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farcry5 · 3 years

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but you always were what i came here for

pairing: jacob seed x deputy (theo ward) summary: no-cult au. Jacob spends his nights at the local bar after falling for a certain woman who has been in too many bar fights to count. warnings: alcohol and smoking of course. language. john. but it’s mostly soft. slight ns/fw just in case lol

a/n: anyways loving the idea of john and faith acting like old ladies who love knowing all the gossip and drama that goes around hope county... ---------------

She was always there, late in the night at the only bar in town- the only moderately proper bar in all of Hope County. Tall and beautiful, long black hair falling down her back in waves. She would drink heavily, dance in groups or alone, and laugh with friends and strangers alike.

There was something alluring about her that pulled people in. Jacob had never even spoken with her before, but he could feel that pull, stronger than ever.

Inside, she was so alive and full of charm, flirting unapologetically and as rowdy and unruly as the country men that crowded around her. There were a few times she had either stopped a bar fight or started one, throwing punches hard enough to knock a drunk out cold.

Outside, she’d sit on a chair with a cigarette between her lips, staring at nothing, all the life gone in an instant. Quiet and distant, only responding when someone told her goodbye as they walked out of the bar.

He had sat with her a couple of times, in an oddly comfortable silence that he found himself completely lost in. Neither would move for hours, just sitting outside the noisy bar, smoking or drinking without a word. Once, she jolted from her trance and looked around, sent him a gentle smile and ran her fingers through her hair. She had sighed heavily, flicked her cigarette onto the concrete and muttered a soft ‘good night’ to him as she left.

Jacob had been entranced ever since and he’d lie awake every night, thinking about the way her hair would fall over her shoulders, the curve of her lips when she’d smile, the way her body would move as she danced, the sadness in her eyes in the glow of the flame as she lit her last cigarette. The sound of her voice would ring in his ears as he finally manages to drift to sleep, even if only for a couple of hours.

John and Faith had been constantly bothering him about why he frequented the Spread Eagle every night now, when he hardly interacted with anyone in town, but he could never manage to tell them.

So the next night, they showed up, much to not only his, but to everyone’s surprise. Mary May watched the two walk in, eyeing them curiously. Theo and her group consisting of Hurk Jr., Sharky Boshaw, Jess Black, and Eli Palmer all paused their conversation to see the unexpected guests.

John walked in with a rather bored expression as his eyes scanned over every patron of the bar. Faith looked sweet and innocent but Jacob knew there was something mischievous under that smile of hers. The bar was full of people tonight, so they were on the hunt for the only reason Jacob was here.

As soon as they sat down at his table, the attention was gone like they had never interrupted in the first place. Yet, Jacob noticed Theo watching them and he couldn’t help but stare back, at least until Eli touched her arm and she looked away.

“Oh brother,” John smirks, still taking in the atmosphere. “You look more out of place here than I thought. Still, you fit in better than either of us could.”

Faith hummed and turned to him. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. I almost imagined you were actually talking to people.”

“Dancing, even.” John interjects.

“No, definitely not that.”

Jacob rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink he had left untouched. “Shut it. Why are you two even here?”

Their sister gets up to go get drinks from the bar, while John leans back in his seat. “We just wanted to know what would make the unsociable and grumpy Jacob Seed leave his house every night for two weeks. I had some ideas, but they seemed more my style than yours. Faith was worried you were becoming an alcoholic, yet, that looks like your first drink.”

A commotion at the bar causes Jacob to turn away from his brother, watching as Theo talks with Faith, laughing together while she keeps the cousins at bay and away from the younger woman. Theo speaks to Mary May for a moment, to which Mary May scoffs and shakes her head, but pours more drinks.

Faith finally returns, a drink in each hand and she sits down, beaming. “That woman, she’s so funny. Sometimes I forget she’s a sheriff's deputy.”

“Isn’t she on leave? Something about showing up to work drunk, I think.” John hums in thought, his dark eyes following the woman as Hurk Jr. pulls her to the small dance floor.

“I thought it was because she got into a fight while in uniform and smashed a man’s windows.”

He knew little about her, only what his brothers grieved about, since she was the one that arrested Joseph for one little accident. Jacob sighs and attempts to tune the two out, listening to the music that doesn’t sound so obnoxious anymore, watching as the woman who seemed to be the topic of everyone’s conversation lately, dances with her friend.

She was beautiful even then, under the hand painted colored lights, sweat trailing down her neck and strands of her hair clinging to her skin. Her movements were clumsier tonight, the alcohol hitting her harder than he had seen it, but at the same time, she was more sober than most of the people around.

When he looks back at John, there’s a knowing gleam in his eyes and he smiles, raising a brow, but doesn’t say a word. He may have been freed from answering questions for tonight, but he knew John wouldn’t let him carry on in secret forever.

The rest of the night was spent with Jacob having to suffer through John and Faith’s constant chatter, listening to drunkards sing terrible karaoke, and trying to drown his newfound feelings which never seemed to want to die. His siblings grew tired and eventually left, leaving Jacob alone with the off-duty officer and her dwindling group of friends. Sharky was passed out at the bar, Hurk Jr. was in the bathroom for what seemed like eternity, while Jess and Eli had left around an hour ago. Jacob had noticed the soft touches from Eli that Theo had received all night, but chose to ignore whatever meaning they could hold.

The night ended with Theo and Jacob sitting outside in silence like usual, but something was off. Theo was restless, leg bouncing as she smoked and stared off into the night. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her next move, which came sooner than expected and completely out of left field.

“Do you want to go home with me?”

Jacob turns to look at her, slightly shocked to see her staring back at him. There was no one else there and she wasn’t on the phone, so she was definitely asking him. The silent gazing lasts far longer than needed, but he isn’t sure how to answer.

Theo laughs, shaking her head quickly. “Sorry, you can forget that.”

However, Jacob stands and pulls his keys from his pocket. “Should we go now?”

Her blue eyes watch him for a moment and then she jumps up, pulling her keys from her pocket. He follows behind her on the drive to her home, which isn’t far as she had told him and it’s not long until he’s walking through her front door and she’s pulling him in for a kiss.

Jacob welcomes it, his boot kicking the door shut and his hands holding her against him. He takes in the way she tastes, the way she feels and smells and her soft moans as his fingers grip her waist. He’s pinning her against the wall as her hands slide over his throat to the back of his neck.

Theo pushes off the wall, tugging him by the shirt into her slightly messy living room, seating him on the couch. Without a moment to spare, she was on top of him, kissing him hungrily with her hips grinding against his. As she tugs on his belt, she smiles against his lips and starts to chuckle, leaning against his shoulder.

He frowns, hands moving over her thighs to hold her waist, attempting to pull her back. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” Theo gazes at him and smiles, fingers grazing over his jaw. “I was just thinking how funny it was that we always saw each other at the bar but only now-” She can’t finish her sentence, tilting her head as she tugs his belt again, knuckles brushing against his stomach.

“I hate that bar.” Jacob grumbles quietly and then sighs as he settles back into the couch cushions. It wasn’t an honest truth, but all and all, he wasn’t there for any other reason.

Theo’s smile slowly vanishes and she leans away, blue eyes narrowing at him. “You do? Then why did you go every night?”

A familiar moment of silence settles over the two as they stare at one another with mixed emotions. She’s confused and slightly hurt, but the lust and hunger was still there. However, Jacob was completely memorized and dazed the longer he watched her, his heart jumping in excitement at every movement.

“For you.” Was his soft reply, wondering if it was something he would have ever said sober or to anyone else. Words more romantic than a man like him was capable of.

Theo takes a breath, blinking and then moving her hand at his waist to under his shirt. “Really?” He nods and places his hand over her wrist as she moves up his torso. She smiles again, softer, and leans down, lips close to his. “I’m glad you showed up.”

The corner of his mouth pulls into a small smirk and his lips are light against her skin. He hums and closes his eyes, placing his hand on the small of her back and moving her closer against him.

“We usually bar hop and I don’t always go out-” She sighs in content as he places slow kisses against her throat. “I stayed every night to see if you’d be there.”

Jacob smiles and makes his way back to her lips, careful and steady, savoring the sharp taste of cinnamon whiskey. “I’m glad you did.”

#i wrote something??? wow #far cry fic #jacob seed #theo ward #oc fic*#i hope this is good yall know i'm too soft #i know i don't write jacob right but whatever #this is more self-indulgent than anything

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princesskokichi · 4 years

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ns / fw headcanons for extreme dom ! byakuya

i daydream about a super dominant byakuya let me be real with you

part of me doesn’t think it fits his personality but the sub in me is just 🥵

- oH

- we talking some 50 shades of grey shit alright

- alright, if you take christian grey's character and make him better

- you would have byakuya

- he's probably hella into bondage

- i don't see him as the kind of guy who's into teasing or anything like orgasm denial

- but he probably l o v e s overstimulation

- in fact i would say that the only times he goes down on you is either to make you cum four or five times just on his tongue

- or as a way to remind you that no matter how rough sex with him may get, that he still cares deeply about you

- to be honest if he were to be super hardcore sexual i can totally see him as the kind of dom who's not afraid to punish you in public

- nothing major, i doubt that he would go so far into voyeurism, but he would probably not think twice about smacking your ass to remind you to behave

- ah, he probably collars you as well

- i can see him as the kind of guy into petplay

- you've been into a few awkward conversations explaining the collar around your neck as a simple styling choice

- because when people see it, they immediately look up at byakuya like they just know what's up

- and you have to be there like " no no i just wear it because i like it "

- even though that's a lie, but it keeps you from looking weird or like an easy target in public, so neither you or him minds it

- if the collar proved to be a problem then he would confine it to the bedroom or house honestly

- he's not the kind of guy to take risks with your safety, especially since there are a lot of perverts

- going back to his kinks, i can say with 100% certainty that he loves having you on his lap

- no matter what either of you are doing

- sometimes it's not even kinky

- if you're both just sitting at home with nothing to do, you're on his lap

- very often you accompany him late at night while he's working on paperwork just sitting on his lap

- even in public, if you were comfortable with it, you were expected to sit on his lap

- and he really loves having a grip on your hips, just holding you in place

- it reminds him that he's in charge, as if he needed to be reminded

- hickeys are also probably a constant occurrence

- you've gotten pretty good at hiding them at this point

- also,, he's probably very into degradation

- he would never say something that would actually hurt your feelings

- but he does like calling you a slut or a whore, but ONLY for him

- like you're not an actual whore, you're just a whore for him

- there's a difference in those statements and he makes sure they're separated because you are not a whore

- and aftercare is meticulous with him

- during aftercare, which is usually just him taking care of your booboos and telling you how great you were while making you drink some water

- he talks about performance and how he could do better next time, while giving you feedback as well

- communication is key in your relationship, especially in the bed

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami #danganronpa byakuya #danganronpa imagines #imagines #mod kokichi

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teledild0nix · 3 years

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Not sure if it is too late to ask but: do you have a favourite getting-together scenario for Drarry? Like how would you see it happening

not reaaaaally? i take it one fic at a time, and like. it’s soooooo easy to get it wrong yknow? people want draco to have been like. not that bad. well he WAS that bad, and it’s not a satisfying story if we don’t deal with that! he’s a terrible fucking person in canon, but he’s also a kid and at the end, a terrified kid facing a whole pile of abuse and the threat of death. not just for himself but for his whole family.

so i just like to see fics that thoughtfully engage with what redemption might look like for draco. we don’t necessarily have to get into detail about when/how/why he turned away from the dark side, but we need to understand that his worldview has transformed significantly and we need him to acknowledge that he was very much in the wrong, not just in how he saw the world but also in how he treated the people around him.

we also need to engage with the fact that after the war, harry’s place in the world must feel very strange and uncomfortable to him. he doesn’t want to be a celebrity, but he is one. he doesn’t want to be a mascot, but he must have so many different groups pressuring him to be one. and he HATES injustice and unfairness and cruelty, and even without voldemort, the wizarding world is full of that, so i’d like to see harry banging his head against that a bit, too. harry is important, and bland reader-insert style harry does not cut it for me AT ALL.

i will say that it’s gotta be post war adult harry and draco for me i simply do not fw hogwarts era drarry. honestly i don’t think that teenagers rlly have the emotional intelligence for enemies to friends to lovers when the enmity is so like real and serious the way it is between harry and draco as opposed to purely interpersonal conflict (like say elizabeth bennett and mr darcy). plus i’m a grownup and i want my love stories to be about grownups and not kids.

as far as how i personally see it happening? i think they have to learn to be friends before they can learn to be lovers. so maybe they’re thrown together for some reason and learn to enjoy each other over time? i suspect that draco actually really enjoys harry even in canon, since he’s always seeking him out.

#i have soooooo much more to say about how they might get together but i feel like this post is already So Long #captainclickycat

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loadfinger140 · 3 years

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Best Nation In War Thunder

War Thunder Best Country

Best Naval Nation War Thunder

Best Nation In War Thunder Planes

Part of The Complete Beginner’s Guide

Service dogs are trained to provide assistance and therapy to various people with disabilities. They can aid in navigation for people who are visually impaired, assist a child who is having a seizure, calm a veteran who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and can even dial 911 in the event of an emergency.

Welcome to the Critical Condition web site. For those of you unfamiliar with Critical Condition, let me give a little background. Critical Condition (CritCon for short) was started as a small bi-monthly newsletter in 1982 to alert my friends about the new horror films that were released to theaters.

Germany: Now Germany is one of the better nations in the air, if you know how to play them right. Germany is primarily an energy fighter and boom and zoom nation. Fw 190s are NOT meant to turn fight, they suck at it. Use their great roll rate in case someone gets on your tail.

There are no terrible choices when it comes to picking a country to play in War Thunder, each one has strengths and weaknesses. If you’re feeling patriotic you can go for your own nation (if it’s in the game) or if you have a particular favourite aircraft then go for the appropriate country and work up to it (or enjoy it right away, if you happen to be especially keen on the P-26 Peashooter). It’s not as if you have to religiously stick to playing one country either, playing two or three (or all five) countries is good for mixing up play styles to keep things fresh, learning about the strengths and weaknesses of a variety of planes, and allowing aircraft of one nation to repair over time while playing another. The following only covers aircraft, I’m afraid I haven’t really been keeping up with the relative strengths of tanks.

The USSR

If you have no strong preference then starting off with the Soviet Union isn’t a bad idea; you get a bonus premium aircraft for the first country you fly with, and the I-153 that the USSR get is a great plane, very handy to be able to put straight into service without having to research and unlock it. The Soviet tech tree is extensive, with a couple of decent lines of fighters and good jet options in the end game with the MiG-17 fighter and Il-28 bomber. They have a wide range of light bombers/ground attackers, including the iconic Il-2 Sturmovik, and both medium and heavy bomber options. About the only area they’re really lacking are heavy fighters, the Pe-3 series are pretty lacklustre, but the Yak-9T/K with 37mm and 45mm cannon respectively are brutally effective against bombers.

The UK

War Thunder Best Country

Britain is another good option for starting players, with some excellent fighters once you get past the biplanes. The Hurricanes are an early workhorse, Spitfires are highly manoeuvrable and well suited to turning dogfights (except against the Japanese) and the Typhoons and Tempests have good speed and firepower. Their jets struggled a little at the top end when only the Meteor was available, but the Venom and Hunter are more powerful post-war options. For bombing the Blenheim and Beaufort are fine in Rank I, but things tail off a bit with the Wellingtons in Ranks II and III, which are rather vulnerable to the cannon-packing fighters they almost invariably come up against, then pick up again with the two Lancasters that, thanks to Update 1.43, can now carry some of the heaviest bomb loads in the game as they did historically, and the Canberra jet bomber. You also have plenty of torpedo bombing options, starting very early with the venerable Swordfish, but without being able to specifically choose maps featuring shipping targets it’s a roll of the dice as to whether you can actually use them – at least until naval battles might be an option!

The USA

The USA takes a little while to get going. In Arcade mode particularly the favoured US armament of .50 calibre machine guns are at a bit of a disadvantage once everyone else is tooling up with 20mm cannons; though .50s certainly can be effective, especially with later incendiary rounds, you’ll generally need to get more hits in to bring something down, increasing the likelihood of someone else “helpfully” swooping in on your target. The 37mm cannon of the P-39/63s perhaps overcompensates, though, it’s devastating when it hits, but the slow rate of fire and high recoil makes it a little trickier to use, better suited to bomber hunting than fast moving dogfights. The USA have some strong later fighters, and a good selection of jets including several F-86 Sabre variants at the top of the tree. They’re a sound choice for heavy bombers with three B-17 variants and the B-24, sacrificing bomb load compared to the British Lancasters for more defensive turrets, then the B-29 with the largest bombloads in the game, though it’ll take a while to get up to mid-Rank III to start researching them; along the way the A-20 and B-25 are decent medium bomber/attackers with plenty of machine guns for strafing. The F6F and P-47 fighters are also notable for the quantity of ordnance they can carry for ground attack if you like a fighter/bomber role.

Germany

Germany also has strong fighters in the mid-to-late game, but their Rank I options tend to be sluggish, lightly armed or Italian (in some cases, all three); I’d suggest getting the hang of the game with other countries first. Things pick up markedly in Rank II with the introduction of the Bf 109 and Fw 190 series, and they also have the widest range of rocket and jet fighters. Initially there’s a selection from World War II (the Me 163, Me 262, He 162 and Ho 229 “flying wing”) which are in a slightly awkward place for matchmaking, where they outperform Allied propeller-driven contemporaries but are inferior to post-war Soviet and US jets, so to give Germany a viable end-game option Update 1.39 added both a Canadian-built Sabre and a MiG-15, as operated by the West and East German air forces respectively in the late 1950s. Germany also has a good range of heavy fighters from the Bf 110 to the Me 410s, and plenty of early bombing options with numerous variants of the Ju 87 Stuka for dive bombing, and the He 111, Ju 88 and Italian S.79 series of medium bombers. There aren’t any heavy bombers later on, though the Do 217 series of medium bombers can carry pretty heavy loads once upgraded and deliver them with precision in a dive; at the top of the tree the Ar 234, the first operational jet bomber, has its historical advantage of speed somewhat negated, as it usually faces jet opposition.

Japan

Japan has the most agile fighters in the game with the nimble Ki-43 and the A6M Zero line, though they are a bit fragile. The later Ki-84 and N1K are good all-rounders, and there are also heavier options with the big-cannon packing Ki-45 and -102 heavy fighters, handy for taking down enemy bombers. Bombing-wise the H6K is quite a fun early bomber to start with, it carries a large payload for a Rank 1 aircraft, can absorb a lot of incoming fire (especially from small calibre machine guns) and has plenty of turrets including a 20mm cannon to ward off attackers; the downside is that handles like a boat with wings, probably because it *is* a boat with wings. Going up the tree the later bomber line is a little lacking in terms of payload, but turrets with 20mm cannon at least give them a bit of a defensive option. The Japanese tree is a little sparse, the smallest in the game, and Rank V has to be padded out somewhat with prototypes and experimental designs due to the lack of competitive late-war historical aircraft, though at least Update 1.39 gave them a viable end-game option in the form of another Sabre that saw post-war service.

Welcome, guideoui.com visitors. In this guide, We try to focus on All Best Britain Vehicles in War Thunder game. These vehicles are also ranked from I to V. While writing this guide, We pick up many pieces of information from several sites for you. We hope that this guide will help you.

You can see all the best vehicles by nations page, by click here.

Tier I Crusader Mk.III aka “tier 1 MBT” or “smoke machine”, its one of best tanks in game, can fight against any vehicle except E-100 and Maus.

PROS +very good gun (120mm penetration at 2.7, fast reload speed and fast projectile speed) +very fast turret rotation +no armor best armor (no hullbreak) +50 smoke grenades (record) +stabiliser (weak tho) CONS -cant penetrate maus or e-100

Tier II 100mm frontal armor at 3.0 with 75mm gun? 3inch gun carrier! can’t get penetrated by t-34 and kv-1 but avoid Pz. IV or japanese tanks.

PROS +very good armor +good gun CONS -very slow speed (reversed too)

Best Naval Nation War Thunder

Tier III Comet I is not overpowered, but very good tank if you skilled player, however even you can play well you can’t damage enemies well…

Best Nation In War Thunder Planes

PROS +fast speed +good gun (penetration, ballistics) +20 smoke nades CONS -very bad reverse speed -weak damage

Tier IV Caernarvon is tank with hull of Conqueror and turret from Centurion, but BR still 6.7.

PROS +very good hull armor and good turret armor +good gun (penetration, ballistics) +good reverse speed (compared to previous british tanks) +Stabilised turret CONS -meh mobility -repair cost

Tier V Even with no armor and no fast speed “Vickers MBT” is best tier 5 tank, compared to leopard 1 this tank have 7.0 BR, stabiliser, faster reload.

PROS +very good gun(penetration, ballistics, reloading speed) +stabilised turret CONS -bad armor -repair cost

This is the ending of War Thunder – All Best Britain Vehicles guide. I hope it will help you. If there is wrong or you have suggestions, please let’s know and comment us. Have fun.

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warmau · 5 years

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{Special Regular Inspired!AU x NCT} Chittaphon

tw: weapons mention, violence mention, n*fw elements, be warned. everything written here is a work of FICTION, it does not in anyway reflect reality, nor do i condone any of the extreme behavior. ♢ introduction ♢ pick mark instead | pick haechan instead | pick yuta instead | pick johnny instead | pick doyoung instead | pick taeil instead

“you’re a good person forced to do bad things.”

“i choose -”

your decision is cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing from down the empty hall

instinctively, everyone turns around

jaehyun draws his gun from his waist pocket and you can see something glittering in yuta’s hands

you freeze - assuming either some poor worker forgot their jacket and is about to end up in the same situation as you

or ,,,,,,

you’re about to witness what the jung employees are really capable of

either way, you don’t expect one person to come through into the office

strutting in relaxed and smiling brightly

“ch-chittaphon?!?”

johnny asks first and everyone lowers their hands as the new person strolls up into the group

he catches your gaze, his eyes are long and catlike

dark like a starless night

“oh my - what do we have here?”

he giggles and gets closer

you don’t know what this guys energy is supposed to be - but he seems too positive to be a criminal

then again looks can be deceiving - you learned that quite well today

“what’s your name? are all of these fools treating you like some kind of animal?”

he teases a little, the mischievous smile never leaving his face

“chittaphon we’re in the middle of something.”

jaehyun replies on your behalf, but gets absolutely ignored

“hmmm, where did they find you? you’re too pretty to be hanging around with these guys.”

the comments make you fluster, but they also confuse you

what in the hell is going on? who is he? does he know about the jungs? his name doesn’t sound korean at all ...

“i - um -”

you can only manage to give your first name and chittaphon sparks up like a firecracker

“ahhh what a cute name! i like it!”

without missing a beat he snaps his fingers and exclaims

“why don’t you come with me?”

jaehyun finally intervenes, putting a hand on chittaphon’s shoulder and pulling him back

“who told you about what happened?”

“no one jaehyun, the truth is i have eyes everywhere and sometimes i just know things even if you try to hide them~”

jaehyun’s lips pull into a straight line and you can see that he’s slightly irritated with chittaphon’s carefree way of speaking

you realize that everyone else has kind of tensed, except for sicheng who looks amused

chittaphon shrugs off jaehyun’s arm and you wonder what kind of power he must have

to ignore and play around with the son of the ceo of the biggest company in south korea

but chittaphon remains unbothered

instead he waltzes back up to you and puts a hand out

you take it, cautious, and he helps you off the table

“anyway, they’ll be much safer with me. no one knows i work for your father and therefore no one will associate them with the jung family business.”

chittaphon doesn’t let go of your hand, you feel the softness of his skin and cool press of the many rings that adorn his fingers

he squeezes a bit when he says his next sentence

“and i can make sure they don’t run their mouth about any of this.”

for a second the blood in your body turns ice cold

he still has a smile on his face but the tone - the words he’d used are sharp like the point of a knife

maybe he’s not all sunshine and rainbows,,,,,,,,,,,

“i think it’s still up to them. do you want to go with chittaphon or someone else?”

jaehyun flicks his gaze over to yours and you really aren’t sure what to say because your brain feels like it’s full of white noise

you had initially planned on picking jaehyun himself, just because he seemed like the member most capable of protecting you

but now you were standing with your hand locked in the palm of someone else

everyone waits and the silence of the room can be felt in the tightness of the air

“i - ill go with chittaphon-”

your voice quivers a little, but it’s covered up by the brightness of chittaphon’s cheer

“what a good decision! ill be taking you with me to thailand-”

“no”

jaehyun cuts in and chittaphon’s eyes, full of sparkles goes muted black when he hears the disagreement

“oh? why not?”

“chittaphon i trust you, you know i do but they have to stay in south korea. my father doesn’t want them leaving the country unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

chittaphon huffs, bringing up his free hand to run through his hair

you catch sight of the multiple piercings in his ear, all metal crosses and spikes

“fine. in that case, they can stay in my seoul apartment.”

chittaphon returns his eyes to settle on you

“you’ll love it, it’s a penthouse with a view of the city! i haven’t been there in ages, but im sure we can upgrade it to fit your style!”

for the first time since he came bursting through the doors you manage to ask chittaphon a whole question

“but what about my place, i need to pack and get my things,,,,,,”

“ohhhhhhh button noooo, we’ll go shopping. we’ll get you something good to eat. i know how to take care of my guests”

chittaphon reaches out and caresses your cheek

“hey, jaehyun tell him to stop.”

mark’s voice perks up and jaehyun groans a little as he tells chittaphon to quit it

you feel him let go of your hand only to place it on jaehyun’s shoulder

“leave it all to me, i’ll make sure they behave.”

chittaphon isn’t kidding when he says his place has a view of the city

the windows are floor to ceiling and all the furniture is minimal and chic

the kitchen looks like it hasn’t been touched in forever

and you’re pretty sure this has to be one of those ikea model homes,,,,,not an actual apartment

but chittaphon throws his blazer on the glistening white couch and puts feet up on the coffee table

(which itself probably costs more than you could ever imagine making)

you stand uncomfortably in the hall - still trying to process what’s happened to you in the past twenty-four hours

you’d went from being nervous about your ordinary internship to becoming the hostage of an underground ring of inhumanely handsome men?

and to sprinkle on top of that

one of those men had arrived late to the party and you’d ended up in his maserati, standing in his penthouse

looking like an utter fool

“make yourself at home, don’t be shy~”

chittaphon giggles suddenly and you snap back into reality

embarrassed and out of place you shuffle closer into the living room, unnaturally careful about not bumping into any of the expensive looking pieces of art

“sooooo!”

chittaphon sits up and you notice that the satin shirt he’d had under his blazer is half unbuttoned

underneath is a slither of his tan skin, multiple chains of silver resting against the broad plane of his chest

they move as he speaks, animated and with his smile never leaving his face

“tell me, how did you end up finding out about the jungs secret business?”

your eyes widen a bit

“b-but don’t you know? you told jaehyun -”

“oh button, i lied! i lie to him ALL the time! i just happened to be on my way to pick up sicheng and when he wasn’t answering me i decided to drop by. how lucky of me, i got there right when things were getting interesting!”

he chuckles and moves closer as he waves for you to sit beside him on the couch

for some reason you can’t bring yourself to move

actually it’s not just “some reason”

it’s because of what he had said back in the office - about making sure you’d behave and not run your mouth.

no matter how kindhearted and free-spirited he was acting right now,,,,,,,,,that moment had revealed that this man had something much darker inside of him

chittaphon senses your tension, but doesn’t press forward

instead he gets up on his feet and stretches out

“well, it’s been a long night. i need a shower. you, of course, are welcome to join~”

he puts a hand on the front buttons of his shirt and undoes them without much thought

“oh- no -”

you try to turn away and tell him he should at least wait for you to get out of sight

but he just laughs

“im not shy about it, feel free to look all you want~”

chittaphon doesn’t let up the flirtatious antics throughout the night

on one hand it keeps the atmosphere light,,,,,but you never forget the cold tone he’d used in front of jaehyun

and the fact that you’re not here of your own volition

you end up wide awake in the guest room, staring up at the ceiling and trying to put together the events that brought you here

you just wanted a normal internship

you just wanted to be a regular, working class citizen

and yet

you roll over on your side and sigh

i ended up in this mess

in the morning chittaphon is gone, you might have only gotten two hours of sleep but you don’t remember hearing any noise to indicate he’d left

but he’s nowhere to be found

instead, there’s a large bag in the living room and a plate of fruits extravagantly laid out on the coffee table

cautious, you don’t touch the bag - you don’t know what’s inside

but the fruits look relatively safe and when you reach for one you see the note placed neatly beside it

plucking it out, you read

‘i apologize for not letting you get to go home, but jaehyunnie said i can’t let you! please check out some of the clothes i had ordered for ~ the sizes should be right. i looked at your body long enough to get some good guesses~’

you feel your cheeks flare at the comment, shutting your eyes and imagining chittaphon’s gaze upon you again

“i know jaehyun said i can’t go,,,but couldn’t he have just sent someone to my apartment,,,”

you mutter - eyeing the large bag before giving in and opening it up

somehow you aren’t as shocked by the outfit choices as you should be

everything is edging on the side of flashy, extravagant, and ,,,,,, sexy

not your style - and not work appropriate to say the least

you end up finding a pair of jeans in the bag that aren’t leather or bright red

unfortunately the shirts chittaphon had chosen are absolutely out of the question and you accidentally fell asleep in the one you wore the night before

so you end up having to wear one of his

the shoulders are a bit loose on you, but you’re grateful that the buttons go all the way up to your neck

the note doesn’t say anything about having to stay put in the house - so you assume you should show up to work

which you do

and when jaehyun sees you he nearly bursts a vein

“what are you doing here?”

“um,,,i - i thought i -”

“where is chittaphon? did he leave you by yourself?”

you panic because if you say yes, will you land chittaphon in trouble? but if you say no and jaehyun finds out you’re lying - is your own head on the chopping block?

you blank and are thankful when sicheng pops out of the elevator a moment later with a shining smile on his face followed by mark and haechan

sicheng greets you first, polite and mannerly

mark gives you a bit of a shy wave and haechan flat out ignores you

jaehyun is about to ask you again - when sicheng tilts his head and brings his hand up to his chin

“ah,,,,,,,isn’t that chittaphon’s shirt?”

the hallway goes dead silent as all four men gaze upon you

sicheng seems to beaming with some hint of mischievousness while mark has turned near beet red and haechan’s look of annoyance has turned into slight amusement

jaehyun shuts his eyes for a second

“what did you and chittaphon do last night?”

you understand the underlying assumption in a snap and begin a thorough refusing of the idea

“n-no! nothing like that, he just - there were no clothes for me to wear so i borrowed this from him and -”

jaehyun mutters to himself about how much of a pain in the ass this is becoming

sicheng winks at you while jaehyun is momentarily distracted

wait, did sicheng say that just so jaehyun would stop grilling me about chittaphon?

jaehyun turns back to you and sighs, “stay with sicheng for now. sicheng - get a hold of your friend.”

sicheng salutes him in a slightly sarcastic manner you assume

mark can’t even look you in the eyes as he scurries past, his brain filling with thoughts you’re sure you don’t want to know about as haechan strolls by with a half smirk on his face

you’re beyond embarrassed - actually you’re verging on humiliated

when sicheng softly touches your shoulder

“chittaphon has some business to take care of, but i’ll get you to him when he’s done.”

sicheng leads you toward the copying room where you first saw him

you relax a little thinking that maybe he’ll just have you help out with some administrative tasks

but that isn’t the situation at hand

instead sicheng moves a stack of boxes blocking another door and when you walk through you realize that the copying machine in here - isn’t for copying papers

duffel bags with unmarked bills are sitting on top of the desk in the back - at a small table under a bright lamp you see someone sitting and meticulously picking apart the remnants of some kind of bill

sicheng starts talking to the person in chinese, but they don’t look up when they respond

that person doesn’t look familiar,,,,,,,,it’s not yuta and it’s not taeil - who ,,?

suddenly the hands that had been working on the bill stops and the person takes a second to spare you a glance

“ah - so you’re -”

he says your name, but it sounds odd

“y-yes”

“is chittaphon having fun with this one or is this really some kind of ploy by jaehyun?”

sicheng shrugs, answers back too fast for you to hear

there’s a moment of silence and then the person waves their hand in the air as if to announce themselves but also cut off the conversation

“im kun. that’s all you need to know.”

kun and sicheng focus on their tasks and you’re sort of banished to the corner like some kind of child

there’s nothing much for you to do - so you busy yourself with some scraps of paper you find

folding and unfolding, feeling the minutes drag on like hours

“eh? no, no. they’re here - you can come get them.”

sicheng’s voice resounds over the quiet movements of kun’s tools

you place the tiny origami crane you’ve made out of the scraps and wait to be told of what’s going on

that doesn’t happen, but in ten minutes or so the door opens again

and chittaphon is there

“ah chittaphon, you’re going to get blood everywhere!”

kun snipes and your eyes take a moment to adjust when you see that running out of chittaphon’s nose is violently red blood

it’s spilling over the jut of his lips, and there are more stains on his blazer and knuckles

but he doesn’t look all that bothered

“i got over here as fast as i could, i didn’t even know i was bleeding.”

he jokes, wiping it off and cringing

“ugh, sicheng please get me a napkin”

sicheng tosses him some, and before you can even process your own reaction

you’re getting up and coming closer to him

“are you ok?”

you ask, searching him for any other wounds

for a moment you forget that chittaphon is a part of a gang - a bloody nose is childs play for him

but you’re just a normal person, seeing someone hurt gives you the natural reaction to need to help

so you bring up your own sleeve as if to offer it up

and chittaphon’s once cheerful eyes turn stone cold

he takes a step back and his voice drops

“don’t touch me.”

the coldness confuses you

one second he’s flirting with me, the other second he’s telling me to get away from him? i was right - this guy isn’t at all what he seems to be on first glance.

you drop your hand and it’s tense, until chittaphon sort of breaks out of it and then playfully chuckles

“oh - i meant i don’t want to get blood on you, by the way isn’t that my shirt?”

you momentarily forget the harshness of his words from seconds ago and stutter out your explanation for wearing it

of course he teases and pries about it, sicheng adds in a quip too just to add fuel to the fire

it all becomes almost funny in the end - but when you’re following chittaphon out of the building later

you can’t help but think about how everything in that particular moment had turned cold

‘don’t touch me’

he reacted as if he thought i was going to hurt him ,,,,,, but im not in the position of power here ,,,,,,

“so - none of my outfits fit your taste?”

the sound of his voice takes you out of your thoughts and you give a small shake of your head

“im sorry you spent so much, but -”

“money isn’t the problem here button, but im just going to assume you aren’t a big fan of sequence and lowcuts hmm”

he grins and you feel like if this was any other conversation

you could so easily get along with him

he’s always bright, at least for the most part

and just trying to make jokes and be fun, but you know in the pit of your stomach that there’s something under this exterior

you’ve seen the shadow peak its head out when chittaphon’s voice drops low, when he stares down at jaehyun

so you keep reminding yourself

don’t fall for it. he isn’t the nice person he tries to be.

the doors of the company open as you and chittaphon walk through them

you don’t even know where you’re going, you’re just following him like some kind of puppy and now when it really matters to be aware

you’re too caught up in your own head instead

“wh-where were you?”

you decide to ask and chittaphon turns a bit

you notice that his cheek is scratched too, and that all the piercings he’d had before had been taken out

“oh, you mean where did i go in the morning?”

“y-yes”

“just doing my job, the jungs don’t just keep me around for nothing.”

the answer in no way correlates with your question - but you don’t push the topic

something tells you chittaphon isn’t about to share any secrets with you anyway

“but don’t worry, i can handle myself.”

he suddenly adds with a wink before pointing toward the otherside of the street

“let’s go eat - i like the place over there!”

you spend a couple of weeks living with chittaphon, because for some reason jaehyun still refuses to let you go to your own

they go by much faster than expected - due mostly to the fact that chittaphon is a great host

always thinking up something fun to do, even when you tell him numerous times that he doesn’t have to go out of his way

yet somehow you end up by his side when he’s shopping, throwing black plated cards down and insisting that you need a diamond bracelet right now

at some point you end up on a yacht with him, his chinese not as good as sicheng’s but the two of them seem to be buttering up clients for the jungs

and you’re there because let’s be real: you’re basically chained to chittaphon under jaehyun’s discretion

chittaphon’s taste for flashiness doesn’t end just with fashion - you end up eating some sort of korean delicacies

and accompanying chittaphon to the home of high ranking thai diplomats

all of it feels kinda like a fever dream

if im supposed to not know anything about the jungs, why is jaehyun so ok with chittaphon taking me everywhere?

part of you is pretty sure jaehyun has pulled chittaphon into his office (when he can catch him that is)

telling him to cut it with the joyriding

and chittaphon has just smiled wide in his face and went “oh sure!” before completely disregarding any vague threat jaehyun might have thrown his way

instead you’re just happy you haven’t seen anything illegal or scary

your biggest fear is stepping onto the scene of a crime

and witnessing chittaphon do something unimaginable

which is hard to even comprehend with how much of a sweet person he comes off as

teasingly calling you button, telling johnny to back off when he starts pulling out the stops on you, even when you’re sitting beside him and doing some mundane job doyoung or sicheng has given you

and although you don’t exactly know what chittaphon’s function is here - he peeks over your shoulder and says you don’t have to do it - why don’t you just come and have fun with him instead?

beyond the flirtatious teasing, he also just seems goodnatured

he comes back a couple of times with bruises and black eyes and bleeding noses - so you never know what he really is up to

but he always laughs it off, always goes back to being cheery and fun

and making you sometimes forget that this place isn’t where you want to be - that he isn’t just the handsome, young, and rich well dressed and well spoken boy before you

he works for ceo jung

and you know

in the back of your mind that there’s darkness in him - you just hope you go through these six months without having to see it

but after so much time with someone - it’s only inevitable that some of that darkness comes out

you don’t really end up hanging around the jung building that much because chittaphon works off site for the most part

but one afternoon, chittaphon drops you off at the doors

he gives you the same smile, the same teasing nickname and tells you to find sicheng

when you do, sicheng passes you a folder

“what is this?”

“some work to keep you busy while we wait for chittaphon to come back.”

you hold the folder to your chest and give sicheng a small look

“hm?”

“where is chittaphon going,,,,,,,,”

sicheng kind of chuckles

“you don’t want to know.”

but i do - i want to know, even though i would probably regret hearing the answer

you take a seat somewhere in the office and start leafing through the folder

they’re just plain bank transfer forms that need to be organized and once again you’re happy for the regular task

but you’re also just itching a bit with curiosity now

maybe chittaphon is cutting some kind of deal with another gang? maybe he’s helping transport some sort of dangerous weapon to a warehouse owned by the jungs?

all the thoughts are fantasies you’ve gathered from watching movies like james bond or whatever - but these are now realities that could be happening

some hours pass and you finish your task, playing again with the left over papers to make pressed flowered shapes

when suddenly kun comes bursting through the door

he and sicheng start quarreling in chinese and before you can really process anything

sicheng is snapping his fingers at you

“let’s go!”

everything happens in a spiraling blur

at first, you’re just waiting for chittaphon in a room on the tenth floor of the jung building

the next thing you know, you’re in the backseat with kun driving like a maniac

speeding through traffic

sicheng in the front seat, head bent over and his voice ringing in your ears

it’s all in chinese, you can’t pick up on any words the only thing you recognize is the repetition of chittaphon’s name

kun comes to a screeching stop in front of a large looking estate

the front gates are open and kun and sicheng get out without a word, expecting fully that you’ll stay put in the car

of course you’re having none of that - the adrenaline overpowers your common sense

and you undo your seat belt and scurry out after them

they’re fast, and you’ve lost sight of where they’ve gone - but you’re sure they must have curved the side of the large home

so you do too and freeze

what you see is that kun and sicheng did curve the side, but not the one you chose

kun has his hands up and out, a colt pistol pointed perfectly forward

sicheng is squatted down beside kun, a phone pressed to his ear and eyes locked onto the scene playing out in the backyard

you too are looking at it

chittaphon, standing over a body looks absolutely crazed

his hair is matted down with sweat, his white shirt torn and spots of crimson shining through

he’s barefoot, standing atop the grass, chest rising and falling erratically

in his right hand is a club looking object, made of hard wood and covered in blood too

what happened? did ,,,, did chittaphon,,,,,did he really kill that guy?!?!

you’re at a lose

the scene looks like a modern rendition of a medieval war painting

a beaten general standing over his cold advisory

when suddenly the back door slides open

kun is fast, shooting at the figures that emerge - but he doesn’t land a hit

you duck down, planting yourself against the side of the house and shaking as you see from the corner of your eye

that two more men are launching themselves toward chittaphon

something twists in your stomach

chittaphon can’t take two people on his own - will kun and sicheng help him?!

but chittaphon doesn’t miss a beat

with the gracefulness of a dancer, he doges the first onslaught of punches from one of the men

getting low like a snake in the grass as he retreats backward before spinning his body and propelling himself forward

the front of his foot catches on one of the mens ankles, hooking him and tripping him down onto the ground

the other man charges at chittaphon, believing he’s momentarily distracted - but chittaphon can sense him

and he flips over on his hands and out of the way

at one point you forget that they’re all fighting

chittaphon rocks back and forth, like in a trance, rising slowly as the two men regain their own balance

his eyes are swirling with endless blackness, his body lithe and pulsating with energy

the men come at him over and over, but chittaphon sweeps them with calculated and choreographed technique

at some point chittaphon rolls his body, bending his back to avoid being hit

and then hooks a hand around one of the waists of his attackers

taking him down with a power you can’t believe he posses

the club in his right hand comes down at some point, right across the spine of one and across the cheek of the other

when both men are down, kun and sicheng join in, restraining them as chittaphon steps back

the club falls down into the grass and he turns

eyes ringed red, the white shirt sticking to the parts of his body which are bloodied from his first fight

his lips are turned up - but you’re not sure if it’s a smile

his knuckles are red and raw like his palms, he looks like a panther fresh off the hunt

and at first he doesn’t realize you’re there

but then his eye catches yours

and he sees you, curled up - shaking

when he steps close, you gather what energy you have and wobble up to your feet

“don’t come near me!”

you beg, before running for the car

it’s kun that finds you in the backseat, reeling from what you just witnessed

he’s smart - so he doesn't’ say anything.

he just drives you back to your home, to your apartment that you haven’t been to in over a month

and when you find yourself in the familiarity of your bed you start crying

why am i crying? like i didn’t know chittaphon was capable of this?

it makes no sense, you don’t know why there are tears staining your cheeks and you don’t know why you can’t get the images out of your mind

chittaphon, the club in his hand, the merciless look in his eyes

the wild, almost unexplained grotesque beauty of his fighting

you hiccup, pushing back tears

wasn’t he smiling too? is this the real chittaphon i’ve been so terrified of meeting,,,,,,,,,

you don’t get to be by your own for too long

the door of your apartment opens and you hear murmured voices

none of them sound like chittaphon and you’ve exhausted yourself crying that you don’t even get up to check

at this point nothing can surprise you

“i’ll take them back to chittaphon’s place.”

“i don’t think they want to see him sicheng.”

“he knows that, that’s why he’s going back to thailand for now. im taking over.”

a short pause follows and then you hear a soft knock

“it’s kun, sicheng is going to take you back for safety reasons. you won’t see chittaphon so-”

you drag yourself up to your feet and nod

“i don’t have a choice - do i?”

neither of them answer you, sicheng’s eyes cast downward

you brush past them and feel as if you’ve lost your ability to make any decision

your freedom was stripped away when this all started, chittaphon had just tried his best to make it seem like a fun experience

but the truth was this world was violent and painful

and you didn’t want to be here anymore

but you couldn’t escape - or else you feared you’d end up like that man under chittaphon’s feet

you guess kun and sicheng were right, you don’t see chittaphon for a while

you’re sick at the thought of seeing his face again, and living in this penthouse of his doesn’t make it any better

at some point you have half a mind to destroy the marble sculptures, the perfect china, the white sheets - just as some act of defiance against this whole situation

but you aren’t a child - you refuse to throw a temper tantrum

you just say you’ll ride this out, finish this nightmare and go back to living your daily, regular life

sicheng doesn’t ask you to come around to the jung building - instead he sort of gently lets you know that everyone thinks it’s better for you to just stay inside and away from the business

you’ve seen more than enough

i didn’t think i would ever see death so vivid and so real in front of me - so messy and so disgusting

you sit at the window overlooking the city, at the people below - at the sky above

life is so fleeting, isn’t it?

sicheng comes by one evening, you’re still in the same spot - overlooking the city and even though he’s never really bothered to try and get you to talk to him before

you hear him take a seat on the couch behind you

“did you know chittaphon is trained in capoeira?”

you stay silent

“it’s why he looks like he’s dancing instead of fighting.”

sicheng shifts and you just keep blankly staring - because quite frankly it doesn’t matter what chittaphon is trained in

what matters is that he beat a person so bad that they,,,,,,,

and that he didn’t look as if he regretted it

in fact he looked like he’d enjoyed it

you clench your jaw, pull your knees into your chest and tuck your head down

sicheng doesn’t say anything more and a couple of minutes later he leaves

you don’t eat what he brings back, you’ve lost your appetite these days

and when you curl into bed you wonder why sicheng took the time to tell you that

capoeira,,,,,it’s a martial arts that incorporates dancing,,,,,,isn’t it considered an art?

there is a twinge in your gut

a deadly art ,,,,,,, what chittaphon could do with it -

you shut your eyes and try to sleep

most of the time the images of chittaphon with his bloodied body and darkened eyes come back

but this time there’s nothing

when you wake up, you expect to be alone - the padlocks on the door keeping you inside

keeping you confided inside the large walls, the priceless art and sparkling glassware

but you’re not

there are several voices coming from the living room and you strain because you really hope one of them doesn’t turn out to be chittaphon

and they don’t

instead you definitely hear sicheng and kun, but there are more this time

“it’s been two years. just let him go.”

“my father isn’t interested in letting him go, he’s a powerhouse - and the contract states that-”

kun curses in chinese,

“fuck your contract - the only person who agreed to work for your father is sicheng. i am here because of sicheng, chittaphon is only here because of yangyang.”

yangyang?

there’s a pause and then you realize the other voice belongs to jaehyun

“i know. but yangyang is under my father’s care and he will be until further notice.”

“you do know chittaphon hates it, you know you’re torturing him.”

“he agreed to do this. now, im not here to talk about chittaphon. im here to confirm that you’ve got our situation under control sicheng?”

the situation jaehyun refers to is none other than you

sicheng lies and says that you’re doing fine, you just think it’ll be safer inside than going to work everyday

jaehyun asks if you’re acting up after seeing chittaphon work and sicheng replies curtly with a “no. they’re over it.”

i don’t think i’ll ever be over it ,,,,,,,,

your mind trails off and before you know it the front door slams and the only voices left are sicheng and kun

“sicheng, let’s just find out where yangyang is and get him out of here. the beijing branch has to have some sort of information.”

“they don’t. jaehyun’s father is the only person who knows where yangyang is.”

the pieces don’t come together for you, you press your ear to the wall and try to hear the rest of the conversation

but it seems to end there

you come out a little while later, you can see sicheng has left some of his things on the coffee table and you don’t want to pry but the curiosity gets the better of you

on the table are photos of what you can only assume is of this mystery person named yangyang

he’s young in them - smiling wide and laughing

the first photo is of just him, and then the second is of him and

you graze your fingers over the face

isn’t this chittaphon?

he’s younger, his hair is a dark black and a bit longer than it is now

one hand is around yangyang’s shoulder and the two boys are cheerfully grinning at one and other

the photos looks like it’s been taken in a dance studio

maybe they used to dance together? did they maybe learn capoeira together?

the photo feels heavy in your hands, as if you’re not supposed to be looking at it

when the lock on the door suddenly clicks

the photo clatters from your hands onto the table and you turn just in time to see chittaphon walk through the door

he looks tired

worn out

and when his eyes meet yours, there’s no fairy spark - there’s no cold killer

there’s just empty, pitfalls of black

but it doesn’t matter - just seeing him brings you back to that moment

watching him raise that club up, seeing him walk away without a care, watching the blood trickle down on his face - stain his skin

it freezes you and chittaphon knows it

so he doesn’t say anything, he looks like he’s in pain - but he just walks by and into his room

“im just here to retrieve something. ill be gone soon.”

he calls from the other room and you swallow the rock that seems to have lodged in your throat

the photo you dropped catches your eye and you don’t know what overcomes you

you don’t want to look at chittaphon

you don’t want to speak to him at all

but

you want to know

“who- who is yangyang?”

the shuffling in the other room stops - chittaphon emerges

his hand bandaged up, the golden jewelry reflecting off his tan skin

“how do you know that name?”

the photo is all chittaphon needs to break down

he grips it in his hand and when you see him hang his head you start to put it all together

is ,,,,,,,,,, is yangyang the reason chittaphon works for the jungs?

he isn’t even looking at the photo anymore, just holding it and trying to level himself

“yangyang is a friend of mine,,,,,,, a younger brother kind of and -”

chittaphon gives a sad chuckle

“and he didn’t do anything to deserve the mess he’s in. actually. he’s a lot like you.”

you keep your distance, nearly the entire room is between you and him and yet you can’t mistake the softness in his voice

when he speaks about you

“he just wanted to stay by my side, you know - like any good friend and i ,,,,,, and i let him get hurt.”

chittaphon nearly chokes on the last part

“and now i just need to get him back, i need to-”

he can’t seem to finish, he just keeps looking down and his shoulders shake

“does the ceo have him?”

chittaphon nods, slowly

“he said if i do a couple of jobs, he’ll let yangyang go but it’s been two years and-”

chittaphon looks up and those endlessly black eyes turn rigid again

“and i haven’t even gotten to see him once.”

the way his voice cracks takes your breath away

what do i say? who is chittaphon? is he this vulnerable boy in front of me, or is he a sharp edged killing machine owned by the jungs,,,,,,,,,, i don’t know anymore,,,,,,

chittaphon takes in a large sigh, his chest heaves when he lets it out

“they think im a monster, that’s why they make me do all these things. they think i like it. the way people think a wolf likes the taste of blood.”

he grinds his teeth

“but i fucking hate it - these sins of mine haunt me and choke me in my sleep. im relentless, ill never give up until i see yangyang but this line of work isn’t for me.”

you want to believe him, those words ‘this line of work isn’t for me’ make so much sense

because chittaphon does not seem like a killer

he didn’t seem like one when he strolled up to you in the jungs office, when he made jokes about disobeying jaehyun with you on the yacht, when he had sat across from you - eating lunch and asking you about your plans after this all blows over

in a way you had assumed chittaphon had offered to look after you because he didn’t want you getting involved with all of this

even though his voice could go cold and his eyes could turn soulless

here he was, spread thin - begging to get out of here just like you were

“why won’t the ceo let yangyang go?”

“because i ,,,,,,”

he pauses, hesitant to continue

“because i can kill someone with my bare hands. the ceo uses me to clean up unwanted messes and intimidate people. i don’t need to point a gun like jaehyun does. i don’t need to make a deal like johnny does. i just -”

he makes a motion as if he’s crushing a bug with his palm

“i just destroy people.”

“but you don’t want to - right?”

softly, he closes his eyes and breathes

“right.”

chittaphon leaves and suddenly nothing feels real anymore

your rollercoaster of emotions about him seems to have stopped at the peak

and now you’re hanging upside down trying to figure out

do i trust him? is he not as ruthless as a i thought? is he really just doing all of this to save his friend,,,,

your first thought is to ask sicheng or kun more about yangyang, but you feel as if they’d be too reluctant to tell you

the next thought is to help chittaphon

you don’t know his history with yangyang - but the photo is enough to show that at one point there was a close bond

and if chittaphon is doing all of this just to get him back

then you assume that bond had to be thicker than blood

sicheng comes by a day later to check up on you and you talk to him for the first time

“i want to help get yangyang back.”

his eyes widen

but then he shakes his head

“that’s not business for an outsider.”

“i think i know how.”

kun doesn’t look convinced when you start to explain your plan

neither does sicheng

but chittaphon doesn’t show any kind of emotion

“basically trade me for yangyang..”

“no.”

chittaphon answers, getting up

this time he isn’t dressed in anything sparkling or rich, just black jeans and a long sleeved white shirt

a black mask hides the lower part of his face and he doesn’t think twice about hearing you out again

“bu-”

“even if the ceo agrees and we get yangyang back, you’ll die. the jungs don’t play around. they’re keeping yangyang alive only for leverage for chittaphon, but you don’t mean anything to anyone here so they’ll just kill-”

you don’t mean anything to anyone here

your eyes flick up at chittaphon and he desn’t say anything to counter it

you taken in a small breath

“that’s fine. one life is less important than two, if you get yangyang back - chittaphon will be free and so will he. you can all leave the jungs peacefully.”

chittaphon clenches his fist

“i might have blood on my hands already, but im not going to have yours.”

that ends the conversation

the only person who gives you half a sympathetic look is sicheng

kun just shakes his head

and you feel empty once they’re gone

“don’t bother yourself with this - it isn’t your business.”

the end of your six month period creeps closer and closer

chittaphon continues working under the jungs, still keeping his distance from you

but one evening he comes back - crashin onto the sofa and you see the time is inching toward three in the morning

you come out and pour a glass of water, placing it on the coffee table

“are you still scared of me?”

“no. it might not be ok, but knowing you don’t want to do those things makes me think that you’re ,,,,,,,, normal.”

he sits up, reaching out and his fingers brush your wrist

you don’t flinch

instead you let them wrap around you and pull you over to him

the living room is dark

“i can’t believe you wanted to risk your life for yangyang”

“kun was right, it was a stupid idea -”

“why were you so ready to die to help me?”

you don’t know how to answer that

to be honest you had been so confident when you had pitched the idea, you had not thought about the fact that you could

would die

“chittaphon, you’re a good person under it all right? so doing something for a good person just felt like the best op-”

he pulls you down a little harder

until you’ve ended up on top of him, his back on the couch and you supporting yourself with hands on his shoulders

“you’re brave, braver than me.”

“chittaphon-”

the position makes something swirl in your stomach, you feel awkward but you also feel butterfly wings sprout throughout

“are you ok with kissing me? would that not disgust you?”

your lips tremble a little and when you don’t disagree

he presses his mouth to yours, more gentle than you expect

“you taste sweet”

he mumbles against your skin

“you taste so pure, i feel bad for kissing you when im tainted-”

you shut him up, tired of hearing the self depreciation

and when you press yourself flush against him, chittaphon’s hands clasp at the back of your shirt as if he’s needed this more than anything in the world

“you want to save someone important. you’re a good person -”

you kiss him again, tongue sliding past his lips as he makes a sound of satisfaction against you

his hand disappears under the hem of your shirt

blunt nails against the curve of your spine

“you’re a good person forced to do bad things.”

the next morning you sit up on the couch, covered by a blanket instead of chittaphon’s warmth

there isn’t a note or anything

but you expect he’ll be back

but ,,,,, he doesn’t show up

midnight hits and the door clicks open and you jump up in anticipation

but instead of chittaphon you see ,,,,,,,,, a new face

it takes a movement, searching the clear features - slightly curled hair and pretty eyes

“y-yangyang?”

he nods, slow and then goes

“chittaphon needs you.”

you have so many questions, you want to ask yangyang how he got out

you want to ask him how he and chittaphon first met

you want to ask him how he ended up just like you - in this position of basically captivity

but for so so so much longer

but omst of all you want to know

what happened to chittaphon?

but yangyang just ushers you on the back of a motorcycle

as he flings the door open to a car parked outside of the building

you stare at the motorcycle, before the driver turns to you and flips the helmet lenses open

“im yukhei, but we’ll talk later. get on and hold me tight.”

usually you would not do this - but there have been so many ups and downs throughout this time in your life

that you throw caution to the wind and get on

yukhei starts the engine before you can even fully grip onto him and you close your eyes with fear

the wind rushes at you and you just hope that wherever chittaphon is ,,, it isn’t too far away

did he get hurt? maybe he finally got to meet yangyang and the jungs did something to him?

a million maybes circle through your mind, but you try to focus on keeping calm

you need to be prepared

because the last time you saw chittaphon as a bloody mess, you weren’t

and it had been such a horrible feeling

to your surprise yukhei and yangyang pull up in front of the jung building

yukhei jumps off the bik with ease, but you’re shaking so he has to help you down

yangyang rushes the door

and kun and sicheng are in the lobby

“where is he? i brought them-”

kun motions up and yukhei huffs

“i don’t want to see that bastard though-”

“c’mon, we have to bring them to chittaphon.”

yangyang yakes your hand, gently and you feel the blood drain from your body

you shake

because it feels like you’re about to be lead to a scene you don’t want to see

images of chittaphon

cold, motionless, and -

“he’s not dead”

yangyang assures and you swallow

“then why-”

the elevator takes you up to the last floor

the ceo’s office

where you were told not to ever go

when it opens - you see the glass enclosure all the way at the end

in front of it is jaehyun

and chittaphon

chittaphon is staring at him and jaehyun is holding a handgun at the ready

but chittaphon turns to you, unbothered by the prospect of it

“you’re here”

he smiles, and it’s been a long time since you’ve seen him do it

you nearly breakdown in tears

“wh-what’s happening?”

jaehyun doesn’t let chittaphon answer

“you’re free to go.”

“m-me? but i have half a month le-”

“chittaphon made a deal.”

chittaphon gives you a small nod

“you and yangyang are free to go, forever. you won’t be bothered by the jungs again.”

you feel your mouth go dry

“and you-?”

“he’s ours now.”

jaehyun flicks his eyes to you for only a moment and groans

“i see you bought your entourage to say goodbye too.”

he must be referring to yukhei and yangyang

“goodbye? what-”

“chittaphon - just tell them so we can go.”

chittaphon steps closer to you all and bows

“the jungs are moving me permanently to their american branch. yangyang, go home with yukhei and kun. tell sicheng i’ll see him around sometimes. and -”

his eyes settle on you

“and button, don’t you miss me too much. we had fun together, right?”

you blink

am i never seeing him again?

are yangyang, yukhei, kun, and sicheng losing him too?

is chittaphon - is he really going to america or is he -

are the jungs going to kill him -

you can’t stop your body, it moves by itself

you must have caught jaehyun off guard, because when you rush toward chittaphon

he kind of teeters backwards

and as you fling yourself into chittaphon’s arms

yukhei and yangyang dash jaehyun

somehow, yukhei twists jaehyun’s arm behind his back and the sound of the gun clattering to the floor resounds with your voice against chittaphon’s ear

“you can’t leave me now, or ever - or ever again!”

chittaphon seems to process the switch in situation faster than you

he yells something in chinese and yukhei agrees

yangyang joins you as chittaphon pulls you toward the stairs

the elevator door dings before you can get a good look

but you think you see sicheng and kun

and maybe someone else

you just follow chittaphon and yangyang tails behind you

there’s a mix of fear and a high of adrenline

chittaphon’s familiar smell, the warmth of his hand in yours

you get out of the building just in time to see another car pull up

yangyang gets into his car, with you and chittaphon - racing off before the door even properly closes

you look over yur shoulder and see that mark, johnny, and taeyong are jumping out - staring dumbfounded as yangyang’s car leaves them in the dust

your heart is beating out of your chest, but chittaphon wraps hiars arms around you

kisses at your neck and your jaw and your cheek and your nose

and you just want him to slow down so you can catching his lips in yours

but yangyang licks his tongue

“do that after we get out of korea - ok?!”

yukhei, kun, and sicheng show up a couple of hours later

you’re all hiding out in the basement of a friend of chittaphon’s from thailand and you can’t believe it

from a hostage to a fugitive,,,,what’s next,,,

but you don’t care you just feel right in chittaphon’s hold

and he doesn’t let you go, not until everyone is together

“that guy got me in the jaw - look!”

yukhei shows you a bruise running down from his neck

you tell him you’ll help him ice it but chittaphon shakes his head

“yangyang go help him, im not letting you out of my sight.”

he nuzzles into your neck and you just laugh

“so,,,,,,what now?”

kun asks, sicheng shaking his head beside him

“i can’t go back to beijing.”

“thailand is way too obvious.”

“does anyone -”

yangyang grins

“did you think i was just locked up by the jungs this whole time? i have connections.”

he takes a phone from his pocket, lets it ring once or twice before a voice answers on the other side

“yangyang?”

“hendery - do you have any room over there in macau?”

there’s a short silence and a chuckle

“im guessing you finally escaped jung hell huh? xiaojun owes me twenty bucks.”

there’s conversations on all sides, but you don’t know and can’t keep up

instead you just want to focus on having chittaphon back

you want to keep his face in your hands

his eyes on yours

“you’re free now,,,you’ll ever have to hurt someone again,,,”

you whisper and he nods, eyes on yours - hands on your waist

he leans in to kiss your lips gently

“but i will hurt someone if they ever lay a hand on you,,,”

you tilt your head to try and kiss him again, when kun cuts in

“hey lovebirds - did you forget all of us are here too?”

yukhei lets out a hearty laugh, giving kun a gently shove

“yooo leave them alone! love is the best thing in the world!”

hendrey over the phone: wait. what did i miss.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #chittaphon scenarios #ten scenarios #ten imagines #ten au #chittaphon imagines #chittaphon au #blood/#suggestive themes #weapons/#regular au #me cramming everyone in wayv into this au: looks like im legit gonna end up writing aus for you all too

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doe-eyeddarlin · 4 years

Text

Oku & Josuke (separate) pegging headcanons N*fw

Sorry I haven’t been around lately, getting lost in other fandoms and my new job. I can’t promise I’ll post regularly inspiration just hit to write some nsfw for my two favorite soft bois.

Josuke

Honestly once they bring it up his ears perk up (he’s definitely thought about it just didn’t want to ask). He doesn’t even try to act hesitant he’ll ask just what you had in mind.

The two of you will go online to check out toys and eventually order something you’re both comfortable with (it’ll most likely be something modest in size and look pretty non threatening, brightly colored not too realistic).

When it comes you can tell he’s excited and can’t wait to actually see you with the harness around your bare hips. His face gets very red just thinking of it and he can feel his entire body getting warm.

He doesn’t need much reassurance when the time comes, in fact he’s pretty confident. Even lavishing you with compliments on how amazing you look, just how he’d pictured in his mind.

He’s already on the bed laying on his stomach in his boxers, he doesn’t need any direction but you’re welcome to be more dominant. When you’re climbing on top of him kissing the nape of his neck and his broad shoulders, that’s when he starts losing his composure.

When he hears you whisper to take the rest of his clothes off and feels you tug on the band of his boxers, there’s shivers down his spine. He is ready and clumsily helps you take them off.

You reach for the lube on the bed side stand putting it in you hand gliding it against the shaft of the toy. He’s much less patient than usual and more desperate as you push against his entrance. His response is a quiet whimper that turns to a pleased hum as you ease the toy farther in. Not before long he’s repositioned himself on all four and your pace becomes more steady. With each rhythmic movement delighted hums turn to moans and pants of your name. As he get closer he reaches for the shaft of his cock and starts rubbing in tandem with each snap of your hips into him. At this point he’s an absolute mess (his perfect pompadour not so perfect, tussled and strands damp with sweat). He begs for you to go faster and harder, his pants of your name turns to a full on cry as you hit just the right spot while his hand works his cock. You give his shoulder a soft bite as he cums and slowly pull out of him, he rolls to his back huffing in blissful exhaustion.

Okuyasu

He’ll be all bluster about it, “Anything for you babe I can Handel it!”. He’s pretty excited it’s something he’s curious about. He’s a bit more brazen with the toys he picks, anything you want. He’ll set his limits of course, nothing comically huge but other than that he’s fine.

He’s really just concerned how are you gonna get pleasure from this if the toy is just attached to you. You might have to explain that it’s a kink and that that’s how it gets you off. Honestly he’s not fully convinced, he’ll even ask if he can go down on you afterward just to make sure you get yours.

When the two of you shop for said toy he’s like a kid in a candy store (woah there’s so many colors and styles) he can’t just pick one. “What’s your favorite babe? I can’t choose”.

Once you pick one with some of his specification he’s over the moon, he want hold it. That feels really nice in his hand and he’s turned on thinking about how it’s gonna feel inside.

Sure he’s excited but he’s red from head to toe, he’s gonna need more reassurance than Josuke.

He’s on the bed on all fours already naked but a tiny bit nervous. You’re kissing his neck, shoulders, and his cheek asking if he’s ok. “We don’t need to if you don’t want to” you say gently. He shakes his head in reply, and makes it clear he want to he’s just not sure what to expect.

You lube up the toy and rub it against his hole as you softly rest one hand on the small of his back. He lets out a low hum giving you permission to proceed and let’s his hand find the soft flesh between his thighs. As you sink deeper inside his fingers curl around his cock and start slowly stroking himself.

The more you find your rhythm he follows along panting and grunt out sounds of ecstasy. (The more noise you make the louder he gets). It’s not long before loses control starts cursing and cums, shortly after uttering how much he loves you. He whimpers as you pull out and nearly collapses on the bed thighs twitching from pleasure, not at all concerned with the mess he’s made. After he catches his breathe he’s determined lap you up until you’re completely satisfied.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #josuke part 4 #Oku #n*fw text #smut

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raspberryparker · 5 years

Text

all to myself | h.o.

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader — Enemies to Lovers AU

complete masterlist

word count: 4.5k summary: you’re certain haz is just out to sabotage your friendship with tom. so when you get a chance to talk to him about alone, he reveals his true colours. warnings: was this fic an excuse to write gratuitous smut? mayhaps no. that being said, here’s the n*fw warning. smut: unprotected sex wrap your tool, kids, biting, dirty talk, dom/sub, body worship, slight spanking.. if im missing any please tell me.

requests: closed | commissions: open add yourself to my taglist! like my work? check out my commissions!

━━━━━━━━

You really didn’t want to be in this situation.

Your fingers toyed with the straw in the glass in front of you as watched the bubbles from the carbonation rise slowly from the bottom. Maybe if you concentrated hard enough, you’d float off like one of them and finally be able to escape this terrible fate.

How did this even happen?

Oh right. It was his fault.

“Ah shit, mate,” Tom had sighed over the phone. “I forgot about today.”

“That’s fine,” you said, pouring yourself a cup of tea. “That’s why I called you. Wanted to make sure you were still up for it. If you’re busy we can reschedule, though.”

“I can’t do that to you,” he insisted. “You know I’m gonna be busy for the next little while. Got that new movie coming up…”

“And you still won’t tell me what it is,” you laughed. “I’m proud of you, Thomas. I’m surprised you haven’t spoiled anything yet.”

“I’d like to think I’ve matured, Y/N,” he teased, obviously miffed you called him by his full name. “Besides, last time that happened—”

“Marvel beat your ass, yes I know. Fine, you don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re so understanding.”

“It’s just who I am,” you grinned. You knew he could probably hear it in your voice through the phone. “So you still want to get lunch today? A final send-off before you devote yourself to your craft and forget about my existence?”

“As if I could forget you,” he laughed. “I’d die without you, mate. But yeah, lunch today is good. There is one thing, though.”

“I love things.”

“I don’t think you’ll like this particular thing.”

You pressed the phone between your shoulder and ear, holding it in place as you pressed you brought your tea up to your lips and blew gently on it to cool it down.

“Okay, now you’ve got me interested.”

“Well,” he began. “I forgot about today because we planned it a few weeks ago and I’m really sorry, but Harrison and I had made plans to hang out somewhere today so… can he come?”

“Uh,” you said, your brow furrowing. “Yes? Why wouldn’t he be able to come?”

“You two don’t exactly get along,” he laughed nervously. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable because it’s totally on me that I forgot about today so if you want I can—”

“Tom, it’s fine,” you sighed. “It’s not like we hate each other.”

“You say that and yet…”

“Shut up, idiot.”

“Okay, so that’s a yes?” he asked, not denying the fact that he was an idiot.

“Of course of it is,” you’d replied.

Oh, how naive you were. Of course, it wasn’t going to go well.

And besides, Harrison had no right to look that good for a simple lunch. He looked like he’d just walked off a red carpet. Not even Tom, who was sitting beside him sipping casually on a coke as he raised an eyebrow at you, looked that… good.

Harrison wasn’t even doing anything important. He was just looking off to the side, probably ogling a waitress or something, as he brought a chip up to his lips and bit down.

You swallowed harshly as he did.

His hair was styled perfectly, the front of it upswept and brushed to the side, revealing the entirety of his grossly perfect face. The sharp edge of his jawline moved as he chewed, and you watched the bounce of the muscles along the length of it and had to bring your glass of water up to your lips. The denim jacket that clung to his shoulders gripped his frame perfectly and it was just so unfair.

Good thing it was almost over.

“Are you doing anything after this?” you asked Tom, hoping to break the silence.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I have a meeting to go to. And I actually—” he paused, bringing his watch up to look at the time. “—should get going.”

“Sure,” you said. “I can get the bill.”

“No,” Tom said. “I got it. Oh, and before I forget, you left some clothes at our flat. Been meaning to give them back but I keep forgetting. Harrison washed them for you so if you’re not busy you can go grab them right now.”

“You did?” you asked incredulously, looking at Harrison.

He shrugged, crystal blue eyes refusing to meet yours as he continued to munch on the remainder of his food.

“Yeah, he did,” Tom smiled. He stood and grabbed the jacket from the back of his chair, slinging it over an arm as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his wallet. “He can drive you there if you want. You’re not busy later, right?”

The question was directed toward Harrison. His mouth opened, gaping like a fish for a moment before he caught your gaze. He sighed and shrugged.

“Yeah, I suppose I can,” he agreed.

“Awesome,” Tom smiled. “I’ll go pay, you two get going. I’m gonna be late again, but fuck it.”

After saying goodbye to Tom, complete with a hug and him complaining about how you messed up his hair when you ruffled it gently, you followed Harrison to his car. It wasn’t exactly a perfect day, but it was nice; as nice at it could get in London. The sun was completely obscured by the clouds but it wasn’t raining so, of course, he had the top down.

He stepped around to driver’s side and got in, eyeing you carefully as you reached over and put your bag in the backseat before opening the door to the passenger side and getting into the car. He hadn’t even bothered to open the door for you. Not that you were mad, you could open your own door. But why would he do something like that for you?

The ride to Tom and Harrison’s flat was nothing short of awkward. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Until you decided you’d had enough.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Harrison turned to you for a moment before focusing back on the road ahead of him, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Depends on the reason you’re asking,” he said. It was the first thing he’d said to you since the restaurant and it was already making you grind your teeth together.

“I know you heard us planning lunch a few weeks ago,” you said. “You live with him. Why of all days do you have to plan to hang out on the day that we were supposed to go to lunch?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

You turned to your right, glancing at him, and saw the smile that crept up on his face. The corner of his lips tilted upward even though he was keeping his eyes on the road. His hair flew wildly about his face in the wind. You shook your head, slumping into your seat.

“Unbelievable.”

When you arrived at the flat, it was even worse.

Harrison turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, throwing his keys onto the kitchen table once you both stepped in. You shut the door behind you and watched as he tugged off his jacket one sleeve at a time. He threw it onto the back of the couch, leaving him only in a grey t-shirt that hugged his arms a little too beautifully, and turned to you with a sigh.

“Your stuff’s in the laundry room,” he said. “You can go grab it and then you can go.”

You were taken aback for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, brushing a hand through his hair. “You obviously don’t wanna be here any longer than you have to ‘cause Tom’s not here so…”

“No, wait,” you said, crossing your arms and stepping toward him. “I want to talk about this. Why do you hate me? What have I done for you to dislike me so much, I don’t get it.”

Harrison sighed again, his hand still in his hair.

“Do we have to do this right now?”

“Why not,” you said. You took a seat at the kitchen table as he leaned on the back of the couch. “We’re both here. Tom’s not here. Might as well get it all out in the open.”

“I’d really rather not—”

“Just tell me, Harrison,” you sighed. “I’m sick of this. Don’t you think we should resolve this for Tom’s sake? It’s tearing him apart. You’re his best friend and practically his fourth brother, and he’s my best friend. He’s all I’ve got out here. I don’t wanna make his life miserable because we don’t get along.”

“Fine,” Harrison said. “You wanna know what I think?”

“I do.”

“I’m scared,” he admitted, though his expression was serious. Almost angry, in fact. “Because every other girl who’s ever stepped foot in this flat claiming to be Tom’s ‘friend’ has only wanted two things—” he listed them off on his fingers as he spoke. “—sex and money. And my brother, because you said it yourself, he’s my brother, has to get his heart broken over and over because girls want to take advantage of him solely because of who he is. And frankly? I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“You really think I’d do that?” you asked. Your expression was sad, brows furrowed as you stood from your spot and stepped toward him. “Harrison, I love Tom. I’m so far from home and he’s my closest friend; fuck, he’s my only friend. Why would I give that up? I don’t care about his money, I care about him as a person.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought you of all people would be able to see that with how much time I spend in your damn apartment.”

“Flat,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, whatever.”

He glanced up at you then, surprised at the chuckle at left your lifts with those words. His eyes were wide and curious as if he’d never seen you laugh before. You shook your head as you smiled to yourself, biting your lips as you met his eyes again. From his position leaning against the couch, he was just about eye level with you, and you saw his lips break into the first real smile—not a smirk or a snigger—but a real smile as he laughed quietly under his breath.

“Do you believe me now?” you asked softly.

“I always believed you,” he said. Your brows furrowed as he looked up and met your gaze. “I… I guess I was jealous, too. You spend so much time with Tom, you’re so close, I guess I was keeping you away from him for my sake too.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I don’t think I could take it if you and Tom did end up together,” he admitted. His cheeks were beginning to glow a little redder as he spoke. “So I guess I was trying to keep you all to myself.”

“I thought you hated me,” you admitted, stepping forward.

He laughed mirthlessly, his shoulder shaking as he looked down at his lap.

“Are you joking?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “First time Tom brought you home I almost thought I’d died.”

“What are you—”

“‘Here’s this angel,’ I said to myself. ‘And she’s with Tom. Again.’ I always end up third-wheeling around him and his past girlfriends. I thought I’d have to live through that again. But it was…. different.”

He sighed and looked up to meet your gaze. His ice blue eyes looked sad.

“It hurt a little more with you,” he admitted. “Because you’re… so beautiful. And I was jealous. Tom always gets the pretty girls.”

“I’m not that pretty,” you muttered.

“You are,” he replied, eyes serious. “You don’t see it but you are.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and throwing your arms up in exasperation. You stepped toward him until your feet were almost touching.

“Then why didn’t you talk to me?” you asked. “Why didn’t you… say anything?”

“Guess I was scared.”

You smiled softly, grinning at him.

“If anyone was scared it was me,” you said. He looked up at you in confusion. “I thought the hottest guy I knew hated me. And if that wasn’t a blow to the old self esteem, I don’t know what is.”

“You…” he began, but trailed off when you stepped closer to him, standing between his legs. He looked almost afraid.

His hand was shaking as he brought it up under your chin, gripping your jaw with such a delicacy, it was like he was handling the finest porcelain in the world.

And the smirk was back, but you only saw it for a fraction of a second, before his large, warm hands were cupping your cheeks and he pulled you softly in. His lips were so warm, much softer than you expected but it was so good, almost too good as you pushed into him. Harrison’s hands moved from your cheeks down your arms, tracing the curves of your waist before he squeezed your ass. You gasped into his mouth, pulling away as you rested your forehead against his. He was panting, breath hot on your wet lips.

“Been wanting to feel that ass for so long,” he whispered.

You moaned out loud, pressing into his chest.

Harrison’s lips moved down your neck and along your jaw, nipping at certain places and sucking on others. He stood from his spot on the back of the couch and suddenly his mouth was at a much better angle. It felt like he was swallowing you whole and you loved it. He tapped your thigh before giving it a squeeze, and you raised it up his leg. He placed his hands underneath your thighs and hoisted you up against him, and as you rose you felt his clothed hardness brush against your core and he rumbled against your throat at the friction.

With your hands in his hair, ruining the perfect style that you’d admired from earlier, he tried to maneuver through the flat as best as he could, trying to find his bedroom.

He shoved the door open, walking you towards his bed until his knees hit the edge of it and he lowered you down against it. You let him go as you lay on your back against his sheets, face flushed and chest rising and lowering with each heavy breath. He stood for a moment longer, admiring your spread form on his bed.

All for him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured

“Stop,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your chest even though you were still fully clothed.

“No, no, no, darling,” he smiled, kneeling over you and pulling your hands away. You gave little resistance, allowing him to move you like a doll. “Let me see you.”

Fingertips trailing down your abdomen, Harrison found the bottom of your shirt and tugged it upwards. He kissed along the soft skin of your stomach as he moved it up, lips following the hem as he slowly pulled it off of you. When he’d finally tugged it off, he loomed over you and smiled.

“You’re perfect, love,” he murmured. His hands slipped underneath your back and undid the clasp of your bra, taking both that and your shirt and throwing them somewhere into his room. His palm found the mound of one of your breasts, kneading it softly as you threw your head back against the mattress and moaned. He took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, sucking harshly as he pinched your nipple. “And you’re all mine.”

Harrison’s attention returned to your breast, his hand still massaging one but his lips finding the nipple of the other. He rolled his teeth over the hardened bud, never quite biting but allowing you to feel the edge of them against it.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “All yours. Only yours, oh fuck.”

“Sound so pretty for me, Y/N,” he sighed. His tongue circled the nipple under his mouth before giving it a hard suck. “Gonna moan like that when I fuck you?”

“Oh my go—fuck.”

You could barely form words, your brain not even noticing that he’d stopped playing with your breast and his hands were already pushing your pants down your legs. He pulled away from you, helping you out of the jeans you wore and spreading your legs in front of him with his hands on your knees.

“Gonna need an answer, darling,” he teased.

“Yes,” you sighed, the words merely a breath. “Yes, I will.”

“Mmm good.”

And then one of his unfairly long fingers was on your panties, and you jumped as he circled your clit with the tip of his finger. His short nail dragged against the fabric and you tried to buck up into his touch, but he pulled away before you could.

A long whine left your lips, and he smirked from between your legs.

“Already so sensitive,” he smiled. He dragged to fingers from your folds to your clit, still over the fabric of your panties, before he pressed on the bundle of nerves with a wicked smile on his face. “Did I do this to you, love?”

“Fuck!” you moaned, hips desperately bucking into his hand. “Yes, just for you.”

“No one else makes you feel like this?”

“No—fuck me, oh my god—no one else.”

“So impatient,” he laughed. “Wanted to play with you for a bit, darling.”

You whined at the thought, imagining Harrison toying with you, making you cum again and again with his fingers or his tongue, or maybe edging you until you begged him to fuck you, making your pussy clench though it was around nothing.

“Please,” you whimpered, your hands coming up to rub at your breasts. You were desperate to feel anything. “Please fuck me, Harrison, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He was out of his clothes before you even had the chance to beg once more. His boxers were the last to go and you almost choked as you caught sight of his cock.

It was perfect, long and girthy, a drop of precum already forming at the pink tip. You were hit with an urge to lick it away, but he brushed a finger through it and spread it over the length, stroking himself gently. He was already so hard and swollen and you could feel yourself throb at the thought of it inside you.

“You ready, love?” he asked you.

Harrison lowered himself in front of you, hooking his arms under your knees and tugging you closer to him.

You nodded eagerly, hands extended to reach for him.

“Please, Harrison,” you whined.

“I’ve got you, love,” he muttered, one hand gripping yours as he intertwined your fingers and the other guiding his cock to your entrance. “I’ve got you.”

He sank home in a single thrust, and you screamed at the stretch. He was so big, far bigger than anyone else you’d ever had but he was perfect. It was delicious, the feeling of him inside you. He was hot, hard, and heavy and you felt yourself clench around him.

Harrison groaned as he felt you spasm. He lowered himself above you, pressing his nose under your chin.

“So fucking tight,” he moaned. “Fucking amazing.”

“Move,” you whimpered, hands in his hair. “Please.”

“Don’t wanna cum right away, love,” he laughed. “You that desperate for me?”

“Fuck, yes.”

His teeth found your throat, sucking the sting away and leaving a purpling mark behind as he pulled out, and you whined at the feeling. But it was short-lived, because he thrust back in again, starting a steady pace of thrusts that had your hands shaking and your abdomen tensed with each brush of his cock against your g-spot.

You were moaning like a wanton whore, loud and embarrassing in any other situation but with the weight of Harrison inside you, it seemed fitting. Whiny moans, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, hymns of “please” and “fuck” tumbling through the air between the two of you.

“Fuck, you sound so beautiful, Y/N,” he moaned. “So perfect. Could cum just from hearing you say my name.”

He was pounding into you then, hips slapping with a lewd echo of skin against skin. Your legs came up around his waist, your ankles crossing just above his ass. You pulled him by his hair gently until his face was level with yours and you kissed him fiercely, all pressure and lips mashing against teeth.

His teeth closed around your bottom lip and tugged gently, lips sucking around it.

“Fuck, darling,” he moaned. “So good.”

But then he stopped.

And as he did you whined out loud, a pained sound as you were left quivering and wanting. You gripped at his hair and tried to tug him closer, undulating your hips in a weak attempt to feel him moving inside of you again.

Harrison groaned, sucking at your jaw.

“So desperate for my cock,” he murmured against your skin. “Don’t worry, love, I’ve got you. Turn over for me.”

It was almost laughable how quickly you spun around underneath him after he pulled out, folding your arms under your head and arching your back. Your ass brushed against his cock and you heard him inhale sharply.

You jumped when his large hand collided with the supple flesh of your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me,” he said from above you. “You look gorgeous like this darling, ass in the air just begging me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whined. “Harrison, please.”

You turned your head in order to see him, cheek pressed against the mattress. You saw him stroking himself slowly as his other hand kneaded your ass. His hand came down in another quick slap and you mewled, pressing back against him. He rubbed the handprint out with his palm before he lined himself up and sunk back into you again, hands coming down around your head to hold himself up. You felt his hot breath against your shoulder blades before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss between them, just along your spine.

“So fucking perfect, baby,” he sighed. “Feel so fucking good around me.”

You moaned your response, bringing a hand up to grip at his hair. He let you guide him down as you turned your head, his mouth finding yours as he continued to pound into you from behind. Your voice shook as you whined into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Fuck, Harrison I—”

Your words were cut off with a loud shriek, your head turning back to face forward as you bit the pillow in order to silence yourself.

The only sounds you could hear were your own muffled cries and the sound of Harrison’s hips slamming against your ass over and over and over. You could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below you. It didn’t look like he would stop any time soon.

But you didn’t want him to.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he murmured.

You nodded desperately into the pillow, turning to look at him with teary eyes. The pleasure almost had you crying.

One of his hands reached around your front, fingers rubbing at your clit gently with just enough pressure to have you whimpering into the pillows under him. He hadn’t relented on the pace, still ruthlessly drilling into you with his cock. And with the added stimulation to your clit, you were almost coming undone in an instant.

“H-Harrison,” you panted. “Gonna cum. Gonna fucking cum, oh my God.”

“Yeah, love?” He was panting too, breaths heavy against the back of your neck. “God, you’re amazing.”

Your thighs were shaking around him and your head was thrown back, so close to the edge and so close to tipping over.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he whispered into your ear. “Cum all over my cock.”

With a pinched groan and a high pitched squeal, you came all over him as your hips stuttered against his hand and over his cock. Your head fell forward against the mattress with a groan.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “I can feel you clenching around me. Did I make you cum that hard? So hard just for me?”

“Please,” you whimpered. “Harrison.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m right behind you.”

And as if on cue, his hips began to stutter as he started groaning against your neck, a loud guttural moan escaping his lips as he stilled inside you. You felt the warmth of him inside you, painting your walls and you sighed in contentment.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, dragging out the word, pressing his hips into your ass as he rode out his orgasm.

He groaned as he pulled out. He gently flipped you onto your back, picking up his shirt from the floor and pressing it under your ass to catch the fluid that seeped from your folds. You laughed tiredly as he did so, and he shot you a smile.

“Towels are too far,” he explained.

Harrison took his time cleaning you up. You were already drowsy, hand running through his hair and petting him gently as he wiped his cum away. You winced a couple of times, your folds still sensitive and your pussy still throbbing from the aftermath of your orgasm but it was… calming.

When he was done, he threw the shirt into his hamper, gripping you close to his chest and laughing as he pulled you up to his pillows.

“That was,” he began, curling his body around yours and bringing a knee up between your thighs. “The best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Shut up,” you muttered. Your cheeks were still red.

He kissed the back of your neck, sighing as he settled into a comfortable position. “Never.”

From somewhere on the floor, there was the buzz of a phone. Harrison groaned from behind you.

“I’ll grab it,” you muttered, reaching down until you felt the fabric of his pants and tugged it up.

Patting around it until you felt the weight of his phone, you tugged it out of the pocket and struggled to find the button to turn it on because who has an Android anymore?

Glancing at the screen, you laughed out loud as you read the most recent text notification. Harrison peeked up from over your shoulder, and though you couldn’t see it, you knew his eyes grew wide as he saw it.

Tom: how’d it go? you tell her how you feel yet? it’s hard getting you two alone, you know

Reaching over, he pulled the phone from your hands, muttering “fucking dickhead” under his breath.

“You weren’t meant to see that,” he admitted.

“Yeah, maybe,” you admitted, turning over in his arms so you could face. You gripped his cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.

He smiled gently at you.

“But I’m glad I did.”

━━━━━━━━

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thesportssoundoff · 5 years

Text

“A very weird card for a very weird month” UFC Fight Night: Weidman vs Reyes Preview

Joey

October 14th, 2019

It's Octobr and the UFC's scheduling usually goes like this in my estimation:

Jan- New year, we're all excited, folks get injured, overpacked shows in December hurt the new year but we deal with it.

Feb- Injuries/cold means makeshift cards, people get mad.

March- Shows are a bit fatter, big title fights are coming around, people are excited.

April- The "set up" for the summer months, usually really good fight cards on paper with little to no name value.

May- Normally the "bad" PPV month, free events are good.

June- The last month before things get wild and wooly. PPV's tend to be damn good, free cards tend to be pretty balanced.

July- Everything has to be BIG so you get BIG PPV and then an event or two after the PPV that drag down the blocks average.

August- The end of the summer, injuries get heavy because of the seasonal change, focus is on prepping for November and December.

September- OH MY GOD EVERYBODY IS HURT! EVERYTHING IS REALLY WEIRD! THERE'S SO MUCH GOING ON!

October- The down month where they're scrapping and salvaging just to get to MSG. Shows are pretty much whatever they can put together without working too hard. Usually where they do some kind of weird Canadian card. The cards tend to bounce between "This is surprisingly good" and "I don't have the time or the energy for this".

November- IT'S MSG! IT'S LOADED! What about the rest of the month? Ah, okay then. Carry on.

December- The end of the year where they try to end with a bang. Normally a lot of drama, prep for 2020. We get fights announced for next year that usually top what we're being offered this year. Big PPV to end things on the right note.

This card is pretty much 100% October. You have a kind of weird but kinda good main event at the top of the bill, a really good yet weird co-main event under it, a really weird but kinda good HW fight and then a bunch of Northeast projects and prospects. If you remove the top three fights, finding the next good fight that is objectively good might depend on how you feel about Gillian Robertson vs Maycee Barber. Me personally I think you can do far, far worse than Barber vs Robertson and actually quite like the fight as a good test for Maycee Barber. After that? You have some highly touted prospects coming off losses (Manny Bermudez, Randy Costa, Boston Salmon), some guys off the Contenders Series trying to find their niche (Brendan Allen, Sean Woodson, Jonathan Pearce) and a bunch of filler. It's kinda not bad filler though? Everything about this card is just weird, folks. Bare with.

Fights: 13

Debuts: Tanner Boser, Brendan Allen, Sean Woodson, Sean Brady, Diana Belbiţă, Ben Sosoli, Jonathan Pearce

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: (Zabit Magomedsharipov vs Calvin Kattar CANCELLED/Eric Spicely OUT, Kevin Holland IN vs Brendan Allen)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC): 5 (Greg Hardy, Jeremy Stephens, Yair Rodriguez, Chris Weidman, Joe Lauzon)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC: 1 (Joe Lauzon)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC: 6 (Dominick Reyes, Chris Weidman, Greg Hardy, Gillian Robertson, Maycee Barber, Kevin Holland)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2017 (in the UFC): 24-15

Chris Weidman- 1-2 Dominick Reyes- 5-0 Jeremy Stephens- 3-3 (1 NC) Yair Rodriguez- 2-1 (1 NC) Greg Hardy- 2-1 Ben Sosoli- 0-0 Joe Lauzon- 1-3 Jonathan Pearce- 0-0 Gillian Robertson- 4-1 Maycee Barber- 2-0 Deron Winn- 1-0 Darren Stewart- 3-4

Fights By Weight Class (yearly number here):

Featherweight- 3 (52) Women’s Flyweight- 2 (31) Middleweight- 2 (40) Heavyweight- 2 (31) Welterweight- 1 (62) Light Heavyweight- 1 (39) Bantamweight- 1 (53)

Lightweight- (66) Women’s Strawweight- (26) Flyweight- (15) Women’s Featherweight- (8) Women’s Bantamweight- (18)

2019 Number Tracker

Debuting Fighters (33-55-1)- Tanner Boser, Brendan Allen, Sean Woodson, Sean Brady, Diana Belbiţă, Ben Sosoli, Jonathan Pearce

Short Notice Fighters (28-35)- Kevin Holland

Second Fight (52-34)- Randy Costa, Boston Salmon, Deron Winn

Cage Corrosion (Fighters who have not fought within a year of the date of the fight) (20-37-1)- Charles Rosa, Joe Lauzon, Daniel Spitz

Undefeated Fighters (35-37-2)- Dominick Reyes, Sean Woodson, Maycee Barber

Fighters with at least four fights in the UFC with 0 wins over competition still in the organization (11-8)-

Weight Class Jumpers (Fighters competing outside of the weight class of their last fight even if they’re returning BACK to their “normal weight class”) (29-20)- Chris Weidman, Manny Bermudez

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- Why is a New York vs New York fight taking place in Boston? I know that might not matter from a lot of folks but as the guy who grew up with boxers headlining in their home markets, this irks me.

2- I feel like this main event almost depends entirely on how you view Volkan Oezdemir as a fighter. The last time we saw Dom Reyes, he was given a really hard tough fight against Volkan Oezdemir in London. I don't think "robbery" is fair but I do think if you scored it for Volkan then you have a justifiable grumble about him losing that decision. What has gone under the radar is that Reyes did a tremendous job to adjust to what wasn't working and mix in more work to the body to keep it close and then the general rule of "win the third round, win the fight" wins out. I think there's no shame in a young prospect getting tested on his way up the ranks and managing to get by. You'd rather see warts now than in the middle of the first round of a title fight. Also Volkan Oezdemir is proving to be a pretty good quality 205er who even in his losses has moments of success. As such, I'm left to wonder if folks are a bit too harsh on a dude who iced Jared Cannonier, had no issues with OSP and remains the most exciting LONG TERM prospect at 205 lbs.

3- Is it too late for Chris Weidman? Despite the calls of folks to move up in weight, Weidman held off until seemingly all options were exhausted at 185 lbs. The fact of the matter and the unbearable truth is that Chris Weidman's style was based all on his durability and versatility simply fell apart when he needed it the most. He couldn't withstand the wars he was putting himself in at 185 lbs and his wrestling isn't as advertised anymore. At the same time, he still subbed Kelvin Gastelum, has a Hall of Fame worthy resume and enters a division where mid tier MWs are having breakout runs to title shots. Weidman can still crack, has a variety of offensive tools in his backpocket and in SPURTS he's still a good wrestler. Weidman's biggest problem for me as a wrestler has always been his lack of control once fights hit the turf but maybe cutting less weight will help. Then again Luke Rockhold didn't get much help in that regard either.

4- Here's how I'm beginning to feel about guys from 185 lbs going up to 205 lbs. If you're an athlete (Thiago Santos, even Anthony Smith to some degree) then it can work because the athletic barometer at 205 is better than HW but lowert han any other weight class. Guys who are fast at 185 lbs will remain fast at 205 lbs because that travels. They're also likely to hit a lot harder given the increase in weight. That said, if you're slow or clunky, no amount of weight cutting is going to fix that. Luke Rockhold simply looks and perhaps may just be a slow and clunky guy. Against Jan Blachowicz, he LOOKED like a heavier version of his usual self. What makes me worried about Chris Weidman and his chances at 205 lbs is that he's slow, clunky and kind of sort of broken. I don't think his body and his (lack of) speed will travel much at 205 lbs.

5- So who is hurt more by having to cut weight again for this fight, Yair or Jeremy Stephens? I kind of think it'll be Yair but I also saw him show up on two weeks notice to fist fight the Korean Zombie.

6- I really hope there's a chance, honestly and truthfully, that Joe Lauzon calls it quits win or lose. Lauzon feels like one of those guys who would be better suited in his personal life giving up the ghost and embracing the next phase.

7- This feels like the first real card to roll out the Contenders Series for season 3 so I'll break down who is whom and how they got here:

HW Ben Sosoli faces Greg Hardy- Sosoli is an Aussie kickboxer who made the MMA transition, fought on TUF and emerged on the DWCS in season 3. He had a "no contest" but was on his way to winning the fight before an eye poke (by him) ended the fight. Sosoli is being brought in to have a slugfest with Hardy.

LW Jon Pearce has a pretty crazy story. He was in a coma after getting jumped by somebody at his gym after hours. He recovered and fights like every southeastern dude who has ever fought in the UFC; basically scrapping when he wants to and wrestling out of trouble when he has to. I would say "He's the kind of guy who can give Joe Lauzon trouble" but I think at this point anybody with a working pulse gives him trouble.

FW Sean Woodson is REAL interesting. He took on a super prospect in his DWCS fight and struggled with the consistent wrestling----then he hit one of the cooler flying knees ever and scored a walk off second round KO. Dana even admitted that his finish was TOO good to not get signed despite the concerns he had about his wrestling.

MW Brendan Allen is your yearly "LFA has a middleweight champ and we gotta sign him" guy. He's accomplished-ish at 12-3 with some losses to good competition (Anthony Hernandez and Eryk Anders are both having solid runs). He's a violent kinda dude but I think he's a step below Ian Heinisch and Anthony Hernandez IE: he's kinda sketchy.

8- Boston Salmon was a really hyped L(R)FA prospect, the kind of guy who the UFC normally signs before he's ready and rushes out there. Salmon won on the DWCS in Season One and disappeared, re-emerging this year before losing in ugly fashion in his first fight with the organization. We've detailed here how badly debuting fighters struggle but also how much better they do in their second go around. Of course the same could be said for his opponent Boston Salmon. I guess win or lose, I think Salmon's going to look worlds better than he did in his debut. It couldn't in theory have looked much worse?

9- I wish I knew about Molly McCann's opponent so I could somewhat excited about her fight upcoming. Diana Belbita lost to Ariana Lipski who Molly McCann beat so....I dunno dudes.

10- I wonder how many fighters people would know off of this main card. 4 or 5 tops? Manny Bermudez, Molly McCann, Kevin Holland and then?

11- So let's talk about Kevin Holland briefly, shall we? Holland's UFC run has been weird to say the least. Holland debuted on short notice against THIAGO SANTOS (!), took all of Santos' best offense and somehow lived to tell the tale about it. In large part, Holland's ability to just talk copious amounts of shit no matter the circumstance endeared him to UFC fans and supporters. In the end, Holland got his best opportunity and since then the UFC has taken it slow and steady with him. Holland has wins over John Phillips, Gerald Meerschaert and most recently a close decision win over Alessio Di Chirico. Holland's rep as an action fighter is overstated (as is most of his game) but to go 3-1 in the UFC under any circumstances is pretty solid. He's the sort of guy who doesn't like to work too hard theoretically but lacks the middle ground to carry himself beyond that point. Yet he's so gifted, long and determined that he tends to be able to get by doing the bare minimum. Brendan Allen is probably going to give him plenty of opportunities to be offensive if he wants to be but that's entirely up to Holland and his mentality.

12- The last time we saw him, Deron Winn was having a FOTN style war with Eric Spicely on short notice. Winn has a lot of "poor man's DC" about him which is a really unfair comparison but I can't think of a guy that short in a weight class who prioritizes the same arsenal of strikes that he does other than DC. He gets a kind of risky step up in competition with Darren "The Dentist" Stewart. Stewart has a bit of a funky UFC record, he started his run 0-3 and then hit a stride of sorts since then, going 3-1 with the sole loss being a super close split decision to MW prospect Edmen Shahbazyan. Stewart hits really hard and has found some tremendously timely resolve with his takedown defense, creating a sort of fight that should be closer on paper than some folk might realize.

#MMA #UFC #ESPN 2 #Weidman #Reyes #Fights #Yair #Jeremy Stephens #DWCS #Boston

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impracticaldemon · 6 years

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Ikesen Fanfiction ~ Chaos Theory: Sasuke Ch.1

by Impracticaldemon for @iamaikotachibana (and myself!)

Warning: No ns//fw. Yet. Suggestive hints. A second chapter may be in order. Let me know what you think. Words: ~ 3200 read also on FFN

Author's Note:

Sarutobi Sasuke, Ikemen Sengoku style: Astrophysicist, Ninja, BFF, always there when you need him most. I've been a fan of this character from the first time I picked up the game, but he doesn't yet have an English route. Consequently, all I can do is speculate.

His greatest opponent: butterflies. Why? Chaos theory.

Ch.1: Do You Have a Fever?

"Shitsurei shimasu."(1)

Only one person ever requested admittance to my room from the ceiling. The fact that the visitor was also very polite about it was just extra confirmation.

"Hi Sasuke, come on in—or down! It's good to see you." There was a moment's silence, but none of the ceiling panels moved. I squinted upward through the grey gloom that passed for light just before dawn. "That is—am I going to see you?"

"Yes."

Another few seconds passed, and my attempt to ask for further clarification turned into an uncontrollable sneeze. I've always hated summer colds, but having a cold is even less fun when it's 1582 and there's no ibuprofen, no lotion-infused tissues, and no knock-you-out-until-you're-better fake-cherry-flavour syrup. To be fair, Ieyasu—meaning the Tokugawa Ieyasu—had managed pretty well. His throat lozenges were first rate, although I got a little more careful after I asked about the ingredients. Unfortunately, opium was still cutting-edge medical technology in sixteenth century Japan.

[READ MORE]

The usual ceiling panel finally edged aside, and my favourite astrophysicist-ninja dropped silently into the room. He poured me a glass of water while I finished sneezing, and handed it over as soon as I was done. It was kind of him, but the fact that he wouldn't meet my eyes—or say anything—made me wonder.

"Um, Sasuke?" I coughed, and hastily swallowed some more water.

"I apologize, Chieko. I am aware that one should be more conversational when visiting a sick friend. However—" he cleared his throat, and I was tempted to offer him a cough drop. Then again, if he found out that it was from Ieyasu, he'd probably try to keep it in a special souvenir box until it dissolved into a puddle of opium-laced honey and herbs.

Sasuke tried again, still not meeting my eyes, or even looking in my general direction. "I assure you that I did not wish to be rude. However, I have been evaluating alternate methods for informing you of a slight, ah, wardrobe malfunction. I would have preferred not to embarrass you, but I am forced to employ the direct approach."

Naturally, I missed most of his last sentence, having quickly looked down to see what was wrong. As it turned out, my soft nightrobe had come partially loose from its ties—probably during the coughing fit that had woken me earlier—and there was a very noticeable gap down the center of my chest. The light shawl around my shoulders did little to cover the view. On top of that, perspiration had made the fabric cling to the little that was still semi-modestly concealed.

I could feel myself blushing as I quickly corrected the 'wardrobe malfunction'. Sasuke had tactfully gone to stand beside the window, with his back to me. While I put things right, and arranged the shawl more strategically, I promised myself to give up Ieyasu's cold remedies altogether. Only drugs could account for inviting Sasuke into the room without at least checking that I was decent. I snuck a quick peek in the small hand-mirror I had nearby, and concluded that while I was no longer a candidate for page three of a tabloid, I wasn't going to win any prizes for 'what to wear when a cute guy drops in from the ceiling'. Then again—but I put a quick lock on those thoughts right away. Sasuke wasn't your average guy, and I was pretty sure he didn't realize he was cute.

"All set, Sasuke, sorry about that—I'm a little out of it with this cold." And possibly the opium. Personally, I'm blaming Ieyasu's happy candies. I kept it casual, figuring that would alleviate our mutual embarrassment. It's not like there'd been that much on display, more that context was important with clothes, and this was Sengoku Japan, and I was sitting in bed. I'll bet he's nice to cuddle with, suggested some part of my—probably drugged—brain. For obvious reasons, that particular 'little voice' sounded a lot like Mitsuhide to me these days. Shut up Akechi, I snarled at it, not helping.

Sasuke had turned around, and was looking at me very strangely.

"Did you just tell Akechi Mitsuhide to shut up?" he asked, his face as politely neutral as usual, but still—somehow—faintly puzzled. "Do you have a fever, Chieko?"

He looked very serious—or at least, that's what he managed to convey. Without warning, he put his left wrist to my forehead.

I stifled a yelp of surprise, and tried not to lean farther against his hand. My body, possibly goaded on by the Mitsuhide-voice, or just fatigue, disobeyed me. It was a nice hand, I thought, sinewy and a little calloused, but much stronger than it looked. I guess you had to be pretty strong to be a first-class ninja. I wondered vaguely—not for the first time—how he'd managed to make the transition from graduate student in physics to Uesugi Kenshin's top shinobi. Maybe he'd already been training just in case he ever made it to the Sengoku?

"I don't think you have a fever," Sasuke told me, his—really very attractive, don't you think? Shut UP or I'll… fine, they're pretty nice—brown eyes surveying me closely, "but it's hard to tell. You do appear to be flushed, and rather shaky, both indicators of a febrile condition." He blinked at me from behind his glasses, then put both hands lightly on my shoulders to support me while he sat down. I was impressed by how gracefully he could attain a cross-legged position without allowing me to wobble.

Gracefully? Really? All he did was sit down. And don't pretend you didn't appreciate his legs and—

"I have a headache," I said aloud, to drown out my own personal Mitsuhide. "But I wasn't feeling hot until"—the rational part of my brain suddenly fused in panic, aware a few moments too late that I was about to say something that could be misconstrued.

Sasuke waited politely for me to finish, then frowned a little.

"Chieko, did the castle pharmacist give you anything for your cold? I don't mean to be in any way less than complimentary—because I must agree with Lord Shingen that it is counter-productive to be ungracious when a lovely lady—excuse me, those were his words, I'm afraid—is already feeling under the weather—however, your pupils are a little dilated and—"

"Opium," I said firmly. I'd lost track of his sentence, but I'd gotten the gist.

"Oh."

"I guess there's no ibuprofen in the sixteenth century, huh?"

I'd been expecting the ninja-physicist version of "ha ha—no," but Sasuke suddenly looked visibly upset. It was unusual for his face to display such obvious emotion. His eyes slid sideways, and despite the uncertain lighting, I thought he was blushing.

"Sorry, Chieko. This is my fault."

I looked at him uncertainly. "It's your fault that they treat pain with alcohol and opium in Sengoku Japan?"

"Er, not that. Although it's been fascinating to find out that medical science is more advanced during this period than I'd expected." His eyes shifted back to me. "Which has been quite fortunate for me, of course. But that wasn't what I meant to tell you."

"Alright." I could feel fatigue creeping through my limbs, but somehow preferred to have Sasuke with me—even at literal arm's-length—than be alone in my futon. So? Maybe you could change that? NO! That's not what I meant! It's just nice to have a friend around when you're sick! A distinctly Cheshire-cat smile below two gleaming yellow eyes seemed to float before me, and I instinctively batted at it, knocking Sasuke's glasses askew. "Argh! Sorry, Sasuke!"

"Um, no, that's fine. No harm done. But if I may ask—" he removed a hand from my shoulder in order to fix his glasses, which seemed to take him longer than usual—"has Lord Mitsuhide been bothering you? You keep mentioning him."

I did? "No, no—well, not exactly."

"Lord Shingen says that—"

Before Sasuke could lose me in another three- or four-part sentence, I gave in to my inner Mitsuhide, and genuine fatigue, and let my head and body fall toward Sasuke. As expected, he moved immediately to catch me, ninja reflexes making up for the fact that he'd been looking away again when I toppled. I found myself rather comfortably cradled against his chest, with his arms around me and one hand gently supporting my head. He was warmer than I'd expected.

"…Sorry," I mumbled, not very sincerely. My head still hurt, and I was probably going to cough again sooner or later, but this was nice. Somewhere under the ninja tunic was a solid, well-muscled chest. Always a good thing in a physicist. You never knew when you'd need to wrestle with an interdimensional wormhole. Or be there for a sick friend.

"…Chieko?" His arms didn't move, which was encouraging. He obviously wasn't repelled by my weird behaviour. In fact, I could've sworn that his hand carefully brushed my cheek. I didn't feel inclined to go anywhere, so I let my eyes close all the way and snuggled closer. My inner voice remained silent, but I could tell it was smirking at me.

Sasuke appeared to at a loss as to what to do next, but somebody—probably Lord Shingen, based on what I'd heard so far—had obviously warned him not to jostle a sick woman who wasn't at her best. I silently thanked the absent enemy warlord for his assistance. And his absence. Because having Shingen in my room would quickly result in a lot of very sharp blades being much too close for comfort. A thought tickled at my sleepy brain. Sasuke, being a genius, put it into words.

"Chieko, I have to go soon. Lord Mitsuhide is quite adept at finding and disposing of enemy spies. Moreover, if I were found here, the Oda warlords might suspect you of betraying them, and turn against you. They might not understand that you are—that we are—that we're just friends with a common background. I don't want to compromise your safety. …Or fail in my duty to my employer, or course."

"I understand," I told him—or at least that's what I tried to say. It came out a little garbled. Plus, I may have been slightly put out by the bit about "just friends." Even though it was true. And just fine. I mean, how well do we even know each other, right? I caught a glimpse of mocking yellow eyes and a hint of white hair, but no audio.

I felt warm breath against the top of my hair—it was very pleasant—and then something that might have been a very soft, feather-light kiss. My brain said it was accidental contact; my heart started to pick up speed. Unfortunately, Sasuke's voice didn't give away what he was thinking.

"I wouldn't have been so late, if it hadn't been for the—er, you know."

I tried to shake my head, but couldn't move. "No idea. The what?"

"...It doesn't matter. The point is that as soon as I heard you were sick, I requested vacation leave and came immediately. Hopefully, Lord Kenshin is being delayed by Yukimura and Lord Shingen. Lord Kenshin doesn't quite understand the concept of a vacation yet, although I'm working on him."

"You came all the way to Azuchi because you heard I was sick?" I was impressed with their spy system, but more interested in the personal aspects.

"…Yes. You see, I have a package of ibuprofen with me. It's four years old, but the seal's unbroken and I suspect it's fine. That's why I apologized. If I'd gotten here sooner, you might not have needed to take opiate-based medication. Or at least I could have warned you."

"That's okay," I said, generously. "I mean, come on, Sasuke, you just came all the way to Azuchi and snuck into an enemy castle to bring me Advil. That's pretty heroic in my book, even if you didn't get here as fast as you wanted. I'm sure the poppy-juice will wear off soon enough, so no harm done." Except for my wardrobe malfunction, and the way I kind of not-so-accidentally fell over against you. And having Mitsuhide in my head. The idea that my inner demons—or whatever—now manifested as Mitsuhide was a little disturbing. Then again, it would explain his tendency to read my mind.

Sasuke was silent. He seemed to be taking the whole 'Chieko on opium' thing a bit too hard. I decided to play my trump card, even though it might open up a can of worms. …Okay, that wasn't a sentence I ever wanted to share with anyone, especially Sasuke, but I knew what I meant and ignored the snicker from ol' yellow eyes. I turned a bit so that I wouldn't be speaking into my—that is the—ninja's tunic.

"I know you're worried about me, and I really appreciate it, but you should know that Ieyasu created and compounded both medicines—the happy candies and the syrup—and he's considered one of the best pharmacists around."

Sure enough, Sasuke shifted in surprise, dislodging me slightly as he straightened his back and scanned the room as though his idol, Tokugawa Ieyasu, might be hiding behind my kimono rack. I expected him to use the opportunity to pry me loose and get me tucked into bed, but instead he pulled me back against his chest as soon as he noticed that I'd slipped. Naturally, I immediately wondered if I could read something into that. And did I want to? The strange drowsy-giddy feeling was wearing off, and I was starting to feel self-conscious.

"You know that I have the greatest respect for Lord Ieyasu," Sasuke said quietly. This was an understatement, but I was distracted by the fact that his voice wasn't far from my ear, and for some reason that thought was making me warmer than ever; I could feel my blush reaching my ears. Sasuke seemed oblivious. "However, I would feel very badly if you came to harm here, and the opiate medicines of this time are not safe. In fact, they remained largely unsafe right up to modern times, and even in our era they are highly addictive."

I was touched by the genuine concern in his voice, but also becoming increasingly aware that my upper body was practically glued against his, and I was only wearing a thin summer robe as nightwear. Sneezing on him would probably break the mood—if there was a mood—but other than a slight headache, I seemed to have improved quite a bit over the last half-hour. I wasn't sure whether to chalk it up to Ieyasu's medicine, or to the power of Sasuke's kindness. He was always kind, in an awkward, Sengoku-physics-ninja-geek sort of way.

"So, I guess I should take the good stuff, and let you get on your way." I sighed. Then I realized that I was sighing, and sat up a little straighter. Sasuke's arms immediately fell away, and when I glanced up at him, his face was as blank as usual. I thought there was a touch of red in his cheeks, but he immediately got busy fetching me more water and then handing over the pills.

"You can keep the package. We're going back in just a few weeks, and there aren't that many in there anyway." His tone was calm and uninflected, but something made me decide not to argue. After all, he'd refused to use even one throughout the four years he'd been here, and he must have gone through his share of pain and, presumably, illness.

Having dutifully taken the ibuprofen, I handed the water mug back to Sasuke. I tried not to show how lonely I suddenly felt, as he made sure that his gear was secure and cracked open the window screen to survey his exit path.

"So—why were you so late? You never did explain. I mean, now that I'm more with it, I can tell that you pushed it pretty close to the limit." It was true—the first rays of sunlight could be seen over the horizon, and Sasuke usually arrived and left when it was fully dark.

"Oh… that. I'll explain another time, okay? Stay safe, Chieko. I'll come visit next time I'm near Azuchi."

"Sure. Sounds good. And thank you! You're the best friend a time-travelling fashion designer could have." I smiled brightly at him, wanting him to go before he got caught, but also wishing he could stay.

"You're most welcome," Sasuke replied, swinging himself lightly to the very narrow window sill. Then he paused, muttered something inaudible, and hopped back down beside me. "One moment—your hair has caught on something." Very gently, he pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. As far as I could tell, it hadn't been caught on anything, but I wasn't going to object. His fingers lingered on my ear for a few extra seconds—deliberately, I thought—and then he murmured a quick goodbye and was out through the window before I could respond.

I remained sitting up in bed sipping water for several minutes before my racing pulse calmed down enough to contemplate sleep. Just as I was making myself comfortable, somebody announced themselves at the door, and entered without waiting for my leave.

"Ohayo, Chieko," Mitsuhide said brightly, surveying the room with a slightly mischievous air. His gaze lingered on the open screen, which I probably should have thought to close. "I'm surprised you have that open, given how unwell you've been. How are you?"

"Good morning to you too, Mitsuhide. I'm feeling a lot better this morning, thank you. Another day should see me completely recovered."

Nobunaga's left-hand man smiled at me. It was the smile of a man who knew just how to make it hurt, whether in fun or in deadly earnest. I tensed, waiting for the blow to fall. Mitsuhide didn't disappoint.

"I will let the others know that you've had a restful night." His yellow eyes shone a little in the dim room, as he gently added: "The power of young love never ceases to amaze, does it?"

[END]

(1) Excuse me. (A common way to let people know you’d like to enter or are entering a room.)

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#ikesen #ikesen fanfiction #sasuke sarutobi #akechi mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku

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