#i paid a lot to get a real good seat too

[cutie-melon]

just bought a ticket to see ARTMS i'm gonna throw up

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur���s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[all-purpose-dish-soap]

45 / 1.9k / soap soulmate au, part 11

...

Mercenaries can be paid off for just about anything.

So when Price rings your cell phone to propose a trade—Laswell had your number, naturally—Horangi has no qualms with fishing it out of your pocket. You glare at him, but he doesn’t bother giving you anything more than a dry look before he answers it.

You hear Price’s voice from the speaker in Horangi’s ear. "Was wondering what was taking you lot so long."

Horangi sighs. It never ends, apparently. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Just to talk," Price replies. "What's your rate?"

"Come again?" Horangi asks.

"We're all soldiers here. Unfortunate that our mission came at the cost of yours, but we can all walk away happy, hm? I want to make sure you don’t go uncompensated. That’d be a shame."

Horangi scowls, but one of your squadmates in the back seat grips your shoulder and shifts his weight toward the phone in obvious interest.

"What do you have in mind?” Horangi asks.

"First, your rate."

"Too rich for your blood."

"Try me."

Horangi narrows his eyes. Then he shrugs and throws out a number. It's far more money than KorTac’s real fee, but before you can decide whether to say something, Price speaks again.

"We'll double that."

"Will you now?"

"I will. Even pay you all directly if you like. No need to involve the company. Just keep your handler’s cut for yourselves. I won’t say a word," Price says. "That should be good enough, shouldn't it?"

Horangi leans back, tapping the steering wheel in thought, but you can tell he's interested now. "What's the job?"

"Not a job, really. Just a favor. Let us have custody of your songbird, and the money's yours. Make up some story about how she got away or got shot if you need a scapegoat. We’ll turn a blind eye if you prefer. Keep the record nice and clean."

Horangi glances at you. “Songbird’s worth a lot to the company.”

“You’re not the company, now are you? You already did the damn job. You should get paid. You and your team.”

He likes the sound of that. Price's offer turns both of your situations into something everybody can be pleased with. Get the mercs paid for what they lost. They get the girl. Fine by him. He hums in thought. “Cash in hand.”

There’s a beat of silence on Price’s end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cash in hand,” Horangi says again. “Or no deal.”

“Are you sure about that? Wired funds spend just as well as cash.”

“I can afford to be picky, my friend.”

Another long pause. “Is that so?”

“Apologies. I’d be happy to consider your deal if I hadn’t already made a better one with someone else. He’s willing to pay cash.”

“Who?”

Horangi scoffs and ends the call. He tosses your phone into the backseat floorboards and ignores your stare burning into the side of his head. “Don’t worry, rookie,” he tells you. “You know it’s a better deal than you’d get back at base. You’ll thank me one day.”

…

But you don’t make it back to base.

It’s an ambush. A trap—Horangi doesn’t see the charges on either side of the road until it’s too late, and the truck transporting you flips forward onto its roof. One minute, you’re feeling the melted snow in your boots; the next, you’re looking down at the road through the windshield. Then you’re coming to in a haze of gunfire and hoarse voices barking call-and-response orders all around you.

It’s not until your teammates have evacuated the wrecked truck that you attempt to move yourself and do the same. Maybe they plan to come back for you; maybe they think you’re dead. Maybe you are dead. You really fucking hope not. Whatever death has in store for you, it had better not force you to contend with the agonizing pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken glass buried in every second nerve ending.

You push against the seatbelt holding you to the seat, having to twist out of your coat just to slump to the pavement. You’re still ziptied, but you have to move. If whoever laid this ambush finds you, you're done for.

Somehow, all you can think about is Johnny. If he could see you now, he’d never let you hear the end of it. He’d lecture you like a goddamn recruit. You hate how much you want to see his stupid face get angry at you again.

There’s a long lull in the gunfire. Then the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone curses and orders the others to “spread out,” searching for your scattered teammates—for survivors.

Your teammates aren’t coming. You’re on your own.

Then you remember Price’s call and Horangi swiping your phone from your pocket.

Desperately, you shoulder your way back into the wreckage. Somehow, you find it. The screen is cracked, but it still lights up when you wrestle your bound wrists under your feet and touch the screen. Thank Christ. You redial Price's number from the call log.

He picks up on the first ring. "Go for Price."

"I need to talk to Johnny."

There's a moment of crackling silence through the line. Then: "Soap's tied up at the moment. What's going on?"

"I don't know. Ambush. The car flipped." You wince, feeling broken glass cut into your shoulder. The slushy pavement under you is turning ruddy. Oh, that’s your blood. "It's bad."

Price swears under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Near the base of the mountain. In the side. There's a... a lot of trees. Twenty hostiles. I think. I can't see."

"Stay put. We'll find you. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

"I want to talk to Johnny."

"For God’s sake. You can talk to him in person when we find you. Just sit tight."

"Let me talk to my goddamn soulmate," you hiss. You put as much venom into your voice as you can, but even you hear how weak you sound.

Price says something away from the speaker you can't quite make out. There's shuffling and then another familiar voice picks up, low and gruff, and tinged with a Scottish burr.

"Hen?"

The wave of relief that sweeps through you renders you mute for a second.

That makes the worry in his tone swell. “You okay? They hurt you?"

The concern in his voice has your throat tightening. Dammit.

Before you can reply, there's another burst of gunfire and a hostile voice much too close by for comfort. You grab the phone and edge your way further into the tenuous safety of the wreckage. You clutch the phone in your hands, barely clocking the glass screen digging into your palm.

The sound of your voice cutting out over the line triggers Soap’s anxiety all over again. He curses up a storm on the other end, his voice rising with every word and the urgency in his tone growing as he calls you by name.

You hear more footfalls, but whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you. You've not been gunned down yet, at least. You need to find somewhere safer.

Peering around the wreckage, you look for somewhere else you can hide. The tree line is close. You don't know how long you'll last in the snow no matter what, especially without your coat—but cold cover is safer than none. Staying under a leaking, gasoline-filled truck carcass isn’t a good long-term plan.

Soap’s voice rises over the line. "Dammit, say somethin'!"

Finally you do. "Johnny?"

"Jesus." Soap closes his eyes, hoping like hell he's not about to hear you get shot, or captured, or worse. He can already tell by the rough sound of your voice that he's not going to like what you say next. "I'm here," he says quickly, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. "Where are ya?"

"I’m an idiot. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about..." You let out a harsh sigh. "You. Just wanted to tell you that."

It suddenly feels like there's a block of ice lodged in Soap’s chest. "That a goodbye, darlin'?" he says.

"I'm doing my goddamn best. Alright?"

"That’s a sorry fuckin’ excuse. You’re aways doing your best," Soap snaps. An ugly, hard thread of bitterness creeps into his tone. "Trouble is you always choose the worst way of goin’ about it. I’m not lettin' you go like this.”

"I know it's my fault," you retort. "Okay? I should've listened to you. Are you happy to hear me fucking say it?"

"Does it look like that's gonna fix things?" Soap’s voice rises with every word now. His temper is frayed at the edges. "No, I'm not bloody happy. I don't want apologies. I don't want some grand realization. I just want you to survive. You're damn right you fucked up. And you've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, so you'd best stay alive. You hear me?"

You swallow, clutching the phone tighter in your hands.

"Answer me."

"I'll try."

"No. You'll do," Soap says in a voice that brooks no argument. His voice drops low again, but the anger is still there. "You will make it back to me. You'll do whatever it takes. You don't get to leave me alone after all the trouble you gave me. I'll not hear one more sorry excuse."

God. You want him so bad it hurts. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pain of the glass in your skin and your dislocated shoulder to sharpen your focus. "Fine."

"That's my girl." The words come out rough, heated, and tinged with something like pride. "You just stay put," he says. "We'll find you."

You tense as another set of voices raise in aggravation nearby. The longer you stay here, the greater the chance you'll be seen. "I have to go," you say lowly into the phone. "Need better cover."

"Stay on the line," he says quickly. "Do not hang up. Hen!"

You bring your ziptied wrists down hard on the edge of your boot—and again, and again, pain radiating up your arm—until it finally snaps.

With your hands free, you pull yourself out from under the wreckage and away, leaving Soap on the line to hear nothing but shouting and gunshots.

Soap listens through the phone, biting down hard on the curse that threatens to tear free. He can't lose you. He's going crazy imagining the worst right now. His mind is all too happy to cycle through a parade of gory images. No. No, you can't go, not like this.

He'd give anything to be a knife on your belt right now. A bullet in your gun. Anything but this—this utter fucking helplessness. He can’t do anything but sit on the other end of a line and listen. It's torture.

Even with Price at the wheel, racing all of them toward the bottom of the mountain.

"We'll make it, Soap," is all Price says.

Soap nods, but he barely hears it. All he can listen to is the sound of gunfire through the phone and the cold, visceral rage in the pit of his stomach. He'll claw his way to you with his bare hands if he has to. It doesn’t matter how much blood and sweat it costs him to get you back. You’d better keep your word and stay alive to make it up to him.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / [part 11] / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[aestas---estas]

Loving Hands

MDNI 18+ | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~2,9 k words | fem!reader, vaginal fingering, choking/breathplay, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it in real life folks), lots of dirty talk, cuddling and aftercare | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me | Read on AO3

“I want you to choke me tonight.” Your voice rings out through the otherwise quiet room.

You and Simon had been having a comfortable evening in your shared flat. He was in between deployments at the moment and it had been great having him back home. To you, he was the sweetest man alive. You knew the broad strokes of what he did when he wasn't home, knew he killed people, probably tortured them too, but he never let that side take over or rear its head in your proximity — the worst of it, if you want to call it that, came when he got jealous and protective. And oh, how you loved his protectiveness.

Simon brought you flowers, paid for dinner on your dates, opened doors, helped you over puddles in the streets; he was the perfect gentleman. Simon was also a master at following orders. Hence the request you just threw his way as you were watching him wash dishes from your seat perched on the counter.

“Yeah?” Simon asked, an amused smile pulling at his lips as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah,” you reiterate, plucking the plate he had just finished rinsing to dry it. “Not too hard, nothing that will leave marks, but I wanna feel that floaty feeling. I also want praise tonight; tell me I'm good, tell me how it feels, talk me through it.”

“Alright,” Simon answers with a nod, draining the water from the sink, shaking his hands to dry them, making droplets of water hit your arms and face.

You giggle at his antics, wiping the water away from your skin before pressing a soft kiss to the side of his face.

It had taken some getting used to, making your wants and needs in the bedroom known. Before Simon, most of your lovers had been selfish, and the few times you had voiced your kinks they had been shut down or executed so poorly you didn't want to voice them anymore. But Simon thrived with clear instructions. Praise me, degrade me, use me, worship me. So long as he knew what you wanted him to do, he was more than willing to make your wishes come true.

It’s a few hours later, with Simon spreading his legs wide on the sofa, you tucked close under his arm, the TV playing some rerun of an old show you’ve both seen more times than you can count, that he brings it up again.

“Now, love? Or later in bed?” His hand is slowly stroking up and down your arm, nothing overtly sexual but no less intimate nonetheless.

You hadn’t even thought about having sex in the livingroom, had assumed he’d take your instructions from before and utilize them once you’d both gotten ready for bed. But you can’t deny the way your stomach heats and flutters in that all too familiar way.

“I wouldn’t mind now,” you confess, feeling your face heat under Simon’s intense stare. He’s always had a staring problem, never letting you out of his sight more than necessary, and if you ever were to find yourself not right by his side, you could always feel his gaze on you, making you feel safe.

Simon hums his understanding, a sound that vibrates through his strong chest, before redirecting his eyes to the TV; his fingers still wandering up and down your arm softly. You know his focus is entirely on you, on your reactions, even if he is acting like it isn’t, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together for a brief moment of relief. You hadn’t been particularly horny, but just knowing that you’re going to get fucked just the way you want, has arousal already pooling in the juncture between your legs.

“You’re always so soft,” Simon murmurs, dropping his face to the top of your head, practically nuzzling you. You smile but say nothing, just lets him voice his thoughts. “Smell fucking amazing too. Can’t believe you’re all mine sometimes.”

You want to echo his sentiment, say that he’s all yours too, that you feel just as lucky as he does, but his hand has dropped from your arm to your thigh, squeezing and massaging your flesh in the way he knows you love.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He punctuates the statement with a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers slipping dangerously close to where you want them — where you need them. The way he pushes your legs apart isn’t rough, but it could never be described as gentle either, and when his hand dips below the waistband of your sweats you don’t suppress the moan of anticipation that leaves your throat. “Eager one, aren’t you?”

He’s teasing you, both with his words and the way his fingers run up and down your slit — inside your pants, but not yet inside your underwear. You don’t answer verbally, already melting against him, giving in to the pleasure you know is coming, only nodding lazily as your eyes slip shut.

You can hear the smirk in Simon’s voice as he speaks again. “That’s it, just let go and let me take care of you, love.” He presses down a little firmer, rubbing tight, slow circles around your clit and relishes in the way you tense your thighs in preparation; you want to grind yourself against his touch, he knows it, you know it, and it takes all your willpower to not give in.

“Please, Simon,” you whine, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, opening your neck up for him to plant open mouthed kisses on. Not one to let his love go unsatisfied, Simon leans down to trace your weak spots with his lips, making your pulse flutter and your breath hitch under his ministrations.

“Sound so pretty when you whine and beg,” he says against your skin and finally, finally, slips his fingers into your underwear. “Already so wet for me, love.” He drags the digits through your folds, gathering some of the slick to smear over your clit. His touch is gentle but precise, he knows just how you like it and is intent on making you enjoy yourself.

“Choke me,” you beg, a reminder about what you're expecting, about what started this whole thing in the first place.

“Patience,” Simon mumbles against the length of your throat, his fingers pressing down just enough to be uncomfortable before going back to the toe curling circles.

He plants more kisses along your heated skin, sucks gently at your pulse point in a way that drags an embarrassingly loud moan from your throat. The TV is still on, but whatever was playing on it got drowned out by the noises of Simon's fingers gliding through your wetness and your panting breaths. 

It's Simon that groans when he finally slips two fingers inside. “Fuck you're wet.”

You nod lazily, clenching around his digits, already practically humping against his hand — you love it, love him, you need more.

“Only for you,” you manage to say and you can feel his lips quirk up in a smirk against your shoulder.

You beg for him to go faster, and ever the obedient soldier, Simon does; pulling moans and whimpers from you until you're nothing but a wet, panting mess on the couch.

“Doing so good for me, love,” he says before moving his free hand to wrap around your throat. It's not unexpected, but it catches you by surprise nonetheless; you had been so wrapped up in his pumping fingers, so focused on chasing the pleasure he was providing. 

“Fuck,” Simon groans again, teeth scraping the shell of your ear. “You like that, huh? Go on, cum on my fingers, love.”

His palm presses against your clit, his fingers never slowing their constant in and out, and you hump needily against him. It's when he curls his digits just right to rub against that spongy spot inside and tightens his hand to constrict your airflow just enough to make your mind float, that you explode. White hot pleasure shoots through your limbs, your back arching, eyes squeezing shut as you rut against him and cum with his name spilling from your lips.

The hand around your throat eases and you have to take a moment to catch your breath. When you finally turn your head enough to blink up at him, Simon is cleaning your slick off his fingers, eyes closed as he indulges in the taste of you. The sight sends another bolt of excitement through you, making you squeeze your thighs together. 

“More,” you say, already swinging your legs over his to straddle his thick thighs, hands searching for the hem of his shirt to pull it up and off. 

Simon chuckles but lets you undress him. It takes some combined effort to remove his jeans without getting up from the couch, but you’re both hellbent on not losing the contact between your bodies.

“You want to be on top, love?” He asks, voice low and practically dripping with arousal. His words vibrate through his chest and it makes you grind down on the obvious bulge in his boxers.

You turn it over in your mind; the idea of being on top, of being the one more in control. But ultimately you shake your head in the negative. Tonight was a night for submission, for letting Simon play your body like an instrument, for letting go and giving in. 

With strength that always seems to surprise you, he grabs hold of your thighs, rough fingers digging into plush flesh, and flips the two of you over on the couch.

“So fucking pretty like this,” Simon murmurs, placing soft, wet kisses on the length of your throat, nudging at the neckline of the shirt you wore — one of his, Riley stamped across the back. It made him crazy every time he saw you in it. “All worked up, so needy for more.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice enough with words, head already scrambled with pleasure and anticipation.

“So wet and ready for me.” He keeps sweet-talking you, breath fanning over your skin, hands wandering up and down your body until your clothes are laying in a pile on the floor and his hips are slotted between your spread legs. 

“Simon,” you whine, fingers digging into his muscular back, hips lifting from the couch in search of friction. 

And he has the gall to laugh, a deep chuckle that makes molten hot desire pool in your guts. You're just about ready to explode, to beg for him to just fuck you already, when he ruts against your sopping cunt, the head of his cock nudging against your clit.

“Aching for it, aren't you? Naughty girl,” he says, rubbing his cock up and your folds, coating himself in your wetness before slipping just the first inch inside. It's a stretch, it always is, but you crave more.

Simon mouths his way up your neck, finding your lips and kisses you dizzy. He swallows your moan as he sinks in, filling you up in a way that always makes you ache just slightly.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, his hips unmoving as the two of you just bask in the feeling of being connected so intimately. 

A few more kisses get exchanged, lazy and languid, all lips and tongues and deep moans, but before long you're aching for more.

“Move,” you demand between kisses, hands roaming the vastness of his broad back before coming to rest on his ass, pushing just enough to give him an incentive to follow orders. 

He's slow about it, mean even, pulling out until just the head is lodged inside before pushing back in. And when you thrust up against him in an attempt to make him move faster and deeper, Simon grips your hips and keeps you pinned down against the couch. 

“Just stay still for me. ‘M gonna make it so good for you, but you have to be a good girl and do as you're told,” he says and a whine passes your lips as you struggle against all the feelings bubbling up inside your chest. It's not just the physical pleasure, it's the emotional intimacy and just everything — you're so goddamn in love with this man it makes you want to explode.

Simon's next move is less of a roll of his hips and more of a snap, slamming his cock inside in a way that nearly punches all the air from your lungs. One of his hands moves from their position to keep you still to instead lock around your throat.

“This what you wanted?” He asks, a quick check in to make sure you're okay before anything threatens to spiral out of control. You had asked for choking, but he needed to make sure anyway.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding as best as you can with the limited movement your head is given.

And that's all Simon needs to hear, fingers constricting over your throat as he fucks you right there on the couch; other hand still on your hip, making sure you lay still and let him take care of you.

“Feel so good ‘round me, love. So fucking good,” he groans, so low and deep it could nearly count as a growl, punctuating every word with a punching thrust.

Gasps and moans and the filthy, wet sounds of Simon's cock slamming into your cunt fills the room, and the pleasure is all you can focus on.

Your heels dig into the back of his thighs, your chest heaving and you swear you're probably drooling with how your mouth hangs open.

“Such a good fucking girl. Taking my cock so well.” Most of what Simon is mumbling gets lost in the grunts he makes, but just the sound of his voice gets you closer to the edge.

He keeps whispering sweet nothings and filthy words, but it's when he thumbs at your clit that's your undoing. Just a few quick, hard circles around that bundle of nerves has you careening towards ecstasy and your legs constrict around his middle as he fucks you through the orgasm.

“That's it,” Simon growls as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, the hand on your throat squeezing just enough to make you feel light headed. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Your climax ebbs and flows, a tidal wave of dizzying pleasure that the oxygen deprivation only seems to add to. A garbled noise leaves your throat and it's enough of a tell for Simon to ease his grip on you. 

“‘M gonna cum. Where do you want it?” His hips are still snapping against yours, cock racing in and out of your weeping cunt and it takes a few moments as you catch your breath before you manage to register it's no longer rhythmic. 

“Where you want it, love?” Simon repeats through gritted teeth, thighs flexing and relaxing with every thrust. 

“Inside,” you manage to gasp, fingernails digging into his shoulders, red half moons denting his skin.

“Fuck, fuck!” He groans, spilling inside of you as your inner walls all but milk him dry.

He collapses on top of you, face buried between your neck and shoulder, breath heavy and hot on your skin as you both bask in the afterglow of your shared orgasms. His lips find your pulse point again, just a chaste kiss, but it still sends a shiver through your body.

“No,” you complain when he moves to get off you, cradling his head as you pet his hair.

“Not going far,” Simon promises, hissing from the overstimulation as he slips his softening cock out of your wet heat. “Gotta clean up.”

You make a whining noise of complaint but let him go nonetheless. You make yourself comfortable on the couch, following Simon’s movements with your ears as he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You can hear the water of the faucet turn on, then off, and then he’s back by your side with a damp towel and a glass of water.

“Drink,” he says, shoving the glass into your hand before carefully swiping the towel between your legs to clean off any excess cum. He settles in beside you, tucks you in close to his side, presses a kiss to the top of your head and throws the blanket that had been draped over the couch’s back across both of you.

“You okay?” He asks. Always making sure. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m perfect,” you answer, smiling up at him before craning your neck to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Me too.”

You don’t remember falling asleep, don’t remember making your way to the bedroom, but when you wake in the middle of the night there’s a soft mattress underneath you and a fluffy goose down duvet over your body with Simon’s arm slung across your middle and his warm chest pressed tightly against your back. He’s snoring softly behind you and the rhythmic beat of his heart lulls you back to sleep.

--- Masterlist

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[jarofstyles]

Put Your Records On

This is a little thing I came up with at 2 am and kept writing till 5 lol. It's pop star y/n x rock star H. I don't do a lot of canon H and some things are changed/ don't fit into the real one but that's on purpose. Part two will be up very soon!

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 170+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.2k

Warnings- dirty talk, mention of bullying (Brief)

She saw him from across the room- well, more like felt him. The room had a buzz in it that it hadn’t before.

It was common knowledge that he was going to be there. One of his best friends was hosting the after party for the BRIT awards, and she had been lucky enough to be invited considering her manager had been friends with the group for a while. Actually, it was a bit shocking that she’d never met the man considering how close their circles ran. She’d met a lot of his management and production team, even a few members of his band- but never the man himself. 

It was her second year after making it big on the music scene but her entire life, she’d been working towards this. School musicals, voice lessons, guitar and piano lessons, music had become her flesh and blood and she was determined to make it her bread and fucking butter. She’d been blessed with her voice and a talent like hers wasn’t one to waste, that’s what her parents had said as she grew up- and it had all paid off. She went home with Best New Artist and was coming down on the buzzing high of another huge accomplishment of her career. 

Harry was infamous, at the top of the damn world and everyone knew his name. He was just about to hop back on tour, one Y/N had been invited to attend by his manager himself. It seemed like today was the day they would finally meet in person, and judging by the recognition in his eye, he had heard about her too. 

God, that made her want to vomit. Growing up she’d been a casual fan of his band, been to a few shows even after scraping together enough money for a ticket along with her best friend. Said friend was lost somewhere in the room and Y/N knew she had a knack for awful timing, but as the man got closer to her she felt her insides begin to bubble. She wasn’t one to get starstruck super easily, thank god, but it was hard not to feel intimidated as he approached her. A black blazer with a very sheer pink blouse underneath, pants tight on the thighs and flared at the calves, necklaces hanging in a thatch of thin chest hair, she’d felt her mouth dry as his smile was given directly to her. Someone she’d grown up singing to in her bedroom, right into her hairbrush, was grinning at her like she was someone important. 

“So we finally meet.” Harry reached his hand out to shake hers. Clunky rings covered the digits as her own took them, shaking his warm hand with her own smile on her face. She’d been on stage in front of tens of thousands of people, and yet he was a bit more intimidating. Still she was going to do her best to use her brief acting skills and pretend her heart wasn’t in her throat. “I’ve heard so much about you- your album’s fucking brilliant.”

He was tipsy, she could see that much. His eyes were slightly hooded and he had a looser demeanor than he had seated at the table ahead of her at the awards show. Good for him. It wasn’t likely that he did this too much. It was well known that he wasn’t much for drinking during his working season and he’d won two awards! That called for drinks all around. 

What took her off guard, though, was the fact that he’d listened to her album. He listened and he had said it was good? Her cheeks heated as she realized he was still holding her hand, gently letting it fall as he took a step closer. It was a little loud out there but not too bad if you were close enough. “You think so? I’m hoping it’s all good things.” She let out a laugh she hoped sounded natural, adjusting her hair. The girl had always been one to fuss with her clothes when she was nervous but hopefully he didn’t realize that. “So is yours. Got quite a few on my playlists.” 

“Yeah?” His smile grew bigger. “Which ones?” Y/N felt the lump in her throat as she tried not to think about how good he smelled. It was so creepy, noticing that. There was a faint hint of tobacco and the tiniest bit of alcohol, but he smelled really warm. Cuddly, in a way. It made sense in her brain, but she was also a drink in at this point. 

“Mmm, I have a few from other albums but from the latest? Satellite, that’s the go to for the gym for me… Late Night Talking, very relatable for me. Erm… Boyfriends, unfortunately.” She saw him give a playful wince. “Yeah, men are shit- no offence. And then I’d say Daydreaming is a personal favorite. As It Was was brilliant, obviously, but Daydreaming is my favorite.” It felt like maybe she word-vomited a little but he’d listened to every word, seeming pleased with her answers. 

“Daydreaming isn’t one I hear of being a favorite, usually. M’chuffed that it’s yours.” He genuinely seemed happy about it. “I really liked the closing track of your album- it’s so rare to find albums that tell a story, that are thoughtfully laid out, at least at this point in time. I love to listen from front to back and it was laid out perfectly. Usually m’a bit of a snob and would have some critiques but you nailed it.” 

Y/N preened. It wasn’t a compliment she got often and it shocked her because that meant he’d really listened. Really paid attention to her music and took time with her album. It was extremely flattering. Surreal, really. Who could have told 15 year old Y/N that Harry would be a fan of her fucking music? She’d probably pass the fuck out. “I’m shocked you got that, but thank you. Yeah, I did the same thing growing up. It was my favorite part of music I’d find, seeing how stuff flowed together. Top to bottom and then bottom to top, then I can shuffle.” It was said in a slightly joking tone but she was fully serious. 

“You get it, Y/N.” He reached out to nudge her shoulder. “I’ve been trying to meet you for a bit but my schedule’s been hectic. Thought it wouldn’t be since we’ve been going for a bit now but tour prep… can be brutal, y’know?” 

Y/N did know, but on a minuscule scale compared to what his tour probably entailed. He was doing stadiums, for god’s sake! Y/N’s arena tour sold out quickly, but there was a huge size difference in where they were. Hopefully she’d reach his level one day. “I do, I do. It’s not a big deal, I didn’t think you were avoiding me or anything.” For a bit she did, but that was wiped away when she’d realized he released the tour dates. It had been months of almost meetings but she had faith in the universe. When it was meant to happen, it would. 

“God no, I was excited to. Did y’want to come sit with us over there?” He motioned to the private area she was allowed into but not been brave enough to venture to quite yet. 

“Sure, that would be nice.” Y/N hadn’t expected to be invited to sit with him personally, let alone feel his hand on her back as he led them through the crowd of people in the room. The star said hellos as he walked through but somehow had mastered the art of saying hi without being caught into a conversation without seeming rude. That was a skill she sure as hell was envious of.

His hand was really fucking warm. She could feel slight calluses on his fingertips, in true musician fashion, but they weren’t as rough as one would originally expect. Her backless dress did her no favors in hiding the warmth and how nice and comforting his touch felt, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank or scowl at her stylist. It wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the dress they’d pulled for the carpet, thankfully this dress was a slinky, emerald green one with room for her legs to actually move. Her updo had been taken down to a mess of curls that nearly reached where his hands were- the power of extensions. As heavy as her head felt, she couldn’t deny that she felt exceptionally beautiful. Thank god the universe had chosen today to meet Harry. 

“Finally!” Sarah sighed. “I’ve been waiting for you two to meet for ages. Come sit.” The woman had always been very sweet, even more sweet with a few drinks in her. Saying her hellos to the familiar people, she felt Harry sit himself next to her in the booth and immediately drinks were brought over. So this is why it was VIP. It was a lemon drop, something Y/N did happen to like. Harry handing her one before taking his own was unexpected but very appreciated, a gentle thank you exchanged as he settled back next to her. 

It was unreal to be here. To be sat at a table of friendly but insanely successful people, feel like part of the ‘in’ crowd, it had completely blindsided her. This was the sort of thing that she’d always thought about when she was in her bed at home as a teenager, hoping one day to rub elbows with the people she once admired so much they had space on her bedroom wall, and here it was. Someone who’s face was on her favorite bedtime tee shirt (Those merch shirts were expensive and she wasn’t about to get rid of it because a member was now in her circle). 

“Y/N, did you know that H added some of your songs to the preshow playlist in his dressing room?” Sarah hummed. 

“You did?” The girl gasped as she looked at him. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she saw a bit of a pink glint to his cheeks. Maybe it was the alcohol. 

“He did, and he’s been raving about it to Mitch. Sometimes he’s singing it when we pass, that one song about the… what’s it called? The Raven? Some sort of bird.” 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Mitch had to laugh at her airing a bit of Harry’s business, but she was a chatterbox when she was drunk. 

“That’s so nice!” Y/N said shyly. “You’re on mine too, actually. The dressing room for me and the one the fans listen to, I can hear them sing it from backstage.”

Harry’s leg was pressed into hers so she didn’t have to turn far to look at him, watching him finish his drink as he nodded. “I do, yeah. Told you I liked your music. I meant it.”

“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t mention it. That’s why when he met that girl earlier he just said it was nice to meet-” Sarah was cut off by her husband asking her if she wanted to see something on his phone, putting Harry out of his misery. 

“M’not an ass.” He groaned. “I just didn’t vibe with the album, y’know? I won’t say things I don’t mean but that doesn’t mean I can’t be polite.”

“Agree, 100%. It’s easy when it’s just a taste thing, but I’ve found it harder with people I’ve seen or heard talk bad about me and it’s confirmed. Dunno how you’re able to do that.” Y/N struggled to not show her nerves or distaste of people sometimes and it was something she was constantly working on. Her best friend often had to tell her to adjust her facial expressions and she’d even gone viral once for a ‘stink face’ she’d made at someone. It was accidental of course, but it’d also caused one of her first big waves of hate. 

“It’s not easy, and anyone who says so is lying.” Harry confirmed. “It’s taken me years. Said something about pussy on tv not realizing the cameras could see, so It’s trial and error.” The joke had the both of them laughing, Y/N not divulging that she indeed already knew that. “I think it’s important to just remember they’re humans and probably just as nervous t’see you. It’s just a short interaction and you can move on quickly. I also think working out, yoga, all of that helps a lot with my inner calm. It isn’t easy, like I said, but you’re also in the beginnings of your career in this sort of light. I’ve got no doubt that you’ll be able to have a good poker face by the end of the year.”

“God, I love that song.” Y/N sighed. “Poker face, loved that one I mean. But thank you. I really do appreciate the advice. I was terrified coming tonight. The award shows are much scarier than your own gigs.” 

“Oh, definitely.” Harry whistled, taking another drink from the tray and handing a fresh one to her. “S’like, you know the people who go to your shows are there for you. It’s like a little family get together, it’s safer. Those people love you enough t’buy a ticket, travel got knows how long, wears a shirt with your face on it. It’s mental to think about but incredible. These things?” He motioned around the room. “All marketing and partying, but more drama. S’crazy how many people have slept with each other in this room.” Harry realized a bit too late that he’d said too much but thankfully Y/N just giggled in agreement. “You seem to take to it quite well though. Not to sound weird but I saw you accept your awards and socialize a bit here, you’ve probably got the whole room fooled.”

That was a relief and a compliment in her opinion. The goal was to make sure no one sensed the weakness. Unfortunately she’d learned early on that these people could sniff it out like a shark in bloodied water. “That’s the goal.” She replied, leaning back into the seat. Her back was killing her from the bloody heels on her feet and how tight her other dress was, so it was a relief to have this reprieve from them sitting here. 

“So tell me about your tour then. What’s going on with that?”

—-----------

Y/N was drunk. Certifiably hammered. She had one too many lemon drops and apparently, so did Harry. Some of the people had vacated the booth and it left them alone as they talked amongst themselves. With the aid of the liquid courage, she wasn’t losing her mind over how close they were. Sure, her heart was still going a million miles a minute, but that was due to his fingers fiddling with the strap of her dress. Harry was, evidently, a touchy drunk. Clingy. He’d even followed her to the bathroom and waited for her outside before they’d returned. 

In all honesty, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t believe all of this in the morning. That Harry had ignored everyone else in favor of talking to her, tucked away in VIP at a round table, his body closer than it needed to be considering the space. They’d talked about a lot of industry things, but more so the fun and personal. She told him about her collection of band tee shirts and admitting to not having listened to all the bands she wore, but he didn’t judge her for it. Said he went through a phase of doing the same while in the band. She told him about her cat, a Siamese named Simon and he’d cooed over photos on her phone about how cute he’d looked with his collar that had a little flower on it. So many topics were covered, so many things discussed in the last two hours that she felt like she was getting a handle on who he was. 

Though this many drinks, it was bleeding into oversharing.

“Your ex was at the awards?” He asked, eyes slightly red but widening as she dropped the tidbit.

“Yep.” The p in the word was exaggerated with a pop of her lips and an eye roll. “Note to you for the future, don’t fuck anyone involved in your production team. Makes for a nasty breakup and a lot of rude ‘inside sources’ with the press.” Her lips flattened. “And he couldn’t even make me finish, so. Fuck him.”

Harry’s eyes widened further before he groaned, his head dropping to the side onto the leather booth seat. “No, not that, Y/N. C’mon.” He seemed a bit distraught. “It’s always those guys that make your life hell, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I did learn that a bit early on.” He seemed to remember it but she didn’t ask. If he didn’t divulge it, she wasn’t going to pry. “You got the shit end of the stick. It’s one of my embarrassments being a male. Y’don’t have to be a rocket scientist to learn how to pleasure a woman.”

“You’d think.” She scoffed. “Swear, men in LA don’t know how to use any of their appendages. Used like a human fleshlight so I stopped hooking up with people. It got discouraging after the fifth time I left. Not a single one know where the clit is.” It was an unfortunate truth. Maybe she was looking in the wrong places or had a string of bad luck, but she’d been voluntarily celibate because of it. “Doubt you know what m’talking about, Mr Watermelon Sugar.”

Y/N realized her internal thought had become an external one when he broke out into his own giggles, her face heating. She’d definitely not meant for that to be said out loud, but thankfully he didn’t seem offended. It was the truth anyways, any man who loved pleasuring a woman so much that he wrote a whole song about it had to know what he was doing.

As his giggles came down, he replied. “Well, I’d like t’think I do. I…” He swallowed. “Know we just met, but overshare?” Scooting closer, he watched her nod. “I think I get off more on getting other people off, if that makes sense. Like, making someone feel good. I dunno if it’s some sort of ego thing, but I enjoy it a lot. Being the cause of pleasure. Think it probably ties in to a bit of a praise kink I’ve got, but it’s the truth.” 

Y/N had never thought she’d get into this sort of conversation with the man, let alone in a dark corner at the BRITs afterparty, but she wasn’t about to complain. “So it’s true then?” She rose an eyebrow. “You really love eating pussy?” Drunk Y/N had officially taken over. A bit of a drunk, horny Y/N she’d been trying to repress. In the morning she would be mortified that she asked that, but right now she was genuinely curious. 

“I do.” He smirked. “I dunno there’s just something about it. Being the one to make someone gasp. When it feels so good they try and push and pull you at the same time. Love the taste, love t’hear the noises. Maybe it’s a little arrogant of me but your name sounds better when it’s said with pleasure, don’t you think?” 

Y/N should have known better than to ask. Harry was a very attractive, alluring man, he was close to her and smelled so fucking good and god damn it, she was already horny. Her cunt throbbed and she knew she was going to have a wet patch in her thong when she left, but she was a glutton for punishment. “I do. I like giving for the same reason.” She admitted. “I’ve always had a lack of gag reflex so, it’s made it easier for me than other people probably have it.”

Harry’s interest seemed to be stroked, fingers brushing over her bare neck as she spoke. It was hard to concentrate here, with him so close. But Y/N always did like to be a bit of a tease, brushing the tip of her foot over the back of his leg. Maybe they were playing a dangerous game talking about this, but no one else was around. She didn’t fall back when his head dipped slightly, getting closer than necessary. “Look at us then. What a pair.” 

“I know. You’re just bold enough to write a whole song about it.” Her finger poked him playfully in the chest. 

“M’not apologetic about it. A woman’s pleasure is important and often overlooked. Makes me sad that no one’s made you feel good in that long. I hope you’re taking care of yourself at the very least.” Oh, she was. And she would be when she got back to her hotel tonight. Thank god for the suction vibrators. 

“I do, but it’s not the same as having someone else do it for you.” Her drunk self told her it as a good idea to pout, trying not to breath too hard as his fingers caressed the nape of her neck. “Sometimes I just miss the touch of another human, you know? Even innocent touches but, there’s nothing like being fucked so hard you feel it the next day. Feels like it’s impossible to find it anymore.” 

“It’s not.” He replied. Eyes were staring into her own. “You’re fucking stunning. Especially tonight, you could pull anyone in the room.” Gaze dipped down to her cleavage, not hiding that he was looking. Heat that had been bubbling in her stomach spread through the rest of her body, his touch igniting a bit of a spark. 

“Anyone?” Her head tilted to the side. The tension had been growing a bit with the two of them but now it was thick in the air. There was no denying that there was an attraction between them but it was palpable now. “So if I wanted to, I could pull you?” Y/N had no idea if he was even available for anything right now. It wasn't’ a smart idea considering how closely they worked near each other, but right now all she could think about was the fact that she had full confidence that Harry could give her the feelings that she wanted- the fuck she needed. 

“Absolutely. M’hanging on by a thread here.” His voice deepened, face far closer to hers than should be appropriate for two people who just met. “I’ve been trying to be a gentleman all night. M’a bit of a slut sometimes but hookups aren’t usually my thing. Was trying to figure out a way to ask you out but, I’ve been a little nervous.” Fingers curled around the back of her neck as their noses brushed. ‘But fuck it, right?” Warm breaths puffed against each others, leaving the ball in Y/N’s court. 

“Fuck it.” 

Harry took that and ran. Lips pressed against hers as he cradled her neck, angling her how he wanted while he slowly kissed her. It was shockingly intimate despite the setting, smooth, soft lips sucking lightly against hers. There was no sign of stopping as her mouth opened for him, letting their tongue brush and the heat rise between them. His body angled slightly to cover hers from view, he let out a low groan in his throat as her hand raised to his hair. It was soft and a bit long for him as of late, but it felt good between her fingers. His other hand held the side of her face, so gentle but solid that she knew she’d give into any of his demands. 

The party raged on behind them but they got lost in the kisses, one turning to three, turning to ten and they hardly came up for air. There was no doubt her makeup was going to be fucked up, that her lipstick was done for, but there was no better way to ruin it. “Y’taste so sweet.” Harry’s words were whispered against her swelling lips. “And you smell so good. Been driving me a bit crazy. Wanted to meet you for ages cause I knew we’d get on… but didn’t think we’d get on this well.” He chuckled into the kiss, squeezing the back of her neck and making her melt slightly into him. “Hoped for it, though.” 

“You did?” Her own voice was breathless as she tried to catch up to his kisses.. It was hard not to get butterflies when he hummed in agreement. Harry had been excited to meet her. “Had a little crush, did you?” The statement was fully meant to be a tease, but he agreed. 

“Suppose I did.”

[msfantasy-comics]

Teen Three and Intruder Billy Batson

Platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Jon Kent x Platonic!Billy Batson

Summary: Damian and Jon can’t help but notice their best friend is distracted with the new commer. Shenanigans ensues.

Warning: No Romance here.

“And they posted ANOTHER Tik Tok! Can you believe that?!” Damian rants as Jon pours himself another bowl of cereal.

“Uh-huh.” He reply’s, hoping Damian will realise how ridiculous he sounds.

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we aren’t even friends anymore. Like she’s forgotten us and we are the background characters!” Damian continues making Jon roll his eyes in silence. “Did you just roll your eyes at me Kent?! This is serious! Look at her account, they already have 11 videos together, isn’t that just weird?!”

Jon mutters an agreeable hum now rinsing his bowl in the sink. “That’s cool Dames, thanks for calling me just to talk about Y/n and Billy for…” Jon taps his phone screen and sees the video call timer showing 56 minutes. “An hour…”

“Don’t call me Dames! And it’s been 56 minutes Kent. Perhaps summer school is in your future.” Jon groans at Damians semantics. “I’ll come pick you up, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Wait what?” Jon sputters as he rechecks the video call to see Damian sitting in a bat ship. “Dude, no, I have to help my mom with the farm.”

“TT, you should’ve told me that before I got in the batship! It’s too late, I’m coming over, picking you up and we are going to Y/n’s house to film Tik Toks to show that intruder who her real friends are.”

Opening the front door you see non-other the Damian standing with a glare and Jon standing sheepishly on your families front porch. “Dames, Jon? I wasn’t expecting to see you guys.” You announce surprised, waving them through to the lounge room where the intruder is found lounging, as if this was normal, as if he was here regularly.

“Batson.” Damian greets coldly, his nose turned up.

“Bat’s son.” Billy greets with a grinning smirk at Damian’s expression. “Jon! Good to see you man! It’s been so long!” Billy greets enthusiastically pulling Jon into a quick hug.

“Like wise.” He reply’s before pulling back and taking a seat next to Damian, avoiding his unspoken accusatory stare.

“Enough fratinising with the intruder!” Damian yells, making you scowl.

“The what? Damian-“

“No times for lectures!” Damian interrupts, “Whoever uploads the most Tik Toks with Y/n by end of the month, is crowned her true best friend!”

“Wha-“

“You’re on!” Billy agrees, fully bemused by Damian’s antics.

“This is stupid Dames.” Jon grumbles.

“What the hell Damian! You can’t just-“

“The winner will have an all expenses covered holiday of Y/n’s choosing paid by Wayne Enterprises.” Damian quickly adds making you shut your mouth instantly.

“… well best of luck guys.” You yield.

Diana really thought the end of September couldn’t come sooner.

Diana thought this whole scenario was harmless shenanigans. But considering it involved the Teen-Three, she really should’ve known better.

Diana was getting non-stop phone calls from the school and other parents with concerns and complaints at the inappropriate conduct, especially with Damian speeding dangerously through the parking lot in a super car to pick up her daughter to film Tik Toks and with Billy just randomly showing up in her daughters classes to film Tik Toks was really getting out of hand.

Diana resisted the urge to kill the kid’s fun at the request of her husband.

“Let the kids have their fun! When I was Y/n’s age, I was day drinking, smoking like a chimney and sleeping with…” Diana stares down her husband, daring him to finish his sentence. “… moral of the story, let the kids be.”

The winner turned out to be Jon, who came over last night and spent 1 minute recording a video, and proceeded to continuously reupload that video until mid-night.

Diana and her husband watched arguments and debates ensue whilst sipping their newly imported wine.

“These kids and their shenanigans, I swear.”

[overtake]

if you’re still doing prompts: ⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

Car mechanic Daniel, driver Max.

Daniel’s brain pulses inside his head, kissing the fragile walls of his skull with every second he’s awake. His nose simultaneously runs out of one nostril and is stuffed up in the other. Even through his slightly blocked hearing, he knows his breathing sounds wheezy and congested.

He props himself up onto a shaky elbow and almost collapses with the motion. His whole body aches. There’s spine-chilling shivers sent through his bones one second and hot flashes the next. Groaning, he finally adjusts himself to a seated position and takes a second to regroup.

Reluctantly, he reaches for his phone to turn off do not disturb. He hates to call out of work, made worse by how nice Cyril always is about it. The garage is a lot for the two of them to handle, let alone Cyril by himself.

Daniel blinks when he realizes he has six missed calls from the garage. He’s definitely running a bit behind his usual schedule, but Cyril doesn’t set specific hours for him so long as Daniel gets his work done. There must be some emergency, which is fucking great. He’ll be taking medicine and going after all.

He sees spots when he stands to his feet, but he grabs his bedside table and manages to stay upright. He puts the phone on speaker and drops it on the bed while he pulls on the first respectably clean items of clothing he can find. Not like it matters, really. He’ll sweat through them within five minutes of working through this fever, and grease always seems to permeate their coveralls no matter what they do.

Cyril picks up in a state of panic — which, for him, still sounds remarkably calm and stable.

“We have an emergency repair,” he informs Daniel. “It’s going to take me all day, probably. I need you to cover everything else so I can get this done.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Daniel promises, trying his absolute best to sound as if he’s not deathly ill. Cyril is too caught up in frantically relaying this emergency to Daniel, who has entirely tuned him out in pursuit of getting on pants without passing out and splitting his head open. He probably ends the call rather rudely into Cyril’s story, but he needs to focus all his attention on driving into work without a dizzy spell.

Cyril takes one look at him and tries to send him straight back home.

“No,” Daniel protests. “I’m good. I’ll go home if it’s still bad by midday, but I’m alright. You have that emergency repair for someone important.”

The reminder of this seemingly VIP client perks Cyril right up. “You would not believe who is in our office right now,” he says, dropping his voice to a low whisper.

Daniel shrugs. He probably can guess. A tiny auto repair shop on the outskirts of Perth doesn’t exactly attract high profile visitors. At best, it’s probably some dickhead politician or half-famous musician. They definitely have money, based on the nice ass car Cyril was working on when Daniel walked in.

“Go and look,” Cyril says excitedly, shoving Daniel toward the door that leads into the office space.

This mystery guy has his back to Daniel, bent over on his phone. Daniel sees broad shoulders and scruffy hair in that nebulous area between blond and brown.

It’s only when the guy turns around that he realizes he’s looking at Max Verstappen.

Daniel hasn’t paid actual attention to F1 in years. He did his time in Italy, tried to prove himself worthy of a real shot. He got it, too. He did races with HRT, made it two races with Toro Rosso, and then collapsed in the paddock before quali and was diagnosed with a heart condition. Manageable, they said. Shouldn’t affect his length or quality of life, so long as he took medication and stopped putting his body through the enormous strain of racing.

He’d considered saying fuck it and racing anyway. It felt more important to him than anything else at that time. To a 22-year-old with his dreams at his fingertips, he figured there was no quality of life without F1.

His mum, though — it would have destroyed her. He returned to Perth and laid uselessly in bed for two months, then found the closest job to cars he could stomach without driving himself mental over what he’d lost.

“Everything okay?” Max asks, twisting and facing his body toward Daniel when he hears the door open. His blue eyes widen when they take in Daniel, probably looking just as spooked as Daniel’s do right now. Daniel knows he’s sick, but he didn’t realize he looked atrocious enough to scare people.

“Hi,” Daniel says. His words come out phlegmy, and he tries for a casual cough to clear it. He can feel it’s not successful, but forges on. “Uh, I don’t know if Cyril mentioned it, but your repair is going to probably be an all-day thing. You don’t have to sit in here.” Then, panicked that he sounds as if he’s kicking Max out, he hastily clarifies. “Obviously, you can stay if you want. There’s just probably more exciting things to do.”

Max looks at him drily. “I don’t have a car.”

“Right,” Daniel says. “Like, no offense, but I think you’ve got the money to rent a new one.”

Max doesn’t look remotely offended. He laughs, something genuine and higher-pitched than Daniel expected.

“I’ve done all the tourist things anyway. I leave tomorrow. I don’t really mind just sitting here.”

“Alright, well. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you, Daniel,” Max says. He has a nice smile, Daniel thinks, and admires the pink shape of it before Max turns back to his phone.

It takes his hazy brain ages to realize he never told Max his name.

Max hunches over his screen, shooting the odd glance at the door to make sure no one’s about to bust back through. He types in the Instagram handle he’s visited countless times over the years. Daniel Ricciardo, who shook his hand at a karting event with a big grin and imprinted himself permanently on Max’s psyche.

Max had spent ages on his dad’s computer after that collapse, refreshing the search over and over until a news article confirmed that Daniel was alive.

Daniel had faded in and out of Max’s memory in the years since, but he never left completely. Every so often, Max would look at his social media and watch the profile picture change with the times. Those pixels on a locked-down profile were the only documentation he had that Daniel was still out in the world somewhere and doing okay.

He didn’t come to Perth for Daniel. He didn’t even know if Daniel still lived here, for one. Plus, it would be incredibly creepy to track him down based on the foggy memory of a decade old karting event.

Max had watched back Daniel’s limited races, breathless at the raw potential. He’d wondered a few times what it would’ve been like if Daniel stayed and fought his way into Red Bull long enough for Max to race beside him.

Even still, he didn’t pick his vacation spot for Daniel. Subconsciously, maybe it influenced his choice, but he had two spare weeks after Melbourne and an ache to see something besides his white bedroom walls.

Fate, not Max, made his ludicrously expensive rental car break down in the Perth suburbs and brought him to Daniel’s garage.

He looks down at Daniel’s profile. 32 posts. A profile picture of him in a colourful bucket hat sipping a drink. No mutual followers, despite the countless people that connect them. Daniel didn’t make this page until he was out of F1, and Max assumes he blocked out that world entirely.

He hovers his finger over the follow button, then exits the app before he can make that kind of bad decision. Instead, he stands, pats his jeans to check for his wallet, and marches out the door toward the cafe a few doors down.

He thinks of Daniel’s raspy voice and ruddy, fever-red cheeks and hopes he likes soup.

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[hpalways]

the star you were | Ken Sato

The man, the myth, the legend, Ken Sato. He was seemingly arrogant in his interviews, as well as relatively cold and distant from his teammates, as if he was untouchable.

You always assumed he had some sort of superior complex.

So... how did you stumble upon him at some measly convenience store, sitting there in a plastic chair like some loner?

It was as if he had no friends.

You tossed a cold fresh can of beer towards him, to which he caught it easily, blinking at you in surprise for a moment. His usual neat slicked back hair fell across his forehead as messy black bangs and the glow of his eyes were dull, despite the beautiful specks that adorned them. Truly, his irises were breathtaking, like stars, now that you could see them so close in real life.

"What are you doing?" he asked, with an almost offensive tone in his voice.

You shrugged. "You looked like you needed one." Without asking for permission, you slipped into the chair across from him and cracked open your own beer, listening in to the delicious foam created at the top.

"If you're a fan, you could just ask me for an autograph instead of being rude and bothering me like nobodies' business."

"Not a fan. Just thought you could use the company."

He scoffed. "I'm the one and only Ken Sato! I don't need company from some rando on the street."

"If you say so... you do look more sad sipping on beer alone though," you relented, getting up from your seat.

He hesitated, running his fingers through his hair in slight frustration. "Fine... sit down."

You plopped back down with a grin. "I must say, you look quite different in real life compared to the big screen. A little worse for wear."

Instead of rebuking like you imagined, he sighed and drooped his head. He took a large gulp out of the can, slamming it down the small table. "Just dealing with some personal things right now."

"Ah, that explains the recent plays you've done."

He shot you a glare and shook his head. "I... just need to get warmed up. I'll be back in no time."

"Right..." you said, sniffing.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked, raising a brow at you. In his typical black tee and jeans, he draped himself against the chair, the muscles rippling shamelessly. Indeed, the years spent training on baseball paid off, shaping his physique majestically. Perhaps that was why he had so many fangirls, not for his plays but for his attractive looks.

"[Name]."

"And who are you to be sending insults my way every so often?"

"I'm not." You lifted your arms up defensively. "I'm just stating facts. But funny enough, I get you. It's not like my life's going perfect either."

"Are you another reporter? Trying to dig up my deepest darkest secrets?"

"I'm not. But what is your deepest darkest secret?"

"..."

"Sorry. But yeah, no reporter here. Just your average day in the mill office worker."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" he groaned, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "That an average office worker relates to me?"

"Y'know, with that attitude, no wonder you don't have friends."

He grew silent, sipping more of his beer as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. His silence was your answer. But it also made you wonder. There had been a lot of rumors and gossip circulating around the Ken Sato. Was any of it real? And did some of it hit too close to home? Why was this man such an anomaly? Why had he not won any championships yet despite how impressive he was? Nothing added up.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I have friends," he said, averting his gaze. "They're just busy all the time."

"I see..." you responded, fighting off the smile from your lips. It was clear as day that he was lying, but you supposed you had been hard on him enough. "I'll be your friend."

"You?!" He eyed you up and down in dismay, before a lightbulb struck him. "Actually... yes! Are you good with babysitting?"

You choked midsip, confusion warping your features. "Babysitting?"

a/n: just a little bit of a ken sato drabble/dialogue play bc I'm obsessed with him right now hahahaha. lowk would write nsfw for this man oops, lmk if y'all want it LMAO.

[hippopotamusdreamer]

SKZ Code: Behind the Scenes

genre. A (heavy), F (eventually at the end)

warnings. Cheating, gaslighting, arguing, grabbing, cursing, swearing

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, reader is aged between Hyunjin and Han, includes all members of Stray Kids

pairing. Yoon Jeonghan x Reader, Platonic!Felix x Reader, ot8 x 9th member reader

w.c. 7.6K

synopsis. Things get heated as emotional problems follow Y/N on set after an overdue encounter with her boyfriend. So what happens when something happens to triggers that fresh memory?

a/n. This is my first ever "published" kpop fic...be nice to me LMAO After having watched SKZ CODE ep. 40, that scene between Hyunjin and Han really stuck with me and just would not get out of my head, thus, this is the result. Constructive criticism would be nice, I feel like I added a lot of detail and it could get muddled and just become a wall of text, let me know what you think.

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

Friday, 11:53 PM, unknown club in Hongdae

There were people all around you. Many of which were bumping and grinding on each other as they enjoyed themselves in all corners of the darkened building. The bass that reverberated throughout the entire club you were currently in was thumping so loud that you couldn’t differentiate it from the wild beating of your heart. The thrumming in your body kept you grounded as you walked through the dense crowd. LEDs were blinking with multicolored filters and there were even a few fog machines that made the place more hip than cliché. Unfortunately, the constant flashing of said lights made the oncoming headache you had, worse.

God, you wanted to leave.

You weren’t even supposed to be there in the first place. But you had gotten a text from Nayeon an hour earlier that just had “???” and then immediately after a photo of what looked like your boyfriend looking really fucking cozy with some girl for someone who had supposedly stayed late for practice at his company that night.

So there you were, in some random club in Hongdae, trying to keep yourself from turning into a mess. Dating ban be damned, you weren’t the only idol that had tried to date in secret, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. Yet in this instance, as you made your way to the second floor VIP area, maybe you should have just followed the rules instead…

Was sneaking out of your dorm at the risk of your reputation and that of your group to get some answers a good idea? Absolutely not. And having had left yours and Hyunjin’s nightly skin care routine; claiming a, now very real, headache to go there didn’t make it any better. You’d be in for the scolding of a lifetime if any of the guys were to find out you where you were.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Saturday, 12:45 AM, VIP lounge, unknown club in Hongdae

Moving past the bouncer of the VIP section, Nayeon walked up, having waited for you to come. One look at your distressed state and she quickly pulled you into a hug. Letting go and without another word she turned you to the left and you finally came face to face with what you had been hoping was misunderstanding until this very moment.

Just like it had been in the photo Nayeon had sent earlier, there he was. An overly relaxed looking Jeonghan manspreading in his seat as an unknown pretty girl, who looked far too comfortable for it to be their first time together like this, sat perched on his lap. You both watched as she leaned down to whisper in his ear, placing her hand none too subtly on his chest in the process. The grin he gave her as he wrapped his arm around her waist was what snapped you out of your stupor.

“Y/N, wait!” Nayeon yelled after you as you finally found the will to move forward. Certain now that the thrumming you felt earlier was your heart and not the music.

You were practically in front of them and yet they paid you no mind. In their own little bubble, ignorant to the storm inside you. “Yah… Yoon Jeonghan, are you fucking kidding me?”

Jeonghan glanced at you slowly, like he hadn’t a care in the world for whoever was interrupting him, only to sit up from his slouched position, eyes wide in shock. Instantly pulling away from the girl that had basically plastered herself onto him. “Y-Y/N! What are you doing here?” He managed to stutter out, frantically looking around, unsure of how you got there.

“I should be asking you the same thing. The PLEDIS building sure got a damn upgrade since the last time I was there,” the venom in your voice apparent even over the loud music.

“Baby, please, it’s not what it looks like!” He gets up from his seat to get into your personal bubble to be heard. You see from your peripheral that the girl he was with slink off to somewhere else. The booming of the music made it hard to hear him but it’s easy to tell that he was trying to make excuses. Jeonghan probably felt the same way because in the next instance he was grabbing you by the arm and all but dragged you to the outside smoking balcony. You try to jerk free but he’s stronger than you, though he is struggling.

“Let me go!”

The balcony is empty of other people surprisingly and the music is still loud out there but at least you’re able to hear each other better as he whorls around to face you.

“Not until you hear me out!”

“There’s nothing for me to hear! It looks like my boyfriend was about to get Real. Fucking. Personal. With. Someone. Else.” You punctuate each word with a jab to his chest.

He grabs on to the appendage only to then forcefully let go as he steps away from you. The tick in his jaw letting you know he was already annoyed.

Good. So were you.

“Look would you just chill the fuck out! We weren’t even doing anything.”

“…She was sitting on your lap and you weren’t doing shit about it…”

“So she was sitting on my lap, who the fuck cares?”

“I do! And as my “boyfriend”, you should have had some respect for your partner and not do shit like that! How do you think that makes me feel Jeong?”

“Oh my god babe, it’s not that serious,” he says as he rolls his eyes, as if exasperated. He raked a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his body language.

“Ok, so if you were to see me with some random guy in the position you were in just now, it’d be fine? Is what you’re telling me?” You question hypothetically while aggressively gesturing to the building behind you.

“Babe…”

“No, I want to understand. Cause you’re saying it wasn’t that bad right? So I can just go inside and find some guy to get with and you’ll be ok with it, right?”

“…You’re starting to piss me off.”

“News flash, I’m already pissed off. If Nayeon hadn’t—”

“Nayeon? Oh yeah,” he spat out as he rolled his neck, “now it makes so much fucking sense. You know she fucking hates me babe, hasn’t liked me since you introduced us eight months ago. I told you she’s not a good friend if she keeps trying to break us up.”

“Oh my god, not this again...,” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“She’s always putting shit inside your head about us! She’ll say anything—"

“That’s not the fucking point right now! The point is that if you’re willing to do this in front of people, what kind of things are you doing when no one’s a-fucking-round! I know what I saw Jeonghan!”

“Jesus fuck! I made out with someone one time at a party and now you hold it over my head!”

“Because if DK and I hadn’t’ve caught you you probably would have slept with her! You practically had your hand up her dress that time!”

“She literally means nothing to me!”

“So, you’re willing to risk our relationship for nothing?”

“You’re being so dramatic right now for no reason!”

“No reason?” You were stunned.

“It’s not that big a deal! God, if I had known that you were going to be this insecure about our relationship, I wouldn’t have even asked you out!”

“I’m only like this because of what you did!”

The both of you were far too into your heated argument to notice that the door to the balcony open and close.

Only a split second passed as Jeonghan latched onto your arm tightly again and got in your face. You whimper out at the sudden contact knowing full well you’d most likely have a hand shaped bruise to cover up later.

You wince as pain radiates up your arm.

“Let’s get one thing fucking straight—”

But he never got the chance to finish his sentence as he was forcefully yanked away from you. The familiar multicolored hair of you bandmember stands in front of you as Jeonghan nurses his now bruising cheek.

“Felix…?” You whisper in wonder. What was he doing there? How did he know where to find you? Your heart picks up from the adrenaline of this night.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on her again, do you hear me?” Felix said evenly, glaring daggers at Jeonghan. Felix may have been shorter than him but in that moment, he was the most intimidating of the two.

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Saturday, 2:19 AM, Felix’s bedroom – VOCALRACHA dorm

You sat in the back of the blacked-out car that Felix has pulled up in. The driver giving the two of you a moment as Felix comforts your hunched over crying form.

You had learned that when you had first confronted Jeonghan, Nayeon had a feeling something would go wrong and immediately went to call Felix. He had been in the middle of playing one of his games when he got the call and proceeded to also sneak out if his dorm to meet her at the front of the club. From there, he got the gist of the information and made his way upstairs with the thought of being a mediator. Only with what he witnessed, it quickly put an end to that idea.

It was Felix who had opened the door to the balcony in the middle of your argument and lost it when Jeonghan put his hands on you.

After that was a bit of a blur for you as Nayeon and Felix maneuvered you through the club discreetly in case someone saw and the media get a hold of that information. All you knew is that Jeonghan tried to come at the two of you but the 63 taekwondo medal holder put him in his place. Felix eventually managed to get you out of there safely but not before letting you confirm out loud that it was officially over between you and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan was too busy writhing in pain to argue back.

So here you were, finally allowing yourself to feel all the emotions of the night, crying into Felix as he pats your hair soothingly, protective arm wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry you had to come out h-here,” you hiccup.

“It’s alright Jellybean, I’m just glad I got there in time to stop him from doing anything more to you. How’s your arm?”

Sniffling, you pull back from him and shift your arm forward. He turns on the flashlight from his phone to see and the both of you come face to face with the repercussions of angry actions. As you thought, an outline of bruised digits were beginning to form like a bad tattoo on your bicep.

He sucks a breath between his teeth as he ghosts his fingers over the bruise. He’s silent as he tries to reel in his anger as he fights himself on going back inside and beating the shit out of the other idol.

But one look at your tear-stained face stops him.

“I’ll tell Chan and Lee Know-hyung that I called you over to our dorm later so they won’t go looking for you. That way you can just stay in my room.”

“Oh Lix, you don’t have—”

“No it’s ok, I don’t think you should be alone right now and I’m pretty sure you don’t want anyone to know about what happened.”

You stay quiet because you know he’s right. Reluctantly, you nod at his offer, grateful for the angel of your group.

He gives you a small sad smile as he brings you back into his arms, placing a comforting kiss on your head. Doesn’t say a word when you quietly start to cry again; just continues to pat your hair as the driver comes back into the car and takes the both of you back to Felix’s dorm.

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You spent a total of 5 days in Felix’s room, crying. You finally managed to explain to Felix that you and Jeonghan had been secretly dating for about 10 months until then but that he had already cheated one you at least once, that you know of, before at an after party of one of the award shows. One of Jeonghan’s members had been with you when you caught him in the act and had gotten you out of there before a scene was caused.

You’d forgiven him after some heavy persuasion on his part but that left you feeling insecure about the relationship since it happened just about a month ago. He’d always had anger issues, but the night at the club was the first time he ever tried to grab you like that. When Nayeon eunnie messaged you that Friday night about seeing him with a different girl this time; you had to confront him before he had a chance to deny it.

You felt bad but Felix kept reassuring you that it was ok that you stayed there and that made you want to cry more. As he promised, he messaged the oldest members of your whereabouts. And with good timing too since according to Chan, Hyunjin had went into your room Saturday morning to wake you for the morning skin routine, but you were gone and he was about ready to freak out.

After that first night, Felix came up with the plan to say that you got hit with a weird bug and that it’d be too much of a hassle to move you back to your room in the 3RACHA dorm (plus  you and Hyunjin) so you might as well just stay in his room for the time being. Minho came to check on you that night, but Felix managed to convince him that it wasn’t bad enough to go to the hospital; you just needed to rest and eat something not too heavy. It wasn’t that far off from the truth honestly, and it was a good excuse to stop anyone else from checking up on you.

So Felix’s room was now a designated “quarantine zone” and no one was allowed to go in and bother you. Felix being the only one able to go in and out since it was his room after all. Your phone had been bombarded with texts from all your members trying to check up on you, pinging every few minutes with memes and well wishes. It wasn’t until you kept getting back-to-back calls and texts from your now ex-boyfriend that you turned off your phone, not wanting to deal with him now or ever again.

Just like you thought, the bruise on your arm had gotten darker and it was easy to tell what had caused it. With just one glance at your arm, you knew that with how protective the guys were over you, that the entirety of Stray Kids would go looking for a fight with your ex and your group absolutely did not need any heat in the media right now. It was hard enough keeping Lix from going out there once he looked at your arm again and taking matters into his own hands. Let alone all eight of them if word got out.

No, you had just wanted to wallow in self-pity for now.

Currently, Felix sat next to you in bed as you lay curled up by his side. He was letting you know that Chan had stopped by again to check on you when you were asleep earlier and had left you your designated SKZOO, a bear cub named Gom-N/N-ie, to “help you feel bettah.” You felt guilty for lying to him, all of them really, after that while accepting your SKZOO from the sunshine man. Bringing it to your chest, you bury your face in the familiar feeling of your plushie.

“You know you don’t have to go tomorrow, right? We can tell the managers that you’re sick, too,” Felix’s deep voice broke through the quiet of the room from his spot next to you as he gently combed his fingers through your hair. Tomorrow all of you were to begin shooting for a special new episode of SKZ Code for Chuseok. You’d completely forgot about it until you overheard Minho and Innie talking about it outside of the door earlier.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating on what you should say and do. You know you can’t keep hiding out in Felix’s room like this, it’s not fair to him. He doesn’t like lying to the other members either yet is doing it just for your sake. He’s been working hard to deflect any and all questions, comments and concerns about your wellbeing while also placating everyone else. You’ve definitely put your younger member in a difficult position.

You owe him a lot, your little sunshine.

“…I’ll go.”

His hand stills in your hair, waiting to see if you’ll say anything else.

“I’ll go with everyone tomorrow. You’re probably sick of me being in here anyways,” you quietly laugh out.

“Naur, what?” His Aussie accent coming out as he switches from Korean to English and back again. “I’m not sick of you, I could never be. If anything, the others are jealous cause I’m the only one that’s gotten to see you!”

“That’s such a lie, Lee Yongbok!” you finally laugh out loud for the first time since Friday night while swatting him in the leg playfully.

“It’s true, noona! Binnie Hyung was about ready to tackle me to get inside the room yesterday!”

The image alone of your buff bun trying to tackle your sunshine lad had you in stitches. What you didn’t see was the loving gaze of said sunshine, glad to see you at least somewhat happy again after everything that’s happened.

For this moment in time, that’s all he could ask for.

Felix gently grazes his fingers over your bruised arm, his smile slightly faltering at what he sees. Moving his hand back to your hair, he gently pulls a few strands just to get your attention.

“It’s gonna be ok, you know. I’ll be there to help you if you need it, alright? You’re not gonna be alone.”

“I know Lix…thank you. For everything.,” you respond quietly.

His only action is to bend down and give you another comforting forehead kiss. The two of you remain quiet for the rest of the night until it was time for bed.

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Thursday, 8:15 AM, VOCALRACHA dorm

As soon as you followed Felix out of the bedroom, you were accosted by the one and only  maknae on top.

“Noona!” Jeongin yelled out, too loud for what time it was. “Are you feeling better? Do you need more medicine, a doctor?”

“Yah! Let her breathe.” The three of you jump in the middle of the hallway as the admonishing tone of Minho could be distinguished from the kitchen. He’d probably heard Innie from all the way over there.

Chuckling, you give him a small smile and a pat to his head to calm him down.

“I’m ok right now Innie, thank you for checking up on me.”

“You really had us worried noona, Lee Know-hyung was about to burst in there and take you to the hospital himself as soon as he found out you weren’t feeling good if it weren’t for Felix hyung.”

You’d figured something like that was bound to happen. You were even more grateful to Felix for all his efforts. You giggle at his comment and the three of you continue to the kitchen where Seungmin was also waiting.

“Morning everyone,” you greeted, sitting down next to the second youngest of you all.

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok enough to shoot today?” Seungmin asks quietly while placing a cup of juice in front of you which you gratefully take. You nod in agreeance as a bowl of porridge is placed in front of you. Minho pats your head before walking away to get the other dishes for breakfast.

“We’ll let the director-nim know that you should take it easier today at least,” he says while serving the rest of the guys at the table. Before you can protest, he sends you a heated look that leaves no room for argument.

With a twitch to your lips, you can’t help but to agree with him too. “I understand, thank you for breakfast.”

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Thursday, 11:15 AM – SKZ Code shoot location, dressing room 1

Meeting the other half of your group went just about the same. Except more scolding from Hyunjin for skipping out on your daily routine. Although that was mostly an excuse because he was just so worried when he didn’t see you in your room that first morning.

“Really Y/N-ie, you should have messaged me first!” the pout on his lips not hard to find as he tugs on your sleeve.

“Y/N-ah, you should have seen him!” the boisterous voice of Changbin joins the two of you as you sit in your designated dressing room waiting for your leader’s return. The two of them immediately ambushing you, much like Jeongin this morning, upon your arrival. “He wouldn’t stop bothering Channie hyung for information on how you were doing!”

That evokes the lankier one of the two to get flustered and from there the two start a playful argument of no-I-wasn’t’s and yes-you-were’s. Just being with them again really did set your mind and heart at easy after the past couple of days. Not to mention a good distraction.

A quiet “noona” catches your attention from the squabble in front of you and has you turning to face Han questioningly.

“I brought you a red ginseng drink to keep your health up today.”

You wanted to cry again for an altogether different reason. Your members cared for you so much, each in their own different ways. You don’t know what you’d do without them.

“Ahh, thank you, Hannie. I’ll drink this right now.” The initial taste of the ginger is gross but it had a hint of sweetness at the end so the overall drink wasn’t too bad. Especially if you try to take it all in one go.

Han sits next to you on the couch, Felix following shortly after, as I.N and Minho join in on the fray to annoy the already hyped-up boys. Although they could all be loud and wild sometimes, it was just a part of their charm.

Chan comes back into the room about 5 minutes later gaining everyone’s attention.

“Alright, I got everything squared away with the director and producers. Y/N, they know you’re just getting better,” he states, staring directly at you as if he—, no there was no way, right? “So, you’re going to be given more of the easier things to do alright?”

The panic in your head only allows you to nod at him as you grab Felix’s hand for a quiet support. He doesn’t skip a beat in intertwining your hands together.

“Great, we’ve got 10 minutes before they want us to start going to make up and changing. Then we’re all going to film an intro piece for the episode. Anyone have any questions or problems with that?

When no one responded, Chan just nods and heads to the far corner and sits with his phone for a bit. You can’t help but think you feel his gaze every once in a while but brush it off as paranoia.

The time eventually comes to split off as the boys go to their own designated dressing room and you stay in the current one. The stylists helping you to get ready for what is surely to be an interesting shoot if the hanbok you have to wear is anything to go off of.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thursday, 1:15 PM – SKZ Code shoot location

[I.N - Lee Know's younger sister, Yongbok and Y/N's aunt]

[Changbin - High school jock / Always steps up to keep his family together]

[HAN - A sweet but strict father (But somewhat seems polite)]

[Hyunjin - The sassy mother]

[Lee Know - A tough woman but a lenient mother to Yongbok and Y/N]

[Seungmin - Survives through the attacks by Lee Know, I.N, and daughter’s Y/N and Yongbok]

[Yongbok - Sassy and brave like his mom, sister, and aunt]

[Bang Chan - The youngest son, loves his mom the most and hates his brother / Is always losing out to cousin Yongbok]

[Y/N – The exasperated oldest of the grandkids back from university/ Yongbok’s sister]

One rainy Chuseok morning, the SKZ Family are gathering in a long while today CHUSEOK SPECIAL : SKZ Family Returns

You stand off to the side, waiting for your cue to join, with the rest of the group as Channie and Felix do the beginning of the intro skit. It’s hard to keep the giggles in with how cute the both of them look and act.

“Hi...,” Chan started out shyly.

“Hi!” Felix sassed out immediately in response.

“How old are you?”

Felix counts slowly with his fingers, “…Three. How about you?”

“I’m five. I’m older than you.”

Felix plucks out two more digits to make five on his hand.

“You’re right.”

“Mm”

“You don’t look older though.”

“Why are you talking down to me?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Don’t talk down to me!”

“Don’t yell!”

“Okay…,” Chan whispers out. “Mommy!”

“Daddy!”

They both start crying and that’s your you cue to walk into the frame behind them.

“Hey! Stop crying!”

“Noona!” “Eunnie!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Filming was going smoothly so far. It was just the beginning though so nothing too taxing had happened yet. Felix just finished introducing himself as three-year-old Yongbok who gets her good looks from her mom and wants to live with her mother after their divorce.

“Waaah, my little sister is so cute,” you say out loud with a smile, Felix sticking his tongue out at you in response.

“Yes, both of my daughters are so cute,” Lee Know says while pinching your cheek since you sat beside him. There went your smile.

“Ahh! Mom!”

“Y/N-ie, it’s your turn to introduce yourself,” Seungmin, as your father, says not even bothering to help you out. You make a noncommittal sound as you fight with Lee Know to let go of your cheek still. More than half the guys laughing at your antics.

“Mom, please!”

“Ohh, but how can I let go of these cheeks huh,” he says in a babying tone, as he does in fact, let you go.

You rub your cheek as you sit down on the stool and face the proper direction.

“Hello, I’m Yongbok’s older sister, Y/N. I’m tirelessly working on maintaining my high marks in school but currently on break from university. So I’m glad to be home and able to spend this time with my family.”

“You get you book smarts from your dad,” Han says chuckling.

“And your street smarts from your mom,” Seungmin joins in. Lee Know, jokingly takes the bubble gun blower in front of him and aims it at his ‘husband’.

“That’s right, so you better watch what you say.”

You’re laughing at the scene before you as Hyunjin continues the skit, “Y/N-ie, what are you studying in college?”

“Uhh,” you didn’t really have a concept for this character, until you lock eyes with Chan and then the kiddie computer in front of him. “I’m studying…m-music producing?” you get out before laughing since producing was certainly not your forte. And everyone in front of you knew that.

“Noona is so cool,” Chan says from his spot on the ground. “Better than my older brother.”

“Aww, thanks Channie,” you beam at him as he beams back.

“Yah Bang Chan!” Binnie yells from behind him before yelling in pain because Chan leaned back against his legs.

“Changbin, don’t yell at you brother,” Hyunjin says as his mom.

“Mmm, my daughter is so talented. Getting in the best university of the country, getting good grades and look at her face, just like me,” He strikes a little pose. “Maybe next holiday she’ll bring home a boyfriend,” Lee Know continues in character.

The smile on your face freezes as your heart zings in pain. You’ve become still in your seat as you feel Felix’s eyes on you. He being the only ones to notice your hands balling into fists on your skirt.

“…Mom,” you start off slowly. Your hesitancy easily mistakable for your character’s young adult/college student love life being interrogated by their parent. “That’s…”

“She doesn’t need to be dating in college,” Seungmin cuts you off. “We met in college and now we’re getting a divorce!”

“Yeah but she won’t meet a mistake like you and go through any hardships. So she’ll be fine .”

Grin faltering, you begin to bite the inside of your lip to stop your eyes from getting glossy. Your nose starting to sting, a tale tell sign that you wanted to cry. Your actual hardships flashing in your mind.

“Mommy, daddy, don’t fight,” Felix tries to distract them.

“We’re not fighting,” Lee Know quickly responds as you get up from your seat to switch places with him. Felix quickly looping his arm around yours, taking your hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze.

You give him one back as you stare at a spot by your feet.

.

.

.

Despite the earlier hiccup, everything was going fine. Both Lee Know and Seungmin went on to introduce themselves, which was a skit about how Lee Know got married for money and that they were in the process of getting a divorce more than anything. And then Innie looking out for his nieces because what was said in front of them.

It was then decided that Yongbok was going with Lee Know and you were going with Seungmin. Both kids pouting at this information for being separated.

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Next up was Han, who’s outfit immediately got torn to pieces by everyone in the room. Him trying to explain that he got his style from his father caused everyone to derail in laughter.

He brings back everyone’s attention by restarting his introduction.

“I’m Yongbok and Y/N-ie’s uncle, but I could be their new father.”

“Their new father?” Lee Know questions immediately as you and Felix looked shocked at him.

“I mean, I’ll be that much kinder to them.”

A few of the members understand what he means by that and Hyunjin speaks up in relief, “I was worried.”

“Hey, just a few days ago,” Seungmin speaks up from beside you asking a seemingly innocent question until it wasn’t. “Did you enjoy dinner with the friend I introduced to you?”

There was a pause in the room. Han looking a little shell-shocked as he responds.

“Why are you mentioning that now?”

Everyone’s quiet as Hyunjin gets up from his seated position. Your heartbeat picking up, flashes of your very recent tragedy of a relationship flashing in your mind. All the heartache came rushing back as the scene before you kept unfolding. Your heartbeat picking up in your chest as you look between the two.

“What does that mean?” Hyunjin asked cluelessly.

“You knew mom’s a jealous person!” Changbin yells from his spot next to I.N.

You can’t say anything as the ball of emotions in your throat gets bigger. Felix tries to comfort you but gets pulled away by Lee Know who’s trying to cover his eyes.

“Close your eyes and open your nose,” he says to Felix. If only you could shut out the blood rushing in your ears.

The deep breath that Hyunjin takes is something you felt from deep within your core. “Try explaining yourself.”

“What?”

“Try explaining.”

“You didn’t tell her?” Seungmin jumps in with a grin, making the situation worse. “I thought you did.”

It’s a joke. It’s a joke. It’s a joke.

You repeat to yourself as you try to control your breathing. It’s not their fault that you basically went through something so distressingly similar not even a week ago and they didn’t know about it. Staring at your lap, your hands begin to tremble and you can just feel your lips wobbling.

“Honey,” Han laughs out nervously.

“Was she prettier than me?”

You bring your hands up to cover part of your face. That had been one of many questions that had been plaguing you since the first time Jeonghan had cheated on you. You never got a good look at the first girl and the second girl was definitely pretty to you. You close your eyes, eyebrows furrowing, to try to block out the scene. You hope they can’t here you sniffling.

“…Yaaahh,” is all that Han can respond with, wanting to avoid answering the question.

Did he even feel guilty for what he did? Or did he just move on as if the last 10 months together didn’t mean anything?

 A warm hand on your knee makes you open your eyes and you’re met with Chan’s concerned gaze as your eyesight becomes blurry with the tears quickly gathering there. His concern quickly becomes full on worry as a single tear drops down your cheek.

You needed to get out of there, quickly. It was a wonder how the others haven’t picked up on how upset you’re getting.

“Mom, no one’s prettier than you,” Changbin pipes up as he stands up next to Hyunjin.

“That’s right!”

Did Jeonghan ask his members not to tell you anything? Were they in on everything?

 “Lee Know…?” Han questions.

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell them we met yesterday.”

Would they have told you if they knew? Or did they all laugh about you behind their backs? Did Jeonghan even like you, or did he just keep you around because you were convenient?

This endless cycle of negative questions kept spiraling in your mind as the skit the boys were doing continued to play out before you.

Lee Know, with a grin on his face, turns to look at Hyunjin who’s sat down next to Seungmin again. “It’s fine, I saw someone today too.” Hyunjin says in retaliation as he grabs onto Seungmin.

“Wait a minute…” Han starts but you’ve had enough by this point. The sob you try to hide was heard throughout the group and everyone freezes.

You hurriedly get up from your spot between Seungmin and Felix and trip twice trying to get out of there. The chaos that ensues as the fabric of your hanbok getting caught under your foot was instantaneous as Chan, Changbin, and Felix immediately try to catch you. The small leg space not making it easy to leave quickly.

“Noona?” I.N asks fearfully, breaking character as he sees the state that you’re in.

“Y/N-ah?” Minho asks from his side of the couch starting to get up from his seat.

Han, Seungmin, and Hyunjin quiet in their shock of what’s happening.

“Sorry—,  I—, Please…,” you sob out as you finally get out of the cramped space. Felix and Chan following right behind you as you run to the restroom to lock yourself in there. The door closing in both of their faces. The brief look at your expression, blotchy and covered in tears, breaking their hearts.

You hug yourself as you slide down against the door, finally allowing yourself to cry fully. Even through your sobs, you can hear the other members coming up to the other side of the door to check on you. You could faintly make out the deep timbre of Felix’s voice most likely trying to diffuse the situation which makes you cry more. You weren’t ready to face any of this, or them, now. Should have just stayed home instead of making a mess like this.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you heard a gentle knock on the door behind you. Your tears still flowing slowly but at least you weren’t full on sobbing now. Sniffling, you’re hesitant as you look towards the locked doorknob.

“Y/N-ah, it’s just me,” Chan says from the other side. “Everyone else went to go talk to the manager and director to give us a break right now.”

Not saying anything, he clears his throat before asking quietly, “Do you think you can let me in?”

The double entendre isn’t lost on you. Whether Chan knew what he said or not was unknown to you. With some tentativeness, you manage to wiggle to the wall to be able to unlock and open the door for him.

Chan slips into the restroom and closes the door swiftly behind him. You look small to him as you sat huddled into yourself on the ground. Not like your usual boisterous self. He doesn’t say anything as he sits down next to you. Doesn’t pressure you to say anything, either. Just sits with you, waiting patiently for you to be comfortable enough to tell him what’s wrong.

So you sit there in silence for a few moments more. Trying to gather the courage to lay yourself emotionally bare to your leader. You pick at the fabric you have on, sniffling every now and then until Chan gently places his hand over yours in comfort. And to probably stop you from tearing a hole in your clothes…

He lets you play with his hand until you manage to take a deep breath. For the second time since the whole fiasco happened, you find yourself confiding your problem with a member. Going into a bit more detail than what you did with Felix.

You told Chan everything while on the floor in that little restroom.

How you first met Jeonghan, how you kept bumping into him after the shows you all did, how you ended up exchanging numbers. To how you kept in touch after that, kept meeting up until he eventually asked you out. Occasionally sneaking out of the dorm to meet up with him at his insistence.

You thought Chan would get mad at that, but he didn’t say anything. Just squeezed your hand to get you to continue with your story.

You told Chan how you caught Jeonghan cheating the first time, and how DK all but dragged you out of there but it didn’t even matter because you saw everything. That messed you up mentally and was the reason why you had messed up a lot during dance practice the next day.

Chan remembers the day you were talking about. He thought something was wrong but kept it to himself, hoping you’d come talk to him about it, but you never did.

You explained the fight that happened a week after catching him back then. How you eventually, and stupidly, ended up forgiving him and continuing the relationship only for him to go behind your back and do it again a couple of days ago.

“So you weren’t sick?” he cuts in, finally breaking his silence.

“I mean…not in the contagious sense…,” you explain while turning to him. He nods, letting you continue as he tries to wipe the dried tears off your face.

“So yeah, Nayeon called me up that Friday night and I had to sneak out to Hongdae. Sorry…about that by the way…,” you clear your throat, avoiding eye contact with him altogether. “So I saw him literally in the act again and had to confront him about it this time. We ended up going outside and basically just having an all-out screaming match with each other. Where, by the way, he tried to gaslight the shit out of me, but it didn’t work. Thankfully, Felix showed up when he did though because Jeonghan ended up grabbing me really hard. Who knows what he could have done if Lix hadn’t gotten there in time.”

You let go of Chan’s hand, which was still intertwined with yours, to rub against your bruised shoulder.

“Wait…he put his hands on you?”

You don’t pick up on his tone as you nod and take off the jeogori jacket layer of your hanbok. Presenting your, now, heavily bruised arm, Chan takes it delicately in his hands.

“I asked the stylist to try to use coverup on it, but it was just so dark and it still hurt so she couldn’t do much about it in the end.”

Gently, he touches the colorfully marred skin not saying a word, his jaw ticking in anger at what he’s seeing.

You don’t even get a word out before he’s up and bolting out of the restroom. Face clouded in rage.

“Ch-Chan!” Scrambling, you grab the jeogori from the ground and run after him, not even bothering to put it back on. “Channie, wait!”

The other members of your group had managed to clear the room of the staff and had been hovering close the door the entire time, waiting patiently for the two of you to come out. What they weren’t expecting was an infuriated Chan and an anxious you to come out of there.

“What’s happening,” Changbin asked, lowkey getting worked up just seeing his leader on edge.

“I’m gonna kill him,” is all Chan says.

“Who?” Han asks, also getting anxious.

“Noona, what happened to your arm?” Innie asks from beside you, gently grabbing your bruised arm. That captures everyone else’s attention. Your face pales as you realize your mistake.

“Is that a bruise?” “Why does it look like a hand?” “Who the hell touched you?” “Noona, are you ok?”

“I— ,” you’re on the verge of panicking, not knowing what to do.

This catches Chan’s attention and breaks the trance of rage he’s in. He makes his way back to you and brings you into a big hug. He holds you in his arms as you try to hide away from everyone’s prying eyes.

But honestly, they’re just so worried about you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Channie whispers into your hair. Shaking your head, you understand everyone’s concerns, you just wish it wasn’t revealed this way.

Keeping your face in Chan’s chest to hide, your muffled response is heard. “Long story short, I got into it with an ex a couple of days ago because he was cheating and he…put his hands on me…”

Just like you thought, they were all visibly upset for you.

“This happened to you…and I was…” Han became visibly pale compared to the others as his actions up until you ran out sprang to his mind. That prompted the other boys, besides Felix, to realize why you had gotten upset enough to leave the set in the first place. All of them immediately apologizing to you, getting upset with themselves and begging for your forgiveness.

“Who is it?” Seungmin asks menacingly from somewhere behind you, voice quivering with emotion. Guard dog mode being activated.

“No, guys—”

“He’s gonna wish he only got a bruised arm once I’m done with him,” Changbin says while rolling his neck in annoyance now. Minho and Felix are taking off their own hanbok’s as I.N and Hyunjin stretch out themselves, preparing for a beatdown.

“Noona, seriously, who did this to you?” Han asks you quietly next to you, mood sad yet protective.

“Guys really, there’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t know what was going on, you don’t have to do anything,” You pipe up, finally pulling away from Chan a little. His arms tighten around you slightly, not wanting to let you go fully.

“Y/N-ah, we have every right to want to have your back on this. He’s not gonna get away with putting his hands on you,” Chan explains to you still upset about all the information that you’ve shared with him.

“No, I get that, I swear,” you rotate in his arms to face the others. “I appreciate all of you wanting to go and kick his ass. But I swear it’s not necessary. Felix already beat the shit out of him. His company put out a statement saying he’s taking a break for a bit for ‘health reasons’.”

All of you turn to Felix, who’s now taking off his headband, cool expression on his face. “I’m not against kicking his ass again, Jellybean.”

You stare at him dumbfounded until you burst into laughter because of course he wouldn’t. None of them would be. Because this is your family away from family. They’re dead set in wanting to protect you, and each other, from any and everything that could be harmful.

The others stare at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind which prompts you to just say, “I love you guys.”

Felix, besides Chan who is still holding you, is the first to step up and give you a very much needed hug. A little confused, the rest of the guys follow suit and you all end up in one massive hug.

Until one of the younger boys starts fighting with Changbin and they all break away.

“Don’t think this lets you off the hook for sneaking out of the dorm, Y/N-ah,” Chan says out loud from behind you as you’re still wrapped in his arms.

“You did what?!” Minho could be heard yelling, which causes you to groan.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[ananxiousgenz]

HEY YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS????? JARTHUR COWBOY AU TIME!!!!!

this one also comes with a bit of info for the beginning:

@percymawce-arts and I have finally given this monster child of ours a name!! from here on out, this fic shall be known as "When the Land was Godless and Free" (a lyric from the song foreigner's god by hozier)!

the chapters we are posting are like. severely out of order. we've just been going crazy behind the scenes (we keep getting good ideas and then discussing/writing them for literal hours, it's a great time). percy basically wrote all of this and i just did some minor edits and left all caps comments screaming about how fucking GOOD this is, so any and all compliments should be directed at him <3

and some trigger warnings: this chapter contains alcohol and some suggestive themes!!

@izel-reblogs and @ellamenop (if you guys want me to stop tagging you please lmk)

“Here’s to John and Arthur! Arthur and John!” Noel shouted, stepping up onto the bar and raising his beer, some of it sloshing over the side of the cup with the motion. “Freaky-ass, sharpshooting, vigilante crime-fighting extraordinaires! Without you two, those gangsters would still be shooting up this charming little town.” He flashed a wink and a gaggle of girls seated behind John giggled. John rolled his eyes. “To John and Arthur!”

“To John and Arthur!” the bar echoed, jovial sounds of conversation and rowdy drinking soon filling the space again. John smiled into his drink, only to choke and nearly fall out of his chair when Noel clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Get ready for a lot of free drinks,” he said, hopping down to the floor. “This town’s full of generous rich folks just waiting for a chance to throw some money around.” 

John groaned. “Does that mean I have to talk to people?”

“I’m afraid so, darlin’,” Noel said, all easy charm and swagger as he leaned up against the bar next to John. “Uh oh. Don’t look now, but there’s one coming up behind you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” John swore under his breath as a young blonde woman in a pink (and startlingly revealing) dress came up to the bar beside him. “That was fast,” he whispered to Noel, who barely managed to hide a snigger.

“Hi!” the woman squealed, her pitch akin to metal nails on glass. John winced. Voice aside, her general disposition was the near equivalent to staring straight into the afternoon sun, and the neon pink of her dress didn’t help matters.

“Can I buy you a drink, cowboy?” she crooned, gently brushing a hand over his shoulder as she smiled far too brightly (the whole blind sharpshooter gig tended to work better when only one of them was blind). 

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh, I don’t-”

“It’s on the house for you, sweetheart. I’ll pay for everything, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. So, how about that drink?” She moved in closer beside him, her hand drifting up his neck and along his jawline. John was only beginning to think of how to politely decline when he felt a looming presence over his shoulder.

“Only if you buy for all of us,” Arthur said, not unkindly. But John had been traveling with him for long enough to recognize the hint of something else beneath the politeness. Not what it was, just that it was there. The woman giggled.

“Well, of course! Anything for our dashing heroes!” John glanced over his shoulder at Arthur. His face was set in stone, watching the woman like a hawk on a rabbit as she slipped a few coins into the bartender’s hand and waited for drinks in return. He looked… tense. Like he was a piece of rope, stretched to the verge of snapping, and if that annoying woman made one wrong move, he would.

Noel raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “You must be a real hit with the ladies,” he murmured into his glass, looking Arthur up and down as he did so. Arthur paid him no mind.

The sunshine woman was not the last to buy them a round of drinks, not by a long shot. Plenty of flirtatious ladies (and a few flirtatious men), thankful patrons and impressed watchmen approached them, hoping to show their gratitude by buying them a shot or a glass of whiskey. Arthur didn’t leave John’s side the whole night, quick to shut down any attempts at seduction by feigning ignorance to the intentions of anyone who approached them. But John knew better. John could see the hard set of his jaw, how he gripped his glass too tightly whenever a scantily clad lady twirled her hair around her finger, or a rambunctious young cowboy leaned too far into John’s personal space. It made John’s heart flutter wildly in his chest. 

The drinks only slowed as the saloon emptied out, leaving Noel, Arthur and John three sheets to the wind, laughing uproariously at something stupid as the morning sun came over the horizon (Oscar had retired hours before, drunker than anyone at the bar much, much faster. Arthur had squeezed his shoulder and bid him goodnight with an expression of concern that made John’s heart clench).

Noel wiped tears from his eyes and looked over John’s shoulder, out the window behind him. When he saw the beginnings of daylight creeping over the horizon, he sighed. (He watched them, Arthur and John, engaged in a quiet but passionate discussion about something he couldn’t parse. They were both flushed and leaning in too close, chuckling at every other word that passed between them, oblivious to the rising sun or the empty saloon or Noel’s hands on their arms, steering them towards their room at the inn upstairs).

John chuckled (he did not giggle, he chuckled) as Noel tossed him into their rented room, with Arthur following soon after. He tripped over a trunk near the foot of the bed on his way in, falling forward onto the mattress with a gentle oof. Arthur laughed at him much too loudly for whatever time it was. 

“Alright, you two,” Noel said, trying to hold back a laugh, “wash up and go to bed. God, I should’ve never given that toast, you’re both insufferable drunks.”

“Oh, shhhhhhh,” Arthur hushed, pulling John out of bed by his wrist. John leaned fully against Arthur in an effort to stay upright. It mostly worked. “You loooooove us,” he laughed. Noel smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes but unable to keep the fond expression off his face. “You keep telling yourselves that.” He wiped his nose and tipped his hat to them. “Goodnight, you two.” Then he closed the door, and it was just them. John and Arthur, Arthur and John. 

“Okay, come on,” John said after a long stretch of silence, inelegantly turning Arthur in the direction of their shared washbasin and mirror. Arthur giggled a bit as John tried to move him forward, mumbling some drinking song under his breath that John didn’t recognize (maybe it’s a British one, John thought lamely). They tripped over each other's feet a few times, but ultimately made it to the edge of the sink without completely falling over. 

When they did, John braced his hands on either side of it with a tired sigh, watching his reflection in the mirror. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead and a flush to his cheeks from the alcohol, but otherwise he seemed in decent condition. A few cuts and scrapes, some new and some old, and his braid was a little out of sorts, but nothing really concerning–

Then all the haziness of the alcohol and the late night was gone because Arthur’s full weight was at his back, his warmth permeating the fabric of John’s shirt and vest. His hot breath fanned across John’s ear and jaw, his eyes fluttering closed with the weight of inebriation. John inhaled shakily, suddenly brought back to shifting bodies and whiskey and fireworks with such vivid clarity it could have been real.

But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. John was drunk. Arthur was drunk, he could barely stand up straight, for fucks sake. He was just using John for support, falling asleep on his shoulder, and… 

And pressing his nose behind John’s ear, ghosting his lips over the back of his jaw. Breathing his name with a pained expression. John’s own expression matched, half lidded eyes never leaving the mirror, tense and pained and wanting, oh-so deeply, for the one thing he knew he couldn’t have.

Despite himself, John’s eyes slipped closed. His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving his body as Arthur hands came up to rest on his hips. His head tilted, granting Arthur access to more of his jaw and neck. And Arthur took it. He didn’t kiss, but he skimmed. Barely there, almost not real, deniable. Like a spirit. Like a gut feeling. Like instinct.

“John…” Arthur breathed. John felt a shiver work its way down his spine at the sound of Arthur’s voice at the base of his skull, reverberating in his head like it was meant to be there. It took every ounce of will that John had to keep the small moan building in the base of his throat from escaping.

“Arthur,” he answered, voice hoarse and quiet. He wanted to open his eyes. Wanted to see himself in the mirror with Arthur over his shoulder, arms around him, nosing at his neck and shoulder, resisting the urge to press warm kisses into his skin. Or maybe to bite. To draw blood. John had never been shown a difference between violence and love. Maybe they weren’t so different. He hoped so. He wanted… 

He wanted to see the look on Arthur’s face. Would it be like it was that day in the cabin? Shocked and a little confused but mostly needy. Yearning for something. Yearning for John. Or would it be darker? Dark like the clouds before a storm, the kind of storm that drowned you with rain and filled the air with electricity. Would it be dark like he was holding back? Like John was? 

But John didn’t open his eyes, no matter how badly he wanted to know. If his eyes stayed closed, he could pretend Arthur’s gentle, delicate touch wasn’t there at all. Just a taste of something more, enough to leave John wanting. Enough for him to imagine. Enough for it to stay a pleasant, alcohol induced dream. If he opened his eyes it would be real, and it would have to stop. And John did not want it to stop.

“John,” Arthur murmured, his voice just above a whisper now. “Open your eyes.” The timbre of it was deep, so much deeper than John had heard it before. How could he have possibly known? How could he know John so well in so little time? So completely? The moan John was holding on to finally slipped past his lips when Arthurs grip on his waist tightened, ever so slightly. “John,” Arthur choked. 

“I can’t,” John whispered as Arthur’s fingers moved from his hips, leaving a burning heat behind in the shape of Arthur’s palm. They trailed up and up, tugging at the buttons of John’s shirt as they went, making his breath hitch. Up to his open collar, nails dragging across John’s collar bone and hollow of his throat. Until they wrapped ever so gently around his neck, the thumb coming up to guide John’s jaw this way and that. John was breathing hard, now.

“Why?” Arthur asked, pressing himself closer, still, to John. John whined.

“I…” I want to. God, I want to. Make me. “Please, Arthur, don’t make me. Please, just–”

John gasped when he felt Arthur’s teeth scrape lightly over the skin of his neck, his hand flying up to grip Arthur’s hair, his shoulder, something. To hold Arthur. But he was stopped by a strong grip on his wrist, which guided his hand back down to the edge of the sink, holding it there. Pinning it. 

“John,” Arthur whispered. John’s chest was rising and falling like Akke’s after a long sprint, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s. Arthur’s thumb caressed his knuckles, white with the strength of his grip on the sink.

“Please,” they said at the same time. John’s brow furrowed, his lips hung parted in anticipation. His mind swung wildly from the present, between Arthur and the mirror with a hand around his throat, to the cabin, pressing Arthur to the wooden floor, pinning his wrists above his head. The burning momentum between them suddenly halted by John’s fear, like a landslide on the track before a train. Now the train was out of control again, brakes screeching against wheels that just wouldn’t stop, sparks flying. Sparks like fireworks. Sparks like live wires. Sparks like exploding gunpowder.

But then the warmth at his back was gone. Along with it the hand at his throat and the one  pinning his own to the sink. The teeth at the junction of his neck and shoulder and the hot breath on his skin vanished, leaving only a stark coldness where they’d been before. John sighed, whether in relief or disappointment he didn’t know, and opened his eyes.

The flush on his face had migrated down his neck and chest, which was exposed now (when had Arthur done that?) and heaving. The ‘light sheen’ of sweat was beading at his temples and brow now, falling in drops down to his jaw, along the bridge of his nose. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide and his neck was bare. 

And Arthur, leaning drunkenly against the wall behind him, arms crossed, expression chilly. He was breathing heavily too, and his face was red like the first hints of daylight in the sky. But it was the hard set of his mouth and brow that made John shiver.

“We should go to bed, John,” he said, voice still raspy. A needy, sad little sound rose from John’s throat then, and John’s hand flew to his mouth, as if to force the offending sound back in. Arthur swallowed and turned, ready to head back to one of the twin beds awaiting them. Side by side and yet still miles apart. “And don’t worry.”

“It’ll all feel like a dream, tomorrow.”

[goosewriting]

Dinner Disaster

summary: after some flirting, reth finally asks reader out for dinner, but it doesn’t go as planned (follows the dinner disaster quest)

relationship: Reth x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Reth’s backstory and interactions, smooching

word count: 5.1k 

A/N: literally no one asked for this but this game is consuming my very being to a molecular level, and this man is a big reason i’m obsessed. btw if any of you play palia or are interested in playing, hmu and we can add each other lol this is set some time after the flirting starts, after reader gets involved in his uh, side business. this is more or less how the quest played out in my head so, yeah, enjoy~

Navigation: Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Since you developed a real green thumb, to the delight and pride of Badruu, you have some extra apples from your tree that you don’t know what to do with. So, as with most of your garden surplus, you decide to bring them to Reth, who will surely find a good use for the produce.

You spot the freckled Majiri behind the bar when you enter the Inn, thinking that he’d probably make an apple pie with the fruit, and that you’d surely get a slice. Your mouth waters at the thought. You wonder when the cook will teach you the recipe; maybe you should ask him. 

Reth’s working the register, finishing some transaction with another human customer, when you place the wooden crate of apples on the bar, and proceed to take a seat on the stool you usually occupy when you visit him at the Inn. Reth gives the apples a curious glance, and talks to you over his shoulder as he hands the customer some change.

“Thanks, babe,” he says without thinking, and you both freeze at his words, as does the human who just paid for a recipe. They shoot you a quick look with raised brows, then silently turn on their heels and walk out of the Inn. Reth slowly turns to you. 

“Sorry, that kinda slipped out,” he says sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “Are we at the babe status yet?”

To be honest, if he had asked you first, you probably would have said no. It’s not your favourite pet name, and he could surely come up with something better. He often calls you sweet tooth, which you’ve actually come to like a lot. But hearing him call you ‘babe’ so matter-of-factly out of nowhere… You’re surprised to realise that you actually like how it sounded, how it sounds coming from him.

“I mean… If you want to be,” you answer after a moment, deciding to tease him a little. “Sure thing, babe.”

Except that it backfires and it ends with both of your faces burning up, which he tries to play off by clearing his throat. 

“Yeah, I’ll still have to get used to it, too,” you chuckle, bringing a hand to your face in an attempt to cover up how flustered you got. “But I like it when you say it.”

“Noted,” he replies, then looks around the Inn to see if someone else will approach the register. As there’s no one else, he fully faces you, leaning slightly over the bar. “Say, what are you up to today?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you reply, starting to count on your fingers. “Hunting, fishing, foraging. Then tending to the vegetable garden. I also need to craft a new chair. Why?”

“A-are you busy later tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your elbow and give him a lopsided smile. 

“I’m never too busy for you,” you offer, and he smiles amusedly at your answer. “You have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking we could have dinner. At your place, maybe?” he asks. “I’ll take care of the food and everything. You just have to show up.”

Up until now, no one has actually visited your house. Sure, you upgraded from your first precarious tent to a proper building, and the Majiri came by every so often to say hi or bring you something, but no one has actually gone into your house. And for some reason the thought of Reth not only being at your place but also being the first one to do so, it makes you a bit nervous… but in a good way.

You realise that he’s still looking at you waiting for an answer, fidgeting with a loose nail on the wooden crate still on the bar. 

“I’d love that, actually,” you reply.

“Great!” He looks actually relieved. As if I would have said no to you asking me out, you think, smiling to yourself. He’s so innocent sometimes. Reth takes the crate and shoves it under the bar somewhere. 

“Then let’s say around 6pm?” he proposes.

“Sounds good,” you agree with a nod. 

Ashura enters the Inn, giving you a warm smile and a wave from afar as he spots you. Given that it’s his boss and you shouldn’t be distracting Reth from work, you take it as your cue to leave.

“See you later then,” you say in a low voice so Ashura can’t hear you.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Reth gives you his usual goodbye. He winks at you and you merely roll your eyes as you turn to exit the place. And just in time, so he can’t see your flustered face. You can’t remember when exactly the winking started, but it never fails to make you weak in the knees.

Once down at the plaza, you refocus on your tasks for the day, mentally making a list of the things to buy, resources to mine and places to go. Then you head for your first stop with a spring in your step. Tonight can’t come quickly enough.

— — —

You come home with a backpack full to the brim of crabs, plants, stones and other goodies. As you set down your things on the grass with a grunt from the weight, you see your palcat coming out of the house to greet you.

“Hey there,” you say, crouching down to scratch her head. She purrs and meows happily. You recently got this companion, and it’s been nice having someone at home to come back to. She often accompanies you when you go out as well, but this morning she was feeling especially lazy and cosy so she stayed in bed. You walk to your storage crate, starting to put everything away, and your cat looks at you with a light tilt to the head as you tell her about your day.

“Oh and actually,” you finish your retelling with the big news. “We’re having a visitor today.”

“Mreow?”

“Yeah, him… So you have to be on your best behaviour, you hear me?” you tell your cat with an accusing finger pointing at her. “We have to make a good impression. If you’re good, you can have lots of treats later, okay?”

She meows again, and you like to think she just agreed; bribes with food always work, after all.

There’s still some time until six, so you tend to your garden, clean yourself and change into a new set of clothes, the nicer one. It’s the only one you own, and it was a gift from Jel. In fact, all the clothing you have was given to you by him in some way or another. You make a mental note to prepare a gift for him for helping you out so much.

Next to your house there’s a nice spot among the trees, near the pond, where you can hear the trickling of water. You grab a big blanket and a lantern, and set everything up for a picnic corner. Even if whatever Reth brought was more of a “plates and cutlery at the table” kind of meal, you could still come out here after and look at the stars a bit. Then, maybe you’ll find the courage to make a proper move on him… You imagine the both of you sitting on the blanket, illuminated only by the warm glow of a candle and the gentle moonlight, you take his hand, he leans in, and… 

You mentally slap yourself to get rid of those thoughts, cheeks ablaze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you reprimand yourself. He may be a bit of a flirt at times, but Reth doesn’t strike you as the type of person to take such feelings lightly. So you have to make sure that he even is into you in the first place. Like actually into you. Suddenly your whole mental scenario shifts, and as you take his hand, he pulls away, disgusted. But wait. Dinner was his idea. He even called you ‘babe’. Surely he must have some interest, right? You’re not just… a side piece? 

Before you can spiral down further, you hear your name being called, although it’s not the voice you were expecting; this one is higher and has a slight lisp. You turn around to find Auni by the gate to your yard. You jog up to where he stands, smiling curiously. Sure, he delivers the mail twice a day, but usually you just find the letters in your mailbox as if they magically appeared; you never saw him actually deliver anything. You wonder if he has a new cool bug to show you.

“Hey Auni!” you greet the boy as you approach him. 

“Hi, I have a delivery for you,” he announces, holding out something for you to take.

“Oh, what is it?”

“Reth paid me in cakes to have this brought to you asap, said it was really important.”

“Oh?” 

You take the letter from him with a thanks, and he says his goodbyes. Why would Reth send a letter when he’s supposed to show up himself? Maybe it’s a treasure hunt kinda thing? 

You open the folded piece of paper, which isn’t even in an envelope, recognising Reth’s handwriting, but it’s even messier and more hurried than usual. The curious smile on your face disappears, your brows furrowing as you read.

Hey, I feel like a HUGE jerk for doing this, but I have to cancel our plans tonight. Something came up that I can’t ignore. Next time we see each other I promise I’ll explain.

- Reth

It feels like your whole body suddenly runs cold, and your hands drop to your sides, your eyes looking ahead at nothing in particular.

Your cat, who had poked her head out the door when she heard Auni, seems to sense the shift in you and approaches, meowing softly, as if asking if everything is okay. You look down at her, and give a light shrug.

“Looks like we won’t have visits after all…” you explain, reading over the letter one more time, then letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s get you something to eat, c’mon.”

She seems to know those words, as she immediately stands up and circles around your legs. Following you inside, she waits for you to get the bowl ready, and once you set it on the ground, she happily digs in.

“Well, at least one of us got a nice dinner.”

You stroke once from her head to her long bushy tail, to which she comically lifts her behind, then you decide to turn in for the night and head to bed, not really feeling hungry despite the eventful day.

— — —

The next morning you wake up to the sunlight shining through your window and fully hitting your face; you forgot to close the blinds the night before. With a squint, you look down at the weight you feel on yourself and find your cat curled up on your lap, which gets a sleepy half smile out of you. 

Picking her up in your arms, you go to close one of the blinds, then make your bed and head to the kitchen for breakfast. You start your routine like normal, having breakfast, taking care of the garden, going through your inventory to check what you need and what you can sell. You take your time, though, not really wanting to head into the village just yet. 

By the time you’re ready to go, it’s almost noon. Usually you’d be at the inn in the morning to say hi to Reth and chat a bit before starting your day. And while you really don’t feel like talking to him after leaving you hanging yesterday, you also know that he’s probably beating himself up about it, even more so if you haven’t been seen all morning. So after heaving a deep sigh, in hopes of letting all anger and frustration exit your body, you walk through the gate down into the village. To your surprise and delight, your cat follows this time.

You make your way towards the central plaza, exchanging greetings with those who walk by you, stopping to have a short chat with Chayne, whom you probably don’t talk to enough. You make a mental note to remedy that.

Somewhere in your mind though, you know you’re just stalling; you should just get it over with. Reth probably has a good explanation. Besides, you don’t want to be mad at him or give him the silent treatment or anything. You miss him, and you do want to see him. You’re just… disappointed. 

Taking one last deep breath as you stand before the Inn, you look down at your palcat and give her a nod. She meows encouragingly. You walk in through the open door, relieved to find it mostly empty. There’s very few people sitting at the tables in the corner, and Ashura isn’t at the reception desk. 

Your eyes find Reth’s behind the bar, and he freezes for a moment. You approach him like you normally would, about to take a seat on your usual stool.

“Wait,” he says before you’re able to fully sit down. You merely shoot him a questioning look. He lowers his voice, shooting a quick glance at the people eating at the tables. “Let’s talk in the back.” 

Reth scribbles something on a piece of paper and places it next to the till, indicating for you to follow him with a nod of his head. You pat the seat you meant to take while commanding your cat to hop onto it, and she does, so you tell her to stay there and wait. Then as you walk to where he said, you take a quick look at the paper; it reads “back in 5”.

You follow Reth into the back room, and you both come to stand in the farthest corner; since there are two archways but only one has a door, this will have to do to stay away from prying ears and curious eyes. You both talk in hushed voices.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says with a sigh, scratching his neck. He drags his eyes up to meet yours, scared of what he might find.  “Please don’t be mad. Are you mad? You can be a little mad. I’m such a jerk–”

“Hey, no need don’t say that,” you interrupt him, and you just look at each other in silence for a second. “I mean, I’m upset, but not in a ‘mad at you’ way. More in a… ‘I was really looking forward to it and was bummed that you had to cancel at the last minute’ way.

“I was really looking forward to it too, it’s just…” Reth runs his hand over his face with a groan. “Yesterday was kind of a mess.”

“What happened?”

“Ashura caught me sneaking into the back rooms after hours. I panicked, so I lied and said I was actually planning a party for him, as a thank you. He liked that idea, so he got off my back, but now I actually have to throw him a dinner party with other people.”

You look to the side, unable to stop the scoff that escapes you. But it isn’t a mocking or offended scoff, it’s more of an amused sharp exhale. 

For a moment, you think back to how you kind of ended up roped into his side hustle of smuggling illicit goods (especially Flow and ancient artifacts, which are very illegal), which is why he was sneaking around in the first place. You’ve been covering for him with Ashura and many others for a while now, and while at first it was more of a personal favour, now you're in too deep. Not that you mind, though. If you’re being honest with yourself, it adds a bit of an exhilarating factor to everyday life. You’re not entirely sure yet about the actual power and meaning of Flow in this society, but it seems to be connected to humans in some way, so you’re at least a little bit interested in it. If you have to investigate and interact with it in secret, then so be it; you also want answers as to what happened to humanity and how you landed here. Besides, it’s one more thing you two can bond over. Literally partners in crime. The thought makes you smile to yourself.

“You’re kind of bad at this whole criminal thing, you know?” you tell him with a playful grin. “Getting strangers involved, almost being caught by your boss.”

He doesn’t seem too amused. 

“I know, I’m…” his demeanour shifts from annoyed at and with himself to almost shy, and he looks down as he bites the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’ve been distracted lately, is all.”

You hum in response, somewhat intrigued. When his gaze comes back up to meet yours though, eyes filled with yearning, the look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to each other. You need to wrap this up.

“So is there anything I can do to help you out?” you ask him.

“What? No, you really don’t need to. You’ve already saved my hide so many times,” he’s quick to dismiss your question. “Besides, cooking is one of the few things I’m actually good at, so I got that covered.”

Suddenly he looks like he just thought of something that you could in fact help out with, but he doesn’t want to say. You give his upper arm a soft push with your fist.

“C’mon, out with it,” you encourage him with a playful smile. 

“Well…” His eyes linger for a second where you touched him. “I need to prepare everything, so I can’t be out and about actually inviting everyone to the dinner party.”

He takes out a paper from his pocket and hands it to you. You skim over it, seeing a list of names.

“If you could invite everyone and let me know how many guests will come, I can make sure to cook the right amout.”

“Got it,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll ask around and probably send Auni back to let you know. He told me you’re paying him in cakes for special deliveries. Think you can sneak another baking session in today on top of dinner? On my tab.”

“Sure thing,” he chuckles, then gets serious again. “And hey, I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Reth, it’s okay, really,” you say, and he’s so close and he looks so sad, you want to hold his face so badly. In fact, your hand is already going up, but you pull back midway, fidgeting with the collar of your shirt instead. “Just… be more careful next time, okay?”

“Yeah…” he sighs. “And thank you, for the invites. I owe you. Again.” 

“Yes, you do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should start charging you with interest.”

He starts patting down his pockets. 

“I don’t have any cash on me at the moment,” he says with a smile, playing along. 

Your answer comes quicker than you can anticipate and you’re unable to stop your words. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of kisses maybe…”

Both of you look at each other a bit shocked.

“Oh. O-oh,” is all he stammers.

Whatever confidence came over you for you to say that, immediately dissipates as Reth turns several shades of pink darker. The tips of his ears look like they might actually catch fire any moment.

“But we can talk about payment later,” you’re quick to add, and clear your throat. “I’ll uhm, get your invites out. You better start on that food.”

“Right. Yes,” he says stiffly, and you both put some space between each other. “Thanks again. And sorry too. And–”

“Reth,” you cut him short again, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. See you later.”

“B-bye.” 

You exit the backroom, calling for your cat, who walks around the bar to find you, and you make a hasty exit through the back, walking down the stairs to your left. As you pass the river, you consider for a moment jumping into the water to cool down. Maybe that would get your heart to slow down again. You fist your shirt over your chest where you can feel the pounding against your ribs. 

An inquisitive meow from the side gets your attention back, and you look down at your companion, who’s looking up at you confusedly.

“Right. We have a job to do,” you say and go to take out the paper with the list from your pocket, except that it’s been in your hand the whole time, and it’s now crumpled and slightly damp because of how clammy your hands were. You cringe a bit at that, commanding yourself to calm down at once. Geez, get a grip on yourself, you think.

It takes a while to track Auni down after everyone else, given that he’s always out on his mail route or out and about exploring, probably trying to catch some bugs. When you finally find him, you give him the list of people who plan to atttend Ashura’s dinner, and send him to Reth to deliver the news with the promise of getting his sticky hands on more cake. This seems to do the trick, and he happily jogs off with the new list stuffed into a side pocket of his gigantic backpack. You look after him as his figure gets smaller and smaller, wondering how he’s even able to carry all that. His equipment is bigger than himself. 

With a shake of your head, you bring your attention back to your own equipment, and get your bow and arrows ready. Today you’re hunting chapaas; Hassian asked for some meat and fur earlier this week and you haven’t been able to deliver yet. 

— — — 

You get back home relatively late, and when you do, the flag on your mailbox is up. Setting down your haul next to it, you get out several letters, looking for a message from Reth. And lo and behold, there’s one from him, this time properly written and folded into an envelope. 

He says that in the end everything worked out, to which you sigh in relief. Ashura doesn’t suspect a thing apparently, and everyone had a great time. He tells you to meet him at your “private spot” tonight, he has something to give you. 

You look at the time, then down at yourself; you’re looking pretty shabby after hunting for hours on end, kneeling down in mud and such. So you quickly change into clean clothes, wash your face and prepare food for your loyal cat. As she happily munches away, you grab your jacket and leave again. Nights can get pretty chilly here, you’ve learned. 

It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the inn, given that you’re essentially bee lining for it. Checking that no one’s following you or sees you enter the inn from the back, you quickly take a left and go down the stairs towards the storage room. Reth gave you the key to it, so you unlock the door and enter, quickly closing it behind you. 

When you turn around, you’re met with the cook on the other side of the room, stopping whatever he was doing on the table, and he stands up to come and meet you.

“Hey sweet tooth, thanks for coming,” he greets you. 

“Hey,” you smile up to him but he looks tense. “Is everything okay? I thought you said the dinner party worked out? “

“No, it did. It’s- It’s not that,” he curses under his breath at himself. 

“What is it then?”

Reth sighs, and you can tell he’s trying to find the right words. So you give him a moment to gather his thoughts, waiting patiently.

“You know… I’m not used to asking for help,” he starts explaining. “Even as a kid, I wouldn't, and I didn't expect others to help, either. It was always just me and Tish against the world. And now there’s you.”

His cheeks flush ever so slightly, and you can start to feel yours mirroring his.

“Here you come, busting into my life,” he says with a soft smile, but it quickly vanishes. “And even though I keep messing up… somehow you’re still here. You’re not sick of me yet.”

You want to interject, as that “yet” doesn’t sit well with you, but he doesn’t let you.

“And more than that, you've put yourself on the line for me, more than once. I honestly don't understand why you keep putting up with me but… I really do appreciate everything you've done and how much you've helped me out, and Tish as well. But the cartel… I- I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. And I don’t want to scare you off either.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want to lose this. So let me make it up to you.”

He steps aside to show you what’s on the table: a container with your favourite food. 

“And I know this is barely enough for everything–”

“Reth, please stop,” you interrupt him before he can spiral further, your voice soft. “I’ll take the food, thank you. It looks delicious. But you really don’t have to try to make up for any of the, uh, side business stuff. Sure, the dinner didn’t work out, but if you say we just have dinner another day, then that is enough for me.”

You step a little closer, your hand tentatively reaching out for his.

“And you don’t have to worry about scaring me off.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper now. “I also don’t want to lose what we have. I’m not going anywhere.”

Reth looks down at your hands as he shyly intertwines his fingers with yours, and when his eyes come back up to meet yours, they’re full of something… new. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a second and back up, and you wonder if he can hear your erratic heartbeat. You’re standing so close to each other right now, it wouldn’t take a lot to close the gap.

“That said, though, about that payment I mentioned…” you trail off.

His jaw clenches, and he looks to the side, pulling back away from you ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” he questions rather bitterly. “About me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, eyes cast down at the floor.

“People will talk. They probably already are. With my reputation and all… I strayed from my Path. Most days I’m convinced people don’t even like my soup. I’m nothing more than a scoundrel.”

Your free hand comes up to gingerly hold his chin and turn his face to make him look at you.

“First of all, I don’t care what people say,” you start refuting his arguments. “Maybe I still don’t understand Majiri tradition, but I think you should be free to choose your own path with no expectations, and change it if you find it doesn’t suit you. And I like your soup. Also, I think being a scoundrel is part of your charm. Is that a bad thing?”

He doesn’t reply immediately, and when he does, his voice is so small you almost miss it. 

“You’re too good for me.”

You pull back slightly to fully look at him, and it breaks your heart a little how earnestly he means that. So you let go of his hand and hug his torso instead, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know what happened that makes you think that, but I will try my best to show you how wrong you are. You deserve good things, Reth. Whatever it is you want, you’re allowed to pursue it.”

He hugs you back, tightly, so you place a kiss to the only place you can reach, which is his jawline just below his ear. You feel him tremble, but if it’s from relief, anticipation or something else, you can’t tell.

“Right now what I want is you,” he says after a moment. 

“Then what are you waiting for.”

Reth lets go only enough for you to come back face to face with him, and he doesn’t waste a second to capture your lips with his. At first it’s shy, new, a sequence of soft pecks, testing the waters. When your hands travel up his chest to cup his face, he relaxes a bit more, kissing you more confidently. His hands slip underneath your open jacket, holding onto your waist and pulling you to him. 

His kisses grow more intense, hungrier, and his tongue finds its way to yours. You can’t help the low moan that escapes you when he presses you further into him, and he practically swallows it. 

As he takes a step forward, you take one backwards, then another and another, until your back hits the door, and you’re being squished between the rough wooden surface and Reth’s body trying to get impossibly close to yours. The impact makes you grunt, and he responds with something between a sigh and a growl, moving away from your lips to attack your neck. You welcome the break to take a breather, panting, and you remember something.

“Wait,” you say between breaths, and immediately Reth stops his soft bites and licks on your throat, also out of breath, and worry starts spreading on his face.

“W-what? Is this okay? I–”

Your hand on his face gently covers his mouth to stop him from talking, while with the other you turn the key below the doorknob to lock the door, which you had forgotten to do when you arrived.

“Just don’t want to risk getting interrupted, is all.”

You take a moment to admire his slightly dishevelled form: the bandana is a bit askew, his pupils are blown out, his cheeks and ears a deep pink. You probably don’t look much different, to be honest. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. 

“Let’s move away from the door, maybe–” you start, and within an instant, strong arms are picking you up under your thighs, carrying you over to the other side of the room and setting you down on the table. 

“Better?” he asks, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Better,” you reply with a smile.

“You said you’re charging me with lots of interest,” he mumbles into your skin as he starts again where he left off earlier. You can only hum in response. “And I plan on paying back what I owe.” 

You pull back a little to look at him, and the newfound confidence and assertiveness in his eyes and voice send a pleasant tingle down your spine. 

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

— — —

A/N 2: what? goose being attacked by brainrot over a freckled red-head who seems confident on the outside but is actually riddled with insecurities and does some illegal stuff to keep his family safe? huh, bet no one saw that one coming 🙄 guess i have ONE TYPE, smh.

A/N 3: if this is something you'd like to see more of, feel free to let me know and i'll add palia to my taglist fandoms for you to sign up :D palia has now been added to my taglist! link in my pinned post~

[seattlesolace]

Heeseung

He’s the type to be dragged anywhere, will be okay with any suggestions you make, be it dinner at a fancy restaurant, a budget food chain, or even just a cozy night at home with delivery food.

When ordering, he’s also the type to let you pick, answering with “I don’t mind,” or “sure, let’s get that.”

Is a very neat and quiet eater, which makes for the perfect dinner partner if you are the talkative type. If you’re not, then you are both comfortable in silence.

Does not say much but still eats a lot. If he sees some food on your plate untouched, he’ll ask if you’re going to eat it.

Proactively orders for you or calls the waiter whenever you need anything.

Orders dessert from the start, knowing your order by heart.

When you offer to split the bill, he reluctantly agrees, but then ends up giving his card to pay full.

You still want to hang out at a café after dinner, and of course he’ll say yes.

Jay

Will opt for a bougie restaurant or a self-grill place where he can showcase his cooking skills.

If you’re at a restaurant, you’ll be asking him about each menu and he’ll tell you everything he knows about it.

If you’re grilling your own food, expect to never touch the tongs, for he will be in charge of all the cooking and plating.

When he confidently says something and the owner or the waiter of the place does the opposite, proving him wrong, you just shoot him a little smile to reassure him that it’s fine.

Seems to fit a lot of food in his mouth but gets full fast, will try to match your pace in eating.

You need a napkin? He’ll reach out for it first. Your chopsticks fell? He’ll give you his before he asks for a new pair. You got something on your mouth? He’ll nonchalantly wipe it away with his thumb.

Don’t even try to offer to split the bill, you won’t even have the chance. He’ll excuse himself to the restrooms and the next thing you know your meal is already paid for.

On the walk home, he’ll discuss with you the plus points of the place you just ate in, and he’s already planning the next dinner date.

Sunghoon

Actually decides on a fixed place before you get the chance to suggest one. His go-to menu: steak.

Recommends the best cut and the best doneness, but in the end let’s you choose according to your taste.

When the meal comes, he asks the waiter to put your plate in front of him, which confuses you, but then he quickly cuts up the steak into pieces before handing over your plate to your side.

He will then listen to you talk while you eat as he cuts his own steak and also try to match your pace.

He’s the type to let you know if you have something on your teeth or your mouth, tapping his own lips while tilting his chin, then offering you a napkin.

Is a bit dad-like in the sense that he encourages you to finish everything on your plate, but if you’re too full then he’ll finish it.

Makes sure all the food you ordered are cleared out before ordering dessert, or offering to get dessert someplace else.

You beat him to paying, and he sulks a bit, but then promises he’ll treat you to the next dinner date.

Jake

Is absolutely delighted when you said you found a new place, asks a lot of questions about it on the way there.

Spends a lot of time figuring out what to order, wondering how big the portion is, also wondering if the owner would be kind enough to give extras.

Places the order for you both and accurately calculates the total that you have to pay later.

When the order comes and he sees how thick the meat is, he dramatically stands up (and you quickly tug his sleeve to pull him back to his seat) while exclaiming “is this for real???”

Is actually, secretly an expert at cooking the meat. He still actively talks to you but never burns a piece or has anything undercooked.

Despite his occasionally embarrassing loud voice, his table manners are quite good. He faces the other side when checking his teeth in your pocket mirror, and he makes sure there’s nothing on your face either.

You both cleared out all the food on your table and he is just looking so proud of you for eating a lot.

Happily splits the bill with you but then he takes you to a café for dessert and ends up paying more, which he doesn’t mind at all.

Sunoo

He has been looking forward to having dinner with you for so long that he almost gave up lunch just so he can eat more with you.

Looks at the menu thoroughly, mentioning each dish and asking what you think about it.

Insists on ordering different menus so you can try each other’s dishes, and so he can switch with you if you’re not fond of your own choice.

Claps softly when the food arrives and then glances at you and just bursts out laughing when he sees your amazed face.

Talks a lot with you when he eats that you literally need to remind him to have a bite before the meal turns cold.

Dinner with him takes hours because you both are slow eaters and active talkers.

You have some leftover in the end, and he suggests that you take the food home in case you get hungry by midnight.

Still takes you to an ice cream place after, claiming that there is always room for dessert.

Jungwon

Shows up at your door with several places to choose from, having done research beforehand. You ended up picking a place that he somehow talks so highly of, sensing that he really wants to go there.

Is just giddy by the time you arrive, and you end up being impressed just by the interior of the place.

Decides to be adventurous and orders a dish you both have never tried before, assuring you that if you don’t like it then he will finish it.

Very polite to the staff and waiters, to the point that he even uses slight aegyo just to get the attention of the workers (adorable, not annoying).

Comments on the taste of food every time he takes a bite, encourages you to take a bite to and anticipates your reaction with wide eyes.

Places food on your plate when you’re too busy talking or commenting on your surroundings.

Beats you to the cashier to pay but then finds out he doesn’t have enough cash, so he sheepishly grins and turns to you.

You both stop by a convenience store on the way home and he gets you all the snacks you want to stock up to make up for it.

Ni-ki

He is team meat all the way, just like Sunghoon, but he is honestly happy to eat wherever you take him.

When reading the menu, he is super focused and quiet that you literally have to wave at him to get his attention, and he ends up asking you what each dish means since there is no visual aid.

Becomes intrigued at every single dish you explain that he then has a hard time deciding on one.

You decide to order three dishes to split between the two of you, and he is sceptical at first but eventually trusts you.

As soon as the food arrives, he takes his chopsticks and split the dishes equally, separating your side from his.

When he sees you take a bite, he notices the doubt in your face, and then when you push your spoon towards his side he gets the memo and ends up finishing the dish you didn’t quite like.

He eats a lot and drinks a lot of water, and by the end of the meal he has to excuse himself to go to the restrooms.

When he comes back, you are already done paying. Feels slightly guilty even though you insist it’s alright, and ends up transferring you his part of the bill on the way home.

© seattlesolace 2024

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[snickerdoodlles]

headcanons behind fic: Chay's allowance and KimChay zero baht dates mentioned in long & short

Kim chokes trying not to laugh. “Seriously Angel?” Chay looks at him, lips pulled into a pouty moue like what? “You only take me out on zero baht dates, but you’ll pay people to draw us as cats?” Chay sniffs primly. “I only use my allowance for education and fine art,” he says, haughty.

Korn giving Porsche and Chay a large allowance comes up in a lot of my fics I think, because I see him giving all of his sons and his wards a large allowance. And for once, it's not actually a part of his usual manipulation and control tactics.

(Well. It's not not about manipulation and control, because everything Korn does involves manipulation and control. Korn absolutely monitors their accounts and purchases, not to mention he's absolutely the sort of person to always have a mental ledger of favors given and owed for everyone, especially family.)

However, he doesn't need to control any of the boys' finances to have control over them and he's so present over all of them that giving them access to their own money (vs having them request it from him directly) doesn't give him any more advantage over them or could even run counter to it.

No, I see Korn giving all the boys a hefty allowance as a personal push back against the ghost of his father.

We don't know anything about grandpa Theerapanyakul beyond the fact that Gun invoked his name while yelling at Korn and the mere comparison of them rattled Korn more than the literal gun war happening in his own home. Of all the terrible fathers in this series, the grandpa takes the cake apparently!

Alongside Korn's deep-seated control issues, he also has this weird...thing where he really, really wants to be seen as a caretaker and good provider. He never outright denies his sons and is seemingly very supportive of them-- Khun was allowed to fall back and be taken care of, Kim was allowed to live separately to become a musician, he paid off judges in the name of Kinn's childhood dream, later he supports Kinn and Porsche's relationship-- and the whole fucked thing with Nampheung and the narrative he's constructed around him taking care of her. Even Korn's relationship with Gun is a little bit weird given how much he talks about competition. Like, he desperately wants to be seen as a good provider and caretaker, he just also can't stop being Korn and has that stupid-ass metaphor with the knife and the apple. It's a very crunchy contradiction.

Anyways, Korn's issues aside, I see Korn giving his sons and later wards personal allowances as a part of his personal image of himself as a good provider.

And Porsche and Chay hate it.

(Porsche reminds Chay they're very grateful. Chay mutters where was this help when Porsche took out an informal loan too young. Porsche hisses and whips his head around for any walls that are listening.)

Chay mostly just tries to ignore the supposed pile of money apparently just...sitting there, for him, and spend no differently than how he usually would (it doesn't feel real, digital money is never real to him). However, after so many years of Porsche sacrificing to save money for his needs and future, Chay can't bring himself to ignore the account completely when it comes to things like school or food. He never actually looks at his account, he mostly just squeezes his eyes shut whenever he uses his card for essentials and waits for the system to deny him, except it never does. That does not make Chay feel any better about the situation.

The only time Chay's close to breaking his "no treats" stance is shortly after he and Kim get together. Chay wants so badly to treat Kim to something really special, but. Money. He frets. He makes a pros and cons list. He paces. He has an entire argument with himself in the mirror. He angsts. He takes one look at Kim's happy face over a candlelight dinner and decides fuck it, that's a guy he's going to spoil to the moon and back, stupid blood money allowance be damned.

Except, as established, Chay's never looked at his actual account, so he goes to Cash the accountant to see what his options are for spoiling dates. Like, he's been paying his tuition and the card always goes through at the grocer or noodle house, and Korn does keep telling him his school allowance includes some extra spending money, but Chay wants to spoil Kim. A band they like will be on tour in Bangkok around Kim's birthday, Chay's gunning for special VIP tickets and some extra money for merch and dinner. Surely stupid rich mafia has plenty of money to spare for that.

Chay: would I, uh, be able to get a little extra money? tickets are 3000 but they're for a really special occasion and-

Cash, thinking about Kinn's 3000 dollar helicopter tickets: I don't care, let me just pull up your account details

Chay: thank you so much 🥺

Then Cash turns his screen around to ask Chay how much money he needs and. That is. A lot of money. So many digits. The decimal certainly in the wrong spot. Then Chay looks to the top of the corner and nearly screams because that's his name on the account, what the fuck?

Cash: Khun Korn said to have enough money to cover your tuition

Chay: [does not point out the initial balance was 3x his four year tuition]

Chay...leaves. He thinks. He doesn't know how he got from Cash's office to his room but his next stop is his bed to scream into his pillow until his throat hurts. Fucking rich people.

In protest, Chay takes Kim out the next evening on a zero baht date. They walk along whatever part of the river's nearest to their university to watch the sunset, have to jump a fence and duck two railings to even find a private sitting space away from any other river goers. The view's passable at best, at least free of most industry stuff thanks to the proximity to school but hardly the most inspiring. Chay spreads out his flannel for them to sit on, and feeds Kim dry packet ramen and stale shrimp chips he got free from a university event. He didn't even buy a drink, they survive off a mostly full bottle of grape soda Chay stole off a friend.

(It's a magical evening for Kim, obviously. Ferreting out little hidden spaces hand-in-hand with Chay, enjoying the nighttime air curled together, eating terrible cheap food that somehow tastes good? This is DOING things to him. He will be bringing a guitar and minimum two water bottles with him next time tho.)

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 08 - Lake]

Warnings: good days and good feels and people being happy <3, emotional conversations by a bonfire, this is pure comfort, ah yes there is also skinny dipping by the lake, and a cute picnic date <3

Wordcount: 10k

a/n: now this is the end :( thank you so much for coming on this journey with me, i hope that you guys could find comfort and healing in this story and here to so many more stories about this universe 💙

Taehyung startles awake, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. The latter is standing over him, staring at the peculiar scene with scrunched brows. 

“Hyung”, Taehyung clears his sleepy throat and sits up, “what are you doing here?” 

They are whispering. 

“Just checking if any of you are awake. How did you manage to share this small bed?” 

Taehyung looks to his side where you and Jungkook are cuddled together. Jungkook has both his arms wrapped around you. You have your chin against his chest which results in your neck to be bent into a weird position and for your mouth to be agape. Jungkook sleeps with his chin almost swallowed in your mouth and his own lips widely agape. 

“These two seem completely gone”, Taehyung stifles a laugh. 

“Yeah, doesn’t look comfortable at all.” 

“Agreed. Come, let us let them sleep”, Taehyung says and rolls out of bed. He makes sure to tug you and Jungkook back in and leaves the room with Yoongi.

“You look better.” 

“I do? What do you mean?” 

Yoongi points at Taehyung’s ankle. 

“You’re not in pain anymore.” 

“I am? Oh! I am!” Taehyung widens his eyes in joyful realization, “oh this is remarkable. I can walk again.”

“Mhm good. You guys were reckless yesterday.” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, “why can’t you merely be happy for me once? Why must you always turn everything into a lecture?” he is teasing, which makes Yoongi laugh. 

“It’s the age, I can’t help it.”

He jogs down the stairs in a light step. Taehyung does the same. 

“Good morning”, your grandmother greets them. She is knitting, sitting on the window seat with a mug of tea by her side.

“Good morning, Agatha. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you for asking, Yoongi dear. And you?” 

“Like a baby.” 

Your grandma scans her eyes over Taehyung’s ankle.

“How are you doing today, Taehyung dear? ___ told me that you and Jungkook had a little accident yesterday. We were worried.” 

“We stupidly jumped down the hayloft.”

“You did? Oh my, oh my”, she gasps, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“Indeed. Jungkook jumped first and I followed in blind worry. Truly, you must know that in the real world we could jump down buildings without hurting ourselves.”

“Oh my, oh my. It was instinct then.”

“Indeed it was and we paid the price. Silly us.”

“But you’re okay again?”

“I am. It feels as if nothing ever happened. Yoongi’s spell truly helped. As did whatever was in the porridge yesterday. I thank you for making it. It was truly remarkable.”

Your grandmother smiles mischievously, “that’s good to hear.”

“What did you put in it for it to taste so healing?” 

“Magic, my dear. Just a little bit of magic.”

“I see. Well, it was truly wonderful. Thank you. Like this, I can enjoy our last day here.”

“Is it already the last day? Oh my, time flies by too quickly”, she says and looks back at her knitting, “what a shame, I got so used to having you here with us.” 

“We will definitely come back many more times”, Taehyung promises.

“Good, oh that is very good to hear”, she snickers mischievously, “I will have to beat you at Schnaps one day.”

Taehyung laughs, “then I must tell you that I will not lose without a fight.”

She laughs, “good. I wouldn’t want an easy fight either way.” 

They exchange a mischievous look with each other and then Taehyung turns his attention to Yoongi instead. The latter is busy making coffee and tea. 

Taehyung comes up behind him to hug his middle, resting his chin on his shoulder. The melody once leaving Yoongi’s lips, gets stuck in his throat, his body tenses up. 

“What are you doing?”

“Friendship hug. I have a lot of catching up to do now that we are friends.”

“Does it have to be hugs? Can’t it be a handshake or a friendly nod?”

“No. No, it has to be hugs”, Taehyung says and gives Yoongi a little squeeze.

“You’re so weird”, Yoongi murmurs, but gives Taehyung’s hand an awkward pet. Just twice then he already pulls back, “okay enough. It’s getting uncomfortable.”

“You held out longer than I imagined”, Taehyung says and steps back, “you are very huggable, hyung.”

“This feels like a curse when you say it”, he jokes and follows it up with a gentle nudge to Taehyung’s chin and a fond, “brat.” 

Then he turns his attention back to the coffee. Taehyung smiles, feeling flutters in his chest. 

“Have you thought about our plan more?” 

“What plan?” Yoongi asks.

“The plan to find your friends.”

“Ah”, Yoongi says and shakes his head, “not yet. I need time.”

“I understand. Well, if you need company on your endeavours, you can always count on me.”

“Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it.” 

The eye contact is fleeting because Yoongi is shy. He clears his throat, scratching the side of his neck.

“Uhm”, he begins and clears his throat again, “carry the tea.”

He walks off with two mugs of coffee and Taehyung is left alone with two mugs of tea. He takes them and follows Yoongi upstairs.

“What are we going to do with them?”

“Wake the others. It’s the last day here, they should spend it well, not sleep till noon.” 

“Yes. I agree. Oh hyung, I am very excited. We could take a walk in the forest or make music together.”

“Mhm, sounds nice.” 

Yoongi uses his elbow to open the bedroom door.

“Wake up you two”, he says as he carries the coffee to the bedside table. He places the mugs on it then gives you and Jungkook a little shake, “wake up.”

Jungkook wakes first, flinching aggressively which in return wakes you. You whine, rolling to your other side so you could bury your face in the pillow. Jungkook grumbles quietly and hides away in the pillow instantly to continue sleeping.

“No snoozing, wake up”, Yoongi tells you in a soft voice and his fingers tracing your hairline. He is smiling fondly, thinking to himself that you look especially beautiful in the morning.

“Go away”, you mumble into the pillow.

He laughs and bends down to kiss your temple, “I’m not leaving.”

“I was dreaming so well, you’re so mean.”

“And you’re missing out on a nice day. Wake up”, he kisses your cheek then straightens up to reach over you to Jungkook. He shakes him gently, cradling his cheek afterwards, “you too, Kookie. Wake up.”

“Five more minutes”, he lulls.

“You two”, Yoongi laughs and steps back, “you’re gonna miss the entire day.”

“Listen to him”, Taehyung says and throws himself over you and Jungkook. He rolls around on top of you, earning himself loud whines, “wake up or I will tickle you.”

“Tae please”, you whine.

“Get off”, Jungkook whines.

“No”, Taehyung says and pinches his side.

Jungkook squeaks and sits up instantly, hitting his hand away.

“It’s not cool, don’t do that”, he whines with a pout.

“But it managed to wake you”, Taehyung says and pinches your side next.

“Tae”, you squeak and writhe away, “don’t do that.”

“Wake up, darling”, Taehyung coos and tickles you again.

“God, you’re so annoying”, you laugh, swiping his hands away as you roll onto your back.

Taehyung laughs and leans down to kiss your cheek. His hands are still on your waist.

“Are you going to fall back to sleep?”

“No god, just don’t tickle me again.”

Taehyung gets off bed, grinning at Yoongi.

“Mission accomplished.”

Yoongi snorts in amusement, “you definitely did. Coffee and tea are on the bedside table. Come down once you’re ready. We’re making breakfast.”

“Oh brekkie”, Jungkook coos with sparkling eyes.

“Mhm, we’re gonna eat it by the lake”, Yoongi says and leaves the room.

“Oh my god, picnic”, you gush, sitting up in excitement.

“Mhm, come on Tae we have lots to do.”

“Do you truly trust me with the kitchen, hyung?” he is teasing, bumping his shoulder with Yoongi as a snicker leaves him.

“No, but I’ll make sure you don’t burn the whole house down”, Yoongi throws back jokingly, making Taehyung laugh and then hug his arm.

The door falls closed behind them. Only you and Jungkook are left. You exchange a look with him. His hair is messy, the pillow is still marked onto his face in red streaks. He meets your eyes and grins sleepily, leaning in to kiss your lips before moving past you to get the coffee.

He sips on it, turning his back to you so he could sit by the window and look outside.

You take the mug of tea, then climb onto his lap. He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Mhm yeah. My neck’s killing me though. What did I do?”

“Don’t know”, Jungkook kisses your neck as he talks, “probably slept weird.”

“Mhm probably”, you say and take a sip of the tea, “mhm Yoongi definitely made this.”

“Yeah, the coffee too. It tastes Yoongi made.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder again, travelling his hand up and down your waist mindlessly.

“Did you sleep well too?” you ask him.

“Mh-hm so well”, he says, “I didn’t even notice that the bed’s so small.”

“Yeah, it’s probably magical because I also had enough space.”

“Magical. Mhm that could be it”, he says and gives you a soft squeeze, “can’t we just stay like this forever? You’re so comfy on my lap.”

You giggle, snuggling closer into him, “I wouldn’t mind. You’re very comfy too.”

“My knees don’t hurt anymore, by the way.”

“They don’t?” you turn in his lap, “Kookie this is amazing. So the magic worked?”

“I think it did. Look”, he lifts you off his lap and hands you his mug so he can lie on his back and kick his feet into the air, “I can do this and it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m so happy. I was so worried.”

“You did really well”, Jungkook sits up and kisses your cheek, “you’re so cool.”

“Yoongi did most of the work.”

“Yeah, well you helped so this makes you just as cool”, he says with a cute smile.

“Thank you, oh god”, you mumble, feeling shy.

He kisses your cheek, then sits back to sip on his coffee, letting his eyes race over your features.

“What?” you ask him shyly.

“I like looking at you”, he smiles softly, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh god”, you instinctively reach up to fix your hair, “I just woke up though.”

“And? I woke up too and do you think I’m ugly?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re not ugly either.”

“Gah Jungkook, stop it”, you gasp and nudge his chest, having to giggle, “you’re so sweet.”

“Heh, you too”, he says and kisses your cheek.

You wash your face and brush your teeth while Jungkook showers. Once he is done, you are already finished, having left the bathroom to get dressed and leave for downstairs. 

Yoongi and Taehyung are in the kitchen. They have the radio running. Taehyung sits by the dining table, slicing fruits while Yoongi is in the midst of filling up containers with breakfast. 

“This already smells amazing.”

They turn their heads in synch, looking at you.

“My darling, you are finally here.”

“I am”, you greet him with a kiss, “how is your ankle?”

“It is as good as new. Look, I can move it without pain.”

“That’s so good to hear. Gosh darling you, I was worried yesterday”, you say, ruffling his hair.

Taehyung grins and looks back at the fruits.

“And you”, you walk to Yoongi, hugging him from the back, “how are you doing, my love?”

“Good. I made breakfast and your grandmother made bread which we can take.”

“Gosh, I’m so happy. Where are they anyways?”

“In town again. Deborah needed that favour today.”

Deborah was one of your grandmother’s friends. Last night, your grandmother told you that she met her friend in town and that she needed help with fixing the lightning and that it could happen that they needed to leave for town today. 

“I see. Gosh, now I’m sad. It’s our last day here and we can’t see them.”

“They promised to be back before dinner.”

“Good. Yeah. I think I would have cried  if we had to leave before saying goodbye to them”, you say and look around the counter, “can I help you with something?”

“No, I’m almost done.”

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can manage”, Yoongi assures you and leaves the hug so he can store the finished breakfast in baskets.

Now without a task and with Yoongi very obviously busy, you sit down next to Taehyung.

“Can I at least help you with something?”

“No, thank you. I am almost finished.”

“It seems that I’m really useless here”, you joke.

“Not useless. We simply enjoy spoiling you”, Taehyung says with a kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, you guys are all so sweet.”

“Mhm this already smells amazing”, Jungkook comes downstairs, dressed in a modern hanbok and with his long hair in a ponytail.

“You look very handsome”, Taehyung says, gazing at him.

“Thank you. It’s a modern hanbok, I thought I’d save it up for the last day”, Jungkook says, posing for all of you.

“It’s very pretty”, you say.

“It fits you”, Yoongi says.

“You are so handsome, truly”, Taehyung says.

Jungkook smiles, then looks around the cottage.

“Are your grandparents outside?”

“No, they’re in town again.”

“Ah. Sad, I would have loved to see them again before we leave.”

“They’ll be back by dinner”, Yoongi assures him and shoulders one of the baskets, “take the second basket, we’re leaving.”

“Okay, hyungie.”

Taehyung takes the third basket and you are tasked with carrying the fabrics bag. Like this and with good mood all around you, you make your way to the lake. The song of birds and the buzzing of insects accompanies you just like every day and the scent of the forest is especially nice today.

The spot, where you and Yoongi had the picnic last time, is already under the shade of the tree. You like that it is because the sun is very hot today. You and Taehyung lay out the blanket and pillows, while Jungkook and Yoongi lay out the food afterwards. It is also important to mention that Taehyung excused himself for a moment and disappeared into the forest. None of you knew what he was planning to do, but you suggested that perhaps he just needed to relieve himself.

You sit down in a circle, leaving a space for Taehyung between you and Jungkook. Yoongi sits opposite of the empty space, pouring lemonade into four cups.

“You can already start”, he tells you, not looking up.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Tae to come back?”

“We should. Where is he anyways? It’s been ten minutes.”

“Maybe he went back to the house because he needed to poop.”

“That could be it, yeah.”

“When I first met you and you ran away from me, I thought that maybe you really needed to poop.”

Jungkook laughs, while Yoongi glances at you awkwardly.

“You did?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Oh god, this is bad. Now I’m embarrassed”, Jungkook snickers.

“I know better these days”, you joke.

“You guys are weird”, Yoongi murmurs, handing out the cups.

“Hey, I didn’t know that you guys don’t have these urges back then”, you defend yourself, making Jungkook chuckle and Yoongi glance at you.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says dryly and looks up, “where were you?”

You and Jungkook look at the path. Taehyung is walking back to you with his hands behind his back.

“I got something for the picnic”, he says and sits down on the empty space. He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of forest flowers.

“Tada!”

“Wow Tae, this is so pretty”, you gasp.

“I plucked them myself. We passed a very big field of flowers when we walked here, so I went back to get some. Do you like them? I thought that perhaps they could add beauty to the picnic.”

“We love them. They’re so pretty. Thank you for plucking them”, you say, pecking his cheek.

“They’re really pretty. Wow, you must have worked so hard”, Jungkook praises him.

“Thanks Tae, you can put them in here”, Yoongi says and fills a fifth cup with water.

Taehyung smiles at all of you with flushed cheeks. You each compliment the flowers one more time and then finally begin with the breakfast. It is useless to say that the breakfast is the best breakfast you have ever tasted. Yoongi’s food has this effect. It is prepared well and it is prepared with love – not only for the food itself but also for the people he makes it for – and one can truly taste it in every bite.

Some time passes where nothing truly significant happens, except that the food gets less and less and your tummies get fuller and fuller. You talk about things just as insignificant and it was so perfectly good this way.

You have reached the sweet part of the breakfast, snacking on the fruits Taehyung sliced when Jungkook lets his eyes run over the wood cutting spot.

“Is this were you cut wood last time, hyungie?”

Yoongi glances at it for a moment, then nods his head.

“Yeah.”

“Nice, that’s cool”, he looks at the lake, “does anyone wanna take a swim later?”

“Definitely”, you say.

“Me too”, Taehyung agrees, “would it bother you if I painted for a while however? The sunlight looks so beautiful right now.”

“Of course not. I could paint something as well”, Jungkook agrees.

And so it happens that the day of insignificant happenings continues after breakfast. Taehyung and Jungkook paint, while you and Yoongi loose yourselves in books. You read and he writes. Truly there is no day more insignificant than this day and that is exactly what makes it so perfect to all of you. It is peaceful, sunny and nice. God knows, you haven’t had such days in a very long time. Knowing that nothing will happen may seem boring to others, but not to your family. Because as long as the most exciting thing of your day is painting and books, it means that the world is at peace and your family is safe.

Jungkook places his pen aside when his drawing is halfway done. He rolls his neck and shoulders, letting out the kind of sound a person makes when they stretch their rusty bodies. Taehyung looks up from the painting.

“Do you want to swim?” he asks him.

“Just taking a short break. I sat in the same position for too long”, he stretches his arms high above his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he groans, “how do humans do that? Aren’t you in constant pain?”

“Are you okay?” you ask him in a chuckle. You are resting with your head on Yoongi’s tummy while the latter uses the basket as a back rest.

“Yeah, just really stiff”, he says mid-stretch. Then he drops his arms again, smacking his lips, “ah, that was nice. What are you painting?” he asks, getting on all fours so he could glance at Taehyung’s painting, “damn, the detail.”

“Do you like it? I find these flowers so beautiful that I needed to paint them.”

“It’s really pretty. Do you wanna see what I drew?”

“I do.”

Jungkook flips his sketchbook. He captured the current moment in black ink. Taehyung with a concentrated pout painting the flowers, Yoongi with the pen between his lips as he thinks of poetry and you with your widened eyes glued to the words in the book. The details aren’t perfect yet, but it is clear which silhouette is supposed to be who.

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Do you guys wanna see too?”

“Of course, show us.”

Jungkook flips the book.

“Kookie, wow”, you sit up, “this is so beautiful.”

Yoongi gawks with parted lips, which means that he is totally enchanted by the drawing.

“Thanks yeah. I still need to draw the details, but my eyes are tired. I need a break”, Jungkook says.

“It’s so pretty, I love it so much. Can I see what you painted too?”

“Of course.”

You crawl over the blanket to look at Taehyung’s canvas. The latter, drapes his arm around your waist and kisses your shoulder.

“Gosh, this is so pretty too. The colours are so nice.”

“Thank you. Do you like the book you are reading?”

“I do. It’s really captivating.”

“I am glad that you do.”

You and he exchange a soft kiss, then you sit back down again, preparing a new cup of lemonade because you feel thirsty.

“Tae, do you wanna take the swim now?” Jungkook asks.

“I do”, Taehyung says and begins undressing himself. Jungkook stands up as well, following his example.

Yoongi glances at them, while you run your eyes over them nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi gasps, ogling their briefs. He regrets it when seconds later, Taehyung pulls it down and exposes everything. Yoongi holds his breath in shock, gawking into his notebook with big eyes.

“Going for a swim”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand, “the last one in the water is a stinky loser.”

“Tae wait, I wasn’t ready”, Jungkook follows him with laughter.

The two men play fight for a little, pushing and pulling each other to stop the other from getting into the water first. Jungkook ends the fight by suddenly wrapping his arm around Taehyung’s thighs and throwing him over his shoulder this way.

Taehyung squeaks, trying to fight his grip, but he can’t. Jungkook walks into the water with him, only letting him down once his head would be under water.

“Now there’s no winner”, Jungkook says.

“You are awful”, Taehyung whines, splashing his face with water.

Jungkook chuckles and drags Taehyung further out the lake with his arm around his waist.

You avert your eyes from them, studying Yoongi. His face is red.

“I didn’t expect them to strip.”

“Me neither”, he says, lowering his book so he could look at you, “I saw Tae’s dick. I didn’t wanna know how he looks.”

“I mean, it’s a good view.”

“You’re not funny.”

You chuckle, “sorry.”

“Brat”, Yoongi says, running his eyes over your hand, “what’s wrong, love?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep touching your neck.”

“Ah that. I think I slept weird. It hurts, it’s giving me a headache.”

Yoongi sits up and places his hands on your shoulders.

“Lie down, I’ll make it better.”

“Really? Oh my god, I love massages”, you say and lie down so your head was resting in the crook of his crossed legs.

Yoongi fixes your hair for you so it wasn’t tugging and pulling, then runs his palms along your forehead and scalp. You grin, closing your eyes.

“This is already amazing.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums and begins his massage. He pays special attention to every inch of your tense neck, traces your features and massages your scalp and shoulders. He even dances his hands up and down your arms. All while the background is filled with Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s inaudible chatter and the song of birds. A slow wind has picked up which makes the leaves dance and babble as well. The sunlight breaks through the canopies, dancing behind your closed eyelids in shades of red and black.

“I can’t believe that today’s the last day. I want this to last forever”, you say after so many moments of nice silence.

“I know. We had a good time here. Although I’m a little sad you didn’t spend the night with me.”

You look up at him.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I looked for you when I didn’t see you in bed, but you were already sleeping when I found you.”

“Gosh no, I’m sorry. The porridge knocked me right out.”

“It’s okay, I figured.”

“The next time we visit, I will make it up to you. I promise.”

“Mhm”, he traces your brows, “I don’t doubt it.”

“Kiss?”

He leans down and kisses your lips, smiling fondly when you caress his cheeks.

“I hope you’re not too sad or angry.”

“No. I just wanted to tell you that you owe me cuddles now”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Min Yoongi, are you actually talking cute right now?”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you fondly.

“Maybe. Don’t tell anyone.”

You roll to your tummy and sit up, resting your weight on your hands so you could kiss his lips. He cradles your cheeks for it, letting you show him the rhythm with a fluttering heart.

You break the kiss with a gentle bite to his lower lip, eliciting a sigh from him.

“My lips are sealed, lover boy”, you whisper, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“That’s a dumb nickname.”

“Yeah? Just like Boongie was?”

“No”, he chuckles, “Boongie was never bad.”

“I see”, you say, closing your eyes when he pulls you into a kiss. He shows you the rhythm this time around, sending flutters through your chest. His kiss tastes so goddamn good. He breaks it with a stub of his nose, sliding his big, tender hands to your neck.

“How’s the headache?” he asks you, rubbing circles on your skin.

“I can’t feel it anymore. You really helped.”

“That’s good”, his eyes soften, he caresses your chin, “princess.”

You lean into his touch, feeling so incredibly giddy.

“Boongie, can you watch me?”

“Sure?”

You sit back and lift your hand, closing your eyes to focus on the energies around you. The trees, the water and sun, the flowers. You focus on the sweet scent and dancing colours, using their good energies to create a flower. You open your eyes, presenting the flower to Yoongi with a blinding smile.

“Tada.”

“You’re such a good girl, princess. Look at you making flowers all on your own”, he praises, making you giggle and do a little happy dance.

“It’s for you”, you say, “can I put it in your hair?”

He tilts his head to you, closing his eyes as you put the blue flower into his hair. You give his ear a little rub before you pull back, gazing at him.

He leans in to kiss you, kissing you on the cheek afterwards.

“My little witch”, he whispers. 

“Yoongi, stop”, you gasp, feeling your heart skip a beat or two.

He smiles lazily, tracing your lips before he pokes your nose.

“Boop.”

“Yoongi, oh my god”, you squeak, falling around his neck to cackle into the crook of his neck.

He laughs, hugging you in order not to fall on his back from the intensity of your love attack.

“What’s wrong? I didn’t even do anything”, he says calmly, even if his racing heart gives him away.

“Oh stop it you, you know exactly what you did. You did the boop”, you say, sitting back to poke his nose, “the boop.”

He ogles your finger, swiping it away gently to hold it instead.

“You’re cute.”

“___!”

You and Yoongi turn your heads upon hearing your name being called. Jungkook is coming out of the water with his eyes glued to you, seeming very determined. He is trying very hard to look cool and mysterious, but the slippery stones and pokey roots make it very hard not to wobble. He is definitely cute.

“Already cold?” you ask him.

“You”, he points at you with furrowed brows.

You point at yourself, “me?”

“You’re coming with me.”

You glance at Taehyung in the background, who obviously waits for Jungkook with a mischievous grin. Almost as if these two made up a plan. A plan to get you.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Jungkook reaches your side. He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, giving your butt a playful spank. He flicks water into Yoongi’s face, calling it a “distraction tactic” when the older man complains in a whine.

“Now you’re mine”, he says, walking back down to the lake.

You finally understand. He is going to carry you into the water.

“Wait Kook wait”, you squeak, wiggling in his hold, “let me at least take off my dress.”

The water is coming closer and closer.

“Kookie please”, you laugh.

Jungkook changes his grip on you so you are in his arms bridal style. He steps into the water and squats down slowly.

“Kook, wait my clothes please”, you beg and wiggle in his arms with lines of laughter on your face.

Jungkook snickers and turns to place you on dry land.

“You are lucky that your begs are my weakness”, he jokes.

You slap his chest gently, “you meanie, you”, you snicker and hurry to get undressed.

You drop your stuff on the ground, squeaking loudly when Jungkook sweeps you off your feet again the second you are naked. Now there is no stopping him. He is walking into the water with you in his arms, smiling oh so brightly at the happy squeaks and squeals you let out.

“Oh it’s so cold! I’m gonna pay you back so bad!” you complain and then you are already submerged completely.

“It’s not even that bad”, Jungkook laughs, carrying you further out onto the lake.

“Yes it is. I was forced to my luck, you meanie you.”

Jungkook giggles when you bite his neck gently, feeling his heart skip a beat.

Taehyung takes over for Jungkook, carrying you in his arms and with his lips nibbling on your jawline.

“Hello there, my beautiful. It seems that our plan to kidnap you was successful”, he coos.

“God you two are awful. Brr it’s so chilly”, you laugh, snuggling yourself closer to Taehyung.

“We’ll warm you”, he purrs, snuggling you back.

Jungkook presses himself close to you on your other side so you are cocooned between them. You must admit, their technique helps splendidly. You are so warm and cozy between their heated bodies despite the cold water. The three of you snicker and laugh, exchanging little kisses as you enjoy the carefree moment.

Soon Taehyung lets go of you, giving you the freedom to swim on your own.

“We were thinking of swimming to the middle of the lake”, Taehyung says, “are you with us?”

“Of course I am”, you say and look at Yoongi, “my love, we’re swimming to the middle. Okay?”

He gives you a thumbs-up and lies down, covering his face with the edge of the blanket.

“He seems happy”, you say and look at your two boys, “loser gets his butt spanked. Go!”

You swim off quickly, cackling mischievously when your two boys whine in complaint.

“Spanks weren’t part of the deal”, Taehyung laughs.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready”, Jungkook whines.

They catch up with you soon. Taehyung pulls you back gently by your ankle.

“Come back you”, he warns with fondness in his eyes.

“I was only kidding”, you laugh and slow down so you were swimming between them, “let’s not race.”

“You are just scared that we would have beat you”, Jungkook says.

“Excuse me, mister? I am a better swimmer than you.”

“Mhm sure you are.”

You flick water at his face, earning yourself a flick of water back.

“Okay, okay truce. Truce”, you cackle.

“Fine, truce”, Jungkook agrees and looks around at the scenery, “it’s so nice here.”

“It truly is”, Taehyung agrees, “and it is the perfect weather for swimming. We must arrange more swimming days at the lake once we are home again.”

“I’d be down for that. It’s gonna be hot in the next few weeks, so it’s perfect.”

“I heard that too. I bet the lake’s gonna be really nice”, Jungkook says.

“We must take Jimin with us as well. He loves to swim in the lake”, Taehyung says, feeling nervous for a while because of past distaste between his best friend and the others.

“Sure, the more the merrier”, you agree.

“I won’t go easy on him by the way, so warn him”, Jungkook jokes, “I will beat him in swimming.”

Taehyung relaxes in relief, “he hates an easy win, so this is perfect.”

You stay by the lake until the sun begins its slow decent. You went for two more swims, taking Jungkook and Taehyung with you each time. Yoongi never went into the water and you didn’t pressure him. He seemed very content in lying under the tree and enjoying the silence.  

Your grandparents have already cooked dinner when you arrive back home, welcoming you with smiles and amazing food. You talk a lot during dinner, taking more time than usual because nobody really wanted this last dinner together to end. In fact, you take so much time that your grandparents excuse themselves straight to bed after dinner, telling you a good night. You decided to stay one more night and leave by the morning, which is why you were only a little bit sad when you watched them leave.

It is Taehyung, who suggests keeping the night going by having a bonfire outside. You and Jungkook agreed instantly and Yoongi did too after he saw how happy you seemed about the idea.

So now bundled up in warmer clothes, you are outside, preparing the fire.

Taehyung hurries to the pile of wood, picking up as many as his arms can carry. Like this, he waddles to the fire pit, peeking over the pieces of wood.

“Help me. I cannot carry all of it alone”, he says.

“Do you even know how to make a fire?” Yoongi teases, walking to the wood pile as well.

“Of course I do. I was born in a time where the only sources of heat were fires”, Taehyung explains, hurrying back to the pile after dropping the logs next to the stone circle.

“It doesn’t mean that you spoiled brat didn’t unlearn it again”, Yoongi says.

Taehyung sends him a look.

“I shall poke you with a stick soon, hyung” he warns, making Yoongi chuckle.

He squats down next to Taehyung and picks up firewood.

“The question is if you still know how to start a fire”, Taehyung says as he nudges him with his shoulder.

“Why?” there is amusement in Yoongi’s eyes as he meets Taehyung’s gaze.

“Because you locked yourself up for most of your life like a little baby.”

Yoongi laughs and slaps his arm gently, “I think we’re equal now.”

Taehyung laughs and nudges Yoongi’s arm. They did enough teasing for now. They both stand up with firewood in their hands and waddle to the fireplace. Taehyung places his stacks down first, sorting them into a pile. Yoongi goes next, letting Taehyung do the sorting because he seems to have his own technique behind it.

“Where should we put it?” you ask with a pile of firewood in your arms.

Jungkook is beside you, carrying even more.

“Put it aside for now. We’ll use it once the fire’s shrinking.”

“Okie dokie”, Jungkook says and helps you set down the wood. He claps into his hands afterwards, resting his hands on his hips, “what now? How are we gonna start the fire?”

“___ is gonna start it.”

“Me? But I have no idea how to.”

“Yeah, you do”, Yoongi says and snaps his fingers to let a small flame appear.

“Wooah”, you and Jungkook gasp, while Taehyung seems as if he already knew the trick.

Yoongi closes his hand. The flame disappears.

“The important thing about fire magic is to remember that fire will always be stronger than you. There is nothing about fire which doesn’t want to consume you if you let it get out of control.”

“And you want me to do what you just did? What if I lose control?”

“You won’t. It’s fairly easy to create a flame and to keep it small”, Yoongi says and starts a flame again, “it’s also important to remember that for as long as the fire you create is still connected with you, it can’t hurt you”, he explains as he allows the flame to consume his entire hand.

“Yoongi, stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself”, you gasp and try to reach for him.

“I don’t feel it at all. The danger is in setting it free. Once the fire leaves your hand, it will do what fire does best. Consume. That is when you can get burned, so never set it free unless you need to.”

“I don’t know if I can do this. I’m scared.”

Yoongi stops the fire in his hand and brushes your cheek gently. His hand feels warm, but not hot. So it truly isn’t dangerous for the person creating it.

“You don’t feel ready?”

You shake your head, “I, I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

“Okay, then I’ll do it. Yes?”

You nod your head, “yes, please.”

“Good job, princess. A good witch knows when a spell is too difficult for them. You’ve done very well in knowing your own limits”, he praises, sending flutters through your tummy.

“Thanks”, you mumble with heated cheeks.

“So how are you going to light the fire now?” Jungkook asks.

“Easy”, Yoongi says and squats down in front of the wood pile. He lights his hand on fire and grabs one of the wooden logs. He grasps it tightly, infecting it with the hot flames until it glows all on its own. He places the log under the other pieces and grabs another one to light it as well. He extinguishes his hand and stands up. His eyes flash orange for a second as he forces the fire to grow. It pulsates rhythmically like a heartbeat and within seconds, the entire pile is aflame in bright, hot fire.

“And you thought that I could do that? This was seriously so impressive.”

“Seriously, hyung. You’re so cool.”

You and Jungkook gush, making Yoongi’s cheeks flush rosy.

“It’s not even that difficult. Fire magic is actually very easy to learn because fire is such a powerful source. It’s dangerous, but easy, which honestly makes it as dangerous as it is.”

“Because every idiot can learn it, right?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi nods his head, “exactly. Every idiot can learn it and many pay the price because of it.”

“I can imagine. Fire has always been scary to me. I really respect it.”

“And you should. Fire isn’t something to play with.”

Taehyung chuckles, making the rest of you look at him.

“Why are you laughing?” Jungkook asks.

“Just because our dear Yoongi can never stop preaching.”

“Yah, I’m just saying”, Yoongi complains, but relaxes when he hears you and Jungkook snicker. He scoffs, softening his features, “I guess I really can’t stop preaching.”

“You’re like a dad”, Jungkook teases.

“I literally said on Tuesday that he’d be the type of dad who would be overly worried at all times and who’d always tell the kids to be careful.”

“Yes, this would be so him”, Jungkook laughs, caressing Yoongi’s back fondly.

“You guys are brats”, Yoongi mumbles and escapes his giddy feelings by sitting down on the ground.

“Wait, hyung I’ll get some blankets and pillows”, Taehyung says and disappears to run to the house.

“Why’s he running? Dirt never hurt anyone before.”

“You’ll complain about it later”, you say. You stand right behind Yoongi, running your fingers over his scalp in a tingly massage.

Yoongi tilts his head back, resting it against your legs.

“Whatever, brat”, he mumbles and closes his eyes, “that feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re so cool, my love.”

Yoongi hums, but his face stays stoic otherwise. You know him well enough by now, that you are aware that this is his way of showing gratitude for a compliment.

Taehyung soon returns with the pillows and blanket you used for the picnic. You help him set it up, using the tree trunks, your grandfather laid around the fire pit to sit on, as your backrests.

You sit between Yoongi and Taehyung, while Jungkook sits on the other side of Yoongi. You are bundled up like this, sharing both the warmth of the fire and that of your bodies.

“So what are we gonna do now?” you ask into the silence.

“I don’t know”, Jungkook answers you.

“We could roast a few marshmallows”, Taehyung suggests.

“I’m not really hungry though.”

“I must admit, me neither”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath, releasing it with a slight pout.

“What if we read something?” Jungkook suggests.

“But I don’t really want to.”

“Yeah, me neither actually”, Jungkook gives up with a pout.

“What if we play UNO?”

“No, this game is awful”, Taehyung instantly says.

“It’s only awful because you always lose”, you laugh.

“And must there be another reason for it to be awful? It is impossible to win.”

“No, it’s not. You’re just bad at it”, Jungkook teases.

“How dare you”, Taehyung gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls and making you and Jungkook laugh with it.

“Ah, you’re so funny”, you say and sigh contently, letting your eyes run over the endless flames. Their dance is almost hypnotising. Never ending and rhythmic, “have we reached a point in our day where we’re bored?” you ask, eyes still glued to the flame as if you were zoning out. It is so relaxing to watch the fire.

“Maybe.”

“Perhaps, we have.”

“Wow, that’s something new. I genuinely can’t remember a day where we were genuinely bored. Either one of us had to be somewhere or we were fighting some evil or we were too busy hunting shadows or being mad at each other. I don’t think that we had a day where we were all bored together.”

“True, yeah.”

“I must admit that I prefer the boredom.”

“Yeah”, you snuggle into Taehyung, “yeah I kinda do too.”

Jungkook rubs Yoongi’s upper back.

“Do you like it too, hyungie?”

“Yeah, I guess”, he says, touching his own ear nervously.

“You don’t seem like it.”

“N-no I do. It just…makes me nervous.”

“The boredom?”

“The peace said boredom means.”

Jungkook kisses his cheek even if that flusters Yoongi immensely.

“Do you wanna talk about it? We’re here for you if you do.”

Yoongi shakes his head, “I guess I’m just paranoid.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, my love”, you say, caressing his thigh.

Yoongi gives you a shy smile, “it’s okay. Thanks”, he takes a deep breath. The darker aura still surrounds him however. You exchange a worried look with Jungkook.

“I have an idea”, Jungkook says.

“Tell us.” 

“How about we each write down something we want to get rid off and then we throw it into the flames?”

“Like a cleansing ritual?”

“Yeah. I think we could all use that. We’ve been through a lot lately and I think we have a few bad things weighing us down. Maybe we could use the last night here to leave the bad things behind.”

“And come back from this journey as people further up their paths of healing”, Taehyung says.

“Exactly.”

“I love this idea very much. I know that I have quite a few things weighing me down.”

“I can think of a few things as well”, you say.

“Me too”, Jungkook agrees, “and you? Do you wanna join, hyungie?”

Yoongi falters for a moment, picking at his own skin.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I”, he says, rubbing his neck shyly, “I want to.”

“Awesome, then we’ll do that. I’ll get the paper”, Jungkook says, leaving the fire.

“Don’t forget the pencils!” Taehyung calls after him.

Jungkook returns very soon, handing out papers and pens. He sits down cross legged, keeping a little distance to all of you so nobody could peek. Soon silence surrounds you where each of you writes down something you want to leave behind. Writing it down already feels healing. It comes easy to Taehyung and Jungkook and feels freeing to you. Yoongi looks around for the first few moments, refusing to write down what burdens him even if he knows every fucking word of it. He repeated it in his head over and over again to the point where he has created its own burdening poet about it. He knows what weighs him down, but is scared to put it on paper. Because writing it down finally makes it real and he doesn’t know if he is ready for that. And so it happens that each of you have finished your papers while Yoongi’s is still empty. You each return to the fire, sitting around it.

“Did everybody write something down?” Jungkook asks.

“I did.”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi lies, glancing at his empty paper.

“Nice, then let’s gather by the fire”, Jungkook says and stands up to walk to the fire. You follow his lead.

“Can I start?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He lifts his hand over the flames, looking at the dancing fire, “I want to keep the uncontrollable hunger here. I know I’m not at the end of my journey to control and that I still have lots to learn, but I want to leave the uncontrollable hunger here. I want to return as a Ripper, who can kiss his lovers the way he was able to kiss them here. I want to return as a Ripper, who might not be able to drink human blood yet but who doesn’t go crazy at the mere sight of it. That’s what I want to leave here, those uncontrollable surges of hunger and violence”, he looks at you and the others, giving you a smile.

You and Taehyung return it, while Yoongi is too shy to do so. Jungkook looks back at the fire and opens his hand. The paper dances down and down until the flames finally swallow it. Jungkook takes a deep breath, folding his hands in front of his chest and closing his eyes as if he was praying.

You and the others do the same because it seemed important to Jungkook. You only open your eyes once you hear Jungkook sigh in relief. He smiles at all of you.

“That felt good. Who wants to go next?”

“May I?”

“Of course, Tae.”

Taehyung lifts his hand, looking into the fire.

“I want to rid myself of the traumatic memories haunting me. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, I am aware of them, so I want to leave this side of me here as well. I want to return as someone who uses his immortality to do good, to create art and make people happy. I want to be someone who stops doubting his place in this family because I finally became someone whose deeds are worthy of it. I want to return as someone who can heal from what was done to him so that one day I will be happy again. And, I know this isn’t something I want to rid myself of but a goal of myself, I want to help Jimin heal as well. He is my best friend and my true mate and one day, I want to see his smile reach his eyes again.”

Taehyung opens his hand, letting the paper sink into the flames. He folds his hands and closes his eyes, you all follow his lead, keeping them closed until he sighs in relief.

He wipes at his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am more than fine”, he assures you, smiling honestly, “my heart feels lighter again. Thank you, Jungkook. This ritual was immensely healing.”

“I’m glad that it could help you. I like what you said”, Jungkook says, intertwining his fingers with Taehyung.

“My turn next”, you say.

“Go ahead.”

You lift your hand, looking into the flames.

“I was raised thinking that I’m unworthy of love, that I’m a burden and that for as long as I’m useful and make no mistakes, I’m wanted. I want to rid myself of this. Being here with you guys and spending time with my grandparents again made me realise that I am very easy to love unconditionally. I know that I’m far from perfect and that I make mistake or do stupid shit sometimes, but you guys and my grandparents never make me feel as if I’m loved less because of it. So I want to come back as someone who loves herself and who doesn’t beat herself up because of small mistakes. I’m human and humans aren’t perfect, but that doesn’t make them less worthy of love.”

You open your hand and let the paper fall into the flames. Just like Taehyung and Jungkook, you fold your hands and close your eyes, thinking your wishes far, far into the endlessness of the universe. Your boys only open their eyes once you sigh in relief.

You smile at them, “I feel so light all of a sudden. This really made me happy.”

“I’m glad it did. You also said really nice things”, Jungkook says, holding your hand as well.

When Yoongi doesn’t immediately start, you all look at him.

“It’s your turn, my love.”

“I know”, he whispers.

“We’re ready whenever you’re ready.”

“I know.”

He lifts his hand. He hesitates. He lowers it again.

“I lied. I didn’t write anything down”, he confesses, showing you the empty paper.

“Why not? Did you not think of anything?”

“I did, but…”

“But what?”

“If I write it down it becomes real.”

“Exactly and then you can throw it into the flames and watch it burn. You could try, maybe it will help.”

“I don’t know”, he looks into the fire with furrowed brows.

“You can also just tell us and throw away the paper as a symbol”, Jungkook suggests.

“I guess I could do that, yeah”, Yoongi whispers.

He needs a few moments to gain courage and when he finally does, he has crumbled the paper in his damp hand.

“I’m scared. I’m not nervous, I’m scared.”

Yoongi’s confession hangs heavy in the air. You are all looking at him. Yoongi doesn’t often confess that he is scared.

“Why are you scared, my love?” you ask him, holding his hand.

“Because one day you’ll have learned control and then we can create the cure.”

Taehyung and Jungkook exchange a look.

“And that means we have to see Namjoon again”, you say.

“Yeah”, Yoongi whispers, nodding his head and squeezing your hand, “I’m scared of that.”

“Because he’ll be mean to you?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi shakes his head. 

“Are you scared that he might break free and use it on you?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi shakes his head again.

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to do it and I guess…I guess I’m also scared that it might kill him.”

“Why are you scared of that? He deserves it”, Taehyung says snappishly, but flushes in embarrassment when you nudge him in warning.

“It’s because he was his best friend once. Let’s try to see his side as well”, you say.

“Is that so?” Taehyung asks, glancing at Yoongi.

Yoongi nods his head, staring into the flames.

“What if it kills him? Then I’m so alone.”

“No, you’re not. You will always have us”, Jungkook says.

“I know, but nobody who gets how it is to be a Creator. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Oh, my love”, you get out, hugging him from the side.

“I’m so angry at myself. I know that he is a monster and that he is everything which makes vampires wrong. I know that he tortured too many people and killed far too many and yet I still don’t want him to die. I’m so angry at myself for feeling this way, for being so scared and, and being a, a fucking hopeful coward. I keep wishing that the cure will bring him back, that he will become the gentle, kind man he was in the past and I know that this is wrong of me to wish. He became a monster, he hurt people I should wish him dead, but I can’t. Why can’t I fucking want him dead?”

“My love, stop that. You’re being really mean to yourself right now.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m the worst.”

“No, you’re not”, you gasp.

“Yes, I am. I’m the reason why so many people burned in the Eternal Scorch, why we were cursed, why vampires exist. I’m even the reason why we are hated. Because I lost control we became hunted, my friends died and Namjoon was shot in the head. He became a monster because of me. I’m the fucking worst.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaims in shock.

“Yoongi, please don’t say that”, you exclaim, “your past mistakes don’t define you anymore. Yeah, you did a lot of shit, but you learned from it and not everything bad which happened was your fault.”

“I can’t feel this way.”

“Do not speak like that”, Taehyung gasps, “you are so very far from being the worst”, he says, hurrying to Yoongi’s side so he could take his hand. Like this, they are clutching Yoongi’s crumbled paper together. 

Yoongi glances at him shyly.

“I have learned a great deal about you during this holiday. You are so very far from being the worst. You love people and you show it through a multitude of ways. Eventhough you always say that you seem cold and rude, you aren’t. You love to cook because it means that your family is fed well, you love to help because you cannot stand to know that people struggle alone, you always carry a fond word on your tongue because you want the people around you to feel good about themselves. You are filled with so much love, hyung, with so much love that you cannot shake the love you once felt for Namjoon.”

Yoongi tightens his jaw, trying so hard to keep the burning in his eyes from producing tears.

“___ always says that I’m full of love”, he whispers.

“Because she speaks the truth. You are. You are full of it and you will never be alone. I understand your hesitation and your fears, so do not struggle alone for you have people by your side who are willing to help you as well.”

Yoongi smiles, “thank you, kiddo”, he whispers and slides his hand out of Taehyung’s gentle hold. He lifts it over the flames.

“I’m scared, but I’m not alone. I guess, what I want to burn is my self-loathing. I get so angry at myself whenever I feel something unpleasant and instead of looking for help, I blame myself for my emotions to the point where I start hating myself. I guess, I don’t wanna hate myself anymore. I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.”

“Trying already means that you are beginning to love yourself. If you still hated yourself, you wouldn’t want to try”, Jungkook says.

“Yeah, yeah I guess it does. Fuck, you guys, stop making me fucking emotional.”

You all laugh fondly, cuddling closer to Yoongi.

“Fuck, this is so stupid”, he says, but continues, “I want to burn my self-loathing and the fear of stuff I can’t control. As much as I try to control the outcome, some things are out of my control. Maybe Namjoon will die, but I can’t control this outcome so instead of being scared of it, I have to learn to live with it.”

He hesitates with opening his hand.

“Can I still wish that he doesn’t die?”

“Of course you can.”

“Then I wanna wish that he doesn’t die and that he becomes the gentle, kind man of the past again”, Yoongi says and opens his hand.

The fire swallows his paper, Yoongi squeezes your hand and Taehyung’s, staring into the flames until the paper is truly gone. He takes a deep breath, releasing it through his mouth.

“How do you feel?”

“Light.”

“I liked what you said, hyungie.”

Yoongi smiles at Jungkook.

“Thank you, kiddo. You had a good idea.”

“I’m grateful that you guys did it with me. Hoseok and Seokjin always do it with me whenever summer ends, so this tradition means a lot to me.”

“Maybe we can do it with them this year. We’ll include Jimin and Emma as well and have a barbeque in the garden”, you suggest.

“I love this idea so much, wow baby”, Jungkook gushes with sparkly eyes.

“I like it too. I wanna make the food”, Yoongi says.

“I bet it’s gonna be so delicious, my love.”

“And we shall each bring our instruments and make music until late into the night”, Taehyung says.

Yoongi smiles, “that’s a good idea, Tae. You know what we could do right now?”

“Tell us.”

“Make music.”

“Hyung, yes!” Taehyung exclaims, “we haven’t made music together in too long!”

“Okay, we’ll do it”, Yoongi says and reaches into the air to pull a guitar and violin from nothing.

“Woah, did you just pull a guitar and violin out of thin air?” 

“Yeah”, Yoongi says, handing the violin to Taehyung, “manifestation magic. The object’s not really permanent, but it’s gonna stay long enough to have fun with it.” 

“What do you channel for that to work?” 

“Yourself in a sense. You reach into your imagination and pull out whatever you imagine.”

“Wait. Like this?” you ask and try it only to fail, “well, bollocks”, you pout, sagging your shoulders.

Yoongi chuckles fondly, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

“You’re cute. That’s difficult magic to learn, give it time.”

“I see. God, you’re so cool Yoongi.” 

‘Mmh”, another kiss then he sits down on the ground. He looks at his guitar and begins tuning it. Its soft clinking and strumming fills the air together with Taehyung tuning his violin. 

The rest of you sit down next to them.

Yoongi relaxes after a few moments by lying down and resting his head on Jungkook’s lap. He is playing the guitar softly, gazing up at him.

“Hey there, hyungie”, he says, combing his fingers through his bangs.

He blinks his eyes at the younger man slowly and gives him a toothless smile. Jungkook continues to play with his hair as Yoongi strums the guitar and gazes at him. 

“Done. Your magical violin was terribly out of tune”, Taehyung says and lies down as well, resting his head on your lap. 

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums. 

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, retorting his smile.

“Comfy?”

“Very, you have comfortable thighs.”

“You’re cute”, you say, combing your fingers through Taehyung’s soft locks.

Taehyung lifts the violin to his chin and begins playing. 

Something truly magical happens then. Yoongi and Taehyung sync within seconds, complimenting each other’s melody until it becomes one lively song. You imagine flowers blooming in spring and the beginning of a trickling stream. It is soft and gentle like a new beginning which will turn into something bigger with them. For now it dances shyly through the air, making the fire shine brighter and the scents of the night stronger. You glance at Jungkook, exchanging a fond smile with him. Life is well. Life is truly and honestly well.

The next song is lively, showcasing the happiness of life being so, so well. Yoongi and Taehyung have to sit up for it, matching each other’s tempos and supporting the other’s melody perfectly. There are parts where Yoongi’s guitar shines and others were Taehyung’s violin has its moment, while other parts are there for them to harmonise.

You think of running through fields or dancing in pubs when you listen to the melody.

They must have played together like this countless times before. Yoongi knows exactly what notes to play to support Taehyung’s vigorous play and Taehyung knows exactly when to slow down to give Yoongi his time to shine. You never figured that guitar and violin go so well together, but they do. Oh you want to jump up and dance. 

“Kookie, do you wanna dance with me?” 

“Dance with you?” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “yes. Oh my god, I would love to dance with you “ 

“Awesome. Come on”, you say and pull him up by his hands. 

And so it happens that you and Jungkook dance under the forest trees while Yoongi and Taehyung accompany you with music. The melodies and your squeaky laughter echoes through the forest, letting every way of life know that time together was a wonderful time.

It will always be a wonderful time.