitation her posture offered. But he relished the game they were playing, his heart racing with uncertainty and excitement.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, stepping toward her with a confident sway.

Giselle raised an eyebrow, her playful smirk growing. “Maybe, but for now I need you to get undressed while I go and change,” she explained.

She stood up straight, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she headed toward the adjoining bathroom, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in the luxurious space. Kylian's heart raced at the mere thought of what was to come, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through him.

He wasted no time shedding his clothing, the fabric falling away to reveal his toned physique. He caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror, a wave of confidence washing over him. He could already feel the magnetic pull of Giselle’s presence even behind the closed door.

He approached the bed, the plush comforter inviting him to let go of the tension that had built up throughout the day. Kylian arranged himself casually on the edge, a playful smirk on his lips as he contemplated the unfolding scene. The air was thick with anticipation, almost as if it held a promise of something exhilarating yet tender.

A few moments later, the bathroom door swung open, and Kylian's breath caught in his throat. Giselle emerged dressed in nothing but a pair of crotchless tights designed to give the illusion of a garter belt and stockings.

“Fuck,” Kylian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in the sight before him. The sheer fabric accentuated her curves while leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him wild. It was the perfect blend of daring and seductive, the embodiment of desire.

Giselle sauntered toward him with a confidence that made his heart race, the way she moved so gracefully heightened the intimate atmosphere surrounding them. Her gaze was locked onto his, the intensity of her eyes igniting a fire within him, leaving no doubt in his mind about the night that lay ahead.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” she teased, her voice sultry and inviting, the corners of her mouth curving into a playful smile.

He swallowed hard, nodding, unable to find his voice as he drank in the sight of her. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he managed to say, his tone deep and filled with longing. The tension in the room skyrocketed, feeling almost palpable as they locked eyes, both recognizing the thrilling stakes of their playful game.

“Then let’s see how far we can take this,” Giselle replied, biting her lip in anticipation. She stepped closer, her hands gliding over her curves.

Kylian couldn’t help but smirk at her boldness, the tension in his body intensifying as she approached him holding two strips of what looked to be silk in her hands.

Without the need for any instruction, Kylian climbed onto the bed, laying in the center as he gave himself over to giselle, allowing her to bind his wrist to the posters of the bed one by one.

“How does it feel?” Giselle asked curiously as she climbed off of the bed to take a step back and inspect her work.

Kylian tested the restraints, finding them snug but not overly tight, a sensation both foreign and exhilarating. Something was intoxicating about surrendering control, especially to someone who inspired such desire within him. He looked up at Giselle, meeting her gaze with a mix of excitement and eagerness.

“Feels... good,” he admitted, his voice a low growl. He had never anticipated that being tied up could evoke such a thrill, but with her, everything felt heightened.

“I want to feel you,” Kylian groaned, his wrists straining against the silk ropes as he attempted to reach for Giselle, unable to resist as she stood before him in nothing but a pair of crotchless tights.

Giselle smirked, slowly trailing a finger down Kylian's chest, teasing him mercilessly. "You want to feel me?" she purred, leaning in close so her breath tickled his ear.

"But where's the fun in that?" She stepped back, admiring the sight of him bound and helpless. "Tell me, Kylian, how bad do you want me right now? How desperate are you to toss me on the bed and fuck the shit out of me?" Her eyes glinted with mischief and desire as she awaited his response.

Kylian's chest heaved with ragged breaths, his muscles taut beneath his skin as he struggled against the restraints. The silk ropes bit into his wrists, a delicious reminder of his helplessness. His eyes darkened with lust, pupils dilating as he drank in the sight of Giselle's nearly naked form.

"So fucking desperate," he growled, voice low and husky with need. "I want to grab your hips and bury myself inside you until my name is the only word you can remember."

He tugged at the ropes, the fabric creaking under the strain. "I want to feel your tight little pussy squeezing my cock, milking me dry. I want to fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling me for days."

Kylian's hips bucked involuntarily, his erection straining against the confines of his boxers. "Come here," he demanded, tone commanding despite his predicament. "Let me show you just how badly I want you."

Climbing onto the bed, giselle crawled between Kylian's spread legs settling there as she reached to palm him through his boxers.

Kylian was completely in awe as he watched Giselle, the tights painted onto her curves, stopping at the crease of her thigh to showcase the tantalizing curve of her hips. The way the fabric hugged her body made it seem as though she was crafted from pure temptation itself, every inch a work of art designed to tease and incite desire.

As her fingers expertly teased him through the soft fabric, Kylian's breath hitched, his body responding eagerly to her touch. He watched as her hand slipped into his boxers pulling him free, his hardness springing forth, straining for her. A low growl escaped his throat, raw need flooding his system as he met her sultry gaze.

Giselle grinned, her fingers wrapping around him, slowly stroking him while maintaining that maddening amount of pressure. "Is this what you wanted?" she teased, her voice dripping with seduction.

Kylian's grip on the ropes tightened, his heart racing as he fought to maintain control over his own body. "You know it is," he gasped, struggling against the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to consume him.

With a playful smirk, Giselle leaned closer, her breath hot against his skin. "Patience, baby," she whispered, her thumb brushing the tip of his cock, causing him to shudder.

Kylian could hardly comprehend the mix of frustration and arousal that surged through him, his body betraying him as he writhed under her touch.

“I can't believe this fits in me,” Giselle gasped, a moan dripping from her lips as she pressed him up against her stomach. “And I take every inch deep inside me because I'm your good girl.”

“Sit on it,” Kylian growled, torn between the thrill of submission and the need to grab hold of her hips and fuck her until she couldn't remember her name.

Giselle's eyes flashed with excitement at Kylian's command, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She enjoyed pushing his buttons, teasing him until he was a mess of desperation and desire

“Can I put it in my mouth first?” she asked, slowly stroking him in her warm palm, salivating as she watched a bead of precum form on the bulbous tip of his cock.

Kylian's breath hitched at her words, the promise of her warm mouth sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. He felt the heat of her gaze, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief and hunger as she toyed with him. "Suck it," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Giselle's grin widened, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched Kylian's resolve crumble under her teasing. She loved the power she held over him, the way his body responded eagerly to her every touch.

Slowly, she sank to her knees between his spread legs, her hands trailing up his muscular thighs. She leaned in, her breath hot against his skin as she nuzzled his hardness, inhaling his musky scent.

"Baby, you smell so good," she murmured, her tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up the underside of his shaft. Kylian shuddered, his hips jerking involuntarily as she tasted him.

Giselle hummed in appreciation, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock and sucking gently. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive tip, savoring the salty taste of his precum.

"Fuck, Giselle," Kylian groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as Giselle took him deeper, her lips stretching around his thick girth. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking him with slow, deliberate movements that drove him wild.

His fingers curled into fists, the silk ropes biting into his wrists as he fought the urge to grab her hair and guide her movements. Instead, he focused on the sensation of her hot mouth, the way her tongue danced along his length, coaxing him closer to the edge.

Giselle's eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, a wicked glint in their depths as she pulled back, releasing him with a wet pop. "Tell me what you want to do to me.”

Kylian's chest heaved, his muscles straining against the silk ropes as he struggled to maintain control. Giselle's teasing was driving him to the brink of madness, his body aching with a desperate need for release.

"I want to fuck your face," he growled, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to grab your hair and fuck your mouth until you're gagging on my cock."

Giselle's eyes widened, a shiver of excitement running down her spine at his crude words. She loved it when Kylian talked dirty to her, his dominant side emerging in the heat of the moment.

"But your hands are tied," she challenged, her gaze locked onto his.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and determination at Giselle's teasing words. Despite his restraints, he refused to back down from the challenge. A wicked grin spread across his face as an idea formed in his mind.

"Use your hands," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority. "Hold my cock steady while I fuck your pretty little mouth."

Giselle's breath hitched at his bold statement, her core clenching with anticipation. She loved it when Kylian took charge, his dominant nature igniting a fire within her.

Without hesitation, she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, gripping him tightly as she leaned in. She parted her lips, her tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock.

Kylian's hips jerked forward, seeking more of her touch. "That's it," he groaned, his eyes locked onto the sight of her mouth hovering just inches from his hardness. "Now open up and take it."

Giselle obeyed, her lips stretching wide as she enveloped the head of his cock. She sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip as she savored his taste.

Slowly, she took him deeper, inch by inch, until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, tears springing to her eyes as she struggled to accommodate his size. But she didn't pull away, instead relaxing her jaw and breathing through her nose.

"That's my good girl," Kylian praised, his voice thick with desire. "Hold still and let me use your mouth."

With that, he began to thrust his hips, sliding his cock in and out of Giselle's warm, wet mouth. He started slowly, giving her time to adjust, but soon picked up the pace, fucking her face with increasing urgency.

Giselle moaned around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through Kylian's body. She kept her hand wrapped tightly around the base of his shaft, ensuring he stayed deep in her throat with each thrust.

Kylian was in awe as giselle lifted her mouth from his cock, teary-eyed and covered in saliva as she used the back of her wipe her mouth.

Kylian's eyes darkened with lust as he watched Giselle wipe her mouth, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their intense encounter. The sight of her, disheveled and breathless, only served to fuel his desire.

"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Come and sit on my face. Now."

Giselle's heart raced at the urgency in Kylian's tone. She crawled up his body, forcing a moan from him as he felt the wet warmth of her pussy against his stomach as she crawled up his body.

Kylian wanted to badly grip her flesh, to slap her ass as a means of asserting his dominance, but the silk held him bound, reminding him of his helplessness at this moment. The heat radiating from her core as she positioned herself above his face was intoxicating, and he could hardly restrain himself.

The sight of her spread open over his face was almost too much to bear. He could feel the anticipation building within him, stirring a primal desire that pulsed like a living thing beneath his skin. Kylian's breath quickened as he marveled at the way Giselle's wetness glistened, the fabric of her tights accentuating every curve of her body.

"I want to taste you," he moaned, his voice thick with desperation, the intensity of his need palpable. "I want to feel your warmth surrounding me as I lose myself in you."

Giselle smirked, giving him a teasing wiggle as she lowered herself onto his mouth, a hiss tumbling from her lips as she lifted herself off of him to look down into his eyes.

Kylian's heart raced as Giselle positioned herself above him, her eyes locked onto his with a mixture of dominance and desire. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, the crotchless tights leaving nothing to the imagination. Every inch of her body seemed to beckon him closer, igniting the primal hunger that simmered just beneath his skin.

“I want to touch you,” Kylian groaned, itching to wrap his hands around her waist and pull her down onto his lips so he could feast.

Giselle's eyes flashed with mischief as she gazed down at Kylian, his desperation evident in the way his muscles strained against the silk ropes and the raw need in his voice. She loved having this power over him, loved seeing the usually confident and dominant football star reduced to a begging, pleading mess.

"Not yet," she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

With that, she slowly lowered herself onto his face, her wet heat pressing against his lips. Kylian moaned, his tongue darting out to taste her, savoring the sweet flavor of her arousal.

Giselle gasped as she felt his tongue part her folds, her hips jerking involuntarily at the sudden contact. She gripped the headboard for support, her knuckles turning white as she fought to maintain control.

"Fuck, Kylian," she moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure as he licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh. "You feel so good."

Kylian growled against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her core. He lapped at her eagerly, his tongue swirling around her clit before plunging deep inside her. Giselle rocked her hips, grinding against his mouth as she chased her impending orgasm.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, her head falling back in bliss. "Just like that, baby. Make me come all over your face."

Kylian redoubled his efforts, his tongue working feverishly to bring her to the brink. He could feel her thighs trembling, her body tensing as she climbed higher and higher.

With a final, hard suck on her clit, Giselle shattered, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She screamed his name, her juices flooding his senses as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure.

Kylian drank her in, savoring every drop of her.

Giselle collapsed onto the bed beside Kylian, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes heavylidded and satisfied.

"Untie me," Kylian ordered, his eyes intense and as they met Giselle’s.

Giselle's heart raced at the intensity of Kylian's gaze, the raw dominance radiating from him only heightening her desire. She relished the way he commanded her, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins.

"You're going to have to earn it," she teased, a playful smile curling her lips, as she reached for his wrists to untie them.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and excitement at Giselle's teasing words. He loved her playful defiance, the way she challenged him and pushed his limits. As she leaned in to untie his wrists, he couldn't help but imagine all the ways he would repay her for her teasing once he was free.

The silk ropes fell away, and Kylian's hands were finally free. He sat up, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he stretched, relishing the feeling of being unbound. His gaze locked onto Giselle, a predatory glint in his eyes.

"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "It's time for you to earn your reward."

Giselle's breath hitched at the authority in Kylian's tone, her body responding eagerly to his dominant side. She crawled towards him, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring the anticipation that built with each inch.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as she settled between his legs.

“Whatever I fucking say,” Kylian drawled, his words dripping with lust as he landed a slap on Giselle's ass, still reeling from being restrained against his body's natural reaction to her.

Kylian's eyes darkened with desire as Giselle settled between his legs, her submissive posture igniting a fire within him. He loved the way she yielded to his dominance, her body trembling with anticipation as she awaited his command.

"You're going to sit on my cock," he ordered, his voice firm and unyielding. "And ride me until I say otherwise.”

Giselle's eyes widened at Kylian's commanding words, a shiver of excitement running down her spine. She loved the way he took charge, his dominant nature igniting a fire within her. Without hesitation, she reached for his hardness, guiding him to her entrance.

"Fuck, baby." she purred, her voice dripping with seduction as she slowly sank onto him, inch by inch.

Kylian's breath hitched as he felt Giselle's warmth enveloping him, her tight walls squeezing him deliciously. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fought the urge to thrust up into her and ruin her from beneath.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as she took him to the hilt before they snapped open again.

“Your pussy is so perfect, I had to make it mine.” Kylian continued, his hand ghosting over her taught stomach and through the valley of her breasts before coming to wrap around her throat.

He wasn't naive and knew that no human came without fault, but giselle was as close to perfection as he'd ever come. Aesthetically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually, she was perfect to him: and she was all his.

Giselle gasped as Kylian's hand wrapped around her throat, the pressure just enough to make her feel owned, and possessed. His words sent a thrill through her, the possessiveness in his tone making her feel cherished and desired. She began to move, her hips rolling in slow, sensual circles as she rode him.

"That's right," Kylian praised, his voice husky with desire. "Take what you need from me. Fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are."

His words were crude, but Giselle reveled in them, the degradation only serving to heighten her arousal. She picked up the pace, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased her pleasure.

"Yes, Kylian," she moaned, her head falling back in ecstasy. "Your cock feels so good inside me. I love being yours."

In one swift motion, Kylian flipped them, his hands gripping her thighs as he spread her open beneath him, ready to consume her whole.

Being completely owned by her was fun and something he wanted to experience again, but nothing came close to this.

Watching as she came apart beneath him, the faces she made as she gave herself over to pleasure, the way her body bent to his will, it was something he craved.

Kylian's hips snapped forward, driving his thick length deep into Giselle's welcoming heat. He set a punishing pace, his body slamming into hers with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Baby, yes!" Giselle cried out, her nails digging into Kylian's back as she clung to him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. "Harder, baby! Fuck me harder, I'm yours!"

Kylian growled, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Giselle's neck as he obliged her demand. He pounded into her mercilessly, his hips moving like a piston as he chased their release. The bed trembled beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

"So fucking tight," Kylian's eyes rolled back, his hips stuttering as Giselle's tight walls clenched around him. "Shit, baby," he groaned, his voice strained. "You're gonna make me cum."

Giselle's nails raked down Kylian's back, leaving red welts in their wake. "Cum inside me," she demanded, her voice husky with desire. "Fill me up, I want you."

Kylian's grip on Giselle's hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slammed into her one final time. With a roar, he buried himself balls deep, his cock pulsating as he emptied himself inside her.

Kylian's body shuddered as he came, his release seeming endless as he spilled himself into Giselle's welcoming heat. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Giselle wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as they basked in the afterglow of their intense lovemaking. She pressed soft kisses to his sweat-dampened skin, murmuring words of affection and praise.

"That was perfect," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. "You're so perfect, Kylian."

Kylian lifted his head, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he gazed down at Giselle. "You're the amazing one," he countered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."

He rolled onto his side, pulling Giselle with him so that they faced each other.

“Happy to be of service,” she blushed, pushing her face into the crease of his neck, humming as she peppered kisses along his warm flesh.

“Baby, look at me,” Kylian whispered, gently tilting her chin upward so their eyes met. The intimacy of the moment was electric, the soft glow from the bedside lamp bathing them in warmth.

In an instant, the words he had yet to say became nonexistent as the look in her eyes left him speechless.

The connection between them deepened, an unspoken bond tightening with every passing moment. Kylian's heart thundered in his chest as he gazed into Giselle's eyes, the intensity of their shared experience creating a powerful, almost magical atmosphere.

"You mean everything to me, Giselle," he murmured, his voice steady and sincere as he spoke the truth that had been resonating within him. "I know we come from different worlds, but with you, I feel whole. You challenge me, inspire me... you make me want to be better."

Giselle's breath caught at his confession, the weight of his words wrapping around her like a warm embrace. Her heart swelled with emotion as she searched his eyes, finding vulnerability and sincerity that made her feel cherished.

“Likewise,” she breathed out, her voice barely above a breath.

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mocchiixxx · 22 hours ago

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Seventeen's 95z Yandere One-Shot Trilogy # | 1: Mine First

Genre: Dark Yandere, Psychological Thriller, Twisted Romance

Choi Seungcheol | Scoups x Famous Actress Reader

Inspo Lyric: “Getting closer, I’m coming for you…”

Summary: You were never his. But he made sure you’d never belong to anyone else. A rising actress caught in the spotlight, until Choi Seungcheol, the man who’s always watched from the shadows, finally steps in. He doesn’t want fame. He wants you. And now that he has you locked away where the world can’t touch you? You’ll learn to love him. Because in his world... You were his first. And his only.

🍒Trilogy#1 • 😇Trilogy#2 • 🦌 Trilogy#3

You were never his.

But he made sure you’d never be anyone else’s either.

You were on top of the world.

Rising actress. Every endorsement, every spotlight, every envious eye was on you. And you should’ve felt untouchable.

But that feeling of being watched?

It never left.

Every red carpet felt like a trap. Every script, somehow twisted to reflect your life.

And when you opened your newest project folder, you froze. The male lead’s character?

Choi Seungcheol.

Written exactly like him.

You met him once, briefly, years ago. A casting panelist. Quiet, intense. Gave you a look that felt like a cage.

He never spoke then.

But you remembered the weight of his stare. You didn’t know he remembered everything.

The way your hand trembled during your audition. The way you smiled too politely. The way your lips shaped his name when you read your lines.

Now, he stands in your dressing room. Wearing black. Leather gloves. No smile.

“You're overworking yourself,” he says casually. Like he belongs here. Like you invited him in.

“I’m here to bring you home.”

You choke back a scream.

“You’re crazy— what the hell are you doing here—”

“Shhh.” He grabs your wrist. Not harshly. Not gently either. Enough to remind you that strength is on his side.

“I warned you before. This industry eats people like you alive.”

You try to pull back, desperately.

“You’re not my guardian.”

His eyes flash.

“No. I’m your owner.”

They find your phone in a trash can outside the building.

The press is told you’re on a health hiatus.

The world waits. But you’ve already vanished.

Because when Seungcheol said home, he meant the glass-walled cabin in the forest.

Every inch monitored.

Every door locked.

Every camera pointed at you.

You break the first week. Scream. Fight. Scratch.

He lets you.

Doesn’t flinch when you throw a chair. Only watches. Silent. Calm.

And when you collapse on the floor, shaking, he crouches beside you.

“You’re safe now.” His hands stroke your hair.

“No more lies. No more pretending. Just you and me.”

You try to hate him. You do hate him.

But hate means thinking about him. And that’s what he wants.

He breaks you down with routine. Tea exactly how you like it. Scripts on the table, roles you didn’t even audition for, but somehow he got them for you.

“I’m the reason they hired you,” he whispers once in the dark. “I’ve always been the reason.”

The worst part?

You believe him.

Months pass. Or maybe weeks. Time doesn’t work right here.

He kisses you one night, and you don’t pull away. Your body is shaking... but your lips part anyway.

And when he presses your back against the glass, moonlight making your outline visible from the outside world you can no longer reach, he tells you:

“You were always meant to be mine first.”

You shiver.

“I won’t share you. Not with fans. Not with the world. Not even with the other two who think they love you.”

You blink.

“What?”

He just smirks.

“They're getting closer. But I’ll always be ahead of them.”

He lifts your chin.

“Because unlike them, I already have you.”

You don't scream anymore.

You don’t cry.

You sit beside him at the window, hands intertwined, watching the world fade like a bad dream.

He kisses the side of your head and whispers:

“Say it.”

And for the first time—

“I’m yours, Seungcheol.”

He smiles.

A victory carved in obsession.

END. (But the others are getting closer.)

A/N: Hii! To the one who requested this, your request inbox vanished but luckily I remember the theme of your request so here it is. I hope this gets to you and hope you like this. Jeonghan and Joshua's are coming soon so stay tuned! Good day/ afternoon/night!

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postcardsfromheapside · 1 day ago

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When you complain "if only X character had writers who loved them," what do you mean?

Like what you do actually mean.

I'm about to go on a rant about a particular character I see this about MOST, but this question is definitely not limited to him - I've seen it about multiple characters.

What is it you want from Anders and the writers. Because what it feels like from the posts where I see this phrase, is that people wanted Anders to be avenged in DA:I, or even Veilguard - for some of the characters to admit that maybe he was correct. Or maybe for there to be codex entries, SOMETHING that would hint that the mad apostate who blew up the chantry was justified.

Except Dragon Age isn't like that.

This entire series is about people who do awful things because they think they had a reason to do them, and sometimes those awful acts are completely understandable and maybe you can even justify them in context, but that in no way means that the in-world characters *have* to forgive anyone for anything, and the writers don't have to write them that way, no matter how they feel about the character.

(I already have heard shitty things about Anders' writer, so before you @ me, please know, I'm composing this A of all, already understanding that context and B, also knowing that sometimes writers create characters who give offense on purpose, and that it's okay to like those characters without justifying their actions. Solas, anyone?)

It's actually really frustrating as someone who is an Anders fan to see people whine "oh, if only he had a writer who loved him" as if he isn't a well-written character.

The man is obsessive, annoyingly focused on his goals, constantly leaving bits of his unwanted manifesto everywhere. He's shitty to Fenris (although Fenris starts a lot of it and gives as good as he gets), and he probably deserved the moniker Broody as much as Fenris did. He's harsh to Merrill and quite often an unprompted asshole to Aveline. He's also incredibly kind and compassionate, and really does spend almost all of his free time living his truth: trying to save mages from terrible treatment which is only growing worse - most of which we do not see on-screen so shallow viewing doesn't make it seem quite as bad as he claims. He also freely gives of his healing talents, regardless of who comes asking, at great personal risk. Whatever you say about him, you can't claim he doesn't live what he says he believes. And then there's the fact that he's actually quite funny, and when his "moods" aren't on him, his banter with Varric and Merrill especially is very cute, hinting that there's a different person inside of him, had he not gone through everything he had since Awakening (maybe even before). If you romance him, he's passionate and caring and weirdly funny with Hawke as well, two freaks who "get" each other.

Strange that I've managed to pull all of this out of someone who apparently the writers "didn't love", this rounded character who has multiple facets to him.

No one in DA:I is required to forgive Anders, regardless of which storyline you take. Varric sees him as the man who blew up a portion of "his" beloved city, who got a LOT of people killed, and maybe effectively exiled his friend. Cassandra and Leliana, for all their wishes to reform the chantry, still believe in the chantry as an institution. Vivienne still believes in the circles. Solas doesn't give a flying fuck about that guy - mage freedom isn't really on his mind, except in that he's pretending to be an apostate until he sheds his disguise. Who were you expecting to exonerate Anders, exactly, with their own limited perspectives?

To be honest, I wouldn't have forgiven him either, except in that I too have lived in a world where people's rights were slowly being stripped away by an unempathetic crazy person and the governing body that could have stopped the clown in office collectively sat back and in the end did fuck all about it.

You're meant to think about these things, just like you're meant to think about the stuff going on in Veilguard on which people have been posting metas. Is Bioware ham fisted at this commentary? 100% But it's there. Otherwise I wouldn't have seen so many good character analyses of Anders (and other characters I've seen this complaint about).

"If only he had writers who loved him" my sibling in Thedas they did their job, you're out here on this cloutless website crying into the void about your favorite little guy. Now go figure out why you need him to be a hero within the story itself, instead of him existing as he is and you thinking about how many people have flawed or shaded perspectives about the people who try, in different and sometimes awful ways, to change history.

#heapside kvetching #anders #da2 #dragon age #this is what happens when my work internet goes down

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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❤ The Language of Flowers | 014

❤ | Your options shall be: Sunday, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Veritas Ratio, Boothill, Jing Yuan, Blade, Phaimon, Mydei or Moze. Whoever you think suits this prompt.

❤ | Flower & it's definition: Cactus flower | symbolize Endurance, Protection, Love, Resilience. In a general sense. However, each colour can vary it's meaning!

- Yellow: Represents heat, security, and endurance - Red: Represents love - White: Represents endurance - Pink: Represents spontaneity, gentle love, femininity, and thoughtfulness

The Language of Flowers

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Light Angst, Character Development, Symbolism, Tender Moments, Emotional Connection, Hurt/Comfort, Personal Growth, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Mild language, Mild references to past trauma, Mild violence (?).

The wind swept across the barren, desolate landscape as Boothill stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, his mechanical body still but ever alert. His eyes scanned the horizon. A soft sound reached his ears, and he turned to see you walking towards him, holding a cactus flower in your hands. The bright red petals stood out against the harshness of the desert.

"You got me one of these, huh?" Boothill grunted, his voice low and rough, as if the idea of something delicate in such a desolate place was almost amusing. But as you extended the cactus flower toward him, his sharp eyes softened, though he kept his usual stoic demeanor.

"You remind me of this flower," you said quietly, "Enduring, strong, and... full of love."

Boothill’s fingers brushed over the red petals, and for a moment, he couldn’t quite explain the warmth that settled in his chest. "Love," he muttered, looking down at the flower. "Never thought I’d see the day I'd hear it in the same breath as me."

You smiled softly, understanding the weight of his words. "The cactus flower survives against all odds," you said, stepping closer. "Just like you. It's a symbol of love that endures through everything. No matter how tough the road ahead, it's a reminder that love... real love... never fades."

Boothill remained silent for a long while, before looking back at you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I don't need anything more than this," he murmured, finally taking the flower from your hand. "But I won't forget it. You got my word."

With that, he tucked the cactus flower into the lapel of his jacket, where it would remain—a symbol of enduring love, something even the harshest of landscapes couldn’t erase.

A soft breeze blew through the halls of the Luofu, fluttering the hem of your attire as you approached the large balcony where Jing Yuan stood. His figure looked even more imposing in the late afternoon light, his long hair catching the glow of the sun as his eyes turned toward you.

“I see you’ve found something unusual,” he said with a warm, teasing smile, his voice smooth, like silk. You held the cactus flower in your hand, the delicate pink petals contrasting with his military attire.

You smiled, approaching him and offering him the flower. “It’s for you,” you said, “A symbol of spontaneity, gentleness, and thoughtfulness. I thought it reminded me of you.”

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, the sound resonating with a quiet authority. “Me? Spontaneous and gentle?” His eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a softness in them that hinted at the deeper truth behind your words. “I suppose I do have my moments of light-heartedness, though I wouldn’t have pegged myself as the pink cactus flower type.”

You laughed gently, feeling the comfort of his presence, the way he always made you feel safe yet free to be yourself. “It’s more about the thoughtfulness," you said, your voice softening. "You take care of everything around you with such tenderness, even if you don’t always show it. It's why I wanted to give this to you."

His eyes softened for a moment as he took the flower from your hand, running his fingers over the petals. “You always manage to see through me,” he said quietly, his voice almost wistful. “But I am thankful, truly. There’s no one else I would trust with this kind of gesture.”

As he tucked the cactus flower into his robes, the moment lingered between you both, a silent understanding passed without words. His quiet affection, like the pink cactus flower, spoke volumes without needing to be said aloud.

The light of the setting sun bathed the battlefield in a warm glow, but the air still held a chill. Phainon stood next to you, watching the aftermath of the conflict they had just won together. His regal coat, embroidered with blue and gold silk, fluttered lightly in the wind, and his piercing eyes softened as he turned to you.

"Quite the fight," he remarked with a slight smile, though his tone remained calm and measured, as always.

You reached into your bag and pulled out a cactus flower with bright yellow petals, holding it out to him. "For you," you said, your voice soft. "It represents heat, endurance, and security. You've been the pillar we needed, Phainon."

Phainon raised an eyebrow, gently taking the flower from your hand. His gaze lingered on it for a moment before meeting your eyes. "Endurance and security?" he mused aloud. "I suppose I do try my best to ensure the safety of those around me, but I do not seek such praise."

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You might not seek it, but it’s true. You’ve always been a steady force, even in the most chaotic of situations. Like this cactus flower. It thrives where others might not."

Phainon’s usual cheerfulness lingered beneath his calm demeanor, and he chuckled softly. "It’s rare that someone notices the small things. But I’m glad you did." He tucked the cactus flower into his coat, its bright yellow petals contrasting with the deep blues and golds of his outfit. "I’ll carry it with me, as a reminder of this moment and the strength we share."

As the two of you stood side by side, the cactus flower remained between you, a symbol of enduring warmth and protection amidst the trials yet to come. Phainon’s steadfast nature, like the flower, would continue to provide the strength both of you needed on your shared journey.

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vyladerz · 2 days ago

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Season 8 didn't start off with a whole ton of hope. In fact it furthered the continuation of the poor characterization from season 7 with the addition of convoluted lore writing. However, after watching the last episode of this season, this show has restored my faith in it. It's like everything clicked together seamlessly, in a way I haven't seen from this show in a long time.

Now, I had a paragraph of complaints when I first wrote this but I'm choosing to let them go.

"So?"

Who knew the most devastating line in this show would be said with only one syllable. My heart sank down to the pit of my stomach when I first heard Sam say it. Oh man, Jared does such an incredible job at his wounding portrayal of Sam in this scene. This is by far his best performance ever (I'm getting choked up here just visualizing the scene in my mind). Sam's soul was purely human here and what a fragile soul at that. His guilt has manifested into a physical sickness and it's so haunting to see. Dean's reaction and apology elevates this moment to a song of sweet harmony. A duet between two sorry brothers who must put aside grudges and feelings of inadequacy to come together as whole. Finally they are able to see eye to eye after so many brutal instances of them being world's apart. A scene like this understands what Supernatural is to its core.

I wish I had more words to describe everything but I'd need more time. Still, god what a memorable scene. It's become my absolute favorite and I'm both intrigued and terrified to see if another scene later on can top it.

Okayyyy so what else did I enjoy?

-The ending was gorgeous with all the angels falling. (I constantly think about when I'm making fake edits in my mind.)

-I love Charlie episodes. I knew I would fall in love her immediately from the start. I'm glad she got some backstory to add some dimension to her character. She's a character I can definitely see getting far in the show.

-I LOVE BENNY! I miss Benny. Absolutely devastated, will not recover from losing him. Sadly, his character was always destined to be a tragedy. Even so, I will forever long for a happy ending for him. The wound is still fresh though so moving on.

-The whole "I need you" scene between Dean and Cas was everything to me and I will savor that scene forever. I will be craving another scene like this going forward. The desperation and intensity drawn from that moment is what I need more of from this show.

-The Parallels between Castiel and Sam this season was UGH so great. They're so willing to sacrifice every bone in their body not for the world (they can tell themselves that) but to save Dean from disappointment. Beautiful symmetry here.

-Sam and Crowley's dynamic is so fascinating. Crowley being slowly restored of his humanity is something I wouldn't have imagined possible in this show. Having Sam, the man who knows the path of forgiveness more than anyone else be the one to do it is perfect. Such an unlikely duo I'm excited to see explored.

-SARAH?? I didn't expect to see Sarah again whatsoever cause 1.) I thought the show would've just moved on and forgotten Sam's promise to return. 2.) I've unfortunately ran into a lot of spoilers but I never saw anyone talk about this so I really didn't expect it at all. I wish their moment lasted longer with more of a kick to Sam's character. I did cry, a lot, so if they wanted an emotional torment they got it. I'm still glad this scene exists though even after my pain and agony.

I really love this show, I hope that comes across here. I started watching Supernatural this year after years of peeking at it through window blinds. Every song reminds me of these silly fictional characters and everywhere I go I see a Supernatural reference. This series means the world to me and the mold in my brain. I know I'm new here spouting things that have been said before, for what, over 15 years? I'm just catching up to the surface of everything. For this review I wanted to leave my complaints for another time so I could romanticize all the good things that have happened and are to come. So if my next ranking is more criticism than praise, then so be it. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't at least fun!

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magiefish · 2 days ago

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The King of Terror: Part 6

We’re back to some protracted spy bullshit again

The chapter opens with Ryman (evil henchman guy) interrogating a boy who ferries explosives to the Sons of Nostradamus, and upon concluding he doesn’t know anything throws him off the side of a roof to his death. Nothing else of nite occurs except that he wets himself out of fear and Ryman makes various threats to his, uh, ‘manhood.’

We then move over to an online call between Sanger and Sen where Sen reveals that the Kyla O’Shaugnessy who dived onto the bullet train earlier was his assistant, which I completely missed because Keith was busy introducing like 50 other characters at the same time. Sanger also has this positively scintillating thought process:

I don’t remember how old Chung Sen is and I don’t want to think about it.

Cut to the Doctor, Tegan comes in to tell him Turlough’s gone and this is his reaction:

This is flippant even for Five. And especially post-Adric Five. Also, what do you mean Turlough ‘yabbers’? Turlough? The guy who was sneaking around in the TARDIS for weeks? Undercover and trying to kill the Doctor? Who’s known for lying and being ruthlessly pragmatic? Okay. Sure.

Lines That Have Aged Like Fucking Milk. Anyway, the Doctor calls the Brigadier to update him on the situation and they have this exchange:

You are not the Auton Infinity! You will never be anywhere near the Brigadier and Turlough’s dynamic in the Auton Infinity!

Good to see that Five is actually concerned, but I also don’t know if it’s entirely in character for Tegan to compartmentalise like that. She is a very pragmatic character who knows how to handle a crisis, but she’s also very headstrong, compassionate, and concerned with justice, and I don’t think she’d necessarily be this okay with Turlough going missing. Maybe if this was set sometime during Season 20, but by Season 21 I feel like they’ve built up more of a bond than that. And, again, I have not *seen* that much of the Bridgadier but something about the way he acts here feels off.

There’s a brief bit where Newton calls Ryman, so I’ll say they’re in cahoots and all the stuff roof boy said earlier was actually true and Ryman just pretended it wasn’t. Meanwhile, Sanger holds a business meeting with all of the business men introduced earlier, where everyone sheds their skin and becomes something decidedly insectoid and inhuman. It’s quite violent, and I’m really wondering how they’re going to put their skin suits on again.

The next chapter is called ‘Unit Cutaway’ and if you thought we’d be spared Beavis and Butt-Head for this update, you’d be wrong!

Paynter asks Barrington if he’s ever lost a close friend, and tells him that he lost two long-term took-a-bullet-for-them friends over money and, of course, a woman (“Cherchez la femme, that’s what makes the world go round” fucking kill yourself Keith). Paynter then asks Barrington if he actually likes him because he ‘knows he’s not easy to get on with’ and everyone else seems to go…. Gee. I wonder why. They then bond over ableism.

Ah yes. Speech impediments. Very funny.

This is literally beyond parody at this point. What kind of bizarro hell world have I stumbled into. How does Keith somehow manage to make everything circle back to one or more forms of bigotry. How does he do it.

Paynter and Barrington go to the InterCom Studio City headquarters, where Barrington figures out the tour guides are using brainwashing / autosuggestion techniques. For some reason. They also find out they’re building a spaceship in the warehouse. Cool.

Next chapter and guess who we’re back to! It’s Turlough! And he’s strapped down and naked! Oh boy! He gets bombarded with noise so loud it makes his ears bleed and then someone starts shining a bunch of little red superheated lights on various parts of his body. Yay.

The Doctor gets Tyrone to drive him up to a high point in Los Angeles so he can get his bearings.

I hate to admit it but the Turlough line did make me cackle. Also yay! Praise for Tegan! Complimenting a woman! I thought I’d never see it in this book! Also… ‘I know what you are’. 💅 ‘Population transplant’ is also certainly an interesting way to refer to the mass genocide of Native Americans but okay.

I love it when characters just explain their emotions completely unsolicited. Especially Five, who is definitely noted for giving unsolicited explanations of his emotions. Also, buddy, are you sure you want to compare yourself to Age of Discovery explorers?

Tegan does some stuff with computers with a guy named Milligan because we needed more characters in this book, which she is Bad at because she’s from the early 80s.

My eyes physically rolled all the way into my fucking skull with this one.

Ahahaha. Hauntology.

Anyway, I don’t have enough images for the rest of this chapter so I’ll finish part one another time. That’s right. Six updates in and we aren’t even past part one. Yippee.

There is a name oft spoken of in hushed tones within the circles of those who are fans of the Fifth Doctor’s era. It has a rating of 3.5 on the Timescales; it has no plot description; it is the reason why the TARDIS wiki has an article for ‘anal probe’. But, as much as it mentioned and then hushed up, there is at present no further in-depth guide to this novels bizarreness, it’s staggeringly low-quality, it’s unrelenting horniness. If one wishes to understand this horror, one must read it firsthand. Well no more. I, in the name of knowledge and first-hand wisdom, have decided to set out on a journey so that no others may have to undertake it, and with the skills I have honed through my study of English Literature provide a degree of critique and commentary to Keith Topping’s infamous offspring.

I, dear readers, am going to liveblog reading The King of Terror. Starting now.

The King Of Terror Liveblog: Part One

[TW: This being the King of Terror, we will almost certainly be getting into discussions of SA/non-consensual sex. The word ‘r@pe’ will almost definitely come up (indeed it literally comes up on the first page). Also, I will not be censoring it beyond this point because a) this isn’t TikTok, and b) even if I used ‘grape’ or something everyone would still know what I was talking about so there’s no real point. I assume everyone here is a mature adult who doesn’t need to hide behind codes in order to discuss serious and upsetting topics. If you are not, Please God Don’t Read This, it will likely still be here by the time you’re old enough. Go watch the show instead, it’s better and more family friendly (and has well-written violence and kissing in it). If these topics bring up any unpleasant memories for you or will put you in a bad state of mind, then please do not read this live blog, it is not worth it. Furthermore, I imagine various kinds of bigotry will come up in incredibly breezy barely relevant ways (sexism, racism, homophobia, etc.) because this is the year 2000 we’re talking about. There’s also probably something related to medical trauma in here. I will also probably get Very Angry as a lover of literature and Doctor Who at some point, so we’ll see how that goes. Anyways, onwards and downwards.]

Wow, I feel sorry for these guys

Interesting choice. Wonder how this will be relevant to the ‘themes’ of this work.

Huh. Okay. This isn’t actually a bad start. A bit pretentious maybe, but the descriptions are very visceral and it’s certainly a good hook, perhaps this won’t be so bad-

Aaaaand yep not even a page in and we’re already using the phrase “rape”, really cool Keith, very mature and based. Now, I’m not categorically averse to using the phrase ‘rape’ semi-metaphorically. But it is one of those words that has to be handled very carefully and with a proper understanding of the feelings and ideas that it implies.

‘The Things’ (the 2010 short story based off of ‘The Thing’) uses it towards the end in a way that I feel illustrates my point - the alien is disgusted by humanity and our ‘individualised’ existences and decides to forcefully ‘teach’ us why it’s so much better to be like it via the means of, y’know, infecting people with parts of it and then making them go all schlorp. Right before it assimilates one of the men, he calls it a ‘rapist’ which the alien later adopts in the final line of the story: ‘I will rape it into them’. Now, to me, this works because the aliens convictions are painted in a somewhat religious light throughout the story and also because assimilating people is literally a physical violation, so the use of the word at the stories end seems to be used to deliberately conjure ideas of ‘corrective’ SA in a way that feels intentional given the previously discussed themes. It is also, as I have noted, used right at the end as the final line of the story, in a way that indicates to me that the writer understood the very visceral feelings the word evokes and decided to reserve it to be used to reinforce the bleak, foreboding tone of the ending.

Keith does not do this. Keith decides to use the idea of SA and all its violent implications right out of the gate to, presumably, shock the reader and try to grab their attention. He did not have to do this. His abstract, vague descriptions and in-media-res opening were enough by themselves. What this belies to me is a) a belief that violence or shock are inherently compelling and b) a lack of confidence in the strength of his writing on its own. We shall see if I am correct in both of these estimations.

Now, Keith is certainly not the only writer guilty of a very liberal use of SA in the wilderness years of Doctor Who. It seems, from the little I have read, almost inescapable. I remember reading ‘Goth Opera’ and the word ‘rape’ being used to describe what the Mara did to Tegan within, like, the first 30 pages or something. (Which, okay, some critics have definitely compared the scene from ‘Kinda’ where the Mara possesses her to an SA scene, but within the first 30 pages? And without unpacking any of that? Mr. Cornell??) But that doesn’t excuse any of this it just makes him another part of a rather unfortunate pattern.

Oooo somebody wrote this before ‘The Weddding of River Song’. Keith Hopping JNT just called, he wants you to know that fucking with the UNIT timeline is his domain.

So old Keith is aware of Shadows Over Avalon. I don’t really know how much cross-continuity was going on with the PDA / EDA / VNA / VMA writers, so I’m not really certain whether this reference to stuff that has happened in other stories is complacent or unusual. I haven’t actually read Shadows Over Avalon, I’m not that far into the EDA’s (I got distracted before I could read Alien Bodies :( ).

WILL this man ever get to enjoy retirement!

I was never under the impression that the Brigadier was a straight up Tory but I haven’t seen that much of him so what do I know? Also, ‘a smile of admiration’? What, cause being a Tory is just such good old lovable nostalgic Britain? And patriotism too? Ugh. Anyway, the set-up for this narrative is seemingly that a bunch of UNIT files have been decommissioned. This journalist is initially interviewing the Brigadier about a case involving the Waro (who were in Keith’s last book “The Devil Goblins From Neptune”, so, nice self-repping Keith).

This then moves into the two of them discussing the Doctor and his involvement with some company called ‘Intercom’, setting up the events of this story. I also don’t know what the Brig is on about here with the Doctor being ‘a man of peace’ because *I* definitely saw Three’s Venusian moves but okay. Anyway, this section is attributed to an in-universe book so it seems like Keith is trying to a bit of a meta-textual House of Leaves thing. Let’s see how he succeeds in the next post, which will be a reblog of this one.

#pain and suffering #fifth doctor #tegan jovanka #vislor turlough #the king of terror #liveblog #classic doctor who #past doctor adventures #doctor who

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