#(…and i’d wanna see if there are any changes to the text from the chapter releases… man…)

[deus-ex-mona]

ngl im still thinking about how hw love nghy so much that they released a limited merch set just of them

[lightdancingwords]

Come Find Me - Part Four

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 2,367

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, mentions domestic violence, intimate partner violence, anxiety

Song Inspiration: Snow On The Beach by Taylor Swift.

A/N: The italics are to denote texting between cellphone users in this particular chapter.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Four: Meet Me At Midnight

You couldn’t sleep. It’d been about a week since the festival. Work had been going well. You’d exchange pleasantries with Beau when you bumped into him in the parking lot and it’d been going well. Doris visited every day for lunch, sharing tidbits of her life. It was going well.

So why the hell couldn’t you sleep?

You lay on your bed, thoroughly annoyed at your seeming inability to sleep. You stared up at the ceiling in the dark, and debated literally counting until you fell asleep. Then wondered if making tea would be worth it.

You reached for your cellphone, sighed, and decided, what the hell? You pulled up Beau’s contact and decided to text him.

Hey… you up?

Much to your surprise, his response was almost instant.

Hey darlin’. Can’t sleep either?

You sigh to yourself. Then you began typing on the virtual keyboard. No. Not even sure why. Must be one of those nights.

It sure is, he responded. Wanna come over and watch the stars?

Your heart skipped a beat. Such an enticing offer. You bit your lower lip, then made a decision. Yes. I’d love to.

A moment later and he sent you the GPS coordinates for his trailer with a note: Google maps will lie to you. That’s where I am. I’ll be waitin’.

You threw off the bed covers and got up. You quickly changed, brushed your hair back and decided to skip the makeup. A late night trip should make allowances for casual, dang it. Then you grabbed your car keys.

With the help of the coordinates, you drove out past the city limits of Big Sky and into the country. It took some careful navigating, but eventually you found Beau’s trailer. It truly was small, at least from the outside. Maybe the interior was cozy and comfortable. Beau had several wooden chairs, thick blankets draped over them, and a campfire burning in the center.

As you got out of the car, your breath misting in the cold air, you looked for Beau. He was definitely preparing for your arrival, but you had no idea where he could be.

“Beau?”

The trailer door opened and Beau stepped out, two beer bottles in hand. “Oh hey, darlin’,” he said with a smile. “Right on time. You drink?”

“I do tonight,” you said with a smile, taking one of the bottles. “God, you weren’t kidding when you said you were out in the country.”

“Nope,” he said with a wide smile. “But the view is worth it.”

You glanced behind you, and took in the magnificent view. Stars glittered across the velvet night sky, with rolling hills dotting the horizon. You couldn’t see any other source of light beyond the campfire the Beau made. It was gorgeous, still, and quiet.

“It is beautiful,” you breathe, not daring to speak loudly and shatter the magic.

“Yeah, it is,” he said, glancing at you briefly. “Come on, take a seat, darlin’. Got some blankets in case ya get cold.”

You didn’t object to the offer of the blanket. You curl up in one of the chairs, a cozy large wooden chair that you could actually sit cross-legged if you wanted. The blanket was thick, plush, and smelled of him.

“To late night adventures,” you said, holding out your bottle of beer.

He chuckled. “I’ll drink to that,” he said, and lightly clinked his bottle against yours.

For a time, it was peaceful, quiet. It was companionable, with no urge or drive to fill the silence. You tilted your head back to watch the stars, soft glittering diamonds that were rarely ever seen inside the city. There was something about that moment that felt… healing.

It dawned on you what it was that was keeping you up at night. You’d lived with Mark for years, shared his bed and home. This was the first time you’d lived on your own in… forever. You were wrestling with the idea of being alone, despite the freedom to do whatever you wanted. It felt weird sleeping in a bed all by yourself.

Now, here with Beau, you had company. You weren’t alone anymore.

“I’m glad I came,” you murmured at last. “I needed this.”

“Yeah?” Beau glanced at you. “I’m glad you came too, darlin’. It’s nice having company.”

She took a sip of the beer, slanting a look at Beau. “I guess we’re lucky that it’s the weekend. I can sleep in if I need to.”

He quirked a smile. “There is that.”

“It’s so nice out here… do you ever fall asleep out here?” she asked, her voice wistful.

“Yeah,” he said, the moment demanding a low, soft response. “I have, actually. It’s nice to bundle up in blankets and have a warm fire.”

“I could sleep right here,” you said dreamily. You leaned against the arm of the chair, resting your cheek on your arm. “It’s so cozy.”

“You can sleep here, Y/N,” he offered, his expression soft. “I ain’t gonna say ‘no’ to that.”

“I don’t…” You hesitate. You knew that you would be too tired to drive back home, but you didn’t want to impose. You still had an issue about taking space, even when kindly offered.

“Y/N… you’re welcome to stay,” Beau said, gently tugging the blanket tighter over you. “I’d be a bad person and a god damned awful sheriff if I let you drive this tired.”

You relaxed, a slight smile tugging at your lips. “You swore,” you teased, feeling your eyes droop.

“Don’t tell Em.” He grinned at you, his green eyes dancing.

“I promise,” you murmured. “I’m going to fall asleep now.”

Beau lightly took the bottle of beer from your hand before you could dropped it in your sleep, and whispered, “Sleep well, darlin’.”

—

The beginning of the rising sun made you squint, twitch and realize it was far too bright to be the light in your room. Memory came back to you. You had stayed at Beau’s place, given it was too late in the night to drive back. The soft, plush blanket brushed against your cheeks and the scent of earth and musk and god, Beau, made you smile as you opened your eyes.

You actually slept outside. You never went camping, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was a nice experience. You took a deep breath, breathed in the clean Montana air. You didn’t want to move, to leave. This was something you could get used to.

But it wasn’t yours.

That evil, awful thought just simply had to barge in. You frowned, shoved that thought away just as you heard the trailer door open. You glanced over, saw Beau emerge with two steaming mugs. A quick whiff told you it was coffee.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, holding out a mug for you. “Good mornin’.”

“Good morning to you too,” you said with an answering smile. You wrap your hands around the mug, warming them. “Did I really sleep out here all night?”

“Yep.” He glanced at you and grinned. “You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

“You do.” He chuckled, shook his head. “Okay, I was lyin’.”

“Pfft.” You laughed, took a quick sip of the coffee. It was sweet and creamy, with just a hint of a kick. “Mm. This is good.”

“I’ll admit… I cheat. Got myself one of those Keurig things.” He shrugged, grinned. “I made breakfast. You hungry?”

“Oh, Beau, you don’t have to—”

“Darlin’, I wanted to,” he said, cutting you off with an exasperated look. “I swear, at this point, you’re gonna make me want to spank you, and it ain’t gonna be the fun kind.”

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat. He definitely wasn’t going to let that go. “Yes, sir!”

He shook his head with a laugh. “Wanna eat out here or go inside?”

You took a deep breath, studying the morning sun illuminating the Montana horizon. “Out here,” you breathed, a smile curving your lips. “God, Beau, no wonder you bought this place. It’s gorgeous. Morning or night, it’s breathtaking.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said in quiet agreement, slanting a look at you. “I’ll grab you a plate.”

You nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. The night had such an odd turn, but it made such a warm memory for you. Though staying the night at Beau Arlen’s place definitely wasn’t on your list of things to ever happen…. That it did made you smile. Doris might implode if she learned of it. The thought made you grin.

“Here you go, darlin’,” Beau said, coming back out with two plate of over-easy eggs, home fries, and sausage links. He held out one to you with a fork and butter knife held by his thumb.

“You made this?” You took the plate and utensils with a trace of wariness, remembering Emily’s statement about how Beau was an awful cook.

“I’ll have you know I’m a very capable man,” he said with an amused look at your expression, taking the chair next to you. “Dig in, darlin’.”

You resigned yourself to bad tasting breakfast and set the coffee mug down on the ground next to you. With a prayer to the god of taste buds, you took a taste of the home fries. Your brows lifted as a burst of flavor exploded in your mouth. “Oh my God,” you mumbled between chewing.

Beau grinned. “See? I told ya I’m a capable man.”

“Emily told me you were a bad cook,” you said, deciding to tell him why you were wary. “I’m beginning to suspect she lied so I’d be pleasantly surprised.”

He laughed, shook his head. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

You grinned ruefully. “Yes. God, Beau, this is really good.”

“Well, don’t sound so damned surprise,” he said, his Texas drawl rich with amusement.

You smiled sheepishly. “Right. Um.” You had no idea what you could say, so you just shoved another forkful of the home fries into your mouth and savored the taste. It honestly was delicious and you were more than willing to show the cook how much you enjoyed it by finishing off the meal.

Beau smirked, green eyes sparkling. Trust Emily to throw shade on her father, the cheeky girl. He ate in comfortable silence, watching you from the corner of his eye as he did so. He saw the pleasure suffuse your very being, a flush highlighting your cheeks.

“That… was actually really delicious,” you said when you finished. Your plate was absolutely clean. It surprised you. You hadn’t had much of an appetite since you left Billings. Aside from a few plates of Doris’s delectable lasagna, your appetite had been minimal. Must be the Montana air… and maybe the company.

You couldn’t help it, the way your gaze slid over to Beau. You felt so damned safe with him, it was scary at times. Mark had absolutely diminished you in so many ways, you were just beginning realize the sheer depths of what been damaged, shoved away, all in order to preserve the whole.

It was time to heal, you realized.

“I’ll try not to feel offended given ya still sound surprised,” Beau said, lightly teasing you.

You smiled. “No, I… it really was good. I’m surprised because…” You hesitated. Would it be wise to tell him how she felt? “Because I felt safe.”

Beau turned a puzzled frown on you. “I’m not sure I getcha, darlin’.”

You took a deep breath. “Doris said you got the files from Billings.”

“Yeah,” he said, drawing out the word.

“So… you know.” You met Beau’s eyes with your own, dreading the response, but also needing to know.

Beau set the plate down on the ground and shifted the chair around to face you. “Yeah, I know, darlin’,” he said, his tone somber. “I didn’t want to talk to ya about it because I felt it was something you should bring up, not me.”

You felt the wetness shimmer in your eyes and blinked back the tears. “I hadn’t felt safe in years, Beau,” you said quietly. “I lived in fear of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing… even breathing wrong. I forgot what it was like to be me. Mark… he tried to destroy what I was, who I was. And then… he very nearly killed me. If Mrs. Stefanik hadn’t heard me screaming….”

“Darlin’,” Beau leaned forward and gathered your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “You got away. You survived. What you did? Testifyin’ in court, not once, but twice, standin’ up to him—God damned, girl, that takes a special kind of bravery.”

You felt a tear fall down your cheek, emotional by what Beau had said. “I didn’t feel brave. I barely slept in the weeks that happened. I was so anxious, terrified. I had to be on Xanax for a while. I flinched at every sound that creaked through that motel room. I still flinch. That’s why I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Darlin’…” Beau reached up and wiped away the tear with his thumb. “I’m honest-to-God glad you felt safe enough to sleep here last night. I’m glad you feel safe with me. I mean it.” His gaze searched your face, your eyes, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. “If you ever need to feel safe… you’re always welcome to come here. I mean it.”

“I couldn’t—”

Beau placed a finger on your lip, silencing you. “I’m sayin’, darlin’, do it. Impose. Cut into my life and cut into my routine. I mean it.”

You blink your eyes, felt a swell of emotion in your heart, the lump in your throat. You could only nod wordlessly.

“Good.” Beau smiled. “I expect to see you a lot around here.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah…” He brushed back a strand of your hair. “I do. Until you feel brave enough to be on your own, darlin’. However long that takes.”

“You’ll get well and truly sick of me before that,” you said with a shaky smile.

“Nah, darlin’. I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

[adhd-merlin]

Hey I heard you wanna yap so I'm here to talk Arthuriana books ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I've got a whole spreadsheet but I've only recently started reading 21st century ones, including Bliss & Blunder which is currently my highest ranked out of the bunch but I know it's gonna be usurped by the one I'm currently reading - The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman. If you can handle long books (almost 700 pages) then you have to read it, it's so well written and goes into the more neglected knights like Bedivere and Palomides (and as with all modern stuff some of the knights get to be gay as a treat). I'm still only 1/4 of the way through but if it stays as good as it's been so far then oh boy. Anyways let me know what your favourite 21st Arthuriana is!

Yaaay yapping time <3

Ooh I can’t believe you’ve got a spreadsheet, haha. I’m fascinated by you spreadsheet people! (I’m not a spreadsheet kind of person, I’m a “I’ll write a random note on my phone that I’ll soon forget about… unless I remember” kind of person).

thank you for the rec!! Imma be honest I don’t think I can handle long books right now, because I’m struggling with concentration, but it sounds interesting! I’ll add it to my wish list in case I feel inspired to read it in future (I use the app Bookshelf to keep track of books read/to read, though there’s not much to keep track of these days lol. I like it because it’s super basic; I don’t even think you need to create an account? Can’t remember. But I can’t be bothered with Goodreads anymore.)

Anyways let me know what your favourite 21st Arthuriana is!

Bliss & Blunder is the only modern one I’ve read actually! I haven’t read many Arthuriana books? I’ve read about Arthuriana texts/adaptations more than I’ve read any actual texts lol. I like hearing about all the lore! But I love thinking/reading about adaptations in general, I think the process itself is so interesting? Like, what elements of a story one chooses to focus on or to discard; what makes a character… well, themselves. If you put Lancelot in the 21st century, what would he be like? How much can you change a story and still recognise it as the same? I find it fascinating to think about!* And obviously Arthurian texts have been inspiring so many people over the centuries across different media, so there’s a lot to explore in that sense.

I would like to read some of the “source” texts at some point, though they are a bit daunting. I gave Le Morte d'Arthur a try and abandoned it quite soon, but I’d like to dip my toes in it again, read some select chapters perhaps. I’d also like to read The Knight of the Cart because Lancelot is such an interesting character.

In terms of modern adaptations (as in, written in modern times), I would like to check out The Once and Future King (the Ill Made Knight in particular, don’t think I could read all the books)—I’ve read contrasting opinions on T.H. White’s work but it’s had a great influence on subsequent adaptations (I think?) that I want to see what all the fuss is about. And I love the whole love triangle drama. An affair so messy we’re still talking about it centuries later? I’m so here for it.

I’ve read a couple of random quotes from Steinbeck’s The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights that made me go “oh I should check this out!”, so that it also on my radar. (Have you read it? If so, what did you think of it?)

*I was in the Sherlock fandom for a while and that’s one of the things I enjoyed about it—all the different adaptations that existed about the same source material. And I don’t even care about Conan Doyle’s stories that much (lol sorry Arthur) so it really was mainly about the adaptations for me. I was studying Russian at uni at the time, so I checked out the “classic” Soviet Sherlock Holmes series, and also the Russian TV adaptation that came out in 2013. I greatly enjoyed the latter because of the way it played with and subverted elements of the original canon—it was great fun! Maybe my favourite Sherlock Holmes adaptation. But Vitaly Solomin's Watson ("Soviet" Watson) has a special place in my heart, he was so cute. Did you know there's a genderbent Holmes & Watson Russian adaptation? And they get to crossdress to get into a gentleman's club. Fascinating. I also think Jonny Lee Miller was great in Elementary, though I’m not a big fan of the procedural format. I did abandon that show after series… three, I think? but I still think he made an interesting Sherlock Holmes. His acting was probably wasted on that series to be honest!)

[rebornofstars]

BEE!! UNO REVERSE!! before the rain stops?? wiggle eyebrows emoji

BEFORE THE RAIN STOPS! ahahahahg. this is the modern au road trip fic, except i didn't want to set it in the usa, so.... it is the australian modern au road trip fic. there's lore. there's shenanigans. they spend about two months on the road. it's absurd and i love it so much.

snippet for you from chapter 1!

“You’re mad,” Warriors said. He stood up. “What are you here for?” Twilight’s easy grin faltered. He worried his lip with his teeth. Time had been trying to break that habit for years. It was almost good to know he’d never succeeded. One less thing that had changed. One less milestone Warriors had missed. “Kid’s in the school band,” Twilight said. “He asked me if I’d get everyone to come to the concert.” “What?” Warriors scrubbed his face. “Wind? Fuck. He finally joined the band? He didn’t tell me, I didn’t know about any concert. When’s it on? It’s not tomorrow, is it? I’ve got a doctor’s appointment—” “Nah,” said Twilight. “End of September.” Warriors gripped the skin on his cheekbones tightly and stared. “September?” “Yeah,” Twilight said. He looked far too pleased with himself. “It’s July,” Warriors croaked. “Yeah,” said Twilight again. “Have you lost your mind?” “Nope. C’mon, you gotta pack, we’re losing the light.” “I hate you,” Warriors wheezed. “What are you on about? It doesn’t take two months to drive to Sydney. And if you just wanna freeload, I gotta break it to you, Lana’s not gonna like that—” “Kid asked me if I’d get everyone to come to the concert,” Twilight repeated. “You gotta pack. My girl’s waiting in the driveway. I left her running.” “Your g—are you talking about that fucking ute again? Go and turn the engine off, your battery’s gonna go flat.” “One and the same,” Twilight said, still infuriatingly calm. “Fixed her up all good. She runs better than the old man’s tractor now. I’ll go outside, you pack, alright?” “Pack for what,” Warriors asked. It was too late. Twilight had disappeared out into the cold night air, screen door bashing on the brick wall as he went.  “What is going on,” he said to the empty room. He began drafting a text. Hey L—no. Hey babe, my half-brother (remember time?) yeah, his cousin—too complicated. My cousin showed up— He put the phone down. No. How was he supposed to explain this when he barely understood what was happening himself? Twilight was a selfish, smug idiot. How could he just turn up out of the blue and expect Warriors to—to go somewhere with him? What was he thinking? They hadn’t seen each other for years. Warriors had skipped out on every Christmas barbeque since he’d moved away.  Kid asked me if I’d get everyone to come to the concert. “No,” he whispered. “No, what the—no. He can’t be—surely not.” Through the front blinds he could see the other man loitering about comfortably in the driveway. The ute was smaller than he remembered. A matte-brown, rickety thing. Twilight had bought it second-hand off a mate in high school for about a grand and spent the next few years replacing parts obsessively until it was almost a new vehicle. He’d been worried about the suspension when they spoke last. That and the fact that the oil cap was mysteriously leaky. He can’t seriously think— The screen door slammed again. Warriors’ legs propelled him down the driveway before he even had time to think. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Tell me this is not what I think it is.” Twilight grinned winningly. He held out a half-eaten apple. Where did he get an apple? Why— “Why are you like this?” Warriors begged. “No, put that away. I’m not touching that, you’ve had your mouth on it. Two months. And the others are all over the place. You want to make this a road trip. You want us to drive all the way around the fucking country to collect everyone for Wind’s concert.”

[m-ilkiee]

Oh wow…that shit’s so messed up I’m sorry- Seeing how fucking brutal these two are to her, it lowkey makes me wanna get back at them somehow cuz I’m petty lol. Like I know it’s wishful thinking cuz it’s Mikey and Izana we’re talking about, and they have a shit ton more power than reader, but plsplspls I want them to suffer MORE WKAJWHEBV. At first, I’d imagine reader with some other man, but they both can easily get rid of him and punish her and make her suffer even more, so I drop that idea pretty quickly. Just let my girl live in peace for fuck’s sake…

OOHH!! Imagine how they’ll react when she completely…snaps. Just gone. An empty shell of who she was. I’m talking about legit no emotions or feelings or any type of reactions when they hurt her. Nothing. Completely dull to all their messed up antics. I once read a short scenario similar to this (it’s a yandere type thing), and the darling is exactly like this, so I wonder how the brothers would handle that. Would they give up on her? Would they get rid of her entirely due to anger? Would they at least try to do something? It doesn’t matter what they do, scream at her, hit her, give her “love” or “affections” or gifts. It simply doesn’t matter. She would not react at all.

OR OR. I’m sorry but I’m getting excited at the mere thought of those two suffering LKJWDBN. Maybe she, somehow in someway, manages to get away from them both and move to somewhere else far, FAR away. And they can’t even find her, it’s like she completely disappears from the face of the earth. All of her info is deleted on the internet and her socials (if she has any), and they just can’t track her down AT ALL. If they treat her like she’s lower than the dirt under their shoes, why bother anymore right? Not like they truly love her like she deserves anyway, might as well leave them. I wanna be the one to help her get away cuz that girl deserves nothing but the best fr :((

OR OR OR- (IM SORRY I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS AND IM LITERALLY VIBRATING RN. This is SO much fun, I love this series SO much). Imagine if she gets into a terrible accident. Car accident, someone stabbed her, hit her head hard. IDK. Whatever it is, she got hurt BAD. Like hospital-emergency-surgery-ASAP bad. Would they even care tbh? I mean, it means she has a chance of finally leaving Emma alone right? Their family can finally go back to normal, and they don’t have to fight her for Emma’s attention anymore. They should feel relieved, happy even, that she can be gone forever…right? Would be even better if they have no idea at first, so they start wondering why they don’t see her in campus or why she isn’t with Emma at parties anymore or why she isn’t picking up her damn phone or texting them back after literal weeks. Meanwhile she’s still at the hospital, in a coma, barely hanging on for dear life. If she dies…they shouldn’t be bothered, right? Especially Izana. (Honestly, idk if I want them to be devastated or nonchalant about reader’s death. Like the fucking audacity to feel sad about her death when you’re the one who LITERALLY made her life hell. But then they’d be just straight up assholes/psychos if they don’t gaf.)

Due to these thoughts, I’m very excited to see chapter 10 whenever it’s out. I know it’s still very early on, and the description or plot may change, but the summary is making me SHAKING. LIKE WYM BROKE THE CYCLE??? IS MY GIRL FINALLY FREE??? WYM AT WHAT COST??? SHE SUFFERS ENOUGH LET HER BE FREEE- anyways :)) I FEEL LIKE IM ANNOYING YOU WITH THESE ASKS IDK. IF SO I APOLOGIZE AJEFJN- One last question, the series only has 10 chapters right?

OKAY IM DONE I PROMISE LMAO.

FIRST OF ALL YOU'RE NOT ANNOYING ME AT ALLL! I've your ask fifteen times and I kick my feet and giggle cause how do I have such creative READERS I LOVE YALL NGL.

I lwk want reader to just start messing around with other men too, but like she's not that kind of person at all unfortunately. Plus she's seen enough with men after her father, her brothers and then the Sanos.

There's definitely a point where reader snaps and goes off the grid that they can't find her BUT I DON'T WANNA GIVE SPOILERS. Long story short, the two brothers aren't thrilled with the situation.

I believe pre Chapter 3, they won't really care, but post chapter 3, whew boy... if something happened to reader, Mikey's definitely going to start tweaking. Godforbid reader dies, every hospital staff treating her and their families will see jesus before tuesday. If reader dies or leaves Mikey post chapter 3, Mikey's going off the rails mentally and physically. Izana might be affected for a long while, but he can still bounce back, just a tad bit more cruel and he may or may not start sleeping with women that look like reader...

CHAPTER 10 will be hands down my favourite to write. Idk what I'll do w/ my life when monsters is over tbh (finish my other wips ofc)

[rogerswifesblog]

Chapter 8 - it’s all about the…

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Previous

A/N: Hello!:) here’s the next chapter after the little cliffhanger! I hope you’ll like it, I’d appreciate it a lot if you’d leave a comment or reblog 🥰

Thank you @jamneuromain for helping me with the idea for the ending/bonus part <3

Warnings: alcohol consumption, puking, implied assault/ assault, not Sharon friendly! (Sorry)

Pairing: stripper Steve Rogers x sugar mommy reader

You tried to find Steve in the group of dancing people that were grinding on each other rather than actually dancing, but Steve was nowhere to be found. At this point you felt incredibly stressed.

Where the hell was he?

And then you walked into the garage.

And there he was.

Playing beer pong, stumbling over his own legs and bumping into the table while trying to throw the ball into one of the cups (missing completely.)

“Steve! I thought something happened?” hearing your voice, Steve's head shot in your direction, his face lighting up even though also looking incredibly confused. “Hi Mommy-Wait-why are you here? What are you doing here? You wanna watch me win this match?” Steve sounded even dunker than before as he stumbled to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

Slightly confused you pushed him away, enough to look him in the face. He seemed confused, but happy. Or just drunk, definitely drunk. “Steve, you texted me to pick you up-then you called, too”, you said as gently as possible, taking his hands. You could feel many gazes on you, making your throat tighten. All this attention was awful.

“I didn’t text you mommy”, he whined against your neck, making you shake your head lightly and pushing him once again away to look at him. “Steve, you called me,” “No I didn’t?” “Yes you did! Check your phone”

So Steve took out his phone, checking your chat, furrowing his eyebrows at his bright screen. “oh…I did.”

At first you thought he was joking about not remembering it, but seeing how he was swaying while standing and looking at his phone you knew he was wasted more than before. “Let’s go home baby, ill warm up some of the salmon-or maybe you wanna grab some fast food on our way home?”

You watched him stumble one step back, nearly falling but you grabbed him quickly by the arm and pulled him a bit closer. “But I’m winning in beer pong. You wanna watch me win this match?”

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at the table with the cups filled with beer. "Steve this is your sixth beer and the other side has only two empty cups. You’re not winning. Please let’s go. Now. Home.” Steve pouted at you, but when you took his hand he nodded slowly, seemingly unhappy about needing to end the match.

While walking out of the garage he waved back at his friends before looking back at you. “Wait-I gotta find Bucky-I need to tell them I’m going home-they’ll be worried-“, he slurred, ending his speech with a hiccup.

You could already feel his headache in the morning.

He’d have a massive hangover in the morning and you wouldn’t even feel sorry for him. He did this to himself.

Okay, you’d feel slightly sorry, but you wouldn’t show it.

“Give me your phone and open Buckys chat.” Without any protests he took out his phone, failing twice with his passcode so you helped him, not wanting to block his phone. While you texted Bucky Steve leaned more of his weight against you, smelling your hair. He was definitely your sweet weirdo. “Stevie, stop that I can’t concentrate-“ “but you smell so good…can’t help it”, he mumbled.

You threw one last glance at the message. > Hello Bucky, It’s me Y/N. I’m taking Steve home, he called me before and he’s definitely not in the state to stay any longer, nor to drink more. Here’s my number in case you’d need anything. If you or Sam need a ride home, I can arrange something.< After sending the message and your contact (tho you changed the name from mommy to your name) you put Steve’s phone in your pocket, not trusting him not to drop it.

“Whoah Steve don’t fall asleep on me-we need to get you out of here”, you gasped when you felt his weigh being heavier against your shoulder. He mumbled something before letting you guide him out of the house.

When you finally managed to get Steve in your car he slumped into the passenger seat and leaned his head against the window, burping quietly. “Steve, are you okay?”, you placed your hand gently onto his thigh, trying to make him look up at you.

“Jus’…home…”, he mumbled drunkenly, his head now falling against your shoulder, probably close to falling asleep. It was incredibly uncomfortable to hold the gear stick, but you managed somehow, even though you drove a bit slower than usually.

You could already see your house from far away when Steve suddenly sat up. “I think im gonna-“ before finishing his sentence he leaned over his legs and puked right onto your car mat. “Steve!”, you gasped, stopping your car at the side of the road and gently placing your hand on Steve’s neck. “Stevie-Are you okay?”

No answer came, instead you could hear him hiccup and sob a quiet apology. “It’s fine Steve, I’ll just…tell Clint to take the car to the cleaners' ', you tried to hear what he was saying, but all that came was random babbling that you couldn’t hear. You slowly drove further in the direction to your place, this time with your window open-which Steve noticed.

“M sorry, I’m so sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t wanna get so drunk I’m sorry”, he hiccuped, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

"I'm no longer pretty. I threw up. You won't let me be your sugar baby anymore because I smell like crap and I just threw up in your car", Steve started to sob, making you swallow. What were you supposed to do right now? Stop the car and comfort him or take him home? You decided on the second option. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about that, you’ll always be my pretty baby. You’re just a bit smelly now-“, even though you wanted to joke it seemed to be the wrong thing to do, since Steve started to sob again.

“I’m smelly??” Steve's hurt voice made your heart throb. “No baby-it’s just-because you puked? It’s not-don’t worry-the cat will be cleaned tomorrow, don’t worry. And we can go take a shower when we’re home-and see, we’re already here”, you said, driving into the garage and immediately stepping out to help Steve out of the car.

It was painful to watch him sob and cry, but at the same time slightly amusing knowing it was just because of the alcohol he had consumed. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”, Steve nodded at your words, still sniffing quietly while letting you guide him to your shared bedroom . „Sweetheart, now let’s get you in the shower but be careful, don’t slip. I’ll go make you something to eat-or better, I’ll order something. You need something greasy…at least that helped me whenever I drank. Maybe it’ll do something good for you too”, with that you left Steve in the bathroom, walking to the kitchen and ordering some burgers and fries.

You could eat something yourself.

After ordering you went back to the bathroom, glimpsing inside to check on Steve-who was still standing in the middle of the bathroom, his eyes closed and swaying on his feet.

Sighing you stepped into the bathroom, gently placing your hand against Steve’s arm. “Babyboy, let’s get you cleaned up”, while you unbuttoned his shirt he leaned his head against your shoulder. “Okay baby, don’t sleep now, okay? We need to get you clean, get some food and water in you…”, you slid his shirt from his shoulders, when your gaze fell onto the side of his neck that you haven’t seen before.

Anger rose up in your chest, but you kept your calm.

“Stevie-is that-Is that a hickey?”, you asked him quietly, a loud sob escaping Steve’s sob as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. “I didn’t want it-I was just dancing and she came all over me-I wanted to push her away-“

It was hard to understand what he was trying to say from the sobbs that interrupted his words, but from what he was saying you assumed a girl didn’t accept his no, which made you furious.

Not at him of course.

At that bitch.

“Did she do anything else? Did she touch you, sweetheart?” You voice was quiet and soothing for him, he felt much calmer now that he was here with you. “N-no, Bucky noticed it and grabbed her. I went to the bathroom then…I think that’s when I called you.” He sniffed quietly, holding onto you for dear life.

Hearing that Bucky was there to help Steve out of such a bad situation-especially since Steve had been drinking a lot, made you want to send him flowers. No, fuck flowers, you’d pay their rent for the rest of the year. A car would probably be too much to give.

Who was it sweetheart? Tell mommy who hurt you”, you whispered in his hair, gently lifting his face to look at you. You wiped away some stray tears from his cheeks, giving him a gentle kiss on the nose.

“She’s in one of my art history classes. I think her name is Sharon Carter”, he said, burying his face once again against your shoulder.

You gave him another kiss against his forehead, „don’t worry about her, she won’t bother you again“, you whispered against his temple, slowly and carefully helping him out of his clothes, your own outfit fell to thre floor too and you stepped with Steve under the warm water stream, washing off the sweat and filth from the party, whispering soothing words during all this time.

You scrubbed his skin with the same peeling you used on yourself, massaging his tense shoulders. It broke your heart to see him in such a bad state. He should be laughing and happy after a party, not sulking and apologising every few minutes for something he had no affect on,

Just when you stepped out of the shower you heared your phone ring. The delivery arrived.

“Go to bed sweetheart, we’ll eat in bed tonight, ‘kay?”, you kissed his temple, leading him to your bed. When he laid down you quickly threw a hoodie of his on and walked to the door to pick up the food. To your pleased surprise you even got a soda to the delivery, apparently for having an order above some prize that counted in the soda. Good marketing.

Chuckling you payed, leaving a generous tip before closing the door after the delivery guy left.

“I hope you’re still awake?”, you entered the bedroom, seeing Steve typing something on his phone. When you entered the room the corners of his lips twitched upwards. “m awake. Don’t wanna sleep without you”, he mumbled, pulling the blanket for you back so you could lay down with him.

Yet he seemed not happy when you sat down in the hoodie, his hands immediately pushing the material up, before you could even place the food in your lap, “wait sweetie, first I have to put down the food-“ “not in your lap, that’s where my head has to be-“ “oh, it has to be there, huh?”, you chuckled at his words, putting the containers down next to you instead of in your lap.

He laid down so he could look up at you, still pouting at your hoodie, instead of saying anything he lifted the material and cuddled his face against your stomach making you laugh in amusement. “Fine, I’ll take it off”, you did just that, receiving a big smile from him.

If that’s all it took to make him smile you could probably walk around naked all the time. It was good to see him slowly cheer up again.

“Now you have to eat in this position, how do you plan on doing it?”, once again you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when Steve only turned his head and opened his mouth, like a little bird that waited to be fed. “Stevie-okay, fine. I’ll feed you”, you chuckled under your breath, feeding him some fries.

Seeing his dilated pupils, the dreamy smile as he looked up at you made you grin. It was very sweet.

In moments like this you remembered once again that love existed. And that you were in love with this blonde dork, that was way too young for you. And yet you fell head over heels for him, probably way sooner than you even realised it before.

While you fed Steve some fries you ate your burger and from time to time some fries too. “I’m sorry for today…didn’t mean to drink so much and call you…and what happened at the party-“ “Stevie, Sweetheart it wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry, okay? You did the right thing calling me. I’ll always pick you when you need something-and I’ll always come to get you, babyboy”, you said truthfully.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around your mid section and kissing your waist. “What did I do to deserve you?”, he sighed sounding sad once again. “Sweetheart, you’re the best man I’ve ever met. You may be younger and we may have different lifes…and it’s just all so unreal how different our living situations are but I’m glad I met you and I couldn’t be happier.”

Just saying these things made your heart face, your own chest feeling tight. It didn’t happen often that you two talked much about feelings.

When you looked down at him once again his eyes were filled with tears, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

It made your chest tighten, like the feeling of nervousness before the first date with your very first crush. It was…you couldn’t explain it. You hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. It’s like Steve made you feel all the things that you haven't felt since you were a teenager. Or a virgin. Or both, more like it.

Steve made you nervous. No man had ever made you nervous.

And yet here you were. Your palms sweaty, heartbeat racing, breath hitching.

You kissed his forehead before placing the food container on the nightstand. Cleaning up would have to wait for tomorrow, “lay down comfortably sweetheart.” After turning off the light and waiting for Steve to change his position you laid down too.

Steve immediately wrapped his arms around you, his head against your breasts. “I’m sorry for today, I don’t wanna be bad sugar baby. I wanna be good for you”, he mumbled against your chest, making you sigh into his slightly damp hair. It seemed like he couldn’t accept the fact that you weren’t mad at him-and that he didn’t need to apologise for anything that had happened tonight.

“Babyboy, I’m happy you called-“ “Please don’t leave me, Kay? I wanna be here forever. Promise me?” You had to held back a chuckle at Steve’s rambling. “I promise Stevie.” “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m sure I’m promising it.”

“But…I don’t believe it.”

You looked down at him, furrowing your eyebrows at him. The dim light from the moon made it possible to see some of his silhouette and only a bit from his expression. Just when you wanted to say something he opened his mouth again. “I want it in writing. That you promise me to keep and love me forever…and if not then I want a one-month-notice before evicting me.”

His tone seemed completely serious, but you weren’t sure if he really meant it. A one month notice? Before breaking up? Was he really talking about- ? On the other hand he was also drunk. It might be the drunk-talking, so I’d probably be better to just give in. “Fine Stevie-baby, I’ll let you know, even though I’m definitely not planning on leaving you.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I wanna have it written…like the contract…I want you to add a line about not leaving me without a one-month-notice”, with that he loosened his grip around your waist and gently pushed you to the edge of the bed. “Wait-you mean-like now? Stevie it’s in the middle of the night-“ “but I don’t believe you…you won’t do it tomorrow…you’ll just forget about it…”

And that’s how you found yourself with a notebook in your lap and a pen in your hand, writing down completely ridiculous ‘rules’. “Okay, for how long do you wanna stay with me?” For a moment Steve was quiet before leaning his head against your body. “For….foreeever”, he whined, looking up at you, smiling tiredly. “Your lawyer has to sign it. I’ll sign it too…give me the pen”, he mumbled drunkingly and grabbed the pen, writing down his name messy.

A smile crept on his lips while he put down the pen again, turning onto his other side. “Cuddle me”, you only chuckled at his demanding tone before putting away the block and wrapping your arms around your little spoon.

“I love you Stevie”, you whispered long after knowing he fell asleep.

________

[ little bonus ]

The next morning you were awoken by an unpleasant groan when steve turned onto his back, furrowing his eyebrows but not opening his eyes yet. “My head…”, he mumbled, making you chuckle, while you slowly turned onto your side to look at Steve. “Yeah I’m not surprised Steve. Considering what you made me write”, you laughed quietly, leaning down to give Steve a kiss on the cheek.

He looked at you in confusion. “What do you mean?”

"You held me and asked whether I could give you a one-month-notice before I decide to evict you.” Right when you were saying this he turned a dark shade of red, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Head shaking he looked back at you.

"I did what???" "Yeahhh, and also you told me no matter how much the n+1 package is, you will never forgive me for dumping you…so….it was very interesting.” Steve only hid his face into the crook of your neck and you sighed.

“I’ll make you breakfast in bed”, he said before sitting up.

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[hours2hours]

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Hold on, I’m going to get help.”

My arms hang loosely over the windowsill. A breeze blows through the plants but the sun is so warm the chill isn’t bothersome. No, what bothers me is the voice that comes after that line, the words that Mateo’s killer mumbles over and over. The mystery of it all could drive me mad. Could it be a clue, or just deranged ramblings? When dad showed the police I thought something would come of it. Days have passed since then and nothing. Maybe Annie and Joel are right about the cops out here, maybe they really don’t care.

The only way I could think of another lead is through Mateo himself, and the way he was acting before he disappeared. But recollecting those mundane days now feel like a red-hot stick of iron. Remembering feels like a memorial, like admitting he’s dead and gone forever, but I still have to try.

Mateo was away at a friend’s place for two days straight, but I knew it was a lie. Mateo never had friends in Matlock Beach, and almost as few back home. It wasn’t something I thought about much, just didn’t click with others like with family. He always seemed one step out of reality, took any chance to escape with his drawings and stories. When others went out to party he’d escape to the woods with nothing but his spirituality and a sketchbook. I think it scared a lot of people off, but he never seemed to mind. We had each other. He’d make me come outside and I’d be his connection to others. We were messed up but covered each others weaknesses, we were company and inspiration, brothers. 

The other sign was his state when he finally stumbled home one morning, one week before he disappeared. His hair and face were caked with dirt and grime, cargo pants torn at the knees, shirt ripped from the collar. He sat at the dinner table, I awaited an explanation, but he only stared through the window. I tried to tell him that Dad and I were worried, but he didn’t even seem to hear me. Mateo whipped out his sketchbook and scribbled with black pastels, mumbling some half-hearted excuse and a made up friend’s name. 

I didn’t want to push force an answer, because if something was wrong he would tell me. Mateo told me everything, first kisses, nightmares, dreams, to depressive thoughts he still had.

Or maybe I just needed an excuse not to ask.

“What're you drawing?” I eventually asked. “New cave-dwelling monster?” He stared laser-focused at the page and didn’t answer, not so subtly shifting his arm to block the image. 

As time went on and I assured our father he was alive, Mateo eventually pulled out a pencil and began writing. Sometimes he would scribble little notes or stories when the idea struck. But he just kept going, on and on and on. When I stood to ready myself for school, he’d almost filled the page with writing.

Five quick knocks pop my focus like a bubble. I sigh quietly and wipe my eyes, exiting my room for the first time today.

After carefully fixing my hair, I prepare myself to wave away the missionary or salesperson. Instead, I’m face to face with Joel, who carries a cup of coffee and a forced smile. It’s hard to say if it’s the slight tilt to his right, the fading bruises, or slight redness to the eyes that tips me off. But something’s wrong, something new.

“Brought you a coffee,” he holds out a grey cup from the Cafe, “Double-double right?”

I take the cup and thank him, surprised he remembers how I like it.

“Sorry I didn’t text first just…” He trails off. “Just wanted to see if you felt like hangin’ today.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “That sounds great, you wanna come in?”

“Actually, I was hopin’ to get you out of that room. It’s been a few days.”

A deep sinking feeling fills my stomach, the same one that plagued me back when Mom died. “Old habits are a bitch. Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

After a quick change out of sweatpants and two full minutes managing my mess of hair, I decide the wind will mess it up anyway. I double, then triple check the locks, biding my time before I have to leave to the outside world.

But then I see Joel waiting for me, a genuine smile through all that stifled pain, and suddenly it’s easy. “I’ve got a place I bet even you haven’t found.”

“That’d be impressive,” Joel answers. 

We make our way out of town, walking along the ditch into sunflower fields. We’re out of town limits now, out the West side this time. This area has few crop fields surrounded by dense woods abuzz with insect life. Even at the side of the road the bugs are everywhere; the honeybees working hard accompanied by butterflies, grasshoppers, crickets and spiders. Joel distances himself from the wall of flowers, walks in the very middle of the road. The instinct against things that buzz is understandable. I myself couldn’t stand the things for most of my life until I stopped to observe. “Hey, check this out,” I allow a centipede to crawl between my fingers, tickling me with its tiny legs.

He takes a moment to focus, then steps back. “Get that demon away from me.”

“It won’t bite, c’mon.”

“I heard those things spray cyanide.” He shivers.

“Maybe if you give the little guy a chance, he’ll spare you.” Just as I’m about to put it back, Joel takes a hesitant step towards me. “Happy?”

“Very,” I smile. Joel snickers.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re so damn weird, man.” He smiles and walks closer to me again. 

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Good, ‘cause it is.”

We’re approaching the point where the fields end and forest begins, so I hang a right down a dirt path between flowers and woods.

“Still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Joel kicks a rock into the trees.

“It’s something I’ve been meaning to show you. Trust me you’ll like it.” At least I hope he does. “Mateo and I found this spot after we moved here, before I met you guys.” Joel doesn’t say anything. Soon the sun hides beneath the canopy of trees, sunlight only penetrating the gaps. Joel catches me lingering though, and stops as I gaze through the spaces in the trees. “What’re you lookin’ at bud?” 

“Nothing,” I reply instantly. 

“Been staring at nothin’ a lot lately. You sure?”

“Well are you seeing anything? Cause the ‘quiet kid’ finally snapping seems more reasonable.” 

“No, but…”

“But what?”

Joel bites his lip. “Everytime you’re seeing things, I’ve been hearin’ odd noises. A creaking that gives me chills.”

“It’s not just the trees?”

“That’s the thing. I’ve heard creaky old trees all my life, but they sound nothin’ like this. I dunno. At least you’re not the only one losing it.”

A long pause, and I think I hear what he’s talking about. A squeaky tree? Maybe. But when wind flows through, the sound comes after like an echo. We continue.

Joel stands close to avoid scratching himself on the branches, so much so our bodies are nearly touching. An arm grazes here and our hands skim each other’s unexpectedly. “Hope you’re not taking those mumblings to heart. They’re all brainless, and in a few weeks we won’t have to see ‘em ever again.”

“I’ll try not to take it to heart.”

“‘Cause anyone who gets to know ya knows how kind, and creative, and funny you really are. It’s their loss.” 

Thank’s Joel,” I reply. 

If something’s wrong, would Joel tell me? In the year I’ve known him he's never come to me about serious matters, for a while I figured it was the casual relationship we had. But now we’re investigating a killer with connections to both of us, we were nearly busted for drugs, broke into a restaurant, and it still feels like he’s keeping things from me. Then again, I didn’t exactly ask. Maybe if I hadn’t been so afraid to check up on my brother he’d have told me, then I could have done something to prevent this mess.

“So… shit’s been crazy huh?” I blurt. Normally I’d plan a conversation like this, and this is why. “How have you been holding up?” “Ehh,” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“I hope you know you can talk to me about stuff, if you want I mean. I’m not the best at advice, but I’m a pretty good listener. I’m really glad I met you, otherwise I’d really have no one right now. And if we’re gonna be friends, I want us to talk about the real stuff, I wanna help if I can.”

“The same goes for you.” Joel snickers and looks me in the face. “You’re a good friend, too good for a guy like me.”

“Wrong,” I chuckle.

He pauses, gust of wind blowing shaggy brown hair into his face. “Alright, caught me. Parents kicked me out, took my phone, it’s why I didn’t text first.”

“What happened?

“They got a few emails, ‘bout how I’m failing classes, among other stuff. It’s nothin’ I don’t already have coming.”

“So they just kick you out for the day when they’re mad?” I ask.

“Yeah, you know. The ol’ ‘Go spend the day outdoors because we can’t stand to look at ya’ Schtick. It’s the only way Mom can deal with me nowadays.” My hands fumble around the sides of my pants, feeling for the lone cigarette I had left in them, but no dice on the lighter. Luckily Joel hands me one, then takes it back to light a joint.

Joel sighs, stepping over the emerging roots of an oak tree. “I’m just a screw up. Everyone knows it.”

“Well, you’re there when I need you, and Annie, and Otto.” I take another drag and look away into the trees. “I’d have no one if I didn’t have you right now. I might have lost my mind a lot sooner if you didn’t have my back. So don’t say you’re a screw up, okay?”

“You’d have Annie at least.”

“I only met her because you thought I needed more friends. That was an awesome thing for you to do.”

“I guess.”

“And I like hanging out with you. You’re the only one in the world who I can ramble to about neutron stars or black holes over the phone at two am.”

“Even though I fell asleep last time.”

“You stayed awake for me even when you were gonna pass out. That’s what a good friend does.”

My eyes find his, and they’re just as red as before. He smiles sadly and moves just a little closer to me. After a moment of silence, he whispers, “thanks”.

We arrive at a dead tree on the right side of the path. It’s branches stick out like daggers, bringing me back to the day we found it. It was summer of last year, about a month after moving to Matlock. Mateo and I had been trying to get away from the house because Dad was throwing a fit. He had caught me smoking and flipped out, saying some hurtful things in the name of helping me. Mateo told him off, but I’d already locked myself away for the remainder of the night. Unlike Joel’s family, our parents always sent us to our rooms when they couldn’t deal with us. Until Mateo appeared, tapping on the glass of my bedroom window. We snuck out to kill some time in the great outdoors. He was quite the nature lover, so he took me to the woods where we explored for a few hours. When we found the tree I couldn’t shake its significance. The dead oak felt like an arrow pointing to something no one has found before, and to pur mutual shock, it was.

Joel and I push through sticks and leaves that scratch our faces. Since we’ve gone off-path, we need to walk single-file. It’s a short walk before we arrive, but I still think about bringing up what happened at school the other day. We talked a little with Annie while she dodged detention, but it didn’t really do anything for our investigation. If anything it would point more evidence to Wendy, which doesn’t really help us right now. All we know is that whoever messed up Joel’s car was thinking ahead, which is more than Joel thinks Wendy is capable of. Until we get any other leads it looks like we hit a dead end, and bringing that up now doesn’t seem helpful.

So I make sure to emerge first so I can see Joel’s face as he sees it for the first time. I find it difficult to rely on people’s words to know if they appreciate something the way I do, so many people act polite. But it’s all there in the way Joel’s face lights up in awe. Right in front of us is a deep lake with large and small rocks across the shore, but the rest of the clearing is tall grass flattened by months of private hangouts and smoke sessions away from home. The area is about twenty feet in diameter, and everything about it is perfect. It’s the spot where Mateo and I would come to drink coffee and talk about what was bothering him that day, it’s where I would come to have alone time on the bad days. It’s where I spend my time when I need to draw and be alone, but I know I can trust Joel with it. In a way, it’s a bit more personal than showing him my room.

“What do you think?” I ask.

Joel gazes up into the clear blue sky, at the pine and oak trees that tower over our heads. “It’s like I walked into one of your paintings.”

The current is slow and inviting today, a fantastic spot to sit and study or draw. I quickly find myself at its side to hide my hot face. Joel takes his overshirt off and spreads it out over the grass. He takes a smooth rock and skips it across the water. He smirks at me but there’s something else to his expression, like a bit of pride mixed with embarrassment.

“Saw some woods like those in one of your paintings, with your brother. You take him here too?” He asks. 

I douse the embers on my shoe and place the butt in my pocket. “We found it together, actually. I thought the trees were pointing to something, and they were.” I only realize how insane the sentence sounds after it's said out loud.

“Maybe the forest wanted you to find it,” He says with only a sliver of irony.

“You don’t strike me as a spiritual type.”

“Hell no,” He pauses with another rock in hand ready to throw, but doesn’t. “Why, are you?”

“Religious you mean?”

“Yeah, all that crap.”

“Sort of,” I answer truthfully. “My father held respect for the dead, he builds shrines for my Mother and other family we’ve lost. I don’t believe in it I guess, but it helps me feel close to her, so I understand it.”

“Sorry Miles, I didn’t mean to sound like a total ass just now.”

“From your experience I don’t blame you. The fact that our universe exists at all is pretty much as unexplainable as it gets. Some higher power doesn’t seem so impossible.”

Joel jumps up, stretching his back when I know a bug just landed on him. “‘Nuff of that. I see somethin’ over thataway and I’d like to check it out.” 

“Perfect, that was our next stop actually.” About ten meters south stands an elm tree rising far into the sky. It’s base about five feet in width with branches spiraling around. An old bench circles the bottom, swallowed by centuries of growth. It sits in the perfect spot, surrounded by lush green yet shaded and cool.

Joel stares above at the canopy above our heads and steps up the bench. “Seems you’re not the only one who enjoyed it.” He says, hopping down and taking a seat. 

“C’mon,” I take Joel’s wrist in my hand and pull him off the bench, “There’s more.” I guide him to the rear side of the tree, back in the deep of the woods. Several meters away sits a heap of rotten wood, blanketed under dirt and moss.

“I think this was a house at some point, but I have no idea what happened to it. Mateo and I sometimes made up stories.”

“You should tell me your stories.”

“Maybe another time.”

Joel follows to the rear end of the rubble, testing the unstable ground with my feet. Sweeping away leaves with my feet reveals a grey trap door.

“Don’t tell me-”

“It isn’t a sex dungeon.”

He nudges me with an elbow, “So artsy, yet you lack imagination.”

Butterflies shoot through my body where we touched, I try not to let it show. “I’ve actually never been inside. Mateo checked it out once, turns out it’s full of dead things and maggots.”

Joel swallows hard, visible dread crossing his face. “Maybe just a peek…?”

Suppressing the urge to heed Mateo’s words, I place my fingers into the dirt and lift with my legs. The door is heavier than I’d expect, or sealed tightly. Joel shines a light into the murky basement, walls lined with rotten shelves, rat droppings, and of course, lots of bugs. Joel shudders, yet seems delighted at the find. He begins to dust himself off, but he spots something that silences him down to the breath. Joel illuminates a crawlspace in the far corner, leading into a long dark hallway extending beyond the light. Looking deeper, almost mesmerized by the darkness, two points of white light appear. I shoot up from the ground and slam the door shut. Joel eyes me questioningly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.

Joel zips his lips shut, heading back towards the main clearing. He dusts off the bench around the elm tree and takes a seat, I sit next to him.

“Thanks for showin’ me this,” He says. His tone changed since he arrived at my house, subtle, but there’s a little more life in it.

“I’m glad I could finally show someone. Do you want to leave? I know the bugs freak you out.”

He taps my knee with his palm, smiles, “This time, I think I’ll tough it out.”

***

It’s getting late by the time Joel and I are heading back, I can’t help but hope he leaves feeling better than when he came. The sun is hanging low over fields blowing softly. Though the forest is long behind our backs, I find myself staring back, at the silhouette of trees against pink sky. The stars peeking through seem so eerily like eyes.

At some point Joel switched on music, by the time we reach sunflower fields Joel’s playing air guitar, I join in with the drums. “God, when are we starting a band bro?”

“Unfortunately I have zero musical skills whatsoever. In another lifetime maybe.” Things continue this way until we reach my house again. “I don’t suppose you wanna come in again?”

“Thanks Miles, but I’m ‘sposed to meet with Ruby soon, figure out this family mess.” Joel smiles warmly. “But thanks for today. I really needed it.”

At the door I turn to him, “I hope you figure things out soon. Let me know if you need a place to crash, or if you wanna lose at more videogames.” 

Joel pats me on the shoulder, “I will. Night man.”

The door shuts to a quiet house, as it will stay for another endless night.

[jasonbehrs]

🎭 wear your heart where i can see 🎭

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

a dbsk fanfic about falling in love on a trial run

“But you’re a dude!”

“That will continue to be true for every lesson in the curriculum, so I suggest you get over that quickly.”

ship: yunjae chapter: 6/10 word count: 4.2k+ rating: T+ for cursing

read it on ffnet, aff, ao3, or below!

~~~

Tuesday, 6:04 Good morning!

Wednesday, 7:28 Check out this funny graffiti I saw in the locker room [picture attached]

Wednesday, 13:59 Did you skip lunch today? I was looking for you and didn't find you

Thursday, 15:27 I know you said that I'd be asked out next, but that new animated film is playing at the mall this weekend, and I kinda wanna watch it lol. Let's go together?

Thursday, 15:28 I'm aware movies aren't a good *first* date, but we've been dating for a while now. This seems fine to me?

Friday, 16:43 Or it doesn't have to be a practise date. We could just hang out

Sunday, 20:09 Hey, is everything alright? I haven't heard from you all weekend

Monday, 8:15 Jaejoong?

~~~

Yunho walks into school on Monday morning worried out of his damn mind. Jaejoong hasn't spoken to him since last week, and he has absolutely no clue what could have possibly happened to warrant such treatment. He would have gone to Jaejoong's house to check on the other boy directly if only he weren't acutely aware of how excessive that would have been.

As it stands, stalking up and down the second-year locker bays in search of the other is not any more reasonable.

A few minutes prior to the first warning bell, Jaejoong strolls up to his locker, and Yunho is so relieved to see him he doesn't even think about nagging him for cutting it so close to class.

"Jaejoong!"

"Yunho. Hi."

It's a perfectly normal greeting, so then why does it feel so weird?

"Just 'hi'?"

The corners of Jaejoong's eyes crinkle the way they do before he's about to ruin your whole day, and some of the anxiety finally loosens in Yunho's chest. "There's been a markup on opening salutations, haven't you heard? Frankly, I don't think you could afford a second one."

Yunho laughs, but in his relief it sounds more desperate than amused. "Well, I think you should give me a discount. You really worried me this weekend; it's only fair!"

There's no amount of teasing in the world that could belie the truth in his statement, and he winces as he sees Jaejoong close himself back up in response. It wouldn't have been so obvious if only he hadn't seen a hint of the carefree Jaejoong just a second ago.

"Jaejoong, what happened last week?"

He doesn't say anything at first, just shuffles around books between his backpack and his locker. The longer he remains silent, the tighter the coil in Yunho's chest wounds.

Finally, he turns to face Yunho with such a serious face that fear seizes his chest. Yunho recognises that look. It's how all his girlfriends looked the moment right before they became his ex-girlfriends, resolute and resigned.

This look has never bothered him before now.

"Yunho, I'm sorry. I should have said something sooner, but I didn't know how to break it to you. There will never be the right words or the right timing for what I'm about to say, but there's no choice now but to just say it… Yunho, I was grounded."

Somewhere in the world, there is a vinyl record scratching on a turntable needle. "Come again?"

Jaejoong sighs, heavy and put-upon and fake, as he slumps against his locker. "I know! Parents don't like it when you change the autocorrect settings in their phones so that common phrases are turned into expletives and observations on the other party's hairline. It blew my mind, too. No phone, no Internet for the whole weekend."

Yunho's laugh is hysterical with incredulity and relief. "Are you serious?"

Jaejoong nods. "I read all your texts this morning, though. Movie, right? Let's do tomorrow; neither of us have anything after school. I'll buy the tickets, you buy the snacks?"

The whiplash from thinking he's about to be really broken up with by his practise boyfriend to making real plans for a practise date tomorrow night is vertigo inducing, but Yunho rallies himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a great plan." His cheeks feel like they haven't smiled in forever.

"Cool, see you tomorrow." Jaejoong turns on his heel, and the first warning bell rings.

The smile drops from Yunho's face. That's it?

"Wait!" He rushes forward to stop Jaejoong's stride, but he doesn't even know what it is he was wanting at the end of the exchange, a fact that becomes glaringly apparent to him when Jaejoong looks back at him with a coolly expectant face.

He scrounges for literally anything coherent to say, and luckily something occurs to him just before the silence stretches out too long. "Um, is tomorrow a lesson?"

Jaejoong's lips smirk, but his eyes don't seem to play along. "Every day is a lesson, Jung." With that, he walks away and joins the crowd of students heading to their first class, a crowd among which Yunho would find himself if only he could get his feet to move.

The distinct feeling of wanting something is still haunting Yunho, but he can only purse his lips and wonder what. He tells himself that he won't figure it out by just standing here, but the rest of the day doesn't offer him any answers either.

~~~

They agreed beforehand that they'd go home to change out of their uniforms and just meet at the movies, but Yunho finds himself ready and antsy a full two hours before their meetup time. He knows there is still latent anxiety from this weekend that he wasn't able to completely shake, but he reminds himself that he's being ridiculous. He and Jaejoong are literally going on a date tonight. There is nothing to be nervous about.

He'd feel a lot better once he's with Jaejoong, though, so he texts him to see if they could expedite that part.

Perks of having a motorbike: I got home pretty quickly and finished getting ready way earlier than I thought I would. How's your timing? I could pick you up instead of just meeting at the mall

Yunho stares with laser focus at the chat box, willing the three bouncing dots to appear and let him know Jaejoong is responding. Just when Yunho thinks he should call since he's waited long enough, they pop up for a second, and Jaejoong's message comes through.

thanks, but not necessary

The other boy's impassive face from yesterday flashes through his mind again, and Yunho keens with dread. Why is Jaejoong being like this?

After another moment of sitting in his anxiety, he pulls himself together. He has to tell Jaejoong about this, that Jaejoong is making him feel this way. He probably isn't even doing it on purpose, but he should know how much it's affecting Yunho. If he could just explain himself, maybe Yunho would be better at handling it.

He nods to himself. Yes, good plan.

Okay, looking forward to it. There's something I want to talk to you about too

That looks serious. Sure, it's a serious conversation Yunho wants to have, but it's not a bad serious. He doesn't want Jaejoong to worry.

:)

There, that's better.

Jaejoong doesn't reply, and Yunho resolves not to read into it. He needs a distraction, so he reviews his outfit for the fifth time.

He had dressed a little better than normal, probably a little more formal than a movie date warrants, because he really wants to impress Jaejoong. He feels like he's learned a lot in the past few weeks, and he wants to prove that it hasn't been a waste of Jaejoong's time by fully applying his accumulated knowledge. Appraising himself in the mirror, he's gotta say: he looks good.

He stalls a little bit more by brushing his teeth again and trying to study some flash cards, but he's out of the house in the next fifteen minutes and at the mall by the end of the hour.

Jaejoong is—predictably, understandably, disappointingly—not there yet, so Yunho decides to do the gentlemanly thing and buy both the tickets and the snacks. Besides, standing in queues is a great way to pass the time.

On the snack line, he frets over what to order for Jaejoong. He knows Jaejoong prefers spicy food, but does that also apply to his snacks? Should he get something sweet like candy or something savoury like popcorn? If he buys something of everything, that's probably overkill, right? But Jaejoong likes to eat as much as he does…

When it's his turn at the register, he still hasn't made up his mind, and he panics a little bit before a voice from off to his side tells him, "I like chocolate-covered raisins."

He whirls around and finds Kwon Boa standing there in all her 5'3" unattainable-girl-next-door glory.

~~~

He is so stunned to see her that it takes the annoyed voice of the underpaid teenager at the cash register to finally prompt him into action. He hands over his debit card in a stupor, preoccupied with how Kwon Boa has taken up space at his side.

When the transaction is done and he still doesn't move, she places her hand on his arm and guides him out of the way. All he can do is stumble after her.

She's looking at him expectantly, shifting her attention from his face to his chest, and it makes him kind of uncomfortable until a crinkle of wrapper reminds him he's still holding their snacks.

"Oh!" He scrambles to finagle her raisins free so he could hand them to her, but his arms are carefully balancing popcorn and candy and drinks as well. He turns in frantic circles, searching for a surface that isn't the floor where he can unload his cargo, and the raisins slip out of the nook of his arm.

Rather, they were slid out gracefully by a dainty, manicured hand. "Thanks!" Boa says with a wide, glossy smile. She barely comes up to his shoulder, and she's probably the most adorable thing he's ever set his eyes on.

"I gotta go."

Her beaming visage cracks like porcelain. "What?"

He could kick himself. Nothing is going right tonight, least of all his words. "To the bathroom," he amends quickly. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Ah." She chuckles with an insecurity that surprises him, and he almost forgets what he was saying. "I'll hold the food."

"Thank you." For a lack of anything better to do, he bows the most stiff, awkward bow of his life and then beats a tactical retreat. As soon as the bathroom entrance shuts behind him, he phones Jaejoong. The line picks up after too many seconds. "Hello?"

"JAEJOONG, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"I'm at home," is his lackadaisical, utterly nonsensical response.

"What the hell?! Dude, you need to hurry up and get here! Kwon Boa showed up and is inviting herself to crash our date, and none of your lessons covered this circumstance!"

"Yunho, Boa is your date."

Yunho wants to have misheard him. "What?"

"Yep, you're done with the lessons. Congratulations! Consider this your graduation in practise."

"'Graduation in pr—' KIM JAEJOONG! This is not funny!"

"I'm not joking. Dude, you need to get off this phone and get to talking with her or else she'll think you're standing her up."

Yunho has a million questions to ask, starting with why is Boa his date to begin with and ending with why isn't Jaejoong; but before he can raise any of those extremely valid points, Jaejoong speaks up again. "It's not very polite of you to make her wait."

Dammit. Yunho knows Jaejoong is right, and already he can feel the unseen social cues pulling him outside to interact with the person waiting on him, but he can't end the call like this.

"Jaejoong?"

"Yeah?"

"What does this mean for us?" It's not the exact question he wants to ask, but it's close enough.

Jaejoong is silent for too many seconds. "What do you want this to mean for us?"

Yunho thinks he knows, but he also can't think right now. He hasn't been able to think properly since last week. He feels like he is learning hapkido for the first time: up against an experienced opponent who manages to block or parry every move he makes, and he can't even ask for help because the seonsaengnim who's supposed to guide him is the very person he's up against.

"We became friends, didn't we? We're friends now." He never needed affirmation on this fact before, but so many things changed between before and now.

"Yeah, we're friends now."

Jaejoong's reply and what it promises are the only things grounding him in this moment. "So I'll see you at school tomorrow? Actually you and just you?"

Jaejoong chuckles, but the connection on the phone makes it sound weak and tinny. "Yeah, okay. See you, Yunho."

Jaejoong hangs up, leaving Yunho in the bathroom with his phone clutched desperately to his ear. There's a dad and his son washing their hands in the farthest sink from him who were not there when he entered earlier.

His arms fall to his side in something approximating defeat, but he isn't entirely sure what he lost.

With a sigh, he realises there's nothing left to do but to watch this movie. He washes his hands because it's weird to leave a bathroom without washing his hands, regardless of what he did or did not do, then exits the bathroom with intention.

~~~

As they exit the movie hall, Yunho can't help but think that the date went pretty well.

Boa graciously accepted the obvious lie he made up about his mom calling him, and she didn't try anything weird in the darkness of the theatre like some other girls have done on past movie dates. In fact, she was thoroughly engrossed in the film. (At one point he heard her say, "The penguins in this movie are so talented," and he had to stifle his laugh at her genuine amazement.)

Even in the stilted conversation while waiting for the movie to start, she was altogether agreeable, personable, and undeniably beautiful. He tries to call the date enjoyable, but he can't quite make it sound like the truth.

While he's waiting for her to finish up in the bathroom, he's figuring out what happens next. What if she wants to do something afterwards? How does he tell her that it was nice to be around her, and she pleasantly surprised him, but he'd rather take her straight home? He wants to text Jaejoong for help, but he figures that goes against the spirit of graduation and holds himself back. He feels all the worse for it.

"02-312-3456," Boa says from over his shoulder, surprising him with her sudden presence for the second time this evening.

He looks up and over to find her looking down at his phone screen, showing a new text message window with a blinking cursor in the phone number field. He faces her again and meets her warm, happy eyes. "That's my number. You should text it so that I can have yours."

"R-Right. Yes. Can you repeat that?" Yunho clumsily inputs her number as Boa recites it, and he wrestles over what opening message to send before he settles for a simple Hello. He doesn't have to wait at all to receive the cute animated bibimbap sticker whose ingredients spell Hi.

When he looks back up at her, a pretty blush accompanies her grin, and he knows what that means. Somehow, despite all the ways he's messed up their date this evening, he's made her feel happy to be here.

He licks his lips, intending to say something but still unclear on what those words will be, but Boa's regretful voice cuts him off. "I'm so sorry to cut our date short, but I have to go now or else I'll miss my bus. I promise I had a really great time tonight, though," she says with emphatic authenticity. "Thanks for inviting me out."

He's so relieved it almost embarrasses him. "Where do you live? I can drop you off."

On the road, he is grateful he never bought those bluetooth helmets that let him and his passenger communicate while driving. He doesn't know if he could safely bring them to their destination if he also had to worry about making it through a real conversation with Boa without an impending movie to naturally cut them off. As it is, he's rather distracted by the flex of her hands as she holds his sides for balance. Jaejoong had held him by the shoulders every time they rode together.

Boa doesn't let go until he turns onto her street, tapping him and pointing in silent directions to a corner lot. He parks his moped then helps her take the helmet off before he questions dubiously, "This it?" There is an obvious For Sale sign staked on the lawn.

Boa hangs her head down so that some of her hair curtains her face. "Actually, no," she confesses with a shy laugh. "We passed my house a little further back, but… I wanted some privacy. To talk to you."

The one thing he's been dreading this whole night. Yunho is sure his smile comes out more like a grimace.

Boa raises her head, seeking yet guarded. "I enjoyed tonight, I really did, but I was surprised you asked me out."

Now would not be a good time to admit he was just as surprised. "Yeah?" he chuckles awkwardly, scrambling for a response that's polite and true and relevant to the conversation. "You have to know that, like, every guy at school wants the chance to date you."

She shrugs in an embarrassed manner. "Yeah, I guess. I didn't think that list included you, though. You have to know that, like, every girl compares notes on what it's like to date you," she says, reversing his inflection.

He actually did not know that, and it must be clear on his face because she is amused to reveal, "There's this Google Sheets file with your entire dating history summarised in it from your ex-girlfriends' points of view that's meant to grant the next hopeful every advantage she could get. It's like we're all on a group project together, and the goal is finding out what it takes to become Jung Yunho's girlfriend. It's frankly impressive."

He intimately understands Boa's previous embarrassment. "I'm guessing you have a copy of this file."

She nods, then her defensive walls are back up. "No one's ever said you asked them out before."

He thinks for a little, trying to find another generic, relevant truth. He settles on, "This time's different."

It's the right thing to say. The tense line of Boa's shoulders drops, and she sends him another of her radiant smiles, all teeth and dimples and unattainable-girl-next-door appeal. "That's for sure. I've never been asked out like that before."

Yunho, of course, has no idea what she's talking about, but he strives not to let it show. "What about it surprised you?"

"Getting the tickets to Sooyoung, telling her to tell me the time and place? It wasn't even phrased as a question!" she reveals with a laugh.

Sooyoung. He knows that name. She's Jaejoong's best friend in the drama club.

Boa continues, "It was gutsy of you to ask an ex to do something like that, but I could tell Sooyoung was over it and rooting for you. Your method was intriguing, in any case."

Oh, right. He had dated her too, technically. He forgot about that. He inwardly winces, grateful that she herself will never have to bear witness to how little their relationship meant to him.

Thankfully and completely unaware of his thoughts, Boa takes a bold step towards him. Closer than she ever was before, he is once again struck by how much smaller than him she is.

"Just so you know, I would have said yes if you asked me yourself, too." She holds his gaze for a moment, and he can see in her eyes that she's about to do something that he won't expect. His muscles tense in anticipation, though whether he will fight or flee is still to be determined.

She smiles at him again, a small sliver of beauty, and leaves a kiss on his cheek.

Yunho spends a long time standing there. Long enough for Boa to walk back home, probably. Long enough for him to forget he should have walked her to her door. Long enough that the tingle on his skin should have dissipated already if not for the hand he has pressed against the spot she kissed.

He wonders if it was supposed to feel like this.

~~~

Jaejoong is the one to find him at school the next day, and Yunho's lungs expand with all the unvoiced words he wants to say to him.

Jaejoong doesn't let him, of course. "So how was the graduation ceremony?"

Yunho deflates against the lockers. In the space where breath should be, he only feels relief. Jaejoong seems normal today. He can play along with the metaphor for now if it means getting to just be around the Jaejoong he's used to again. "I think yours and my concepts of graduation are completely different," he says. "I'm supposed to know that they're happening, for one."

Jaejoong shrugs. "Guerilla graduation."

"They're supposed to be happy, exciting occasions."

"You mean to tell me you weren't excited to be on a date with your dream girl?"

"She's not my dream gir—I wasn't not excit—movies aren't good first dates!" In his struggle to pick a point of contention, all of his arguments fall flat, and Jaejoong's eyebrow raise proves it.

Yunho gathers his wits again and decides to just ask the question that kept him up last night. "Boa complimented me when I dropped her off at home. She said it was 'intriguing' of me to use my ex-girlfriend to ask her out." He watches Jaejoong's face for any changes and finds the polite openness melt into neutrality, confirming the unspoken accusation. "Why did you do that?"

Jaejoong's jaw noticeably tightens, just for a second, then he adopts a teasing affectation. "It was a little bit of a graduation for me, too. My first official act as your dating mentor as opposed to your tutor."

"I wasn't ready to graduate, though!" It's the truest thing he's been able to say all week.

Jaejoong looks at him with something akin to disbelief, but not quite. It's a little darker than that, and more confusing. Almost like dissatisfaction. "This was your endgame though, wasn't it? Getting to date Boa is the reason you went along with the lessons in the first place. Yesterday should have been the happiest day of your life."

There is a desperate, erratic energy under Yunho's skin that reminds him of times when he was at sparring practise and he grossly miscalculated the opponent's moves. When he feinted instead of standing his ground. When he was left off balance with no course correction without outright forfeiting.

Jaejoong is wrong. He is so, so wrong, but what can Yunho say now to make him understand that?

"I was gonna take my time. This is too sudden. I'm probably gonna mess it up." There are too many facets to his unease, and this one is just the easiest to identify and articulate.

The corners of Jaejoong's eyes crinkle, and that too is a little darker than playful teasing. "You better not! How am I supposed to get any more tutoring clients if you fail right out the gate? No one else will ever trust me with their romantic futures."

He's joking, Yunho knows he's joking, but the idea of Jaejoong teaching anyone else how to date the way he taught him makes Yunho want to practise palm strikes on the nearest available surface.

"You made it past Round 1, and now it's time for the real fun. Don't sweat it so much, Jung." Jaejoong stops; and for a second, he's completely normal again. No darkness, no distance. "A rhyming triplet!" he giddily announces.

It makes Yunho yearn. "I was really looking forward to hanging out with you last night."

"Oh, Jung." A shroud of normalcy seems to fall apart around Jaejoong, leaving him with bags under his eyes that weren't there before and shoulders weighed down with melancholy. Yunho recoils backward, and the vision clears. Jaejoong looks like he always has, lately. "There'll be other movies," he assures with a swift pat on Yunho's shoulder.

It was never about the movie, but Jaejoong can't hear that right now. The impression he witnessed before looked like the other was barely keeping himself together. Even though he doesn't know why, Yunho does know a few quick minutes in the school hallway is not the time nor the place to potentially cause a breakdown. "Yeah, of course, but Jaejoong," he says quickly. "Are you okay? You can talk to me about anything, you know. We're friends."

Jaejoong smiles at him, but it doesn't bring Yunho the bubbly rush of lightness that usually accompanies the sight. "I know. We're friends." The words sound final. "I'll see you later, okay, Yunho?"

Not okay, actually. He feels like Jaejoong is always promising later. One look at Jaejoong's deep, almost begging eyes, though, and he lets it go. "Okay," he says with a smile, and he tries not to feel like he's making a huge mistake.

~~~

A/N (4.19.2023): That Boa tweet is actually my favourite tweet of all time, don’t @ me. 

I won't be able to update until next week. Also, please check out Chapter 4 again! I added an extra scene at the end that I originally had in Chapter 6, but I realised it would make more sense before the events of this chapter. Sorry about all this retconning. I solemnly swear to return to my previous method of uploading fics only after they're entirely written b.c this is a MESS haha.

[nascar-fanfics]

the mason sisters: seven

summary: mercy has an awesome race, despite an annoyance, fun times with a track family, and feelings confessed.

word count: 5379

warnings: swearing, noah gragson, period cramps

next chapter | masterlist

(a/n: i created a character descriptions carrd! it’s on the masterlist, which you can find here!)

mercy woke up to a cramp. she checked the time on her phone and noticed it was almost five in the morning. she noticed her bed was really comfortable. ‘this isn’t my room.’ mercy thought to herself. she noticed she was in alex’s room, alex nowhere to be found. mercy saw a note next to her phone, picking it up and reading it.

‘You fell asleep shortly after we came back inside. I figured the car ride would wake you up, so I let you sleep in my bed. Wake me if you need anything :)’

 a smile she got up out of the bed to go change her pad and take some more pamprin. she noticed on her way to the bathroom, alex was asleep on the couch. he looked so peaceful, she didn’t want to wake him. she crept quietly to the bathroom and shut the door. she pressed her back to the door and let out a huge sigh. mercy couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that alex had put her in his bed. did she have help getting there, like him carrying her? no, he probably woke her up and helped her to his room. either way, she’s thankful alex was around. mercy sat on the toilet and checked her phone for texts. she saw multiple from katelyn, laurie, and tyler.

rascal: ‘Where are you?’

rascal: ‘Nevermind, Alex texted me. See you in the morning, sleep well.’

bestie for the restie: ‘austin cried at moulin rouge djjshjddkd’

bestie for the restie: ‘hope ur doing okay <3’

unknown number: ‘Hey! It’s Tyler. Kate gave me your number, hope you’re doing okay! Katelyn invited me to watch the race tomorrow. I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow sometime! :)’

mercy marked the messages unread so she could respond to them in the morning. after finishing up, she washed her hands and headed out of the bathroom, shutting the light off and leaving the door open. she noticed alex getting a glass of water. “shit, i hope i didn’t wake you.” mercy blurted, fixing her messy braids. “no, you didn’t wake me. roscoe needed to go out.” alex chuckled, taking a sip of his water. mercy stood by the back door, looking out at the backyard to see the sun coming up. “a cramp woke me up, so i took some more pamprin. it wasn’t super painful, but it couldn’t hurt to help future me.” she turned to look at alex. “how did you get me to your room? did i just walk there or did you carry me?” alex took another sip of his water, glancing at mercy, then letting roscoe back inside. “that is a secret i will never reveal.” alex taunted, petting roscoe on the head. “you definitely didn’t carry me. you would’ve dropped me.” mercy scoffed, a small smirk on her face. “you’re pretty light. these guys are heavy.” alex yawned, taking another sip of his water and setting it on the kitchen counter. “i feel bad that you have to sleep on the couch. you could’ve left me on the couch.” “i wouldn’t have felt right leaving you on the couch.” alex leaned against the wall next to mercy, about a foot of space between them. “you’ve got a race in ten hours. go back to bed. i can bring you to the track.” “alex, you don’t have to do that. i gotta get dressed and shower before i get over there.” “i don’t mind. you’re probably the only person i’ll do this for.” mercy yawned, resting her head on the wall. “you’re a really good person, alex. i really appreciate you.” alex’s heart fluttered at mercy’s compliment, a light blush on his face. “thanks, merc. seriously, go back to bed.” he laughed. “i wanna see you win today.” “i’ll shout you out.” mercy chuckled, putting her phone in the hoodie pocket. she grabbed her glass of water and started to head to alex’s room. she turned around and gave alex a quick hug. “seriously, thank you for everything. you’re the best.” alex froze for a second, then hugged mercy back. “it’s no problem at all.” mercy didn’t want to let go. alex was so warm, and she felt safe in his arms. after another few seconds, mercy let go of the hug and pat alex on the arm. “i’ll see you in a few hours.” “see you in a few. sleep well!” “you too.” mercy beamed, taking her glass of water and heading into alex’s room. she shut the door behind her and pressing her back up against the door. she stood at the door, a big smile on her face. she headed back to bed, taking the hoodie and her shirt off, climbing under the covers and staring at the ceiling. she covered her face with her hands, a small giggle and squeak leaving her body. she was head over heels for the tucson native. alex laid back down on the couch, covering himself with the blanket. he stared at the light fixture, thinking about the moment he and mercy had. he has no idea mercy likes him, but he certainly can’t stop thinking about her. he thought about her as he drifted to sleep.

mercy woke up to her alarm at nine, pressing snooze and pulling the covers over her head. she let out a somewhat loud groan, forgetting alex is in the living room. she shut her eyes again, but the light from the sun still kept the room bright. “fuck it. i’m up.” mercy ripped the covers off of her, the cold air practically smacking her body. she shivered audibly, throwing her shirt and alex’s hoodie on. she opened the door a little and saw alex half awake on his phone. “morning.” mercy waved. “am i good to come out?” “morning.” alex’s morning voice made mercy blush. “yeah, come on out. i’ll get us something to eat.” “thanks.” mercy yawned, stretching her arms up above her head. she pet finn and roscoe on their heads, scratching under their jaws. “morning, boys! i hope you two slept well!” “they woke me up just before you came out here, little brats.” alex joked, sitting up and stretching his arms. “did you sleep okay?” “yeah, i did. thanks. i might have to steal your bed. it’s so comfy, i felt like i was sleeping on a cloud.” mercy sighed, a slight smile on her face. “how about you?” “up until the dogs jumped on me, i slept pretty well.” “good.” mercy fiddled with the sleeves of the hoodie, pulling them over her hands. “why does it have to be so cold?” “i enjoy it.” “you’re crazy. black coffee and enjoying the cold?” “where did i grow up?” “right.” mercy nodded. “back at you, where did i grow up?” “new hampshire.” “exactly.” alex opened the fridge and grabbed bacon and eggs. “anything specific you want?” “scrambled eggs and some toast, lightly toasted?” “sounds good.” “thanks again. i appreciate this.” mercy sat at the table, scrolling through twitter. she saw a tweet that tagged both her and alex in it, saying they should be a couple. “did you see that tweet about us becoming a couple?” alex asked mercy, adding some mozzarella and cheddar cheese to mercy’s scrambled eggs. “yeah. i just came across it. what if i like it to mess with the fans?” mercy looked over at alex, who had a grin on his face. “retweet it and see what people say.” “i’m just gonna like it.” mercy tapped on the like button, then scrolling again. she saw some tweets from her friends, liking and replying to them. “breakfast is ready!” alex brought over two plates, one with his food and one with mercy’s food. “thanks again. i appreciate you making me breakfast. i owe you again.” mercy took a sip of her apple juice. “it’s no problem, i don’t mind doing this. i’m not a very good cook, but i can make some mean scrambled eggs.” alex sat next to mercy, setting his phone down and eating his bacon. “do you eat ba- wait, you’re a vegetarian, right?” “yep. i miss chicken a lot, though.” mercy took a bite of her scrambled eggs. “holy fucking shit, alex. these are so good. you’re making me breakfast from this day forward.” alex laughed at mercy’s ramble about his cooking. “thanks. i don’t mind doing it.” “i’m literally drooling, dude. i’m like your dogs when they see treats.” “i’m glad you like them. it doesn’t take much time if you wanna learn how i make them?” mercy nodded quickly, her smile growing. her phone pinged with a text from katelyn. 

‘Hey sis! I hope you’re up now. Gotta get to the track soon.’

‘yeah, alex is gonna drop me off at home and watch the race with y’all.’

‘Cool! I hope they’ll let him in.’

‘they will. i’ll use the family excuse >:)’

‘Sneaky sister.’

‘speaking of alex, he made me breakfast :)’

‘Show me!’

“katelyn wants a picture of you and i with the breakfast you made.” “oh god, i look terrible.” alex chuckled, fixing his hair. “dude, you look better than i do at the moment. look at my hair.” mercy flattened her hair as much as she could. she opened the camera app and took a video of her food and alex. “your hair certainly looks better than mine.” alex held up a peace sign and a closed-mouth smile. “dude, i’m recording.” “you said it would be a picture! hi katelyn.” alex waved, giving mercy a joking glare. “i lied, sorry.” mercy made a pouty face as alex flipped her off. “hey! meanie!” both alex and mercy laughed as she ended the video. she sent the video to katelyn and set her phone down. “i should be at the track no later than noon.” “shit, it’s almost ten. are you sure you don’t want to shower here?” “i appreciate the offer, but i don’t have any clean clothes or my soaps. i do like the smell of the stuff you use, but i’d feel bad if i used your stuff.” mercy immediately cringed, practically admitting she liked the way alex smelled. “i-i meant your stuff sm-smells nice, bu-but not on me.” alex grinned, a small chuckle escaping. “you’re fine. i can’t tell if that’s a compliment, but i appreciate it if it is.” “i-i guess it is.”

mercy grabbed her purse, shoved her phone in it, and put her shoes back on. “are you sure you don’t mind dropping me off? i’m way out of the way of the track.” “seriously, i don’t mind. we should get going.” “okay, thanks again.” mercy smiled, petting finn and roscoe. “i’ll see you two soon!” mercy headed out of alex’s house and to his truck. “wanna take the truck today?” “yeah, i like the way the speakers sound with my music.” alex started his truck from the house, unlocking his door and checking it, then heading to his truck. “can i connect my phone?” “yeah, sounds good.” mercy connected her phone and shuffled the playlist she made when she goes on drives with alex. after pressing shuffle, mercy texts katelyn.

‘kate, i’m headed home. be there in a few :)’

‘See you soon! ^^’

“i might need to pick up some uncrustables before we leave for the track.” alex muttered, glancing at mercy. “sounds good. see if you can find the peanut butter and honey ones! those are the best. i haven’t been able to find them for a while.” “sounds good, i thought you were gonna say the strawberry ones. i was about to stop the truck and let you walk home.” alex laughed, tapping his steering wheel. “katelyn loves those, i despise them.” mercy gagged. “they’re so gross.” “i know, right? they’re terrible!” alex slowed the truck down at a stoplight, turning to mercy. “alright, what’s better; nutella uncrustables or grape jelly?” “the nutella ones are the best along with the peanut butter and honey ones.” “you’re so smart, mason.” “why thank you, bowman. i think you’re pretty smart, too.” mercy bowed her head, letting out a chuckle. alex turned back to the steering wheel, noticing the light turned green. “do you want me to text you when i’m on my way or do you wanna text me when you’re done?” “either way is fine, i hopefully won’t take long. i just gotta shower and put my clothes on.” alex nodded, turning into the mason household’s driveway. “thanks for letting me stay over and everything. mercy got out and started to head to the door. alex followed her, walking her to her door. “i’ll see you in a bit.” mercy smiled, giving alex’s arm a squeeze. she unlocked her door and saw katelyn sitting on the couch. “how are the lovebirds?” “katelyn, you’re obnoxious, tyler’s chill. shut up.” “i meant you and-oh, hey alex.” “hey katelyn, i assume you’re gonna be at the track later? do you need anything from the store?” “strawberry uncrustables?” “i told you, alex, she’s the number one strawberry uncrustable fan!” “well, she’s a psychopath!” alex laughed as mercy set her purse on the table. “alright, i’ll pick you both up after i grab some stuff at the store.” “see you soon!” katelyn waved. mercy headed to the door, giving alex a side-hug. “you’re gonna have to get used to me hugging you.” mercy giggled. “i’m a hugger, i think you knew that.” “ha, yep.” alex chuckled, side-hugging mercy. “alright, go shower!” “yes, sir!” mercy saluted, laughing as she locked the door behind alex. “just get married already.” “katelyn!” mercy flipped her sister off, heading upstairs to her bathroom. she grabbed some clothes out of her closet, a somewhat tight my chemical romance shirt, black leggings, a sports bra, and two pairs of underwear; one period and one regular.

after taking her shower, she decided to leave her hair down and let it somewhat air dry before she put her hair in braids at the track. mercy got dressed and checked her phone, seeing a text from alex that he’s on his way. “rascal! alex is on his way. if i’m not down there, can you let him in, please?” mercy unwrapped her towel and hung it back up, grabbing her clothes and getting dressed in her room. she checked her phone again and saw a text from aj.

‘Hey niece! Family meeting before the race, it’ll be at your hauler this week.’

‘cool! see you then. thanks for letting me know :)’

‘No problem! See you then :)’

mercy finished putting her clothes on, brushing out her hair and contemplating whether to wear a little mascara or not. she decides against it, saving a little time. mercy grabs her firesuit, putting the legs on and tying the arms around her waist. she finishes brushing out her hair, grabbing a few ponytail holders and heading downstairs. “oh, hey alex! i hope i didn’t take too long.” “nope, just got here.” “okay, good. i’m ready, i just gotta put my shoes on.” mercy sat on the stool by the island, putting her racing shoes on and bringing her filas with her. “alright, i’m ready. kinda nervous for today. i have a team meeting, so if you two wanna head to my pit box, i’ll meet you after.” “cool. got extra masks?” “mmhm, i always have extras. our parents are really high risk.” “understandable. oh, i brought uncrustables for us. they’re in the truck.” “awesome! laurie’s gonna be there today as well, she’s gonna be at austin’s pit.” katelyn smiled, getting her purse and heading to the door. “you’re gonna kick ass today, mason.” alex held mercy’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “you’ll win today.” mercy smiled, a light blush on her face as she opened the door. “shit, is it gonna rain today?” katelyn looked up at the sky. “yeah, i saw it’s gonna rain during the race. that’s why i’m nervous.” “like alex said, you’re gonna kick ass.” “thanks, sis.” mercy locked the door behind them, testing it to make sure the house is locked.

mercy held up her lanyard, showing the security member that she’s racing today. “go on ahead.” “thanks!” alex nodded, driving off. mercy quickly threw her hair in a ponytail, a few pieces of her hair hanging to frame her face. mercy let out a breath, shaking her head. “gonna kick ass today. rain isn’t gonna affect anything. just the air.” she mumbled to herself, noticing the rainclouds coming in. alex parked where he was directed. they got out of alex’s truck, putting their masks on. mercy kept her firesuit tied at her waist, grabbing her phone and bringing up her and aj’s texts.

‘i’m here! i’ll be at my hauler in a few minutes.’

‘Justin said he’s ten out. I’m pulling into the parking lot now. See you in a minute!’

‘see you in a min :)’

“alright, i gotta get to my hauler. i’ll see you guys soon.” mercy hugged katelyn, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “see you soon, sis, love you.” “love you too.” katelyn gave her sister a kiss on the cheek, grabbing her biceps. “go get that win, mercy.” “i’ll try, katelyn.” mercy messed with katelyn’s hair, giggling. “meanie!” mercy turned to alex, giving him a hug as well. “i’ll see you in a bit, have fun getting to know my rascal more.” she laughed, patting alex on the back. “i’ll keep an eye on her.” “tyler said he’s gonna be here in a minute, i’ll let security know he’s with us.” “okay, tell him to meet me at the pit box! love you!” “love you too!” 

mercy connected her headphones to her phone, listening to her raceday playlist. she said hi to the other crews and drivers that passed her. she noticed her crew chief, matt. “matt! hey, aj mentioned a team meeting being held at my hauler?” “yeah, i heard about that. come on in, you’re the first one here.” matt let mercy into her hauler, her crew, aj, justin, and ross cheering as she walked in. “shit! y’all scared the hell outta me!” mercy laughed, holding her hand over her chest. “congrats on the ride!” justin smiled, giving mercy a hug. “thanks, older little brother.” mercy hugged him back, patting him on the back. “uncle aj! did you organize this entire thing?” “i sure did, my wonderful niece!” aj pulled mercy into a hug, rocking her back and forth. “thanks, aj. you’re the best uncle.” she broke the hug, noticing ross with his arms open. “cousin ross!” mercy hugged ross, patting him on the back. “seriously, you’re gonna kick ass next year. i’m so proud of you.” “thank you, ross.”

“hey, y’all! there wasn’t a meeting, it was a little party before the race. they congratulated me on the ride. i got some cake, saved y’all some.” mercy held up the plastic bag filled with slices of cake, sodas, and chips. “figured y’all might be hungry during the race.” mercy stuck the straw of her drink up her mask, taking a sip of her pink lemonade. “thanks! i’ll never say no to cake.” alex smiled. “tyler! hey, i’m glad you could make it.” “glad to be here. i wanna see you kick ass.” “well, hopefully, i can keep it up front. i got fourth in qualifying. doesn’t matter, though. there wasn’t any ‘qualifying’.” “we’ll be cheering you on!” mercy stood by her car, pulling her phone out and opening the camera. “matt, could you do me a huge favor? can you take a picture of the four of us with my car?” “absolutely!” mercy stood in front of the window net, alex on her left, katelyn on her right, and tyler next to katelyn. she wrapped her arm around katelyn’s shoulders and her other arm around alex’s back. alex’s arm was wrapped around mercy’s waist, a slight blush on her face from the contact. “alright, got it! i took a few, i know how you kids are.” “thanks matt. i’m assuming we’re gonna be good on points if we don’t win next round?” “you sure you wanna know?” “no.” mercy laughed, patting her crew chief on the shoulder. mercy stood by her car, holding the umbrella that matt gave her at her hauler. “alright, showtime.” mercy mumbled to herself, hearing the announcement for fans to rise and remove hats.

after the anthem, mercy hugged katelyn, tyler, and alex. she gave matt a fist bump and tucked her hair into her firesuit top, giving her friends and sister a thumbs up. she climbed into the car and situated her helmet. mercy took a deep breath in, let it out, and pressed the mic button. “can y’all hear me good?” “10-4, you’re clear.” “yep, all clear.” paul, mercy’s spotter, called. “cool, can’t wait to kick ass today. got one of my future teammates with me, alex, my sister, katelyn, and tyler, who’s in the first stage of dating my sister.” “bet that hits rough.” matt chuckled. “not really, just makes me feel more lonely.” “the way you and alex look at each other, though, i have a feeling you’re not just gonna be teammates.” “matt, shush. paul, you heard nothing.” “mercy, have a great race today!” matt kaulig perked up over the radio. “hey matt! thanks, i’m hoping to get you another win. let’s do this.” “fire it up, missy.” matt the crew chief held a thumbs up to mercy. mercy turned the car on, the vibration from the engine filling her ears. “let’s get this win.”

mercy stepped on the gas, heading onto the track. “the nine is getting obnoxious. he keeps slowing down when i speed up. i can’t stand to look at him.” mercy grumbled over the radio. “it’s just the caution laps, you’re almost there.” “i can’t wait to pass him.” mercy sped up as noah sped up, fishtailing the car. “three, two, one, green, green, green.” matt blurted over the radio, mercy stepping on the gas and pushing the nine forward. “one behind you, outside, outside, clear.”

it was the last lap of stage one. mercy and noah were fighting for second. “fucking hell, noah’s getting on my last nerve.” mercy stepped on the gas and passed the nine, finishing second in the first stage. “good job, merc.” “thanks guys, you’re the best.” mercy headed down pit road when it was open, stopping at her pit box. “go, go, go!” matt yelled through the radio, mercy speeding out of her pit box, ending up first off of pit road, noah second. “alright, don’t be mad, but the nine came off second.” “i swear i’m gonna lose my mind.” mercy groaned, seeing the nine behind her.

stage two had finished, mercy finishing third this time behind her teammate. “p3, mercy, good job out there. nice job avoiding that caution a while back.” “thanks matt, car’s a little tight, but running really well. y’all brought me a good car this week, thanks.” “10-4!” matt called, mercy bringing her car down pit road and receives four tires, gas, and a looser car. “go, now!” mercy sped off pit road again, ending up first off of pit road. “hell yeah, first!” “awesome job, guys. thanks for sending me off quick.” mercy smiled, tapping her steering wheel. stage three begins and justin is right behind mercy, pushing her ahead of everyone else.

“ten to go, merc, go get that win!” “yes sir.” mercy weaves her way through the track, getting behind aj for third. “i love you uncle aj, but i really want that win.” the caution comes out with six to go.

the caution ends, mercy behind aj again. she pushes him ahead, but chase briscoe gets a good push from behind and ends up ahead of aj. another caution comes out at lap 64 with four laps to go. “four to go, gonna go into overtime. need anything beforehand?” “10-4, matt. i think i’m good. i just wanna get this win.” “we’ve got a good chance, for this time and the whole organization.” “10-4.”

“three, two, one, go!” matt yells, mercy speeding up and pushing aj in front of the 98. she gets in front of the 98, a big chunk of space between her and the field. she follows aj around the track, trying to get a spot where she can pass him for the win. “inside, inside, clear.” paul shouts into the mic, mercy annoyed that she can’t pass aj. “one to go.” matt tells mercy. “10-4.” “one behind, you’re good.” paul shouts. “right on your bumper.” “who the fuck is this?” “are you gonna be surprised it’s the nine? outside, clear.” “you’re absolutely kidding me.” mercy groaned. “it’s like he’s been on my ass the entire time.” mercy speeds ahead of noah, finishing second behind aj. “great job, guys. birthday weekend next week, merc.” “ha, yeah, i’ll be 21 on sunday. sadly, can’t drink if i win on saturday.” mercy laughed, bumping aj’s bumper. “uncle aj! woohoo!” noah passed her on the cool-down lap, bumping into the side of her. “what the fuck is his problem?” “no idea. don’t go storming over to his car, just stay with aj.” “10-4.” mercy slowed down on pit road, getting out and heading to her pit box. “didn’t get the win for y’all, but we got second!” “really good job today, merc. proud of you, kid.” matt hugged his driver, a big smile on their faces. “gotta go see uncle aj, back to back wins!” mercy jumped up and down, going over to her friends. “congrats merc! i’m so happy for you.” tyler gave mercy a hug, patting her back a couple times. “thanks, ty! glad you came out to see me try to kick ass.” she laughed, turning to look over at katelyn, who practically jumped into mercy’s arms. “i’m so proud of you sis, you kicked ass today.” “thanks, kate. it’s your turn to kick ass next week.” “merc, i can’t get over how badass you are on the track.” alex beamed, hugging his teammate. “well, thank you, alex. i think you’re pretty badass on the track, too.” “thanks merc.” alex patted mercy’s back as the rain began to fall again. “alright, i gotta go see uncle aj. anyone wanna come with?” the three of them joined mercy to go congratulate her teammate.

aj was being interviewed by nbc when the four walked into the building. “UNCLE AJ!!” mercy yelled, fixing her mask and running to aj, who got spooked and almost fell over from mercy’s hug. “my favorite niece! thanks for the help.” aj laughed, rocking mercy back and forth. mercy grabbed a water and dumped it on aj. “as if i’m not already wet from the rain!” aj hugged mercy again, getting her firesuit wet. “congrats again, uncle aj!” mercy threw a peace sign up at the camera and hugged aj again. “i’ll see you for the family picture.” 

once mercy was finished being interviewed, she headed back out with her umbrella to meet up with her friends. “hey, whenever y’all wanna leave, we can! i can get dressed at home.” “no, go ahead and get changed, you’re probably drenched.” katelyn pushed mercy into the women’s bathroom, a laugh escaping them. “alright, i’ll be out in a minute.” “sounds good!” katelyn nodded, turning back to tyler and alex. “so, what are we up for?” tyler shrugged. “i wouldn’t mind going on a drive. i know going for drives always makes me calmer.” “yeah, that sounds fun!” katelyn smiled. “how about you, alex?” “y-yeah, a drive sounds good.” alex nodded, looking up from his phone. he was texting mercy, who was supposed to be changing.

‘i’m glad katelyn pushed me into the bathroom, honestly. i was starting to stink and i really needed to put deodorant on. i would hate for your truck to smell like my stink lmao’

‘You know there’s a thing called febreeze, right?’

‘yeah lmao i figured i’d be nice. you doing okay, bud? you looked really pale.’

‘Just really nervous for tomorrow. I’m worried I won’t make it to the round of 8.’

‘you’re gonna make it, alex! i know you and how well you run here. you’re gonna make it to the round of 8, i know it! <3’

‘Thanks, Merc. You’re the best :)’

‘that’s all you buddy. alright, i’m done changing. be right out.’

‘Alright, see you in a second’

mercy opened the bathroom door to see katelyn, tyler, and alex chatting. “hey, y’all, i’m ready to head out.” mercy fixed her shirt and put her bag over her shoulders. “i heard something about a car ride? that sounds fun.” “i was thinking about carpooling with tyler, if that’s okay with you, sis.” “absolutely, rascal! meet us for dinner at our place?” “we’ll pick up dinner.” tyler smiled, linking katelyn’s arm in his. “awesome! let me know where you’re ordering and i’ll send you what we want.” “cool. see y’all at eight?” “eight is good. see you then!” mercy waved to tyler and katelyn, who headed to tyler’s car. mercy looked around, swinging her arms. “so, uh, how are you?” she asked alex, who was staring off into space. “anxious.” “i get it, alex. i totally understand.” mercy saw alex’s hands starting to shake, a sign of an anxiety attack coming on. “hey, alex, hey.” mercy grabbed alex’s hands, bringing him into the bathroom so he could sit on the counter. she traced his knuckles, keeping eye contact. “alex, look at me. what do you see? what do you smell? what do you hear?” “i-i see you, uh, i sm-smell soap, deodorant, i he-hear the fan running and-and rain falling.” “good, good. what do you taste?” “th-the cake you gave us. the pink lemonade yo-you brought.” “great. focus on my fingers. close your eyes.” mercy traced circles into alex’s hands and arms. “you feeling a little better?” alex nodded, opening his eyes to see mercy with a small smile on her face. “good. do you wanna sit for another minute?” “ye-yeah. if you have time.” “i don’t have anything else to do until tomorrow, which is watching you race.” mercy smiled, lightly grabbing alex’s shoulder. “i-if you’re okay with me coming tomorrow.” “yeah, absolutely.” alex had a light blush on his face at how close he and mercy were. “cool.” mercy smiled. “i’ll be the loudest person there cheering for you.” “can’t wait to hear you.” alex beamed, a chuckle escaping him. “i’m ready to head out when you are.” “yeah, i’m ready.” mercy backed up to give alex room to get down from the counter. 

before they headed into the parking lot, alex stopped mercy and stepped closer to her. “i, uh, wanted to thank you again for helping me with my anxiety attack. i really appreciate it.” “it’s no problem, alex. i don’t mind helping you out. i know my ways around anxiety, i’ve been suffering with it my entire life.” mercy half-smiled. “i sometimes can’t handle it, but most of the time, i can keep myself calm under extreme anxiety. next time you feel anxious, come to me for tips.” “i’ll do that.” mercy noticed a blush on alex’s face again. “can i, uh, admit something to you that might ruin our friendship?” “oh god, you’ve killed someone.” alex laughed. “oh, no, i haven’t… yet.” mercy smirked, a chuckle coming out of her. “i hope i won’t be your first.” alex beamed, scratching the back of his head. “seriously, what’s up?” “i, uh, have been feeling a certain way… ab-about you.” mercy paused, a massive blush on her face. “i, uh, i really… uh…” she looked up at alex, who gently grabbed her chin, his thumb just under her lower lip. “if you’re gonna say you like me, feeling’s mutual.” he smirked, his cheeks growing a touch of pink. “oh thank god, i didn’t have to actually say it out loud.” mercy chuckled, pushing her hair back out of her face. “but, uh, yeah, i do. i really do. you’re kind, funny, re-!” mercy was interrupted by alex planting a kiss on her lips, the rain falling down on them. it was the cheesiest moment of their lives, but right now, all they could care about was being with each other.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table. 

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

[tea-stained-notes]

Steve Rogers x OFC - Waiting On a Miracle, Chapter 1

After catching an infamous serial killer in the act, Julie Castillo is in line for the witness protection program. She is sent to a temporary safe house with U.S. Marshal Steve Rogers to protect her. Both of them scarred by trauma and tragedy, they find solace in each other. But how far will they dare to go?

Okay, kids: This bitch was desperate for a good old-fashioned cabin fic with sad-boi-but-make-him-sad-in-cosy-flannel-Steve and some musical theatre content because all of those things provide me with stupidly much serotonin lol

There won’t be any Steve in the first chapter cause it’s gonna be my longest fic yet and our MC needs a little exposition. She’s also got a name because it makes sense for this story, promise ;)

Final note: I don’t really speak Spanish, so if there’s any mistakes, please let me know. When it comes to accuracy regarding the witness protection program - I’m definitely gonna take some liberties there. This is a merely a silly little fanfic after all lol

Series warnings: violence, death, angst, trauma, smut

Chapter warnings: violence (non-graphic), death, angst

Chapter word count: ~1600 

Song(s) referenced: Breathe (In the Heights)

“Your morsal surfaces are quite worn down.” “Whua?” I asked. “Do you grind your teeth at night?” My dentist removed her tools from my mouth. “Not that I know of.” She felt my jaw muscles and made me bite down a couple of times. “Does that hurt?” “Uh, a little?” She rolled her chair across the room and hacked some words into the keyboard. “Are you under a lot of stress?” “Well, I am a New Yorker.” I attempted a grin but it quickly died down as she eyed me carefully. “I’m an assistant stage manager on Broadway. It’s not exactly low-pressure.” “Hm. I’m afraid you’re overly tense at times and start clenching your teeth as a result. Try to be mindful of that. We’ll talk about it again next time.” I nodded and she gave me a smile. “Other than that we’re done for today. See you in six months, Miss Castillo.”

I rushed to the subway station. My lunch break would be over over in ten minutes and there was no way I’d make it back in time. At least I had become an expert at weaving through crowds, keeping a steady pace to the low-fi tunes from my headphones. The city was drenched in an unusual heat for early October and the masses of people swarming the endless concrete made it worse. My shirt clung to my back, a mixture of sweat and mascara burning in my eyes. The spicy aroma of burritos wafted through the air and my stomach rumbled. The subway was delayed. Of course. I paced up and down the platform, repeatedly checking the time on my phone. And then I noticed it for the first time - I was clenching my teeth. Hard enough for it to hurt. I relaxed my jaw and absentmindedly rubbed the sore muscles, wondering how I’d never realised this before. My phone lit up with a text from my dad. How are you, cariño? Haven’t heard from you in a while. Call me x I swiped the text away, unclenching my jaw again. Just then another message popped up. Jules, where are you? Samira needs you On my way back, be there in 15 Finally the train roared out of the tunnel. I slid into a seat, closed my eyes and turned up the music.

“Anyone seen Julie?” “I’m here, I’m here!” I huffed out as I sprinted down the corridor towards the stage manager. “Sorry, Sam.” “Everything okay? I’ve been looking all over for you.” “I know, Finn texted me. Just ran late at the dentist. Did you wanna go over the changes from today’s rehearsal?” “Yep, let’s grab coffee first though.” We made our way to the kitchen and I briefly glanced at the free but horrendous drip brew before deciding to splurge on the good stuff. I fed the machine a few coins and pressed the button for a double-shot latte. Samira patted her pockets down for change but couldn’t seem to find any. I rummaged through my own jeans and pulled out another couple of coins. “Thanks, love. You’re literally my favorite person here.” She gave me a tired but genuine smile while punching her order in. “You doing okay?” “Yeah sure. Just… waiting for the weekend.” “What weekend?” “Exactly.” Samira laughed “We need to do brunch again sometime. I mean I really don’t know when on earth I’ll find the time, but we’ll work something out, okay?” “Definitely sounds like you could use to vent a little.” “Again, you’re my favorite.” She reached for her coffee. “Let’s get started then.”

I was dead tired when I shuffled upstairs after the show, but couldn’t bring myself to go home where my roommate and her girlfriend were most likely giggling at one of those low-budget horror movies they loved to watch. If I couldn’t be alone at home, I’d rather be alone among a million strangers. Just when I was trying to decide on a place to eat someone threw an arm around me and I flinched but quickly recognized the waft of sweet cologne. “Hey bestie, wanna get dinner?” I smiled up at Finn and slung my arm around his waist. My friend’s company was the only one I could tolerate on a night like  this. “Burritos? Been craving those all day.” He grimaced. “With my IBS? Have mercy.” I laughed and elbowed him gently. “Gross.” “Let me take care of the wigs right quick and then we’re off, okay?” I sat in the corner while Finn organized his work station for the next day, mindlessly scrolling through social media. My eyes caught on the blinding grin of an old theatre friend in full costume. Can finally reveal the big news: I’m the new Fantine at the Imperial! Catch my first show on March 12th! ❤️ A sharp pain flashed through my jaw and I quickly released the tension before shoving the phone into my pocket. “Ready? I’m starving.”

We took the subway to 175th Street, then grabbed a bean burrito for me and a box of fried noodles for Finn. “Eat on the bridge?” He groaned, but I pulled him with me while he tried to manoeuvre some noodles into his mouth. A few minutes later I leaned against the railing with a sigh and looked down at the pitch black Hudson. Hundreds of lights were glistening on the heaving river below us, the bustle of the city a little softer in the evening breeze. In moments like these I still thought New York was beautiful. How the countless towers stood clear-cut against the sky. How everything flowed in an age-old choreography. There was something about the city that wouldn't let me go, that after all this time somehow still held promise. “Did you see?” I mumbled as I unwrapped my burrito. “Hae’s gonna be in Les Mis.” “Yeah. Good for her.” “Of course. We love to see a Chinese Fantine.” I took a bite and chewed carefully until I felt Finn’s eyes on me. “What?” “How much longer do you plan on doing this?” “Huh?” “Envying others and yet doing nothing about it?” I swallowed hard. “I’ve got a good job.” “And yet you’re still here, doing the whole ‘Just me and the GWB asking, ‘Gee, Julie, what’ll you be?’’” I couldn’t help but grin. “God, your singing is terrible.” “Yours isn’t.” “Stop.” “Not until you stop hiding in the shadows when you should be in the spotlight.” “God, you’re so dramatic.” My face fell at the seriousness in his gaze. “You’re not over it, Jules, you never will be.” “Well, I’ll have to be.” I rubbed my jaw as I stared back out onto the river. We finished our food in silence but my appetite had vanished.

“I’ll walk you home.” “You don’t have to.” I zipped up my coat and wound a scarf around my neck. The day’s heat was long forgotten and in my exhaustion I was freezing twice as hard. “You sure?” “It’s just a couple of streets, I’ll be fine.” Finn hugged me tightly. “Text me when you get there.” We parted ways and I put on my headphones but was met with an empty battery sound. Sighing, I shoved them back into my bag. The street I turned onto was deserted and I glanced at my watch. Almost midnight. A sudden shiver ran down my spine and I picked up the pace. But just as I passed a dark alley something in my periphery made me stop dead in my tracks. A sharp glint. Like metal. A muffled cry. A person crumbling to the ground. I was frozen to the spot, unable to turn my eyes from the horrific scene barely fifteen yards away. I had just witnessed a murder. An actual fucking murder. My heart was close to giving out, my entire body dipped in ice and fire. And then he looked up. His face was half-obscured from his hood but it burned itself into my retinas. Light, almost translucent skin, dark beard, a jagged scar across his cheek. Only when he moved towards me did my legs finally spring into action. I stumbled, almost fell, then started running like it was the last thing I’d ever do. Maybe it would be. His feet hit the concrete behind me. Close, too close. Pure, unbridled panic flooded my veins but I only pushed on harder. I refused to die like this. Not tonight. Not when my life had barely even begun. As I rounded the corner, the lights of a familiar bodega flashed from across the street and I almost sobbed in relief. A breath later I pushed through the door, screaming at the family cleaning up. “Ayúdame! Help me! Please, please!” “Qué pasa?” the mother gasped, subconsciously opening her arms and I flew into them, like she was my own mom and could still protect me from all the horrors of the world. “He’s following me. Un asesino.” “Asesino?” She actually wrapped her arms around me and I snivelled into her soft cardigan. “Félix, asegura la puerta!” Her son was already halfway to the door and I spun around, just catching the dark figure across the street. He stared at me for another second, then turned on his heel and vanished into the night. I collapsed onto the floor as the family surrounded me, trying to calm and interrogate me in a wild mix of English and Spanish. But all I could do was stare at the chipped tiles, silently rocking back and forth and feeling dead certain of two things: He would recognize me. And he would come to find me.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 2

MASTERLIST

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

this drabble was inspired by binnie’s outfit from the hello stranger vid and oh also! we are finally getting changbin’s thighs on this acct dedicated to them teehee

Part 1

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, past reader x han jisung  

Genre: smut n’ a lil fluff 

Tags: (for this part) softdom!changbin, sub!reader, undergroundrapper!changbin, chan, felix and jisung side characters, hook-up, scraping knees & mentions of blood, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), gagging, protected sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, orgasm denial and edging (f receiving), begging, fingering (f receiving), squirting, use of handcuffs, cockwarming at the end

Word count: 4.9k 

Chapters

PART 1 | PART 2 

gif creds to @iconicspearb​ ♡

2am, and you felt euphoric. Like a fucking cloud. Even though it was typical, there really were no other words that could describe it. Music was blasting on several speaks mounted to the walls and the ceiling. The bass was booming at such a low frequency you felt it reverberating in your chest--or maybe that was your heart. 

You had been shoved up against sweaty bodies for nearly four hours now, and your friends Chan and Felix hadn’t told you if they planned on leaving at any time soon. Not like you minded. Nothing felt better than a feeling like this. In a place like this, you could forget the rest of the world for a little bit; who you were and what you needed to do. The buzz in the room was infectious. Everyone in the room threw their bodies together, clashing in one big, beautiful mess. 

After four hours, you still wouldn’t get tired of it. Next to you, Chan and Felix were bouncing up and down with you, thrashing their heads to the rapid fire syllables spat by the rappers. Your ears would ring during every tiny moment of silence.  

“How much longer do you wanna stay for?!” Your scratched voice called to your friends. 

“SpearB hasn’t come on yet!! We have to see him!” 

“SpearB?!” 

The widest grin attacked Chan’s face, flashing his dimples. “Yeah! I heard that he’s insane!” 

Felix threw his arm over your shoulder to dance with him and the two of you fell into a rhythm, shouting over the lyrics of the rapper on stage: you had seen him dozens of times, Chan and him were even on a first name basis. 

You new his name too, but that was because you had plenty experience screaming it out for him...both at concerts and in private. Jisung was his name. He was the one that turned you on to fuck buddies. God, he was way too cocky for you to ever to consider anything else. 

He dished out out of his signature winks while he buried his teeth into his lip. 

You wondered if you would be going home with him again tonight. Not like you minded. The way that he would suck on your clit was unreal. 

“--THANK YOU FOR COMING OUT!” Jisung bellowed into the mic, leaping off some structure and launching himself into the air. 

You and your two friends cheered for him and clapped for him until your hands turned red. He was cocky...but he was sure as hell talented. 

“SpearB is coming next!!!” Felix shook your shoulders in his excitement. 

A couple stage hands changed around the stage a little bit by moving around a couple speakers, adding a smoke machine, setting out a new computer at the little table in center stage. 

“He-he’s gonna LIVE MIX ON THE STAGE” Chan’s eyes widened.

“He’s gonna what!?” There was almost nothing left of your voice. 

“JUST WAIT AND SEE.” 

The lights dimmed and Felix and Chan clung to your arms, nearly squeezing the life out of them.

If he was this of a big deal to them, he must be something special. 

He stepped out a black shadow, swirls of smoke at his feet. He hadn’t even said anything yet, but his aura was massive. The lights rose slightly so you could see his face better: smoky brown eyes, light brown hair that was nearly silver. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck, contrasting with the rest of his darkly colored clothes. Most of all, your eyes were drawn to his thighs, perfectly shaped and curved under his pants, toned and thick. On his fingers he wore bands of sliver rings. 

As soon as his fingers touched the keyboard, Chan and Felix lost their minds clawing at your arms. You had never seen the two of them so giddy. 

He didn’t even look at the audience at first, like they weren’t even there. With the tap of his fingers he started making a beat; it was piercing and catchy with snares and 808′s vibrating the room. He had a small keyboard next to him that he used, the silver glimmer from his rings reflected off the stage lights--they were nearly blinding. 

The crowd started moving to his beat which he sped up gradually creating a type of tension that you could only really describe like the mere seconds before a climax. 

He rose the mic to his mouth after licking his lips tantalizingly slow. He finally let himself look at the crowd. With the mic to his mouth, his eyes met yours, striking you with electricity. Even though his backing music was ridiculously fast, he sauntered to the front of the stage, not breaking with your gaze. This time you definitely knew it was your heart that was throbbing in your chest—not the music.

Chan and Felix were clawing onto you even harder, but you couldn’t feel a thing. 

He was fucking mesmerizing. 

He hadn’t even said a word. 

He crouched down to be eye level with you with his gaze still deathly fierce. Every single inch of him oozed with confidence and unbridled mystery. 

Almost like he was teasing you, he shot up and away, turning into his mic, his gruff voice growling over the start of his lyrics. 

He never looked at you again for the rest of the performance. You found yourself aching for his eyes on your body again, but he never gave it to you. 

No one had ever made you as soaked as he made you. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Aren’t you glad that we stayed, Y/n?” Chan nudged you hard once the three of you had left the club. 

The chill of the winter stung at the back of your sweaty neck wonderfully. It felt amazing compared to how stuffy it had been in there for the past several hours. 

“--how he looked at you?? Y/n, that was...” Felix laughed out a little in disbelief. 

You dig your hands further into your coat pockets. Just above you, tiny flakes of snow started to fall. You huffed out, your breath was wispy floating in the air. You were still getting over it all. How could he have looked at you like that and then pretended that you didn’t even exist? What kind of sick shit was that? 

Chan ran in front of you to skid on a patch of ice with child-like giggles. 

“You okay?” Felix asked, linking his arm through yours. He was always the best at reading you. 

“--yeah, it was just strange. There was something about him that...” 

“--I mean, he’s really hot. I’ll give him that.” 

You chuckled a little. “You think so too?” 

“I’d be blind if I didn’t think so.” 

“I don’t even know him...but why did he look at me like that...like he did?” 

“I dunno.” Felix shrugged. “We should catch up with Chan before he actually slips.” 

“Heh, you’re probably right.” 

“You just gonna head back home? It’s really late.” 

“Yeah, I’m super tired after all of that.” 

“Want one of us to walk you home?” 

You pondered for a minute, eyes cast up a little to the sky. The night had turned perfectly quiet during the early hours of the morning. Maybe a walk by yourself could do you some good. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for offering though.” 

“Text us when you get back?” Your friend gave your arm a little squeeze with a little worry dancing across his freckled cheeks. 

“Of course.” 

“Okay...don’t forget!” 

“I won’t!” You waved your friends away just as you reached the intersection separating your path from theirs. 

You sucked in a deep inhale, letting the cold air burn a little in your lungs. The sensation snapped you out of your yawn perfectly. It was just a few more blocks away and you knew the way well. Two rights, one left, two straight ahead. 

A blur started to cover your eyes and one more yawn escaped your lips. 

Or was it one right and two lefts? 

The street lights blurred into green and white lines. 

I should be there shouldn’t I? 

Behind you the horn honked, loud and shrill. 

You thought to yourself, what is someone doing honking so loud at night? 

“Watch out!!” A hand grabbed at your arm and jerked you back hard. 

You were definitely awake when your body crashed to the cement sidewalk knees first. A burning pain seethed at the skin of your knees. 

“Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard--” 

At first you saw your scraped knees, then you saw him...finally looking at you again. 

“What the hell are you doing walking into the middle of the street, didn’t you see the light?” 

“Are you fucking stalking me?” Was the first thing your brilliant brain could think to ask. 

He scoffed. “You’re welcome for saving your life? You were stumbling around... are you okay? Did you take something?” 

Before you knew it you were surrounded by him and his friends: inspecting you for any signs. 

“No, I am not on anything.” You hissed. “I just...I think that I’m tired an--wait...where are we?” 

“That tired huh?” He helped you to your feet, making you wince. “Shit, you’re bleeding.” His hand lingered on yours. 

“Oh. Yeah, it’s fine. Honestly it’s my own fault.” Your tone dropped. “I should have had one of them walk me home.” 

“--You need someone to walk you home?” 

“No, I got it, thanks. I’m just over that way.” You took two shaky steps forward, your knees immediately buckling in pain. 

“No-listen, my place is over there, I can help you get cleaned up--you’re not gonna find any taxis back to your place at this time of night.” 

“Are you luring me right now?” 

“What?! No!” 

You chuckled a little. It was a bit funny how different he was off stage compared to on. You almost forgot how embarrassingly soaked he had made you before. 

“Trust me.” He nodded to his friends and they split, leaving the two of you alone under the flurrying snow. “You coming?” 

You tentatively took his hand. Funny. This was kind of how it started with Jisung too. All of them were the fucking same. You pitied yourself for thinking that he would be any different. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Changbin, as he introduced himself, lived in a modest apartment with three roommates in a place with creaky floorboards and walls of painted over brick. He swore up and down that there was heating in there, but it didn’t feel like it. He kept very few things in his room save for some things that looked like synthesizers and a TV. The two of you had to tip-toe to his room. He warned you that nothing could be kept secret in that apartment. 

“Here, you should clean it first to get anything out of it. Then put this on it, you don’t wanna get infected or anything.” 

“oh. Thank you--” You reached out, but instead he knelt at the edge of the bed at your knees. He tore the whole in your tights even wider to start dabbing at your scratches. 

“Hey! What the--” 

“--They’re already torn. What’s the use in them now?” 

He got to work, being as careful as he could tending to you. His hands gently held your leg still. You watched as he did everything. Being this close again, you remembered. Those little silvery and wavy trellises of his hair...he really was gorgeous. 

Changbin’s hand smoothed down your calf once he was done, tickling you slightly. 

“All done. Better?” 

“Yeah...thank you.” You shied away. After seeing this other side of him you didn’t quite know what to think. 

“I’d love for you to stay but, seeing as you thought that I was luring you before--” 

“--Have I met you before?” 

“Me?” Changbin unclipped his earrings. “I don’t think so. But...that’s interesting. I was thinking the same thing earlier. There’s something about you that I recognize.” 

“--That’s why you looked at me like that?” 

“I looked at you like that, because I thought that you looked sexy.” 

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks. There was something especially hard to ignore about how gentle he had been with you before and how his eyes seemed to devour you now recalling the memory. It was...different. Maybe he wasn’t like all the rest of them. 

“I guess you must not think I still am if you’re trying to send me home.” You edged him on. It was undeniable how good it felt to have him give you his undivided attention. 

“I’m sending you home because it’s the respectful thing to do.” 

“That’s honorable.” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You want me to continue being respectful?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

Changbin paced the length of his room, cradling his neck up. “Stop playing fucking games and tell me what it is you want.” 

You thought that him performing was enough to send you over. Seeing him mad was something entirely different. You knew exactly what you wanted; what your body wanted.  

You narrowed your eyes. “Obviously. I want you.” 

You saw it in his eyes first. It was like the first spark of a flame right before he was set ablaze. All you had to do was say it. 

He tore his jacket off and launched himself on top of you, crashing his lips needily into yours. His mouth was addictive, perfectly soft, but running over yours roughly over and over. He kissed you, starving, breathing exhales into your mouth. He wasted no time meeting his tongue with yours, twisting around it slowly, forcing you to slow your pace. He gave you everything at once, then slowly started taking it away again. Changbin sucked on your bottom lip slightly, then pulled. He returned, kissing you again agonizingly slow. He let his hands cascade down your sides, sliding them up your shirt. Further down, he wedged his thigh between your legs, pressing in and issuing a little whimper from you. 

“I like to take things slowly...I hope you don’t mind.” He kissed down your jaw to your neck, taking care of the skin he craved here. He pressed harder with his leg. 

You cried out before grinding your hips into his thigh hopelessly seeking some kind of pleasure. When you did so, the friction of your clit was just enough. 

“So fucking needy.” His warm breath spilled into your ear. “You just can’t wait to have me, can you? Can’t wait to have me filling you up, fucking you deep inside, stretching you out...just like you want to?” He painted more kisses into your neck. “You’re not getting it yet. Not until I say so.” 

“Please...” You felt pathetic grinding on him so hard, but you couldn’t stop, not when it felt so good. 

“Awww.” He tutted. “Feels good doesn’t it?” 

“Mmmm...” You dug your fingers into his arms to pull yourself even closer to him.

He scoffed out a laugh and moved himself off of you. “Quit doing my job for me.” He smirked, then reached down to your legs where he coursed his hands up your inner thighs right where you were most delicate. His fingers reached your throbbing and drenched pussy properly wet through your panties from grinding on him. He ghosted over your clit, letting his fingers fall up and down just slightly, never giving you the satisfaction. Your whole body jerked just for him. Wordlessly, he tore a hole again with one continuous rip. 

“fuck. You’re so wet for me.” He wondered at your body. There he was, looking at you as he had done before. His thumb permitted you a couple soft circles to your clit as you helplessly grinded into his hand. His hands looked beautiful teasing your pussy with his silver rings.

“I’ve got something special I wanna use on you.” Changbin rubbed down harder with one hand and drew a pair of shiny metal handcuffs from his beside with the other. “Pretty right?” He twisted them around.

Seeing them instantly made your whole core cry out in desire for him even more. 

“Can I?”

You nodded quickly and even provided for him your wrists. As expected they bit with a cold, but how they made you feel...so helpless and usable was euphoric. Changbin rose your arms above your head, then removed the remains of your tights, skirt and underwear. By contrast, he was still completely clothed, but you could see his dick, hard and swelling with girth, pressing up against his pants. 

His hands explored all over your legs while you squirmed. The touch of his skin on yours was hypnotic. You had already felt his fingers, so you figured he wouldn’t let you feel them again soon. He drew little scribbles into your skin, sometimes pressing hard, grabbing at you in greedy handfuls. 

“You’re so gorgeous Y/n, so pretty for me, so pretty tied up and squirming. You’re such a good girl...I’m gonna make you cum harder than you can even imagine.”

Your little whimpers came out along with a string of explicatives while he teased at you relentlessly, still not going to touch your clit again. Your hands trashed together a little in the cuffs, the cold digging into you. You couldn’t do anything about it. Your hips writhed when his fingers traced up to your belly, then up to your nipples to pinch at them until they were painfully hard. Your whole body craved him so badly everywhere. 

“fuck--please stop, please--” you panted out, “touch me.” 

Back down again went his hands, and you watched as he devilishly smiled at his work. “I said, not until I say so.” Suddenly his fingers slid right into your pussy with ease. He had tricked you. You nearly screamed at the feeling if he had not slapped his hand over your mouth. “be fucking quiet.”

Changbin pumped in and out at his favored slow pace, curling his fingers up perfectly to rub at your g-spot. Your hands were still useless, so you bit down hard on your lip to keep your moans from escaping. 

“You like it this way don’t you? You’re taking my fingers so good, beautiful. Keep being a good girl and I’ll let you cum okay?”

“Mmm-yes, please.” Your words were breathy.

He moved on to fucking you with his fingers relentlessly. He would switch between pumping you full to then pulling out and robbing you of all feeling. As soon as he could sense your walls tightening, he would pull out, eyes greedily watching as you would fall apart from his edging. 

Your body betrayed you while you were being cruelly teased and your mind went blank as he brought you back and fourth each time. A tension deep down inside you built every time he would curl his fingers--any moment you knew that you could explode if he could only just let you. You even considered letting your hands fall to rub your needy clit yourself, but you had more than enough of punishing. 

“You’re doing so well.” Changbin soothed you at last. “Do you wanna cum for me?” 

“Yes.” You sighed out with utter exhaustion. 

“Alright. You deserve it.” He kissed into the skin right under your bellybutton where your shirt had tucked up a little. 

Finally he rammed his thumb against your clit to give it simulation as he continued fucking into you with his fingers, giving careful attention to your sensitive bud as he wiggled his fingers with speed. The metal on his fingers grazed you too inside, and you felt yourself tightening around him once again. That same tension gathered low and it was so intense and unfamiliar that it scared you. Your back arched as you felt it getting closer..closer...

You cried out, “Changbin, I--” 

“Just let it all go, babygirl.” He spread out your legs farther. 

You came with such ferocity that you felt lightheaded: you squirted hard with your release. It took every ounce of your will not to make a sound, only letting shallow gasps escape. Changbin removed his fingers as you came, rubbing your clit as you did, giving it a couple slaps where it was swollen. Tears fell down the sides of your face as your whole body shook with each release and your hips buckled together. 

Changbin laughed out in awe at the shaking mess in front of him. You felt your whole body flush with heat, and you couldn’t bear to look at him--you had never done anything like that before in your whole life. In fact you didn’t really know what it was. You hid your flustered face under your arms. 

“Fuck, that was so fucking hot.” You heard him chuckle. “Why are you hiding? Hey, come back--” 

He jingled with the keys and let your wrists free, which were also throbbing with a bit of pain. He kissed both of them one after the other. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let yourself look at him and you noticed that his shirt was splattered wet from droplets of your liquids. 

“Fuck--I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was--” 

He laughed softly then crawled over you again. His hands ran up and down your body still in aftershocks. “You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed his lips into yours. “I’m guessing that was your first time squirting, huh?” 

“I-I think so.” 

“Did it feel good?” 

“It felt...so good.” 

“I fulfilled my promise then didn’t I?” He caressed the sides of your face to give you even more careful kisses; they weren’t needy anymore, but this time more caring and passionate. Hell, he didn’t even know you but he kissed you like he loved you. 

“You want me to do you now?” 

“Not yet, you’re still coming down, I don’t wanna ruin this for you.” 

“ ‘Kay.” This time you were the one to lean in to keep kissing him. His lips curled into a smile against yours. 

Changbin unbuttoned your cropped shirt, then took off his all of his clothes after. He laid down next to you, both of you completely bare and the warmth of his mouth found yours once again. Maybe it was just because you had just cum because of him, but the sense of closeness that you felt to him made you feel impossibly safe. You could have kissed him like this forever. 

“You’re perfect.” He whispered onto your lips between kisses. 

You slung one of your legs over his hips and his member twitched on your stomach. You had come down enough. 

“My turn now?” 

“I wouldn’t object to that.” He grinned. 

The bed sheets crinkled a little as you descended farther down the bed and he sat his back against the wall. You got your first proper chance to look at his full length: veiny and perfectly thick, dripping just a little with pre-cum. You could only imagine what it would feel like inside you. Changbin’s eyes followed as you wrapped your hand around him and teased the tip with your pointer finger. You licked fat strokes up and down the sides, feeling him hardening even more. The saliva gathered in your mouth seeing the head grow redder and redder. His chest shook with a broken sigh. You gave him one teasing squeeze that made him wince beautifully. 

“Keep going.” He commanded, raking his fingers through your hair and gripping there. 

“I don't need you to tell me that.” You hushed and flicked the tip of your tongue over his tip. 

After he got to do all of his teasing, how come you didn’t get to do some too? 

“Don’t make me make you.” He growled. 

“Ooo scary.” 

Your hand began to pump him and he relaxed, exhaling out with the trailing of his voice hiding his soft moans. Your free hand dug into the skin of his thigh, letting the sharp of your nails pepper little pink crescents. They were so perfect, you rewarded them with kisses and little bites while your hand kept pumping. Changbin’s fingers dug into your scalp needily. 

He hissed out, “Give me your mouth.” 

A surge of confidence swelled within you knowing he was completely in your control. “You aren’t even going to say please?” 

“I don’t say please.” 

“Then maybe I won’t suck you off then?” 

A flash of betrayal ran across his smoky eyes. “What?!” 

“Fine. I won’t make you say it.” You smirked and took him in generously, deeply, pushing down your tongue and taking him down your throat. You were just a little too ambitious: his length made you gag, but you swallowed down the reflex. Changbin’s head fell back and hit the wall. 

“fuck yes.” The words escaped his tongue. 

You grabbed at him and squeezed, hard, twisting him and flicking your wrist with each turn. He was delightfully hard in your mouth, and with each step closer he gasped out faster and faster. Your head bopped in your rhythm, still taking him in deeper with each move, chasing gags away just as fast as you got a new one. You would stop for a few seconds to let him quiver in your hand and he would groan out once your warmth disappeared. 

“Not-not yet,” He gasped out and squirmed, then pushed you lightly off of him. He scrambled over to the beside again, throwing the drawer open and finding a condom which he tore open with his teeth, then impatiently rolled it over his pink length. He threw his body off the bed, grabbing at your hips to align you with the edge of the bed and situating himself between your legs. He was just as impatient when he took some lube into his hand to rub over his dick curled against his stomach. Changbin coaxed his dick into your opening, leaning down over your body with forearms resting on both sides of your head. Once the two of you were connected, you both let out sighs with the feeling consuming you. He filled you up so wholly, so deeply, it even hurt just a little bit, kind of like the first time. 

“Baby you’re so tight.” He thrust in slow at first, exactly how he liked it. It felt fucking amazing when he stretched you out grinding his hips even in little to let your clit feel the sensation as well. He attached his lips with yours to lend them his warmth. Your arms latched around his neck and your legs around his waist as you pulled him in even closer. The heat from his sweating chest emanated on you. He started to pick up his pace, giving your g-spot attention again as he angled himself above you. 

The two of you sucked in each other’s air as it lasted between your lips for only a few seconds. You moaned directly into his mouth hoping that it was enough to muffle the sound and he returned back with his own arousal spilling all over you and sticking on your tongue. 

Changbin pulled away to shove your legs together and press against his torso, making you even tighter. He shut his eyes upon feeling it, focusing on nothing else but his thrusts. His forehead gathered with little beads of sweat and one fell down his brow. 

His name flew off of your mouth naturally as he fucked into you, and your second orgasm pooled. His toned arms flexed from where he grabbed onto the bed and he choked out little airy gasps before announcing that he was about to cum. 

“Cum inside me baby, fill me up...I’m all yours.” 

Upon hearing your words, he set himself loose, pounding into you with astonishing speed doubling over you as he came, leaving himself inside to throb against your walls. There was something so primal inside of you that craved to feel his cum inside of you knowing that he wanted you, that he desired you and that you could unscrew him until he was vulnerable like this, all for you. 

“Can we...stay like this for a little while?” 

He chuckled a bit, and swept a few strands of your hair off of your face. 

“You like how it feels like this then?” 

“...yes.” 

“Okay beautiful. Anything that you like, can I come back up first? Kinda hard to do it like this.” 

You nodded and let himself get situated sitting on the bed, resting himself against the wall once more. Your bodies shivered as you sat back down on his softening dick, but it was the feeling of being connected to him that you craved. He traced his fingers up and down your back, his eyes full of admiration. 

“You’re perfect.” He echoed. 

“You hardly even know me.” Your fingers twirled his curly hair. 

“You’re perfect.” 

“Thank you...and...thank you for making me feel so good.” 

“My pleasure,” He laughed out the words, “And yours too I guess.” 

“Very funny.” 

There he was, looking at you again like that. Like he loved you. He didn’t even know you. He didn’t know that things you had done; who you were. 

“I’d like to get to know you though. If you’ll let me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

AHHHH so writing this I kinda fell in love with the potential for this plot, esp with the stuff with the readers history with Jisung???? SHould I make this a series???? Softdom!bin romancing us?? Let me knowwwww

[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter Three]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Part Summary: After Spencer asks Y/N our for coffee, the two share about their unlucky love lives.

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of maeve, mentions of surgery

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***

CHAPTER THREE: CASE CLOSED

In the days following since Spencer showed up at Y/N’s apartment, she had been quite lonely. Harper’s school had started back up so she was gone the majority of the day leaving the house in silence. The constant giggles of her daughter were absent for six of the twenty four hours. Of course, Y/N took this as an opportunity to finish a commission she had been working on these last few weeks. The smell of paint was evident in the air causing Y/N to open all the windows around her. Y/N enjoyed painting very much but she missed the smaller version of her by her side, questioning everything she did and copying it to her best ability. 

The slip of paper that Spencer’s phone number was written on was sitting not too far away from Y/N and she would find herself occasionally glancing over to it. She did want to call Spencer but she didn’t want to seem too eager, and besides, he was working a case, there was no way he had the time for her. 

Seeing Spencer again wasn’t exactly on Y/N’s bucket list. Ever since she moved back six months ago, she hadn’t run into him once and he never even crossed her mind. However, once she saw him just days ago, she thought about him at least once a day. None of the thoughts were exactly bad, she just wondered if he had a family. If he was still interested in the same thing he was thirteen years ago. If he was the same Spencer she loved thirteen years ago. Shaking her head clear of any thoughts of Spencer, Y/N continued to paint the canvas that stood in front of her while softly singing along to the music that drowned out the silence. 

Y/N had only been painting for what she guess was another fifteen minutes before her phone started to ring from across the room. Groaning, as she had just gotten into a rhythm of painting, she walked over and looked at the caller ID. The number didn’t have a name but she recognised it - it was Spencer’s number. 

“Hello?” Y/N answered. 

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Spencer.” 

“Spencer, hi. What’s up?” 

“I was just calling because we caught the guy who abducted Ava.” Spencer said. 

“That’s good. Is she okay?” Y/N questioned quickly.

Spencer paused, “She’s alive, she’s in hospital currently. If we didn’t get to her in time there was a chance that she wouldn’t make it.” 

“But she is alive.” Y/N clarified.

“Yes, and the doctors say that she will make a recovery.”

“Thank god.” Y/N said, placing her hand over her heart. 

“You okay?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad that Ava is okay.” Y/N replied. 

“We all are.” Spencer responded. 

The two fell into a long silence, normally if this happened someone would hang up however neither of them did. Y/N wanted to say something but she didn’t know what to say. She did want to continue speaking to Spencer but she didn’t exactly know how to approach the topic. Luckily she didn’t have to say anything. 

“Do you want to go and get coffee, um, with me?” Spencer asked.

“Um, sure, when?” Y/N asked, suddenly feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“Now? Only if you’re not doing anything, if you are we could always reschedule and have coffee another time.” Spencer rambled.

Y/N couldn’t help but let a small smile appear on her face, “Coffee sounds great Spencer, text me where.”

“Okay, okay, I will, I’ll see you soon Y/N.” Spencer replied, suddenly sounding perkier.

“See you soon.” Y/N responded before hanging up 

***

As Y/N stepped through the doors to the cafe, she immediately looked around for Spencer. She found him sitting at the back corner of the cafe. As their eyes met, a wide smile spread across Spencer’s face as Y/N began to walk over. When she was finally standing at the table Spencer’s gaze didn’t move from Y/N for a second. 

“Hi.” Y/N greeted with a smile. 

“Hi.” Spencer responded, his smile that Y/N could recognise anywhere still evident on his face. 

Y/N sat in the seat across from Spencer and got comfortable. Once she looked down she noticed that there were two cups of coffee on the table.

“I don’t know if you still like your coffee like that but if you don’t I can always get you another cup.” Spencer said nervously.

Y/N smiled, touched at the simple action, “You still remember my order?”

Spencer felt his face heat up slightly, “Yeah, I do.”

Y/N smiled at him, causing Spencer to clear his throat, “So how have you been?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I’ve been good,” Y/N responded, “I’ve been settling in since I moved back here six months ago from England. Normally I would settle in quicker but Harper took a little longer to adjust.” 

“Why did you move back?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I loved living in England but being away from my family and friends was always hard and I couldn’t exactly afford to keep coming back and I couldn’t keep taking Harper out of school to have a small holiday to visit her family. I wanted her to get to know them in person not just through a screen,” Y/N explained, “Harper has loved being around her family since we moved.”

“She seems great,” Spencer said, “Harper that is.”

Y/N smiled at the thought of her daughter, “She is. Harper is the greatest thing to ever happen to me, I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“How old is she?” Spencer asked, genuinely interested.

“Seven, she’s eight in a couple weeks,” Y/N said, “I can’t help but feel a little sad about it. Like I know she’s going to grow up but these years seem to have flown by. I feel like it was only a week ago she learnt how to walk, now she’s practically running everywhere,” Y/N was lost in thought for a quick moment before she snapped herself out of it, “Anyway, that’s enough about me for now, how’s the FBI been treating you?”

“It’s been treating me fine.” Spencer said, the grin on his face faltering.

Y/N narrowed her eyes momentarily, “Are you sure? I may not be a profiler Spencer but I can tell that you’ve been through a lot,” Y/N said as Spencer made eye contact, “You wanna know how I know that?” Spencer nodded slightly, “It’s your eyes, they used to be so innocent, now they’re filled with sadness.”

Spencer cleared his throat, breaking eye contact, “I, um, I’ve seen a lot and I’ve been through a lot.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through,” Y/N said sympathetically, “Thirteen years working for the FBI. I can’t even wrap my head around how long it’s been.”

“Me neither,” Spencer agreed, “You have a sadness in your eyes too.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N questioned.

“You have sadness in your eyes too,” Spencer repeated, “The only time it disappeared was when you were talking about Harper.”

Before Y/N could stop herself, she nodded her head, confirming Spencer’s comment, “I do. For the last eight years everyone has commented on it - around this time of year too.”

Spencer could tell that Y/N was abou to tell him why she felt the way she did but he was quick to interrupt her, “You don’t need to tell me Y/N.”

“No, it’s fine, seriously, practically everyone knows,” Y/N said before taking a deep breath, “My husband and Harper’s father, Owen, well he was in an accident and had to have surgery. We were told that there was a seventy-five percent chance the surgery would be successful. It was successful for the most part, he was like himself, always around Harper, playing with her.” 

Y/N found herself smiling at the memory of Harper playing with her father, “However, after a couple of weeks, he began to find himself getting more tired than usual. He just thought that it was the stress of work but he began to get worse to the point that he couldn’t get out of bed without him being in constant pain.” Y/N stopped her story for a moment, she never had a problem explaining this story before, but being the time of year it was, she was having a hard time.

“He was on so much medication just so he could actually walk around. Both of us knew that he didn’t have long left. I never wanted to make peace with that, I kept denying the inevitable saying that he was going to get better and we would be the happy family I always wanted. Deep down I knew that would never happen but I couldn’t help but lie to myself,” Y/N took a deep breath, by now her eyes were glossy with tears. 

“The one thing Owen wanted was to make it to Harper’s first birthday,” Y/N said, “He died four days before.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Spencer said sincerely, he contemplated reaching across the table to take her hand and give her a bit of comfort but thought better of it. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, “Normally when I tell people about Owen, I don’t normally get this upset about it, at least I don’t anymore. But since it’s coming up to the anniversary of his death, I guess I just can’t help myself from feeling this way. Sorry for dumping all of that on you, I don’t know why I did it.”

“Y/N, it’s fine, seriously.” Spencer said. 

Y/N gave Spencer a tight lipped smile, “So what about you Spencer Reid, do you have a family?”

Spencer shook his head, “If you mean an actual family as in a wife and kids, I don’t.”

“Why’s that? Do you ever want a family?” Y/N asked.

Spencer nodded, “I’d like nothing more in the world,” He said, “You don’t mind if I talk about something personal do you?”

“I mean I just did so I’m sure it’s perfectly reasonable for you to share too.” Y/N said.

Spencer cleared his throat before speaking, “Well a few years ago I had a girlfriend, Maeve. She was being stalked so we only communicated through phone calls,” Spencer began to explain, “We never saw each other but I fell in love with her. The only time I saw her was when she was killed in front of me by her stalker,” Spencer paused, “I thought that when we could eventually see each other then we could start a family, get married, have kids. Of course that could never happen but I could only think of what would’ve been.”

“I’m sorry Spence,” Y/N said, unconsciously reaching across the table and gently placed her hand on top of his. Neither Y/N nor Spencer thought any different of it and Spencer squeezed her hand as a silent thank you. 

“I haven’t really felt a connection to anyone after Maeve, not enough to fall in love with.” Spencer said.

Y/N nodded in agreement, “Ever since Owen died, I haven’t really had a long term relationship, none of them lasted more than a few months at most. Some of them just thought of it as a fling, some of them couldn’t handle the responsibility of being a parent and some of them were scared off by the thought of me being a mother.”

“You’ll find the right person eventually.” Spencer said.

“And you will too Spencer, and you’ll get to start your family.” Y/N said, offering a small smile to which Spencer returned with one of his own.

Looking down at her phone, Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, “Is that the time? I’ve got to go now, I need to pick Harper up from school.”

“Of course.” Spencer said, removing his hand from Isla’s after he had noticed that they were still connected. 

Y/N stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder before turning back to Spencer, “This was fun, we should do it again soon but I’m buying the coffee next time.”

Spencer let out a quiet chuckle, “That’s only if you’re here before me.”

“Oh I will be,” Y/N said, “I’ll see you soon Spence.”

Y/N gave him a parting smile before turning and walking out the cafe to go and pick up her daughter.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@spenxerslut @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur @happymangospot @beepbooptoop @ilovespencerreidmarryme @spencesoulmate25 @bloodyxheaven @nyx2021 @morganwilliams @malindacath @pastelbabygirl19 @doctorspenceryeet @reidsbookclub @pinkdiamond1016 (will be continued in reblog)

SERIES TAGLIST

(Will be added in reblog)

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴅ ⓟⓐⓡⓣ ①

______________________

ғʀᴀᴛʙᴏʏ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sʜʏ-ɪsʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴜ 

(ɪɴᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (two part series!) You’re starting to struggle in class and decide to ask your professor for some tutoring or extra classes to boost your  grade. He ends up assigning the last person you’d expect to tutor you. (is it really a surprise though?)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none in this chapter ;)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟸.𝟸ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅs (sᴏʀʀʏ ɪᴛ’s ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ)

______________________

You stare at your work for what seems like hours before deciding to glance at the clock only to find it’s been 20 mins. This subject was never your strong suit but in order to earn your desired degree, you had to take this class. You’d been putting it off for some time but it’s just better to get it over with then struggle right before graduation. So here you are sitting and staring at the work that just doesn’t seem to make sense. 

By the time your professor released the class for the day, you’d barely even lifted your pen from the table.

“Y/n, could I speak to you for a minute?” your professor said, “James, if you could stay as well.”

“What’s up, professor?” Bucky flashed a cheeky smile. The bastard has always been charming since you saw him and especially taking a couple classes with him too. A huge player too of course. I mean what’s a frat boy without getting laid after every party they throw.

“Lemme speak to you first,” he gestured to you, “how is the assignment going?”

You were a bit embarrassed to admit that you were struggling a lot especially in front of Bucky. He’s actually a pretty nice person but not really being a super social one yourself, he tends to intimidate you along with the rest of his friends more than you’d like to admit.

“Well if I’m being honest, I can’t seem to grasp onto the material. I’m really trying but I just can’t,” you practically whispered.

You didn’t want to but you took a quick glance at Bucky to see what he was probably thinking but thankfully he was on his phone; probably giving you as much privacy as he could. 

“Well is there anything you like me to do to help in understanding the material? Maybe a tutor?”

“Yes, that would probably be beneficial,” you chuckled.

“Perfect, because James here is one the best students I’ve had,” ok kinda backhanded. 

Bucky’s head shot up when he heard his name and quickly put his phone away averted his attention to the professor. 

“Right James?”

“Hmm?” 

“James here has a  97% in the class. He’s got the highest grade of all my classes,” the professor seemed like a proud father to him. Bucky merely just shook his head, getting really shy almost. Bucky, shy? Weird. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” he murmured.

“Nope, 100% true. Your teachers and I talk a lot about you. You’re very gifted, James,” James looked at you completely embarrassed. You stood with wide eyes because you didn’t think frat boys actually took their studies seriously. They’re usually up late with all the parties they throw every weekend and some of them are so indulged into their sports that they probably didn’t have time to get A’s in their classes. 

“So what do you say, Y/n? Willing to let him tutor you?”

“I mean if he has time and wants to, I’d be very appreciative of it.”

“Yeah I guess I can,” he smiled.

“Thank you, and thank you too, Professor.”

“Looking forward to that assignment, Y/n. Now scram, kids.”

“Hey thanks for-”

“You can’t tell anyone that I'm tutoring you,” he cut you off, not in a mean way, just panicked.

“Oh ok.”

“I mean it. Look it was already hard getting into the frat house and now being head of house, it’ll be embarrassing if they found out I’m a nerd.”

“What’s so bad about being a nerd?”

“I don’t know. It’s like an unspoken rule I guess.”

“What a nerd,” you joked.

“Whatever,” he chuckled, “So your place or mine?” 

“Huh?” you questioned.

“For tutoring? Do you want me to come over?”

“Oh I thought we would do that in the library or something,” you responded.

“I mean we can, I just didn’t know what time and the library closes pretty early.”

“You can come over. I’ll ask my roommate if it’s ok.”

“Ok, let me get your number so we can coordinate.”

“Ok, thanks again, Tom.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he smiled back.

+++

“Girl what are you getting yourself into?” your roommate, Natasha questioned.

“What do you mean?” 

“Buck is gonna tutor you? I’m pretty sure he knows jack shit about what is going on in that class.” Right, no one knows he’s practically a genius. 

“I don’t know. My professor said he could help me so I’m gonna give it a shot. He can’t stupider than me, especially with this subject.”

“Ok,” she mocked.

“But if he tries anything let me know,” she warned.

“Why would he try anything?” you asked, confused about the sudden subject change. 

“Y/n, Bucky is a huge player. He’s hooked up with like more than half the girls in the sorority houses. Hell, even I hooked up with him.”

“Oh my god, what!”

“It was last year when I was in a house. I hated it so I moved out this year. Still friends with Wanda though. You’d like her.”

“Ok well I don’t think he will, I mean look at me.”

“What?”

You hesitated because you weren’t the most confident person. There was nothing wrong with you but there also wasn’t anything special. You were barely a social person let alone some who could easily pursue a relationship or even a hook up. 

“I think you’re hot, but something tells me you think otherwise,” Nat said.

“I don’t wanna get into it but just know you won’t have to worry about anything happening.”

You texted Bucky that he could come over whenever he was available and about 30 mins later he was knocking on your door ready to help you with the assignment.

+++

Obviously nothing happened that night, or the night after, or the night after. Or the next four weeks after. Bucky was actually helping you understand the material a lot better. You were still a bit confused but not as much as before. During your sessions you were beginning to learn a lot more things about Bucky like how his childhood best friend Steve Rogers was also a member in the house; and also knows about his prodigy brain. 

“How’s the tutoring going?” Steve asked walking into the kitchen where you and Bucky were doing work.  

“Good I guess,” you responded.

“Well I’ll uh, leave you two be.”

He didn’t in fact  leave but instead start gesturing quite aggressively to ask you more questions to get to know you better. See what you didn’t know was that Bucky had taken even more of a liking to you since starting  your study sessions together. He never pursued anything because he didn’t want to scare you and definitely didn’t want you to think that he was taking advantage of the situation you guys were in; you know being your tutor and all.

Sure Bucky was kind of  a player but the rumors of sleeping with another girl at every party every weekend wasn’t totally true. He hooked up with a couple girls but he wasn’t a sex addict. And he definitely didn’t leave them high and dry. He would usually meet up with the girls but they didn’t seem to want anything more than a one night stand. 

He sort of gave up on finding a relationship and soon after altogether stopped having sex, especially at their parties the boys host every weekend. He definitely wasn’t waiting until marriage but he didn’t want to feel used anymore because that was seemingly the case after each ‘hook-up’ that happened. 

When Bucky first saw you in class, he truly thought you the most beautiful girl ever. He quickly caught on to the fact that you were not a social person; you weren’t exactly shy but definitely didn’t initiate conversation. You always kept to yourself in the back of each classroom and quietly did your work. Bucky goddamn fell head over heels for you. 

But you two never talked.

Every chance he got to initiate some sort of conversation was quickly taken away whether it’d be the end of class time where you’d briskly leave the classroom to attend your next lecture, or the boys in his house would meet up with him completely interfering with his window to talk to you. And it’s not like you ever went to any of the frat parties. 

So he continued to chase you all the while having absolutely no idea one of the most well known and well liked frat boys at the university having this massive giant enormous fat crush on you. And to top it off, now that he’s certainly got all the time in the world to finally get to know you, he freezes up and can only seem to answer your questions… about school.

You didn’t take Bucky to be such an awkward guy. You definitely didn’t think with all the girls that are constantly after him and how charismatic he seemed he would actually be super quiet awkward after the initial ‘Hey, what’s up!’.

You grew a liking to him though because he wasn’t annoying. The majority of guys in the house were pretty loud and obnoxious whenever you got the chance to hear them usually while you were studying in Bucky’s room because again, no one really knew how much of a nerd he really was. But you never actually met the rest of the boys. You’d always managed to sneak out to avoid confrontation about why you're even there. 

Speaking of loud and obnoxious frat boys.

“Hey hey hey!” they walked in.

Immediately you and Bucky grabbed all the papers and threw them in your backpack while Steve went out to hopefully stall the boys from coming into the kitchen like they always did after football practice. 

As soon as the last paper went inside your bag, the boys walked past Steve into the kitchen to find you and Bucky standing there awkwardly.

“Who’s this?” Tony asked.

“This is a girl in my class, Y/n.”

“Whatcha doing here?”

“She’s tutoring me,” Bucky quickly lied. Ironically. 

“Oh man, dude,” one of the boys laughed.

“Well we’ll be out of your hair. Good luck, Bucky and don’t annoy her.”

“We’ll be in my room studying you guys are fine,” Bucky grabbed your arm and took upstairs to his room.

“So they’re fine with you being tutored but not tutoring?” you asked in a mocking tone.

“It’s a weird rule but also a lot of the guys downstairs get tutored too. Like Vis, and Thor, oh Thor. Loki does too and Steve. But if I’m being honest, I  do in fact think Bruce and Tony are science nerds. But Tony sleeps around enough to distract from it, not Bruce so much but he’s pretty quiet.”

“Ugh, boys.”

“Anyways, shall we continue?” he chuckled.

“I guess, yeah.”

After about an hour in his room, you ended up leaning out of studying and more into talking and getting to know each other; properly this time. 

“And yeah, that’s how my sister’s pants exploded.”

“That’s hilarious.”

There was a moment of silence between you two before it got too awkward and you spoke out.

“I should probably get going.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“I can call a cab. It’s fi-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, “I’ll drive you. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yeah. It’s totally fine.”

You told Bucky your address to your apartment and remained in silence during the majority of the car ride.

“You know I never striked you as a quiet person,” you broke the silence.

“What? I’m not a quiet person.”

“Yes you are. Everytime we have a study session it’s usually silent until I have to ask you a question about something.”

“Well, it’s not my intention to be so awkward around you.”

“Why are you?” you asked him.

“I don’t know,” then it got quiet again.

You arrived at your apartment and unclicked your seatbelt. You turned to Bucky to say goodbye and realized how close you two were. Admittedly you didn’t mind too much; what you didn’t expect was for Bucky to in fact kiss you. He grabbed your arm gently and pulled closer to him as his eyes closed, lips moving against yours slowly. You weren’t exactly mad but you weren’t also happy with this outcome. 

Despite Bucky not hooking up with anyone for a long time now and being completely enamored by you, you still believe he was a ladies man because he hadn’t told you otherwise. You didn’t want to be another name added to the list of a frat boy’s one night stands. So you pulled away with slightly furrowed brows and Bucky realized he fucked up. 

“Thanks again, Bucky,” you quickly got out of the car, not acknowledging him shouting your name before the car door closed. You ran up the steps to enter your apartment as fast as you can, still feeling the taste of him on your lips and tongue. God why did he have to do that?

Bucky sat in his car for a bit but decided to leave to not bother you and possibly fuck things up more than they already are. He’ll wait for you to come to him so he doesn’t seem invasive. Yeah that’s the plan.

But things don’t normally go to plan right?

[probably-haven]

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

-

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

-

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

-

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fxf smut, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!bee, shibari/bondage, sex swing, fingering, safewording situation, aftercare, exhibition, voyeurism

A/N: chapters may not come every week, but i am continuing to post them now xx i appreciate your patience

DAY TWENTY-TWO

Normally, getting a text at ass o’clock in the morning would annoy Hoseok. Normally, he’d deny the offer to get out of the warmth of his bed and go down and have ‘a chat’ with someone at ass o’clock in the morning -

But then again, his bed is a little too warm with an extra body in it. Perhaps going downstairs is the better option. He rolls over gingerly, glaring at the man in bed beside him, separated by a wall of spare pillows. His blue hair doesn’t seem as harsh in the dim pre-dawn light, and his lips are plumper than ever, slightly pouted in his sleep. He looks peaceful, no lines on his face even though he’d gone to bed wearing makeup. One tiny hand rests propped underneath his face, making his cheek bulge, and the other clutches intermittently at the duvet, like he’s caught up in a dream. Park Jimin looks so content and angelic in his sleep. Hoseok narrows his eyes. Little shit.

It’s easy enough to get dressed and ready without disturbing the sleeping demon. Well - truthfully, he’s just shrugged on a hoodie over his sleep shirt and sweatpants to make them look less like pyjamas, but still.

By the time he gets downstairs, grimacing at the sharp lights of the kitchen, Namjoon is practically chewing a hole through the lid of a plastic bottle, gnawing at it with eyes rounded with worry.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Hoseok rushes forward, gently tugging the half-empty bottle out from between the younger man’s teeth, giving him a soft but reproachful look. “What’s going on, buddy?”

Namjoon startles with the sudden motion, eyes blinking slowly in a way that speaks to a lack of sleep the night before. “Oh good, you came,” he mutters absentmindedly, “I’m kinda freaking out.”

Hoseok’s brow pinches with concern. “I did notice that. You seemed pretty carefree yesterday; what’s changed?”

The academic bites his lip. “Sunmi was talking to me. Did you know basically everyone else is in a relationship?”

Whatever Hoseok was anticipating, it certainly wasn’t that. “Huh?”

Namjoon nods, frantic. “Y/n got together with Jimin and Tae, but now they’re kind of not? - I don’t know, Sunmi wasn’t that bothered about the details - and then Yoongi and Jin had their thing, obviously, but now Jungkook has a thing with Yoongi, and Tae and Jungkook have been fooling around too, and it’s like we’re the only ones left out. I didn’t even realise it, but we’re the leftovers, Hobi-hyung.”

Even as that comment sends a dagger right through him, Hoseok keeps his face neutral. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Namjoon. Nobody’s trying to leave us out.”

“I know that,” Namjoon replies quickly, an earnest nod, “it’s just that- Well, I want that, Hobi-hyung. I want to sneak around, I want to hold hands, I want to feel what it’s like. It’s not that I’m annoyed at the others, it’s just… it’s highlighted yet another area that I’m a total virgin in. I’m sick of always feeling behind on these things. I’m sick of it never being me.”

Hoseok swallows, reaching around to pat Namjoon on the back in what he hopes his a comforting gesture. This wasn’t as straightforward as aftercare; Namjoon was seriously hurting. “Listen, Joon, if you want to get into a relationship of any sort with them, you need to talk to them directly-”

“But I don’t,” the academic cuts off, looking more vulnerable than ever. In plaid pyjamas and round glasses with lenses thicker than the frames, hair still mussed up from restlessness, he looks totally lost. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. It’s like… I wouldn’t write an essay and hand it in straight away, you know? I’d write an outline, and then a draft, and I’d use the draft to make edits and write a second draft, and eventually I’d write the final product and submit it. Do you get it?”

Hoseok presses his lips together. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Namjoon bites down hard on his lip, making the flesh go white, and bloom red when he lets go to speak. “Hobi-hyung,” he begins slowly, “are you interested in any of the people here romantically? Are you wanting to get into a relationship like that?”

Fear shoots through Hoseok instinctively, but it’s soothed by the reassurance, it’s Namjoon. He can be honest with Namjoon. “No,” he admits, waiting for his face to fall.

Instead, the opposite happens. Namjoon’s brows smoothen with visible relief. “I want you to be my first draft, hyung.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “Now would be a great time for you to explain the metaphor, Joonie.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath and slips off his glasses, blinking owlishly like being a little blind is preferable before he speaks. “I want to pretend to date you, just for a bit. Just to see what it’s like. It can be a trial run, we’ll stop whenever we want. But you’re the only one in this house I trust like that.” He pauses, fingers twitching where they rest clasped in his lap. “Feel free to say no, though.”

Perhaps Hoseok’s mind is a little slow from waking up, but he barely comprehends the implications of what Namjoon is telling him. “You felt left out when the others were trying to have secret relationships or sneak around the rest of us… so you want to… pretend to do that?”

“Well- no, we wouldn’t have to hide it,” Namjoon says slowly, fingers reaching for the water bottle. Hoseok lets him have it, but watches out to make sure he doesn’t begin gnawing on the lid again. “I just think it would be nice to be the one doing couple stuff for once, don’t you think?”

Upon hearing these words, Hoseok begins to feel his very bones shake. It’s the uncontrollable trembling that seems to pass over him every time he gets close to breaking the seal - close to coming out. As always, he has a choice. It only takes one more look at the openness on Namjoon’s face to decide. “Joonie, I’m aromantic.”

Namjoon sucks in a silent breath of surprise. “Huh? Really?”

Now that it’s out there, the silence feels so much more deafening. “Yeah.” He doesn’t know what to say. Should he explain himself, apologise, give excuses-?

“That doesn’t change my opinion of you, you know that, right?”

Hoseok blinks. Namjoon seems more awake now, more alert and calm. “I- What do you mean?”

“You’re my best friend on this show,” Namjoon admits shyly, “you’ve taught me a lot, and I feel so safe with you. I didn’t come to you because I thought you’d want to actually date, so please don’t think I’m going to feel disappointed. It’s really special that you felt comfortable enough to- oof!”

Before Namjoon finishes, Hoseok is barrelling him over in a tight hug. Namjoon’s arms bracket around him, and the dom could just about purr with the warm fuzzy happiness that bubbles in his chest. “Oh, Joonie! You’re my best friend here too!”

Namjoon hugs him tighter now. “I’m so glad, hyung,” he murmurs softly.

Not wanting to leave this embrace, Hoseok lets his eyes slip closed and rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “I think fake-dating sounds kinda fun, by the way. We can take the b out of bromance. I wanna see how the others react.”

Just as the breathy sound of Namjoon’s gleeful laughter light his ears, a darker, more bemused chuckle drowns it out.

“Fake dating, huh?” a voice drawls, causing the two of them to jump apart like they’d been stung. “As if things couldn’t get any cheesier around here.”

Namjoon rubs his eyes, looking even more disheveled than when Hoseok first saw him. “Yoongi?”

Hoseok swallows as the raven-haired, cat-eyed beauty standing across from them scowls. “Not quite, buddy.”

The academic fumbles for his glasses and slips them on, gasping as Min Yoonji comes into perfect focus. “Oh! Uh, good morning! You can ignore what you just saw and heard.”

“Absolutely not,” she counters easily, sitting gracefully on a stool at the breakfast bar. Far more awake and presentable than the two of them, she looks sleek and fashionable in a pale silver blouse, black sash tied around the collar, and sleek black pants. Her eyes rake over the two of them, mouth turned down in a frown. “No one would believe it,” she says finally.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok questions, feeling distinctly like a petri dish being studied by a disdainful scientist. He spares a glance at Namjoon, who shifts uncomfortably and fiddles with his pyjama sleeves.

Yoonji just shrugs like it’s obvious. “If you told them now that you’re dating, they’d assume it was a joke. You need to set it up, build a narrative,” she explains. “How about this? I’ll spread a rumour that I saw the two of you making out down here, then you lay down some clues like sneaking off together or fucking each other with your eyes over the dinner table, and boom, everyone will think you’re boning. Bonus points if you can get someone else in on it.”

The two stay silent for a few seconds before they realise Yoonji is waiting for an answer. “Uh,” Hoseok states eloquently.

“Thank you?” Namjoon questions.

Yoonji huffs, eyes rolling skywards. “You two are hopeless. I’ll do what I can, but it’s going to cost you.”

“Are we- what- is this a deal? Are you negotiating with us?” Namjoon stammers, taking his glasses off to clean the lenses with the edge of his shirt even though they were fine before.

“There is no negotiation,” she explains. “I’ll keep your secret and help you. In return, you need to send me a text the second Yoongi tries to put the moves on anyone so I can get the fuck out of the house. I’m not asking for much, but it is very important to me.”

The absurdity of the situation dawns upon Hoseok suddenly, and an unstoppable grin stretches across his face. “It was never about helping us, was it? You just wanna make sure you don’t accidentally walk in on your brother getting railed.”

Yoonji grimaces sharply, shaking her head like she’s trying to dispel the thought. “If you aren’t interested in the deal, I’ll find someone else to blackmail, simple as that.”

“We can do it!” Namjoon volunteers, straightening his back.

Hoseok quickly nods in agreement, watching Yoonji’s shoulders dip in relief. “Sounds fair,” he summarises, “but we’ll need your phone number to do that.”

Yoonji does an almost perfect job of masking her pleased smile with a pointed glare. “Give me your phones, then.”

--

By the time everyone is seated (bar Yoonji, who has apparently taken over her brother’s room to watch Netflix while the rest of you talk ‘business’) and Sejin walks in, you’ve made your decision.

Unlike the first week, the individual doesn’t know in advance, and it’s this guilt that makes you stubbornly avoid eye contact with them all.

Taehyung had also been given the pass to not join the meeting, but he’d shown up anyway for morale. Or, rather, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and taking a nap on your shoulder. You couldn’t deny it was comforting to feel his body heat, albeit unconscious.

Yoongi sits on the other side of Taehyung, luckily not pressuring you into conversation, and the two other couches are making conversation amongst themselves when Sejin cuts them short to start the meeting.

“Thank you for being punctual, everyone!” he begins cheerily. Perching on the edge of the coffee table, he rubs his palms together. “It’s time again for the elimination vote. Before I ask Y/n to make her decision, the current six Gentlemen have the chance to defend their position in the game. Starting from the left with you; Namjoon.”

Fuck. Now is the point where you can no longer avoid eye contact with everyone. Leaning into Taehyung’s embrace a little more - the sleeping boy grumbling as you shift beneath him - you look up tentatively towards Namjoon.

He looks a little nervous, but no more than he usually gets in these meetings anyway. Hoseok’s hand rests on the back of the couch behind the academic, who seems perfectly comfortable in the crook of Hoseok’s arm. “Y/n,” he begins, clearing his throat with a brief smile, “I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you so much, this past week especially. I know I still have some catching up to do when it comes to prowess in the bedroom, but I feel myself improving and once again I’m asking you to be patient with me, and keep me in the game a little longer so that I can do better next week, and the week after that.” He does a cute little nod when he’s finished, cheeks slightly pink.

Hoseok sighs out dramatically when his turn is signified, not shifting from his position. “I’m not above bribery, Y/n. If you keep me in this competition, I’ll take you to my workplace tonight and we can have a good time. If you vote me out, our little excursion will be to the worst Italian restaurant in Gangnam and order a margarita pizza with no cheese or sauce, extra anchovies and pineapple. And we won’t leave until you eat at least your half of the pizza.” He narrows his eyes at you, playful even in the face of elimination. “Are you willing to take that risk?”

You let out a genuine chuckle, shoulders jerking with the force of it. Roused from sleep by your movements, Tae pouts and rubs at his eyes. Even with his hair sticking up at odd angles, he looks so gorgeous that it takes your breath away. As he sits up and adjusts his position, leaning with his back against your side and tugging your arm over him like it’s a blanket, you can��t help but feel a pang of regret for voting him out so soon when you like him so much.

You bite down hard on your tongue, wincing at the pain. Would you come to regret the decision you’re making this morning, too?

Jin is next, and your heart thumps a little faster when you meet his gentle gaze. “I don’t have a lot to say,” he admits slowly, “at least, nothing that I haven’t already said to you. Spending time with you in any context is the highlight of my week, and I sorely hope that I don’t lose you just yet.”

That’s it for the couch to the left of you. Relieved nobody is expecting you to actually respond to these, you give Jin a tight smile and turn to Yoongi, staring at him over Taehyung’s bedhead.

Yoongi shrugs. “Y/n, I think you and I make a really good team. We’re compatible sexually, we get along well outside of that, and I know that you see it too. I’m pretty confident that I’m not the one going home this week.” You let out a light scoff at his faux air of certainty.

Finally, Jimin and Jungkook remain on the last couch. Jungkook is closer to you, so he’s next in line. The bright red streaks of his hair have faded a little, more rosy than before. It makes him look even softer as he sits cross-legged on the couch, the long sleeves of his baggy black shirt tangled up in his lap. He looks genuinely worried, unable to front a smile to you. “Um, I would-” He breaks off suddenly as his nose twitches. “I’d be really sad if you eliminated me,” he confesses in a small voice. “I don’t wanna guilt trip, but, um, I really wanna stay in.”

Your heart aches at the way he drops his chin and stares at the carpet blankly. Beside him, Jimin looks equally pained, and his voice is softer than usual when he speaks up.

“In terms of defending my place in the game,” Jimin says slowly, “I can promise that I’ll keep things different and exciting every week for you and that things will be a lot more fun if you keep me in.” He eyes crinkle fondly. “But I trust your decision either way.”

You suck in an unsteady breath. With everyone’s petitions complete, there’s nothing standing between you and the decision you have to make. Though his words cut right to you, the person you’d chosen earlier hasn’t changed.

Sejin clears his throat after giving you a moment to think. “Who are you choosing to eliminate this week, Y/n? As per the current rules, they’ll be removed from the competition, but allowed to remain in the house on the grounds that they do not initiate any sexual contact with you.”

Making like Jungkook, you lower your gaze to the floor. “First of all,” you start, hating the way your voice sounds so small, “you’re all amazing. Just like last week, there’s no- there’s no easy choice. No matter who I choose it’s going to suck for us both, and I’m sorry about that.”

You pause for a moment, trying to think of the right way to phrase your thoughts. “I’m choosing this person because I think that while the sex has been, um, really good-” it’s futile to fight the blush on your cheeks but you duck your head lower anyway, “-it’s maybe not as exciting week to week as some of the other guys.” The eyes on you feel like redhot pressure points, and you try and loosen the tightness in your chest. “And if I’m totally honest, I think- I really like this person, but I think I’d feel a little more comfortable being able to explore that without the pressures of the competition.”

It’s the least you can do to lift your gaze up and to the left, giving him the dignity of a proper sendoff. “I’m sorry, Jin, it’s you this week.”

Perhaps the worst part of this morning is that Jin seems genuinely caught off-guard.

Or perhaps the worst part is the way his face falls into something grave and icy, standing up so abruptly that Hoseok recoils beside him.

Your heart sinks, your voice drowned out by Sejin’s even as you call out the same name.

“Jin,” Sejin commands, “you have to come back to- Jin!”

Though he was already halfway to the front door, Jin stiffly turns around and waits in the doorway. His eyes actively avoid you, glaring at the wall. Sejin excuses himself and takes him aside to give him the instructions on how to proceed.

It feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you, pooling in your stomach, and you fight the tears that prick your eyes as Tae wriggles around beside you, pulling you into a hug.

You feel fingers card through your hair, even as his two hands stroke your back and hold you close. Glancing up, you’re met with the sight of Yoongi’s face, pained with sympathy, as he gently pats your cheek and continues to brush your hair.

“He hates me,” you murmur miserably.

Yoongi doesn’t contradict you, just letting out a sad sigh. “He’s upset,” he admits, “but he’s a strong guy. He’ll move past it.”

You protest weakly as Taehyung coos softly and pulls you closer, practically tugging you onto his lap so your legs hang over one side and your torso is snug in his embrace. The guilt is far worse this week than it was last time. It constricts your lungs, your veins, makes you feel weak with dread. “He likes me. He likes me and I did that to him.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we all like you,” Yoongi says, his hand falling to cup yours, swirling lazy circles on the skin of your palm.

“Not like that,” you counter, “not like Jin does.”

For a moment it seems like Yoongi is going to disagree with that, but he drops it, squeezing your hand and standing up. “I’m going to make us something to eat. Maybe a hot stew would cheer everyone up a little bit.”

The chances are low, you think, but you would never turn down his food. “Sejin still hasn’t assigned the new prompts and told us about the new week, though,” you point out, glancing over to the two men still in the doorway. Even seeing Jin for a second jolts you like an electric shock, so you turn and bundle your face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, feeling the soft fibres of his box-knit cardigan against your chin.

“Then Sejin can make himself useful and chop some vegetables while he does it,” Yoongi counters with a pompous sniff as he leaves, and in spite of your own misery, a chuckle overcomes you at the thought of it.

“There’s that smile,” Taehyung croons, a finger tipping your chin up. His eyes are two brown pools of comfort that you can’t help but get lost in. “Jin will survive. I did!”

You straighten up once you hear the sound of shoes approaching again, smile dropping. But this time Sejin stands alone.

“Yoongi, out of the kitchen, please,” the producer sighs.

With one foot hovering over the border where carpet meets tile, Yoongi freezes. “I’ll make you an extra serving,” he bargains, “you can even pick the meat.”

“Out of the kitchen,” Sejin repeats in a stern voice, “can we have at least some decorum during the meeting?”

“But I’m hungry,” he defends. Sejin doesn’t reply, simply flattening his gaze. As everyone waits, Yoongi slinks back like a sulking cat, perching on the edge of the couch beside you and Taehyung with his arms crossed in defiance. “Do I get to pick out the prompts again?”

“No. Let’s get started, please.” Taking a breath so deep it lifts his shoulders, Sejin calms himself and clears his throat, standing in front of the seven of you. “The theme of this week is Limited Edition. I’ve got five prompts here; come up in any order.”

Taehyung slides you off his lap so smoothly that you barely notice it’s happened before he’s standing up with a stretch, waltzing towards Sejin’s outstretched hand.

Sejin realises at the last minute and tugs his hand back the second Taehyung’s fingers brush one of the slips of paper. “Taehyung, you know you can’t take a prompt. Sit down.”

Without pause, Taehyung spins on his foot, strolling right back to your couch as if nothing was amiss. “Worth a shot,” he mutters when he sits back down beside you. You know this is just his attempt at cheering you up, but that doesn’t make it work any less. Tucking your arm around his, you lean into him and watch as the first actual contestant takes his prompt.

It’s Yoongi up first, clearly wanting to expedite the process as much as possible, but when he snatches the topmost fold of paper, the text written inside gives him pause. His brows furrow, then lift in realisation, before he collapses back beside you, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch thoughtfully.

Jimin is next, selecting the next one in the splayed-out pile. His head cocks to the side, turning to Yoongi with a curious look. “Oh,” he comments mildly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, and Hoseok, who’d previously been stunned into silence with Jin’s sudden mood change, springs up with a huff.

“What is this oohing and aahing all about,” he grumbles, quickly picking a prompt and holding it close to his chest like he’s worried someone will peek. The second he looks at his, however, his face falls. He tries to recover with a light laugh, but you don’t miss the way he eyes the remaining slips in Sejin’s hand like he longs to trade his in.

He sits down though, patting Namjoon’s thigh to get him to go up. Oddly enough, Namjoon also looks stricken when he reads his prompt, showing it to Hoseok with a nervous gnawing of his lip.

Jungkook is the last one left, and at this point you’re uncontrollably curious but also wary about what these prompts could contain. Interestingly, though, Jungkook doesn’t seem disappointed or worried, but instead scrunches his nose and giggles at the prompt, tucking it into his pocket before joining Jimin and poking his side until the older man shows him his prompt, snickering even more at the sight of it.

“Alright,” Sejin starts, cutting off your train of thought, “now that we’ve finished that, the last point of discussion is the Bangasm Bomb. This week, the special challenge is called Viewer’s Choice. Each day, there will be a random poll taken on the official Bangasm twitter. It will correspond to each prompt, and the next morning, one of you will get a text. That means you have to complete your prompt that day, using the winning vote of the poll. If you fail to include this aspect, you’ll fail overall even if you successfully completed the actual prompt. Make sense?”

Jungkook stares blankly. “Could we have an example?”

Sejin shrugs. “The first poll was posted at 10am this morning. The four options are: standing, lying down, sitting and kneeling. Whichever position wins the poll must be included in the scene tomorrow. If, tomorrow morning, you get a text from me with one of these options, that means you need to complete your prompt that day using the winning option of the poll.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says slowly, mulling it over, “yeah, I get it now. So we don’t get to choose when we go?”

“Not this week, no,” Sejin explains, and then clears his throat. “Well, then. That’s all from me! I need to go make sure Seokjin is behaving.”

The mention of the recently-eliminated member sobers everyone up. Yoongi returns to the kitchen with less vigor than before, Hoseok joins him to make himself a drink, Jungkook comes over to the couch with you and Taehyung and wedges himself between the two of you, so sullen he doesn’t even speak.

In the end, the seven of you decide to eat lunch in front of the television, putting on a mindless sitcom that nobody really focuses on. Yoonji comes down once Yoongi texts her for lunch, and she sits on the floor with her bowl propped up on the coffee table.

Time passes, and Jin doesn’t return inside.

For a while, there’s an unspoken assumption that he’s still in the confessional shed with Sejin doing his exit interview, but once Jimin pokes his head out the front door and sees the producer working away in the production van, that idea is shattered.

“He’s okay, right?” Taehyung asks abruptly as a laugh track echoes hollowly around the room.

No one needs to ask who he is. Yoongi shrugs. “He’s an adult,” he offers, but the glint of concern is as much alight in his eyes as anyone else’s.

The thought only sustains peace amongst you for so long. Jungkook is glum, Hoseok looks anxious, Namjoon grows restless and begins chewing the end of one of his chopsticks. Even Yoonji has her brows furrowed, jaw tense.

Eventually, your worry overcomes you, and you grab the remote and mute the TV, pitching the room into silence. “I’m going to find him,” you announce.

“Y/n…” Yoongi says reluctantly, but your mind is made.

Not bothering with shoes, you unlock the front door again and slip outside, immediately turning the perimeter to go look for the missing gentleman.

Half-expecting him to be sulking in the confessional booth still, a strike of alarm thuds in your chest to find it empty. You inspect the poolside, the patio and outdoor dining area, but Seokjin’s nowhere to be found.

It’s just as you’re about to give up and return inside that you spot him.

Barely more than a smudge in the distance, you see his tall figure sitting, hunched up, on the very outskirts of the gravel path. He picks up pieces of rock, throws them half-heartedly, and he’s so far away that you can’t even hear them clatter. You recoil at the lonely sight, fighting the urge to run to him.

When you return inside, all eyes are on you. “He’s right on the edge of the property,” you explain miserably, “as far away from me as he can get.”

“Oh, Y/n,” Jimin says softly, eyes brimming with sympathy. From the silence around the room, there’s not much else to say.

You bite your lip. “He probably doesn’t want to talk to me, but can someone please go get him before it gets dark? I’m going to my room for a bit.”

Nobody protests, and you heave yourself up the stairs. By the time you flop onto the bed in your room, door locked behind you, you feel heavier than solid stone.

You’re too distressed to sleep, but guilt pulls at your limbs and leaves you unable to get out of bed for the rest of the day.

--

By the time you’re called down to go on your excursion with Hoseok, part of you wants to cancel and wallow in your self-pity a little longer. But Hoseok had clearly been looking forward to it so much, and you can’t deny the allure of escaping the Villa, even if only for a few hours.

Hoseok beams at you warmly as he greets you at the car idling outside. With his hair fluffy over his brow but his clothes sleek black, he’s like an enticing halfway point between Hoseok and Master. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting his clear skin in a rich orange glow. “Ready?”

You return his smile, albeit with a little less vigor. “Let’s get out of here.” When the two of you get inside the car and it pulls down the driveway, there’s no lone figure throwing stones on the perimeter of the property. Your heart tugs in a way you can’t quite articulate.

Though you try not to, it’s impossible not to mentally take stock and compare this experience to your previous nights out. Far more than Jimin and Yoongi, Hoseok keeps you talking. Whether it’s him trying to keep you distracted, or just his natural brand of social vibrance, there isn’t a quiet moment.

It isn’t until the car has wound its way deep into the city that Hoseok gently clears his throat, cutting off his own spiel about his favourite brand of bucket hats. “It seems we’ve reached a crossroads,” he announces meaningfully.

You frown as you glance between the seats and out the front window. “That’s a roundabout, Hoseok.”

His eyes shift. “Metaphorically.”

“And what might this metaphorical crossroads entail?” you ask teasingly, a smile curling your lips.

Hoseok stays uncharacteristically sober, leaning towards you as the car creeps forward in the blocked-up after-work traffic. “Our location, princess,” he says softly.

“I thought we were going to your work?” you respond in confusion.

“At the moment we are,” Hoseok replies. “But there’s a cinema just down the road, several great food places, even this fancy smoothie shop that lets you pick your own ingredients.”

“Okay…” The rhythmic click of the turning light echoes through the backseat, making you feel entranced as you watch Hoseok’s eyes warm, focused on you. “Do you not want to go to your work?”

“This is about you now,” he corrects in a kind but firm voice. “Do you want to go to the Red Room and play?”

“Yes,” you say instinctively, but the dom just shakes his head.

“No,” he states unflinchingly, “I need you to think about it longer than that. Do you feel emotionally, mentally, and physically in a position to do a scene tonight?”

You suck in a breath slowly, taking the time to run over them one by one. Physically was the easiest one. Your sex drive was quickly reconfiguring the longer you spent on the show, and even just a day without any action at all was making you feel a little restless and unsatisfied. Emotionally and mentally gave you pause.

How can you untangle those two when your mind and your heart feel knotted together inside you? Whenever one lights up, the other just reflects it. The moment you think of Jin, guilt overcomes you, but that just sparks your desire to flood yourself with distractions and escapism. But then the thought of being out here, enjoying yourself while he’s still stuck in the Villa, probably seething in hurt or rage or betrayal… The guilt just flares even colder in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you admit after a moment of silence. Hoseok hums once, inviting you to speak further. “I really want to. But I don’t know if I should. I just want to forget about everything, but maybe that’s a bad reason.” You blow out a deep breath, cheeks puffing up. “I don’t know; you’re the BDSM expert. Is it okay if I do it to just distract myself?”

Hoseok stays silent for a moment, eyes roaming over you like he’s searching for something. “That depends,” he answers finally. “If it’s a recurring problem in your life, and you use BDSM as a coping mechanism, then that can be unhealthy. Just like drinks or drugs. But at the same time, it’s very common that BDSM is a way of emotional or mental release. Office workers who feel like they’re working the same 9 to 5 every day with no power might want to feel like they have control and excitement in one area of their lives. Maybe CEOs or lawyers or doctors or parents might want to go to a BDSM club and submit so they finally can release the burden of expectation. To have someone else take care of them and make the decisions for a few hours.”

The dom sighs out slowly, eyes softening in empathy. “Y/n, you know that I can’t tell you whether it’s okay or not. I can’t consent on your behalf. You need to decide for yourself if you’re using this as a release, or as a dependent coping mechanism. Do you understand?”

You nod silently, not trusting your voice for a moment. Though he can’t decide for you, his explanation brings a clarity that strikes deeper than you originally intended. “I want to feel taken care of,” you offer up, voice thin like blown glass as your eyes prickle. “I just want to feel good for tonight, Hobi.”

Hoseok nods with a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Then I have another question, princess,” he starts. “You said you were wanting to forget about everything. Would you enjoy your time more if you played with someone else?”

You’re tugged out of your brief lapse of emotional vulnerability by the statement, cocking your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok’s lip twitches as his eyes brighten a little. “Mistress Bee has an opening that she kept just for you,” he reveals in a honeyed drawl, “if you want to use it. Her and I spoke about it earlier. If you’re anything like me, the constant presence of cameras and the whole competition can start to weigh pretty heavily. I think it might be good for you to let yourself be separate from it entirely for a while. Have some fun for fun’s sake. What do you think?”

The idea is something you’d never considered, yet you can’t deny there’s something incredibly appealing about cutting your ties - even just for an evening - and not having to worry about anything to do with the show. But still, you hesitate. “Where would you be?”

Hoseok shrugs easily. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. I could sit near the two of you, or just hang around in the main den so I’m out of sight but still not far. And if you really want some distance, I might just go next door and make myself a custom smoothie. Either way, I’m happy.”

You startle when the car suddenly halts, a jerky job of parking down a side street. You’re here. A strange feeling of urgency overtakes you, like he’ll leave any second. You reach out and clutch at his shirt, feeling the press of buttons against your palm. “I want you to stay,” you say in a rush, knuckles going white.

“I’m here,” Hoseok soothes with warm eyes, unhooking your fingers from his shirt one at a time, before squeezing your hand and resting it back in your lap. “I’ll stay, princess.”

Outside, the air is still warm with the remnants of the set sun, even as lamp posts cast white pools of light onto the pavement. On one side of the car - as it reverses painfully slowly back onto the main street - you can spot the smoothie shop Hoseok was talking about, but on the far side is a Daiso store, and on your side, just in front of you, is the entrance to a cinema complex.

You pause, frowning in confusion, but before you can turn to ask Hoseok, his hand is already on the small of your back, leading you towards the cinema.

“We’re downstairs,” the dom explains, pointing out a sign you’d missed that displays the now-familiar logo of two Rs back to back, beside the B that indicates it’s located in the basement. As he leads you past the small foyer of the cinema and down a set of modest hardwood stairs, his voice lowers. “Although all the walls and ceilings are soundproof, having a bass-boosted movie blasting above you certainly helps drown out the rest of the noise. Gives us a bit more privacy.”

“Clever,” you comment absentmindedly, but your attention has already been caught by the sight that greets you below.

The moment you round the final corner of the narrow stairs, it’s like an entirely different world. Without any natural light, the entryway you step onto is lit mostly with wall sconces, though there’s strip lighting along the very edges of the hallway that glow an ominous red.

In front of you is a roughly oval room. In the centre, a woman with a shaved head and long acrylic nails taps away at a monitor, glancing back and forth from the screen to a large black book just beside it. She glances up when you step down, smirking at Hoseok with clear recognition.

Flanking the outskirts of the room are two bulky bodyguards, and you don’t even notice them until they relax and give him a nod. They seem to protect not only the receptionist but three sets of doors as well.

On the left is a locked door marked with letters engraved onto the wood itself reading STAFF. On the far right, the almost identical door there has no lock, and displays instead CHANGING ROOMS. In the middle, directly behind the desk, are two massive doors with iron handles curved in the shape of flicking devil’s tails, complete with the pointed tips. Instead of any words, each door just has one of the Rs of the logo. Then again, it doesn’t really surprise you that there wasn’t any explicit title or description visible. This was a place that you only went to if you knew where you were going.

“I thought you were taking time off, Sir?” the woman asks in a teasing lilt. She’s almost intimidatingly gorgeous, and you fight the urge to shift closer to Hoseok’s side. Her eyes shift to you nonetheless and her grin widens. “Yet here you are, bearing a gift.”

“Not for sharing, I’m afraid,” Hoseok deflects, and it takes you off-guard to hear the audible difference in his voice compared to what you’re used to. He’s not fully in Master mode, but the bubbly ball of energy has been replaced by the suave charisma of someone who knows he commands the attention of any room. Just as you glance up at him, he looks down with crinkled eyes and lifts the hand on your back up into your hair, not quite tugging, but keeping it there for a moment before he lets his fingers slip through your locks again. He holds your eyes a second longer before turning back to the receptionist. “Red cuffs will do, Sim.”

With a sigh, the receptionist acquiesces, a small silver piercing just below her bottom lip glinting as she shifts and reaches into a drawer at the desk, producing a pair of cuffs that look exactly the same as the ones Hoseok had used on you a few days ago.

She stretches them out towards you, but Hoseok intercepts and chooses to put them on you himself. Though they come connected together by the chain, he unclips and pockets it once the leather is snug around your wrists, leaving you claimed but still free to move. The meaning of the red trim still makes you shiver when you run your fingertips over it, and the sight makes Sim chuckle.

“First time here?” You aren’t sure if the cat-eyed beauty in front of you is asking you directly or Hoseok on your behalf, but you nod anyway. She hums, closing the drawer and pulling a sheet of paper out of another one and placing it on the desktop. “Just because you’re coming in attached to the Big Man doesn’t mean you get to skip the rules. Read them over and sign anywhere on the page to show you’ve understood. And I’ll need to see some ID, verify your age and all that.”

Fumbling to pull your ID out of your wallet, you hand it over and take the photocopy and the outstretched pen from her in turn, scanning the numbered list of rules. There aren’t any surprises, luckily; it reiterates the cuff colouring, safeword systems and staff on site, as well as emergency exits and procedures. There are places to buy drinks and snacks inside, but only spectators can consume alcohol.

“There’s a station for toy rental inside,” Sim explains, handing you back your ID after noting down your details, “with its own set of rules and everything, but I’m sure your Master here will be using his own stash. Our staff wear black clothes with red logos and arm bands, you can’t miss ‘em. Just sign if you’re good, and you two can go on through.”

Hoseok waits while you read, sharing some smalltalk with the two bodyguards in the meantime. Once you sign off and hand the items back to Sim, who dutifully stamps the sheet and files it away, your dom turns to you with a pleased grin. “Shall we?”

The moment Hoseok wraps his slender fingers around those devil tail door handles and pushes them inwards, sound fills the room, no longer held at bay by the seal of soundproofing. Chatter, laughter, the general hum of crowds - they all fill the space around moans and cries and cracks of whips, every possible noise you’d heard on a porn video or experienced over the past three weeks.

It was debauchery in every sense of the word, and Hoseok slipped into the thick of it like a duck in water.

With a single finger hooked onto one of your cuffs by the silver loop, he pulls you in with him, letting you soak in your surroundings as he leads you.

Though you didn’t really have any clear expectations, you’re shocked by the sheer amount of people inside, all gasping at Hoseok and parting in front of him like an adoring sea. The first area is relatively cosy, clearly just meant for socialising.

Couches surround the edges of the room, except for a small bar manned by two insanely hot guys. One effortlessly shakes up a drink, biceps pumping with the motion, and the other chats up a middle-aged woman who appears to flirt back, ignoring the older man kneeling at her feet with a pleading look in his eyes.

They fall out of your sight quickly as you move through a doorway, the sound dropping off just as suddenly. It’s not quite silence that greets you in the next room, however. Just about bumping into a row of occupied seats, Hoseok adjusts your direction so that you move around the back of the room, but that doesn’t stop you from glancing towards the front, where a whimpering girl is strapped to what looks like a medieval set of pillocks by the neck and wrists, her face wet with tears but alight with ecstasy as a gloved man demonstrates to a rapt audience how to fit an entire fist inside her.

Your eyes widen at how openly they display the obscene act. Then again, how is it any different from what you’d been doing in the Villa? Whether it was an audience at home watching through a screen, you’d still let yourself be viewed in much the same way. As Hoseok keeps you stumbling down the back of the room and out a different doorway, you think more about what being that girl on the stage might feel like.

Moving so quickly through the seemingly endless basement, you’re startled when suddenly you’re jolted to a stop in front of an elevator. Hoseok punches in a code that has to be at least seven or so digits on a little keypad beside the doors, before pressing the down arrow.

“Where are we going?” you question, voice still hushed as if you were in the theater.

“Bee’s office,” Hoseok answers simply, but the realisation that you’re about to play with the gorgeous spitfire - with Hoseok watching, no less - fills you with a restless arousal. “She doesn’t know whether you chose to even come here tonight or not, let alone play with her. We’re going to give her a little surprise, princess. I guess I did come bearing a gift after all.”

Once the lift arrives, he steps inside smoothly, no longer holding onto your cuffs. You jump inside, watching him select B2 off the limited selection of floors. “This used to be a carpark,” Hoseok explains casually as you’re slowly lowered down. “But when it got bought by the cinema, they didn’t really need it, so they leased the first below-ground floor to us for a pretty low price. We originally just kept this lift for wheelchair access, but once we got bigger and expanded a little, we decided to move our offices downstairs for an extra layer of privacy.”

The elevator chimes, opening its doors to reveal a hallway similar in appearance to the entrance foyer you first walked into. “But we aren’t going to your office?” you ask, curiosity making your skin itch as he walks right past a door with the letter H on a placard beside the knob.

“Not this time, princess.” Hoseok halts again, and you catch sight of a new door, this one with a B. Spinning on his heel, your dom turns to you and pats your cheeks with a grin, lowering his voice conspiriatorially. “If you’re Bee’s present, we better wrap you up nice, hm?”

Things start to feel distinctly more real when Hoseok undresses you right in that very corridor. You can’t help but worry that somebody could come down in the elevator at any moment, or the service stairs behind you. Watching you squirm with a barely-contained grin, Hoseok does nothing to assuage those fears.

He allows you to keep on your panties, kicking the rest of your clothes to the side and slipping off his own jacket to lay over your shoulders. Though it’s a little big on you, it’s laughably inadequate in covering you up, made of some less-than-opaque black fabric that betrays everything below down to the moles and freckles on your skin. Hoseok looks somehow even more intimidating without the piece on, a fitted tank top exposing his taut shoulders and modestly sculpted arms.

“Knock, princess,” Hoseok instructs, not without the warm hint of fondness that colours his voice.

You do so with a shaky hand - shivering partly from excitement and partly from the chill of air conditioning that fills the hallway.

“I’m busy!” a muffled voice calls out brightly, making Hoseok tut with a rueful smile.

He leans in so that his cheek almost brushes the hard wood. “Do you want to be busier?”

A pause, then footsteps drawing closer.

Before the door even opens fully, Bee is cooing loudly on the other side, clapping her hands in clear joy. “I knew it! Come in, come in!”

Her bubbly personality is at odds with the glossy red latex that covers her body, heels clicking with every skipped step back into her office. Bee waves you in first, letting you enter before you hear her voice lower, asking for permission to touch.

“She’s all yours, feel free to play with her to your heart’s desire,” Hoseok explains easily, making arousal pool between your legs, “the red is for you and me tonight.”

“Splendid,” Bee chirps from behind you, and you jump when you suddenly feel fingers brushing up your spine, even through the thin fabric of Hoseok’s jacket. “Take a seat, chickie, let’s talk.”

In her office, the Mistress shows that same duality of a cheery personality with her dominance. A large corner desk sits in the corner, with a small board of polaroids pinned to the wall and a little terracotta pot of violets and a spray bottle of water just beside it. A small cup with various items of stationery is complete with a tall pen with a fluffy pink pompom on the end, and even from what you can glimpse, it looks like her screensaver on her computer is some stylised LINE friends character.

Yet move your eyes anywhere else in the room, and you see a metal cage in one corner, a flogger hanging from a clothes peg behind the door, various fixtures on the walls, ceiling and furniture that speak of restraint and punishment.

As you perch delicately on a lowset sofa across from her desk, you wonder if Hoseok’s office is much the same. It certainly looks like Bee would take in subs here to play with her, judging by the equipment. Had Hoseok spent evenings with submissive women and men in his office, making them kneel and beg and serve?

The thought stirs something inside you, and for a moment you think it’s jealousy. But then Hoseok beams at you with a salacious wink, settling onto the corner of Bee’s desk, and you realise that it’s less envy and more the feeling like there were parts of him you were missing out on. That there was still so much you had to discover of him, to experience with him.

You wonder if he’ll let you come back to see him here one day, after all this is over.

Suddenly, your view of him is obstructed by the deep red of Bee’s corset and latex pants, her hands on her hips. “You’re looking a little too much at him and not enough at me, chickie,” she croons, almost conspiriatorially as you crane your neck to meet her gaze. She tilts her head, lips curled. “Do we have to send him out?”

You shake your head adamantly, unable to stop your eyes from quickly darting behind her.

She chuckles. “Cute. So soft for her Master.” Your head feels hazy as she slips her fingers into your hair, stroking your head fondly. “I think your Master is soft on you too, baby.”

Without much fanfare, Bee swivels and sits herself down beside you, so close your shoulders and thighs press together. You suck in a breath at the closeness, but the domme just gets closer, flicking your hair over your shoulder and rubbing at the nape of your neck as she watches you intently.

“Did Hobi give you the full tour?” she asks in a low voice, the slight graze of her fingernails making you shiver. “What was your favourite room so far, I wonder?”

You go to shrug, put on the spot so suddenly, but before you can Hoseok pipes up. “The theater,” he states without room for disagreement.

At the thought of the room, you feel desire swim within you. The image of that girl, so vulnerable as a room of at least thirty strangers watched her, analysed her, enjoyed her pleasure just as much as she did. That image hadn’t really left your head since the moment you saw it. Before you even realised it yourself, Hoseok had known. Something about that made you dizzy with your want for him.

But tonight was about Bee, about the intoxicating feeling of being so close to a beautiful, powerful woman. The lady herself hums, pleased. “The theater,” she repeats in a low voice. “Do you like watching, baby?”

“She’s on a porn show,” Hoseok butts in again, his eyes like pointed furnaces on you, wetting his lips between words, “give her more credit than that.”

This time, Bee straightens up and narrows her eyes at the man across from you. “You can stop answering on her behalf, Hoseok, or I’ll put you out myself. You said I get to play with her tonight.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he retorts in a slightly sarcastic, petulant tone, but shoves his hands in his pockets and presses his lips together anyway.

Bee turns back to you, letting her fingers tuck beneath the collar of Hoseok’s jacket so that her palm rests against your bare back. Stroking slowly, she smiles, her eyes glittering. “We can play on the big stage if you want, baby. Would you like that?”

The opportunity, a little bit frightening but mostly extremely arousing, makes you squeeze your thighs together with a hard swallow. “Yes, please,” you mumble in a small voice.

Her smile widens, caramel skin positively glowing in the warm light of her office. “Perfect,” she drawls happily, before standing up, back arching slightly as she stretches. “Then there are a few rules you need to know before I take you out there.”

The two dominants share a look, Hoseok lifting his brow at something written on Bee’s face. “Really?” he questions in surprise, chuckling reluctantly. “You’re going all out, huh?”

Even as confusion overtakes you, you watch in rapt curiosity as Bee shrugs, slipping past him to open a tall, skinny cabinet just behind her desk. There’s a large, dark brown coat there, but her hand delves deeper, pulling out a thin yet tough-looking strand of nylon rope, a suggestive deep red almost the same shade as her bodice.

“I dyed these myself,” Bee explains, her voice light and warm like honey. You watch as she lets the length pass over her palm loosely. “I don’t know if Hoseok told you, but rope bondage is my specialty. If you wear this, everyone out there will know you belong to me.”

You bite your lip, heart racing as she slips off Hoseok’s jacket, chucking it towards him without a glance as she keeps her focus on you. Her eyes gleam as she slips the rope around your back, beginning to loop and fold it. “What are the rules?” you ask, voice already airy with the arousal that peaks your nipples and sends shivers down your spine with every drag of the rope.

If it was possible, Bee appears to have even more subdued prowess with ropes than Hoseok does, her fingers nimble and practiced, moving so quickly that it leaves lines of hot friction against your skin. “The rules?” she repeats casually. “Well, the first one is that I expect you to address me by my proper title. Do you know what that is?”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you nod. “Mistress,” you croak out, almost stuttering on the word that feels so unfamiliar on your tongue. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment only heightened by how close she stands to you, flooding your senses.

“That’s right, chickie,” she praises, tugging the rope suddenly, making sure there’s no give as your bare chest is yanked forward. Satisfied, she tucks the ends in neatly and places her hands on your waist, taking in her work. It’s a basic chest harness, like one you remember Hoseok putting you in, but there’s beautiful flair all over, with arches and keyholes and braids that slip between your breasts, along your spine, shoulders and ribs. Almost like a bralette, the main difference being that your breasts themselves are fully exposed to her - and Hoseok’s - roving gaze.

“Now,” she continues, “rule two. You don’t have permission to speak unless I ask you a question. I used the limit sheet for you that’s on the Bangasm website, but if there are any changes throughout the scene, the only words you can say at any time are your safewords. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, but here at Red we use the stoplight system. Is that clear?”

It’s easier to say the second time. “Yes, mistress.” Still, the excitement low in your belly just grows with the way she nods in approval. Your desire to please sets in quickly, and the rope on your chest and the leather around your wrists feel like a promise of what’s to come if you continue to please her.

Jerking her head to indicate that Hoseok should open the door for her, Bee turns to you and hooks a finger under a strand of the rope, just under your breast. “And the final rule is more important since this is my first time playing with you. If something feels good, you thank me for it. Like this.”

Before you can even process it, lips softer than silk press against yours, chaste but unforgiving as you’re pinned in place by the harness in her grip. She smells sweet, slightly floral like gardenia or jasmine, and she tastes like strawberry chapstick.

When Bee finally pulls away, your head feels hazy, on a lag. Your lips still tingle from the missing contact, but you let out a dreamy, “thank you, Mistress,” without even thinking.

She grins at your reaction and turns towards the door, pulling you behind her with that finger caught on the rope. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a sweet girl like you to play with,” she croons back at you, before patting Hoseok on the chest with her free hand. “Thank you for the gift, Hobi.”

There’s a strangely smug feeling inside you as Bee leads you out of the office, back into the chill hallway and up the elevator. Hoseok trails behind, and some part of you is thriving in that feeling of being the focus of his and her attention. And even as you’re led back into the theatre, going right through the middle of the seats before veering off to the right to go behind the wings, the eyes on you feel electric.

Just like that woman that was on the stage earlier - it now sits empty in an interlude, the audience chatting amongst themselves - you feel like a pillar of desire, a pretty thing for everyone to look at, but only for a few to touch. The red cuffs and red rope lift you higher into that headspace, submissive yet superior in a way.

The attention of those strangers is addictive, and any uncertainty disappears with the need for them to replace those brief glances of curiosity with full stares, the kind of intense focus that you’d only receive by being out on that stage.

There are a fair amount of people backstage. At least three or four people in black shirts with STAFF printed in glossy block letters flitter around, chatting to the others or checking equipment. The lady from earlier is still behind there, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, like one you’d see in a sick bay in high school. A large man, beefy like a body builder, tenderly hugs her from behind as they sit on a couch, and takes a bottle of lemonade from a staff member, gently encouraging her to drink.

You hear Bee catching the attention of a staff member holding a clipboard, chatting to him, but your attention is caught by the woman. Her face is glistening with tears, sweat and even some drool, and she looks exhausted yet elated, giggling weakly when her dom pats her clean with a paper towel. With a kind of delicate care and patience that seems at odds with his rather aggressive appearance, his lips move close by her ear, words just meant to be shared between the two of them.

When you did intense scenes with the guys, did you look like that? The thought sticks in your mind as Bee’s bright voice remains in the background. There was something so loving and meaningful about the connection that you felt to the guys after a scene like that, and the couple in front of you seems like a physical representation of that emotion.

Suddenly, pain spikes in your chest at the reminder that you’ll never have that connection with Jin again, that every week you’d have less and less moments like those. And instead of cherishing them, you were here, about to do a scene with a near stranger, in front of actual strangers.

Suddenly, your original idea of escaping the Villa doesn’t seem to be as appealing.

Glancing up, that pain turns to alarm as there’s a missing presence around you. Bee is finishing her conversation, waving away the staff member before turning to you, but the two of you stand alone.

“Mistress,” you offer up, biting harshly on your tongue when you realise belatedly you’re breaking her second rule already, “where is Hoseok?”

Before she can furrow her brows for your disobedience, they knit together instead in concern. “He’s getting a good seat in the audience, chickie. Were you not paying attention?”

Your cheeks heat, and you apologise in a rush, letting your eyes dart over to the post-scene couple one last time. She’s fallen asleep, his chin propped up gently on the crown of your head, and you feel like you’re intruding by observing them any longer.

Bee notes your distraction, but just sends you a bemused smile and grasps your chin so that you’re forced to face her. “We’re going to go on now,” she enunciates clearly, and the reminder of reality clears your mind a little, “I’m due to teach a demonstration on bondage, are you okay with that? It’s nothing too intense.”

You nod quickly. Perhaps there was something wrong with you, or perhaps you were just kinkier than you thought, but in your experience, being tied up or tied down felt calming and grounding in a way that you think is necessary given the whole new world of live exhibition that you’re about to undertake. “I’m okay with it, Mistress.”

“Good. Keep our rules in mind, chickie; let’s go have fun.”

For some reason, applause is not something you’d considered, expected or prepared for. Your cheeks heat the moment you step out, lights so bright that the audience is swimming silhouettes, and are met with passionate clapping.

Though you know it’s for Bee - she drinks it in with a proud beam, totally in her element on stage - it’s an audible reminder of the attention on you right now. If your panties weren’t soaked through before, you can definitely feel wetness on your thighs now.

“Thank you, thank you, it’s good to be back up here!” she cheers out, and you jump when her voice reverberates. The sound carries in here so well that just a speaking voice seems to fill the room. You wonder if later on, your own moans will surround you in much the same way.

Bee lets go of her grip on your harness and ducks her head in, quickly instructing you to kneel in a ‘comfortable way’. You’re surprised when the stage floor is solid, yet not as painful as you’d expect on your bare knees. You adjust a bit so that the pressure is off your kneecaps and ankles, and look up at the domme, listening to her spiel.

“Welcome back to our Red Members, and welcome for the first time for any newcomers. My name is Mistress Bee, I’m the resident bondage, suspension and shibari expert here.” She pauses while a few scattered claps ring out, and you preen when she shifts to the side, stroking the top of your head as she continues. “Last week I did a demonstration with the lovely Mikey on some common suspension ties. From week to week, I want to teach you all the ins and outs of suspension, because it’s a very rewarding craft for the dom and the sub, but it’s also pretty complex. So before we get into off-ground suspension, this week I want to show you my favourite intermediate step: sex swings.”

Your heart thuds, glancing up so quickly that her hand falls over your forehead and eyes, but she just smiles placidly down at you and pinches your cheeks playfully, making a few of the audience members chuckle.

“I have a pretty little chickie here with me today to help me out. Seems like she didn’t guess what we were playing with today, huh?”

Unsure whether it’s rhetoric or not, you carefully mutter a, “no, Mistress.”

“It’s a fun surprise, then,” she quips, before turning back to the audience. With slow, clicking steps, she makes her way to the side of the stage you’d come from, gesturing to a couple staff members.

Your mouth goes dry as a industrial-looking metal post gets lowered from the ceiling, running parallel to the ground, but taller than your arms could reach standing up when it groans to a stop. Two guys rush on stage with a black pile of leather and metal, connecting the chains to the metal pole in two different places. The major component is a flat piece of stiff fabric, clearly meant for your body, with two leather loops on one side to prop up your legs. With the way they’ve hooked it up, you’ll be side-on to the audience.

“Sex swings seem a little cheesy,” Bee begins, and you jump when her voice comes from behind you, varnished nails running over the bare skin of your upper shoulders. “But they’re actually a really good stepping stone for suspension. The dom gets used to maneuvering someone else that’s off the ground, and the sub can experience what it’s like not having their weight supported by the floor at all. They’re also far more cost-effective than good quality suspension gear.”

As Bee explains, your eyes wince against the lights, trying to make out the blurred lines of people in the audience. Hoseok was in there, right now, watching you. But you couldn’t see him. Your heart beats a little harder in alarm, but you force yourself to keep in the scene, wanting to make the most of this unique experience.

The jingle of metal echoes through the modest theater as Bee checks the stability of the sex swing, and soon enough she’s instructing you to stand up and come stand in front of it. You do so as quickly as possible without running over, so excited about being put up in the swing for her to play with that you can barely stand still.

“Let’s get these panties off first,” she decides, hooking in a finger and snapping the waistband against your hip to make you jump. You push them down before you can secondguess it, and just like that, you’re naked in front of a room full of strangers.

Getting up into the swing would be a little awkward normally, but Bee’s unending charisma and charm makes it feel easy. She holds it steady while you do a little jump to rest your ass onto the flat bed, then gets you to lie down, praising you warmly even as she gives professional advice to the audience.

Lying down is okay - your head hangs a little off the edge, so that your vision is upside down and your neck is arched, but the fabric is surprisingly comfortable so it’s no imposition - but one she slips those loops past your feet, resting them in the crooks of your knees, everything suddenly feels very real.

This is exposure in a very different sense. There’s not much give in the chains for safety, but it means that your thighs are spread wide open with no way to cover yourself.

Bee’s rapport with the crowd watching is a steady stream of reassurance, but by the time she lifts your wrists, using the clips on the chain and the loops on your cuffs to bind them straight up, leaving you entirely vulnerable, your chest begins to heave, breaths quick and shallow.

“Still with me, chickie?” Bee questions, and you let out a choked moan when she circles round to your top half, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between her fingers softly, the contact grounding you. “Give me a colour.”

Remembering Hoseok’s advice, you pause and take a moment to really think it over. “Green, Mistress,” you decide, trembling when she rewards you by sliding her hand down your chest and stomach, two fingers dipping lower to feel how wet you are, stroking your clit. Your back arches, thighs tense, but there’s nowhere you can go to escape the pleasure she gives you. “Th-thank you, Mistress.”

Leaning over you, patting your cheek fondly, Bee beams down at you. “Good girl,” she praises warmly, before glancing out towards the audience. “So well-behaved, isn’t she? Should I give her a quick reward before we continue?”

Your eyes slip shut in bliss as you hear the audience cheer and clap in your favour, imagining one of them to be Hoseok, watching you from below.

After hearing out the crowd, Bee adjusts her position so that instead of up by your head, she’s between your legs, that hand still lazily rubbing over you as the other grips your waist. “Alright, I won’t argue with that,” the domme quips teasingly, and chuckles as you go rigid suddenly when those two fingers plunge inside of you, crooking up to massage your walls.

There’s nothing you can to do move towards or away the touch. The swing has you completely at her mercy, and that just makes every stroke that much more overwhelming. Bee fucks you on her fingers with a swift, unforgiving pace, and you whine as the obscene wet noise echoes throughout the room.

You feel dirty; dripping on stage as your fists wrap around the chains and your pussy tightens around her. But the taboo and debauchery just turns you on more, and the moment she increases to three fingers, you no longer try to hold back or muffle yourself. A loud cry spills from your lips as she presses against your g-spot, and her gleeful chuckle arouses you even more.

The knowledge that an entire roomful of people are watching you is so hot that you feel electric, but it’s the reminder that Hoseok is somewhere amongst them that sends you over the edge. You spasm in the swing as you cum, hard, and Bee doesn’t let up for a moment, taking advantage of your restraints to continue to fuck you through your orgasm, her other hand joining to rub roughly at your clit to make you sob in oversensitivity. It’s not until your toes and fingers tingle with the force of it that she finally slows down, taking her hands off you with a cheery sigh of exertion.

“Thank you, Mistress,” you try to say, though it probably comes out slurred or garbled. You shiver as aftershocks periodically thrum through your veins, making your muscles twitch, and your eyes slip open to the feeling of Bee pressing a chaste kiss of approval to the back of your hand, still bound to the chain.

“Now,” she says, still a little breathless, “onto the main event. One of the more difficult things of…”

Though you try and stay alert, your body is exhausted and satisfied, and the suspension just makes you feel even more floaty than you normally would after a good orgasm. Your mind flits in and out, and you feel at peace until you hear the echoing click click of heels on hard floor, and see the blurry figure of Bee disappearing backstage.

Alarm flares red inside you, making your heart beat overtime and your nerves screech. You wriggle your arms and legs, but there’s no give, and even as you crane your neck to the side, the stage lights prevent you from being able to find your dom in the audience.

There’s no use in trying to stay calm. Even as that clicking returns, Bee already returning to you, you feel unsafe and anxious, the safeword on your tongue.

But it’s not the safeword that comes out when you find your voice. “H-hobi,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as panic flares in your chest.

Before his name has even fully left your lips, there are hands on your shoulder, rough with callouses. There’s the familiar musk that grounds you, and the heat of a body that cradles your head and presses his lips to your temple, cooing sweet nothings to calm you.

Bee’s voice floats around you, apologising profusely not only to you but to the audience too, but as you open your eyes and see Hoseok, his eyes brimming with concern, you burst into tears of pure relief, wishing you could reach out to him.

Like he knows your needs without you even articulating them, he unclips your wrist cuffs from the chains one at a time, slowly helping you sit up as Bee’s hands are on your legs, taking off the loops that had held them spread open earlier.

The moment you’re up, you fall into Hoseok like he’s a lifeline, clinging to him as your tears wet his sleeveless shirt. His skin is hot against yours, and his chest seems to rise and fall faster than normal as he holds you tightly, stroking your hair.

“I’m here,” he chants over and over, the words like liquid comfort cocooning you. The audience slips away, even Bee taking orders from Hoseok on what to go get is tuned out as you lean into that feeling of security that Hoseok’s embrace gives you.

At one point, he wants to move you offstage for some privacy, but your legs won’t stop shaking. Without a word of complaint, he’s lifting you up with one arm under your ass and the other around your back, guiding you to wrap your arms and legs around him.

It’s all too easy to burrow your face into the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent, your heart rate slowing from the spike of adrenaline. By the time his weight shifts, and you feel the smooth, cool leather of a couch beneath you, exhaustion has seeped into your very bones. You barely have enough energy to focus back on his voice, but you force yourself to, blinking blearily as he cups your cheek and meets your gaze.

“I think I know what happened there, what spooked you,” Hoseok says slowly, his eyes deadly serious even as his fingers gently stroke your jaw. “Did you not like not being able to see or touch either of us?” You manage to nod weakly, and Hoseok’s brows furrow in internal guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he apologises hoarsely, “I should’ve warned her before, I should’ve been closer-”

He breaks off as Bee rushes over, face pinched, and hands Hoseok a folded up blanket. The feeling of the soft, yet slightly weighted fabric covering your naked skin feels like heaven, and it calms you just that little bit more.

Hoseok meets your gaze again. “Bee wants to chat to you, princess, to say sorry. Do you want to see her now or talk with her later?”

You feel guilty for saying it, but you just want to selfishly indulge in Hoseok now, no one else. “Later,” you admit, and the domme nods in solemn understanding, bowing her head at the two of you before departing.

“What do you need, Y/n?” Hoseok asks, in a voice so low it could be a whisper. You blink at him, at the deep concern on his face. “What can I do to make you feel okay? To feel safe and calm?”

You know the answer. It’s not something you’d admit normally, not something you’d request were you not feeling so terribly adrift and in need of comfort. You fist your hands in his shirt - wrists still adorned in red cuffs that said you were his - and wet your lips. “Kiss me?”

He pauses long enough that you think he may deny you, but then you feel his chest rumble with the words, “just this once,” before he dips his head and kisses you, slowly and carefully, like you might break. Your heart swells with every slight movement of his lips, but they’re gone all too soon, replaced by your own fingers as you touch your lips in wonder. “Better?” he asks in a strained voice, still stroking your back through the blanket.

“Better,” you reply, though already you miss his lips on yours. But feeling his arms around you, and his heart beat against your ear when you lie down is good enough for you, enough for now.