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yoongsisbae · 3 years

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Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 3

You joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down…

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader / Namjoon x Taehyung x reader this chapter

Oh, I was dying writing this chapter so I think I wrote it well? Heh there’s a lot going on, so you have been warned lol. Also hope to post HOAL soon, that is if BTS would stop attacking me with all these sexy bad boy photoshoots that scream C!HOC mens. Sorry, but can you really blame me? :(

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, reader manipulation, scary yandere behavior, voyeur, masturbation, lots of drinking and drunkenness, dubcon, dry humping on the dance floor lol, this is pretty filthy, all of them are horny, dom!Namjoon, dom!Taehyung, Tae’s a lot, shibari, bondage, blindfold, rough sex, edging, multiple orgasms, threesome, degradation, Yoongi continues to be a meanie, slut shaming, extreme regret for reader that could be triggering I think, tell me if I need to tag anything else

PSA: to reiterate, this is a yandere fic, this is all fantasy, this is scary, no one actually wants this to happen to them irl. But I’m also here for you if you wanna enjoy some hot fictional villains, alright? I got u boo.

Word Count: 8.7k

Playlist: Rotimi - Push Button Start // Shenseea - Blessed (with Tyga) // ROSALIA - Con Altura // Sean Paul - Go Down Deh // Afro B - Drogba // Aya Nakamura - Pookie // DJ Nelson - PAPI //J Balvin - Amarillo // SUPA NYTRO - Tik Pon Cock // Paris Lain - Way (links here)

---

“P-please...”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Your legs are still shaking as you make your way downstairs. You tried not to think about the slick between your thighs as you descended each step, or think about RM’s warm breath against your ear. No, you won’t think about his deep voice that makes you shiver still, or the way he massaged your neck like he had done it a hundred times before...out of all the weird fucked up things you thought could happen tonight, never ever did you expect to meet RM again.

He reminded you of all the reasons why you allowed yourself to fall deeper into that kind of exhibitionistic lifestyle as a carded member. The money was good, but the sweetest rewards were corporal. The saccharine praise your admirers would give you became addicting. You even became close to some of them, for an extra fee.

What was it your old school counselor would say? It wasn’t about the destination, the real reward was the friends you made along the way. Except your new friends told you all their dirty filthy desires and watched as you would get off for them. You learned quickly your sexual appetite was ravenous, the more you indulged the worse it got. You had been starved for attention for so long, quarantine only amplifying your loneliness, and the dark site fed you well.

RM also reminded you of all the reasons why you left. You still don’t understand how you fell so deep so fast, let digital become physical when you promised yourself you wouldn’t. The House Rules made the descent into filth almost inevitable. During your only experience inside The House, you had been shown truths you didn’t want to face, depravities you enjoyed. After that night you went home, showered away your sins until your skin burned, logged out and never logged back in. It was the best way to end your addiction to House of Cards, end it cold turkey.

You were not prepared for this again. You were not prepared for how much you craved it.

---

The party became wild. Your body now hyper aware of everything after RM worked you up so skillfully and denied you any release. The music reverberates throughout the halls, the beats of the bass clashes with the pounding in your head. The smell of drugs and sex assaults your nostrils, and every time a dancer bumps into you, your body remembers RM’s touch.

So many bodies around you and you feel all alone like an outcast. Where’s Yoongi? You're beginning to miss that annoying smirk and the overconfident man attached to it, you could use some of that confidence right now.

As the room spins around you, your eyes find the place where you had been standing. You’re disappointed it’s empty. Not that you knew what RM looked like, but you feel like you’d recognize him as soon as you saw him, a man like that would look like walking sin.

You shift your upward gaze to the gold ropes hanging from the ceiling, eyes traveling down until you meet the glistening body of a woman. She’s so beautiful it makes you ache, arms secured behind her back, her leg extended and tied high, her other leg bent and pressed to her side and her spread open for everyone to see.

You play with the pendant around your neck, and you can’t help but imagine yourself in her position, tied up for everyone to see, for Yoongi to watch. You’re soaking. You need a drink.

---

“Hey,” you bump into Yoongi’s side as you sit down, grabbing his whisky glass and downing what’s left. The burning liquid makes you grimace, face scrunching up in distaste.

He pulls the glass from your grip, looking you up and down, sharp eyes narrowing, “Where have you been?”

“I got lost.” His arm snakes around your waist. His touch feels good, you don’t want to admit how much your body yearns for more, wants to be wanted. “Where are Jimin and Hobi?”

“Dancing,” Taehyung interjects as he gets closer to you, offering you another glass of champagne. You take it gratefully, sipping on the sweet liquid, anything to numb the ache you feel inside.

His eyes sparkle as he scrutinizes you up close, examining your dark makeup and tight dress. He wants to smear the red lipstick on your lips with his fingers, and his mouth, and his cock. He wants to stain your pretty black dress with his cum, let the milky white fluid drip all over the black silky fabric, between your breasts-

“I’m sorry, what is your name again?”

You ask him so innocently, Taehyung can forgive you for forgetting. Jungkook on the other hand, silently simmers with rage, especially when Yoongi smirks at him, sitting pressed to your side like a lover would.

“Taehyung,” The man gives you a big wide smile, “that's Seokjin,” he points to the tall man who keeps his distance, “and this,” he hits Jungkook’s chest and pulls him into a headlock, “is Jungkook!” Taehyung leans in to whisper in your ear, “a big fan.”

Your eyes go wide, did you hear him correctly? You watch the two play fight. Jungkook punches his older friend in the side a bit harder than he was expecting, earning a yell from Taehyung. They act cute, you think, Jungkook looks too innocent, you can’t believe he had watched you in his free time.

Hoseok and Jimin find their way back into the group. “Y/n, you’re back! Yoongi was about to send out a search party for you.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, and you lean your chin onto your palm, raising your eyebrows at him, trying to hide your smile at the way they tease him.

“Is that so?” His fingers pinch the flesh of your back at your retort, making you squirm at the ticklish sensation. When you try to pull his hand away, he takes the opportunity to intertwine your fingers together, pulling you firmly to his side.

You look down at Yoongi’s hand in yours, resting on your hip. Without the alcohol cursing through your veins you might have pushed him off you, but instead you sit buzzed and docile. He acts so possessive of you in front of the others, it makes your heart race. “Well I’m here now.”

“I’ll cheers to that!” Jimin fills everyone’s drinks. 7 glasses clang together and they cheer, making you giggle as you down the glass. One cheers becomes two, and then another bottle comes, until you're welcoming back that hazed state of mind that feels so freeing. The background fades away and the booming music around you becomes muffled as you try your best to focus on the conversation, until you realize you’re in Yoongi’s lap, his veiny hands dancing around your exposed thigh. He says something you can’t hear, so you tilt your head back, resting on his shoulder, whining out a slurred, “what!”

“You’re having too much fun.” He suppresses the urge to move his fingers higher, instead tracing lazy circles into your leg, making you twist in his lap, lips parting as you enjoy the sensation. Your body feels heavy from inebriation, so you lean your weight onto him more, focused on his cold rings against your warm skin.

You move your head closer to his. “You wanted to bring me here, right?” you laugh, and you swivel your body against him, grinding into his lap to the tempo of the music. Yoongi notices the others' heated stares, so he shifts his leg, pressing his hands into your thighs, opening your legs wider, and you’re too drunk to notice or care.

Yoongi tries to hold onto his thinning composure, how many times had he thought of you like this? So receptive and needy in his arms. He enjoys your torturous hip rolls, reveling in the fact that the sight tortures his audience even more. But you’re not really paying attention to that, your body only responding to how the music beat hits so well, his growing erection encouraging you to keep rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.

“Y/n, let's go dance!” Hoseok calls out to you over the music. His request pulls you from your trance. You sit up, shaking the clouded haze from your mind.

“Dance? Okay!” You let Hoseok pull you to your feet, stumbling slightly into him.

You turn to Yoongi, “You don’t mind, do you?” you ask, ready to start a fight. He glares at you. You sway on your feet and glare back. Such a brat, he thinks, you’ll just have to be taught a lesson later. Yoongi picks up his whisky and waves you off.

---

The dance floor is hot and alive with writhing bodies. You let Hoseok roll his hips into you from behind, your own hips following his movements. His toned arms lock around you, holding you, as he pulls your body lower and lower, until you’re crouched to the floor, your bodies connecting again and again as he rubs his hardening bulge into your ass to the beat.

It feels so so good, his warm body on you, seeking pleasure from one another. Every roll and buck helps to release the frustration RM did to you.

Hoseok’s hands pull your dress higher so you can spread your knees wider. He holds the bunched up fabric to your core to keep what’s left of your modesty, and your arms reach behind you to hook around his neck to keep yourself steady.

Hoseok is such a good dancer, masterfully guiding your loose body. You pull and push each other along to the sensual music, shifting your weight against your combined center of gravity as your bodies heat up in each other’s embrace.

Hoseok moves the hair from your neck away, blowing air on the back of your neck. His hand cups your breast, fondling you out in the open, “You like when I do this to you, don’t you Dahlia?” You’re too drunk to catch the pseudonym he uses.

You close your eyes focusing on his hands groping your body, your fingers fisting into his hair, pulling him closer, and his tongue licks off the sweat on your neck. Hoseok knows all the ways to leave you delirious with lust, hands running up and down your body, massaging your curves and leading your hips to meet his. If he’s making you feel this good with your clothes on, you can only imagine how amazing he’d be in bed, hips rolling against you as he fills you up with his stiff cock...

You’re so focused on Hoseok you don’t realize another body moving closer to you, another pair of hands on you, until Taehyung presses himself into your front.

The music fills your head, the dirty words being sung encouraging you to release all your inhibitions. Your arms reach out to run up Taehyung’s abdomen, up and up his chest, loving the feel of his muscles under your fingers.

He places your arms around his neck as he moves forward, his leg slotting between yours. With Hoseok grinding against your back and Taehyung rubbing against your front, you feel like you’re going to combust. The crowd around you is a blur, but everything about them feels so solid, so hard against you. Caged between them, you submit to every caress, every touch from both men.

Taehyung holds the back of your head to keep your eyes on him as Hoseok leaves open mouth kisses on your shoulder. Taehyung’s thumb caresses your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.” his mouth slides across your jaw, under your ear, licking and nibbling at your lobe, giving you goosebumps, “You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

You place your finger over his mouth pushing him away, too embarrassed to hear more, but your hips can’t help but push into him at the praise.

“Come with me,” he pulls you away from Hoseok, his friend winking at him behind your back, and you foolishly follow him through the sea of dancing bodies.

---

Pulling you into a dark corner, he cages you in before you can protest. Lips finding your neck, hooking a finger under your choker, pulling up, forcing your neck to tilt so he can reach more skin. Even if you want more, you still have some sense left in you to know letting Yoongi’s friend do this to you in front of everyone is a bad idea. “W-wait. Yoongi will-”

Taehyung’s arm slams into the wall. The noise startles you into silence. It’s Yoongi, always Yoongi. What about him? He steadies his breathing after noticing your wide eyes.

“Y/n, do you know who I am?” He leans onto the wall hovering over you, dark eyes peering down at you as he waits for your answer.

You feel your stomach drop under his intimidating gaze. “Should I know who you are?”

He answers your question with another question, “Do you know who Yoongi is? Do you really have no idea?” His interrogation takes you aback.

“He’s one of my...v-viewers...”

“Yes, who? You never thought to ask, baby?” Taehyung looks at you so accusingly, you feel ashamed that you can’t answer him.

“Who is he?” You ask.

He smiles, a twisted grin that makes you feel uneasy. Eyes lighting up darkly once his suspicions were proved right.

“How about this, since we both have so many unanswered questions, why don’t we play a game? I’ll answer one of your questions and then you answer one of mine. I’ll even let you go first.” His playful demeanor is back, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“Who are you?”

Taehyung smiles wide. You asked the right question. “I go by V.”

What? “You’re V?”

---

You log into the House of Cards website, open your account to a litany of unread messages. Your eyes skim through them, and one catches your eye. It’s V, the second highest donator from the other night’s stream.

V: you looked so beautiful the other night. I hope to see another broadcast soon...for next time?

V sent you an eighty dollar donation and a link to a lingerie set: pink lace, a sheer see-through pattern on the cups with a matching lace thong and garter belt.

You’ve bought lingerie for men before, for then boyfriends on your anniversaries or Valentine’s day dates, but you’ve never had a man buy you lingerie before. With shipping you’ll still have money left over, so you decide to add some more things in your basket to surprise him for being such a generous donor. It’s not because you had enjoyed his compliments the most during your stream, no. You found a cute pair of thigh high socks and some stick on rhinestones, coming up with a plan to get V’s attention. You squeal once the order goes through, ‘time to arts and craft in this bitch.’

You open his message again, fingers hovering over the keyboard, what should you say? Should you make it sound sexy or cute? ‘C’mon y/n, just flirt.’

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. Just for you sexy <3

Ew ew. No. Before pressing enter you delete the last sentence.

Dahlia: Thank you, V. I will wear it for my next broadcast. See you soon ;)

You go through all your messages, in a much better mood than you’ve been in a long time. You bop your head to the music that flows through your speakers in your living room while coming up with different replies to each new viewer.

It feels good to be stress free, you think, while sipping on cup ramen because you’re still waiting until your earnings clear your account to buy groceries. You’ve managed to answer every message when a new notification dings. V attached a picture.

V: I can’t wait.

Holy... A picture of a shirtless man from the neck down pops up. He’s not overly muscular, but he’s lean and toned, with defined pecs and v-line. Mmm. ‘V’ indeed. His jeans are unbuttoned. His legs spread wide, as if he were inviting you to sit on his lap.

You’re being catfished, you surmise. This man has to be using someone else’s pictures. Or he has a face only a mother could love. Either way, you’ll play with this fantasy. it’s not like you’ll actually ever meet in real life.

So you decide to play along, it’s not like you had work to go to, or anything to do really. Locked up in your tiny home alone and slowly going stir crazy would lead to some unfortunate decisions for you. One of the worst, allowing V to get so close to you.

Abandoning your snacks, you grab your laptop and run to the bedroom, jumping on your bed. Your laptop opens to another risque photo, his jeans zipped even lower. Hand grabbing a very defined bulge resting inside his pants leg. Well fuck.

Dahlia: is that really you?

V: yes baby

V: I wish you were here with me right now. I would make you feel so good, just like you deserve.

V: How about you, am I turning you on?

You clench your legs together instinctively.

Dahlia: you are.

V: are you touching yourself?

Should you lie? You could. But the pictures and his words are doing something to you, you feel jitters and a quick pace and a throbbing core. Suddenly you have an idea.

Dahlia: why don’t you see for yourself?

You create a private room, aim your camera down, mirroring the same angle in V’s picture and send the link to him. You pull the front of your sundress down to show more cleavage and the hem up to show more leg, and you wait.

There’s a notification: ‘1 new viewer.’

V: you look so pretty, you look like a doll

V: I wish I was there.

“Yeah? What would you do to me?”

V: I would spread your legs

You spread your legs at his words. Your stream plays in Taehyung's bedroom, he watches intently, and when your panties come into view he pulls his jeans down to his thighs freeing his hard erection, slowly stroking himself to the sight of your body.

V: fuck, so good baby. being so good for me.

V: I would take off your panties. slowly

You follow his commands and slowly remove your underwear. You like being told what to do, you imagine he’s on the bed with you, telling you everything, guiding your pleasure.

V: touch yourself for me

V: you’re wet already? how cute

V: that’s a good girl, just like that

V: imagine it’s me. my fingers stuffed inside of you, giving you everything you want

V: you’re mine and mine only

V: you’re going to be mine to kiss and fuck. I’ll take care of you baby doll, make you cum all over my fingers. You want that too?

V: you're so pretty baby, you like putting on a filthy show for me? desperate little girl

V: open your legs wider

V: doing so well for me, stay just like that. you’re driving me crazy

V: cum for me

You pulse, moaning out loud, reaching your high. When your lust filled haze clears you don’t feel dirty like before, you feel good. Even better when V sends you another eighty dollar donation.

Taehyung played sweet and affectionate very well. When talking to other House members you’d try your best to keep things as vague as possible, but sometimes you’d let certain things slip with V, and he always listened so well. Shit, he treated you better than your ex. He’d send you sweet messages, gifts, and the hottest body shots. He would do that often, it made you needy for more affection. He was a part of a small group of viewers that you’d offer special private streams to. Little did you know your carefree playdates were Taehyung’s obsessions.

---

Taehyung feels a special kind of gratification at the way you gawk at him, stunned into silence. “Now my turn,” Taehyung’s expression goes from playful to serious in an instant, “Why are you here with Yoongi?”

You swallow, this was V all along. You teetered between happiness and unease, you remembered all the sweet memories you had with him, but this man was still a stranger to you. He keeps staring at you, is this how he looked watching you through the computer screen? Fuck, your imagination could not have dreamed up a sexier man. Oh right, he is waiting for your answer.

You explain to him what happened, Yoongi recognizing you at your job, the agreement you made with him afterwards. Taehyung moves from hovering over you to standing by your side. He listens intently as his eyes scan the crowd. You watch the dancers as you sober up, observing the debauchery you had just been a part of. Taehyung hums as you finish your story.

“Who is-” Taehyung doesn’t let you finish, his eyes staring at the second floor’s balcony. “You looked like you enjoyed yourself. You looked so pretty up there, with my friend’s fingers inside you. You were being such a cute little slut.” His eyes roll back inside his head and he opens his mouth sighing.

He saw you. Did the others- “Did Yoongi see?!” you pull on his arm to get him to focus on you.

“No, he didn’t, just me. My turn!”

You felt tricked, using your question up already.

He turns to face you, leaning his side against the wall. You can't help but notice how he stares at you like he’s undressing you with his eyes, gaze traveling down your body and pausing at every place your skin shows, your cleavage and your thighs. “He really worked you up, you looked so guilty when you came back,” Taehyung’s teasing tone back again, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Yoongi suspected something.”

Your eyes go wide with worry. “I’m willing to keep that secret for you if...” he bites his lip and leans in whispering, “I bet you’re still wet too. Can I have a taste?”

“R-right now?”

“Yes. That’s my turn again! And I’m waiting for my answer.” He gets closer to you, pressing up against you again, his hands brushing against your thigh. You look around, how far away are you from the crowd? How far away are you from Yoongi?

His lips brush against your temple as he leans his jaw against your forehead. “No one will see. Put your hands back on my shoulder, c’mon baby, be good for me.” His body blocks you from everyone’s view.

His head in your hair, taking a long inhale, breathing in your scent, Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your shaky arms obey him, laying loosely on top of his broad shoulders. You lay your head on his chest, even if his words come out smooth, his heart is racing as he moves quickly between your bodies, dipping his long fingers inside you. You try to bite back a moan, but it feels too good.

Taehyung feels like he’s going to burst. You’re so wet, dripping all over his hand. He tries to fight his urges, there’s so many things he wants to do to you. Your soft whimpers sound so beautiful, so much better in person. You’re his to play with, all his.

He groans, pushing you hard against the wall. He looks like he’s going to devour you, your body tenses and you clench around his fingers. It only encourages him on. You grip his shoulders as he drives his hand upward, fingers pushing into you deeply as you fight against gravity, forced to stand on your tiptoes, struggling against him as his mouth attacks your neck, biting down hard. It’s too rough, too fast. “Tae-V-stop!”

His entire body stills against you, except for his fingers, teasing you still as they steadily press around inside your walls. You try to come to your senses, but everything about him unravels you.

He whispers against your forehead. “Last round, baby doll.” His voice raspy and breathing heavy as he holds himself back from tearing the clothes off your body. “One more question for each of us. I know where RM is, do you want to know?”

'RM,' who told you to find him, and V, who knows where. You gasp and nod your head, waiting but Taehyung smiles down at you in silence, fingers sliding out of you, making you whimper and grip the wall for support when he finally gives you space. He stays quiet as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking the wetness off his palm.

Your legs feel like jello, your body buzzes with each shameless lick as you watch him. You swallow the saliva accumulating in your mouth, pushing the lump in your throat down. You know what he wants. You played right into his trap, and the worst part is you want it too.

“Where is he?”

---

“If you think you’re going to keep her all to yourself you’re in for a rude awakening!” Jungkook grits out.

Yoongi sits quietly with his arms folded as Jungkook starts hurling accusations at him. Jin and Hoseok try to calm the youngest down, but it’s no use.

He grabs Yoongi’s collar, the action making Yoongi finally snap, and without warning Yoongi punches him squarely in the face. Yoongi had taken advantage of his friends holding Jungkook back and distracting him, satisfied when the young man recoils, stumbling back.

Before he can really lose it, Hoseok and Jimin drag Jungkook away, as the youngest screams all the ways he’s going to make Yoongi pay, not even aware of the blood leaking from his nose. Jin pulls Yoongi away in the opposite direction, “We need to talk.”

Jin walks Yoongi outside so they can both get some fresh air and clear their heads.

“He needs to learn not to disrespect his elders,” Yoongi mutters, wiping the blood off his knuckles.

“You know how he gets,” Jin counters, “Don’t act like you didn’t want that exact reaction from him. You were egging him on all night with y/n.”

Yoongi scoffs. He can’t stand how Jungkook acts like you belong with him. Jungkook is crazy. He’s too hot-headed and oversensitive, the complete opposite of Yoongi. The youngest suffers from inexperience and naivety. All that bark, and he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. No, Jungkook doesn’t deserve you, Yoongi thinks, he could never take care of you like Yoongi could.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish? You brought y/n back and we’re all happy for that, but if Jungkook is right, then I’m going to have to agree with him, brother.” Jin squeezes his friend’s shoulder and Yoongi shakes him off.

“I wasn’t going to keep her locked away.” Yoongi says dismissively. Not that he didn't think once or twice about it.

“How gracious of you.”

“Listen, I found her. She chose me before and she’ll choose me again. The last time you were with her, what happened, Brother? Hobi and Jimin, Jungkook and even you can fight over her all you want. In the end, she will come back to me.”

Jin smiles, he will let Yoongi think that. “And where is your y/n now?”

“I’ll go find her,” Yoongi goes to leave, itching to get you by his side again.

Jin’s hand on his chest stops him. Jin can’t help but smile at his poor friend’s situation, he had been tricked by the two youngest, a plan they orchestrated themselves and everyone else went along with. But Jin couldn’t keep his friend in the dark any longer, especially when revealing the truth would make the aftermath that much more entertaining for Jin.

“I have to tell you something.”

---

You stand in front of the door Taehyung had led you to, your nerves on high alert. Taehyung stands behind you, humming to himself. His arm reaches over your shoulder to rapt three knocks on the door.

As the door knob turns, Taehyung exclaims behind you, “Oh! I forgot.” His long fingers cover your eyes, as he pulls your head back, your body stumbling and crashing against him.

“Taehyung!”

“Shh. Calm down, it’s more fun this way,” he whispers in your ear as you hear the door creak open.

“What do we have here?”

“I brought her for you,” Taehyung purrs. You can feel his chest puff up behind you, he’s ecstatic, you played his game so perfectly, he was so proud of you.

“Good boy.”

You feel fingers wrap around yours as Namjoon brings your hands to his lips, caressing your knuckles. “And what about you? Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

---

Jimin tends to Jungkook’s bleeding nose as Hoseok pours himself a drink. “Thanks for taking one for the team, Kookie.”

Jungkook keeps his head tilted back to stop the blood, glancing over to Hoseok, lips curving in a smile, he’s happy that he accomplished his part of the plan successfully, “I’m going to kill that bastard.”

Jimin flicks him in the forehead. “No you’re not, unless you want y/n to never forgive you.”

“She won’t,” he pouts, “she acts like she hates him. I’ll be doing her a favor.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

---

The room is quiet, too quiet compared to the raucous party outside. So when Taehyung drags a chair from the corner of the room, the wood scraping against the floor sounds all the more foreboding. Goosebumps bloom on your body as if Taehyung dragged his fingernails along your skin instead.

You sit kneeling on the floor waiting, knees tucked underneath you. RM sits on the bed behind you, legs outstretched and you between them. You stare down at his shoes, shiny black loafers, and glance at his pants legs on either side of you. It's the first time you’ve ever seen a part of him. You want to look up so badly, the idea sits heavy on you, tensing every muscle in your body as you fight your curiosity. The only thing you want more is to find out what will happen if you obey them.

Taehyung pulls the chair right in front of you, facing the bed, you and RM. Another pair of shoes brush against your knees as Taehyung takes a seat.

RM’s fingers rest atop your head and keep your head tilted down while he waits for his friend to situate himself. Until eventually RM moves behind you, fingers fisting your hair and pulling you to your feet. “Go sit on his lap.”

Taehyung sits looking at you like he's just been given first place prize, smirking pridefully as you walk towards him on shaky legs. His shirt is already unbuttoned, tan skin and taunt muscles in full view. That's V, all right. Your insides ache for him, his seduction luring you in like a firefly to light.

Your dress stretches around your thighs as you straddle him, his hands grabbing at your ass and pulling your body into his.

You hear RM’s low voice growl behind you, “Kiss him.”

For a moment you think about the intense quiet man who brought you to this island, his piercing eyes flashing through your mind until Taehyung’s lips crash into yours and you can only think about how sweet the man devouring you tastes, and you kiss him back, exploring his mouth with your tongue.

His hands grope your body, pull your face closer, force away the fabric of your clothes. His touch is everywhere, keeping you distracted only on him as RM sets things up behind you.

RM pulls off his tie as Taehyung’s hands move to either side of your face, and he pulls you away from him, leaving one last peck on your lips, “You’re doing so well, baby doll. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

“V...Taehyung, I-I’ve wanted this too.”

“Will you do what I say?” You feel RM’s hands unzip the back of your dress, the fabric lowers and exposes your chest. Taehyung’s grip on your face tightens as you’re momentarily distracted, bringing your attention back to him.

“Yes.”

“I want you to fuck RM while I watch.”

He what who?

Taehyung brings his hips up causing you to lose your balance when he senses your hesitation, his hard length rubs against your aching core, “Don’t you want to? You wanted so badly for me to take you to him, didn’t you? All you have to do is say yes.”

His thumb traces your jaw as RM lowers his black tie across your eyes. Your heartbeat races, your thighs clench around Taehyung’s legs making him moan and buck into your heat. You shudder and RM secures his tie behind your head with a tight knot.

“Tae...” your fingers tighten into the loose fabric of his shirt at your sudden loss in vision.

Taehyung clasps his hands around yours, holding your wrists together as RM presses himself against your back, and you feel ropes being wrapped around your wrists. “You’re so pretty like this, remember last time?”

You do remember. Fuck, how did you end up like this again? This is all Yoongi’s fault.

RM’s hand wraps around your neck and his deep voice speaks in your ear, “Answer him, baby girl.”

“I-I remember.” You want to cry, you want to cum, you want them to stop this torture.

“Let us make you feel good again,” Taehyung’s voice lowers even deeper than RM’s.

“I...okay.”

“You’ll let RM use you?” You nod your head, grateful you can’t see them. You let yourself hide behind the makeshift blindfold.

“Use your words, I want to hear you say it,” RM demands.

“I want you to use me,” you sit and wait, embarrassed the words left your mouth so easily. The lack of response makes your insides churn, you can’t see the way they smile at each other. If Yoongi wants to make you only his, they are just going to have to destroy you for any other man.

RM’s grip around your neck tightens, arm wrapping around your body as he lifts you off your feet. You land on the soft covers of the bed, you have no time to adjust to the drastic change of orientation before you feel harsh tugs as RM works to undress you, throwing the clothes over to Taehyung who takes his time breathing in your scent, licking the moistness from the fabric.

Namjoon pulls on the rope wrapped around your wrists placing them high above your head, his weight bears down on top of your leg as he grabs your other leg and spreads you wide. The way Taehyung moans reach your ears you suspect he has full view of your naked body. You wiggle against RM’s hold as best you can.

“Mmmm so needy and I’m not even doing anything yet.” RM’s hand leaves your wrists as he moves lower, resting his upper body on top of yours, effectively pinning your lower body down. Having full reign to play with you in this position, you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. Your tied hands explore the expanse of his back, his shoulders so wide you can’t reach around to end his teasing, you can only moan and whimper at his slow ministrations.

“Ahh so wet,” RM massages everywhere except the place you want him most.

This is mean, this is tortuous, you’ve obeyed them and they still tease you. You cry out in frustration, clenching every time his fingers poke at your hole, RM’s grip on your thigh is too tight to move even an inch. You shove his back with your tied hands and RM laughs.

“Tae, help me out.” You feel fingers finally pressing into your aching clit, rubbing slow circles, making you cry out. RM’s fingers continue to drag across your lips, gathering the wetness that drips from your core. They slowly and steadily work the tension out of you until you’re numb with pleasure.

You let out a scream when your orgasm finally hits you. After being tortured all night, teased until you were delirious, the release becomes so intense you black out, and when you come to RM is pumping his fingers into you roughly. Your body seizes up again, racing into another orgasm. He rocks his hand into you, thumb rubbing your sensitive hood, and you release again. But RM doesn’t stop. He takes and takes, leaving you breathless. The sounds of your wetness fills the room, mixing with Taehyung’s grunts and moans at your helpless state.

“I c-can’t...too sensitive!”

“This is what you wanted, for Daddy to use you. Take it.”

Your tied hands try to move RM’s body off of you, but he is like a boulder on top of your body, unaffected by your hits. You struggle until his pleasure overtakes the pain, and you fall back, losing yourself in the way his fingers fill you up, hitting the deepest parts of you so skillfully. You stop fighting and accept the power he holds over you, he is making you feel so good you want him to take it, the thought sends you hurtling into another orgasm, tightening again around his fingers.

He can feel how close you are. “Be a good girl and give me one more,” RM groans, “that’s it.”

You’re wailing in pleasure now, unable to stop your cries. Your weak body shaking in his grasp. You feel something wet hit your outstretched thigh. Taehyung’s deep grunts of release finally undoing the coil inside you, and you orgasm for a third time around RM’s fingers.

RM lets go of you finally and you lie boneless, breathing ragged, blind and numb to the world. The air feels cool on your sweaty body as you come down from your high. You feel the bed dip as RM joins you again. Before he had been fully dressed, now you can feel his warm skin against your slippery body.

He lays himself between your legs. His lips finally meet yours, they feel full. You moan into his mouth as his tongue plays with yours. You want to touch his face but your arms are still tied together, so you caress his hair instead, the back of his neck, his muscular shoulders, trying to feel as much as you can.

His hard length brushes against your oversensitive core, his mouth swallowing your whimpers as he pushes himself in. You’re so wet there’s no resistance, but the stretch still leaves you gasping. His thrusts are hard and deep, you focus on how the weight of his body feels on top of yours as he uses you to reach his high. “You’re taking Daddy so well, baby.”

“T-Thank you, Daddy,” you stutter out between moans.

RM holds your wrists down as he finishes, releasing deep inside you. You feel every pulse from his cock, the pressure almost becoming too much as he fills you up.

You hear the familiar scrape of the chair again as Taehyung comes closer, fingers wiping away the tears on your face making you feel cared for. You don’t see how he licks your salty tears off his hand.

RM lifts your tired body in his arms, cradling you to his chest. He puts you in his lap as he takes a seat in the vacant chair.

“Tae has been such a patient boy, I think it’s time for his reward.”

RM moves your body so your back is flush against his, pulling the rope on your hands around his head, locking your arms. His hand massages up and down your legs, putting his knees in between yours.

“Kneel.” You realize RM is addressing Taehyung. He spreads his legs to make room for Taehyung, forcing your legs open in the process.

“RM-” Namjoon places his hand over your mouth, the same way he did at the party, stifling your scream as Taehyung buries his face into your pussy.

Taehyung eats you out while RM keeps you open, until you’re shaking in his lap, until you can’t form anything coherent anymore, until you’re so sensitive Taehyung’s lips around your clit is the only thought in your head, the drag of his tongue pulling away from you the last thing you feel before exhaustion sends you into the deepest sleep of your life.

---

You wake up alone.

You pull the sheets closer to your naked body as you look around the vacant room. Everything is moved back to its place, floor empty. You search the ground for your clothes but there’s nothing there. You pull yourself out of bed, trying to ignore your aching joints and pounding head. You look for your clothes but there’s nothing. You search the entire room, the closet is empty, the dresser is empty, there’s not even a towel in the bathroom. Where the hell are your clothes?!

You make your way back into bed, pulling the covers over your body.

Oh fuck, what are you going to do?

What time is it? They just left you and took your clothes. What kind of sick game is Taehyung playing now? Tears well up in your eyes.

You feel more confused than ever, Taehyung had been so sweet to you before, you had often fantasized meeting him, but he was so different in person. You hadn’t expected this. He’s going to come back, right? Right?!

You are pulled away from your thoughts at the sound of the door creaking open.

“I see you’ve been a very bad girl.” Your eyes widen as Yoongi makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He looks as smug as ever, holding a hanger over his shoulder.

“A-Are those my clothes?”

“Are these the clothes I gave you last night? No, looks like you fucked yourself out of those.” You pull the bedsheet closer to you, gritting your teeth, blinking away your tears.

“Yoongi...”

“Hmm?” He leans against the bedpost, the clothes hanger hanging off one finger. You want to punch him, but you know you're walking on thin ice already.

“P-please help me.”

“You lost the clothes I got you. Why should I give you more?” You can tell he’s itching to humiliate you.

“So you’re just going to leave me here naked?!” you yell at him.

His eyes narrow. He grabs the bedsheet and pulls, dragging it off your body before you can stop him. You wrap your arms around your chest and pull your legs together.

“I should, after what you did!” Yoongi screams, “Whoring yourself out to my friends. Two at the same time, enjoy yourself? Fucking slut.” His words sting you. How could you fuck up so badly, you just let yourself become overtaken by lust.

“Now look at you. You let them take advantage of you. They used you and they left you with nothing. What would you have done if I didn’t find you?” He crosses his arms, his cold eyes glaring at you.

You burst into tears. Is he right? Is that what they did to you? “I’m-s-so-sorry,” you manage to say between sobs.

He sighs, “I’m here now.” You need him, he’s going to make you see that. He moves closer, lifting your chin to look at him. “If they had taken this,” his hand brushes your choker, “I would have killed them.”

You look at him pleadingly, trying to silence your sniffles. He offers you the clothes hanger, “Change into this.”

---

You unzip the clothes bag and pull out a dress with a light flowery pattern. The fabric is sheer and flowy. The matching lingerie set is pastel pink and strappy. Well, even if he is an asshole at least you can count on Yoongi to make you look good. You clean up your makeup and style your hair as best you can in the empty bathroom, removing what's left of the smudged dark eyeshadow, pushing thoughts from last night away. The more you try to make sense of what transpired, the more confused you become, and remembering just makes you feel hot all over.

Yoongi pushes himself off the wall when you open the door.

There is still music playing, still people dancing, a lot less than the night before, but you’re amazed there are any at all.

“Does the party ever end?” you think out loud.

“Only if you want it to.”

Yoongi leads you outside. When you reach the backyard you realize the party truly never really ended, only moved. Partygoers lounge by the pool, drinking and eating.

“Is that a fucking mermaid?” Girls dressed up in tails lay about the pool, you're about to run towards them when Yoongi pulls you away from the pool. “Let’s eat before you decide to go make friends.”

You walk in step. He looks put together as always, wearing simple light clothes, a white shirt tucked into tan pants, an unbuttoned collared shirt on top.

“Is everyone here a House member?” You ask, finally sober enough to start learning some things.

“Yes, I thought it was obvious. It’s nothing official. Just a get-together after our quarterly meeting, something for our investors.”

Right, never did you just have a ‘get-together’ like this. It's annoying how out of touch they are.

You see the familiar faces of his friends sitting in a secluded area. Before you and Yoongi get within earshot he grabs your arm.

“If Taehyung and Jungkook try to touch you again, let me know, will you?”

Wait, Jungkook is RM? What? No way, that doesn’t make any sense. He can’t be, he was downstairs when you first met RM. But why does Yoongi think you fucked him? Jungkook is not RM. Though, you remember how he never spoke to you.

His grip on you tightens when you don’t answer, “Y/n…”

“Okay, okay.”

---

Jungkook watches you and Yoongi whispering to one another. You look flustered when Yoongi places a soft kiss on your cheek before breaking away.

He takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples to take the tension away. When he looks up again, Yoongi and you are walking towards the group, your eyes fixated on...him? Jungkook breaks eye contact and looks back at you...and you’re still staring at him. He keeps eye contact with you, face going redder and redder.

He watches as you greet his friends, eyes glancing his way too frequently to call it a coincidence. What the fuck did Yoongi tell you to make you look at him like he grew three heads?

---

“I’ll be right back.” Yoongi makes his way to the far end of the party where Seokjin is talking to another man. You watch as Yoongi embraces the stranger, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen Yoongi smile, not a self satisfied smirk or a threatening grin, but a genuine smile showing off his gums that make the intimidating man look actually cute. The stranger gives him a dimpled smile in return.

“Who’s that with Seokjin?” you ask Jimin.

He looks over to where you're pointing, Jimin's expression full of mirth, “That’s Namjoon, looks like he made it to the party after all.”

“Oh.”

Jimin pulls on your arm, turning you to him, “Let’s go swimming!”

“Oh, but I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“That’s okay, you can go in your underwear,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” Jimin whines as you get up, and you promise him it will only take a minute. You know you’d never get a chance to talk to Jungkook with Yoongi by your side, the two of them seem to have an odd tension between them. But now that Yoongi is distracted with Seokjin and Namjoon, it’s the perfect opportunity.

“Er hello?”

Jungkook’s wide doe eyes looks up at you. “Hello...”

Okay, he definitely doesn’t sound like RM. “Hi, I didn’t get to talk to you last night. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh, hi.”

“...hi.”

This is painfully awkward. You study his frame...he is built. The tank top he’s wearing shows off his broad shoulders and muscular tattooed arms, he looks strong like how you imagine RM. Maybe if you kiss him...

Jungkook watches as you peer over his back. “Dahlia…”

“Hmm? Oh, just call me y/n.” you insist, the alias making you feel self-conscious.

“I missed talking to you...so much.”

“We talked?” Is he really RM? No, it doesn’t feel like him at all.

Jungkook bites his lower lip. His front teeth pressing into his round lips makes him look cute, you think, like a scared rabbit.

“Yes, we used to talk a lot, before...” he bites back the words so he doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “My username is..” Ugh, Jungkook can’t believe he’s saying this to you out loud, why did he have to choose such a dumb username? “PlayboyJK.”

“Oh, oh! I remember you!” You remember your conversations with him. He was a good tipper, a bit unconventional in his requests, but he was always one of the first viewers to your stream.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you would watch me.”

“Why?”

“You’re just so...handsome? I’m just surprised, I guess!”

Jungkook’s ears go red at the compliment. You’re so perfect, you’re a goddess. He’d watch you all day every day, he’d watch you sleep. How could you think he wouldn’t want to watch you?

“I think you’re so beautiful, I like you a lot.”

“T-Thank you,”

“Are you going to start streaming again?

“Ha no no. I put all that behind me. Well, I thought I did,” you say after noticing Jungkook’s confused expression. “Um, it’s a long story.”

“Oh, you don’t have to join again. I could, um, pay you directly.”

“You’d pay me? For what?” you laugh, but you're curious to hear his answer.

“For anything, I’d pay you...just be with me.” you look into Jungkook’s wide eyes, so determined. Maybe if Yoongi had asked you this way, you would have considered it.

“I-HEY!” You squeal as Hoseok lifts you out of your seat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look of dismay as he pulls the younger man to his feet too.

Somehow you ended up in the pool with your dress still on. The sheer fabric doing little to hide the lingerie underneath for all the men to see.

---

The sun has already left the horizon while you sit on the deck of Yoongi’s yacht, drying off your body from the day's watery fun. You listen to the waves hit the walls of his boat as it sloshes around in the water, the rhythm like a whispering melody. The twilight casts everything in blue, the smell of salt and fresh air along with sound of the sea's waves is just so relaxing. What you wouldn't give to experience this all the time.

“Come back with me.” Yoongi's hushed voice breaks your trance.

“And be what, your personal servant?" you scoff, "I don’t think so.”

"What about those girls at the party? You could be like them, always having fun, the center of attention."

You bite your lip. "I don't want that." You wonder if Yoongi will believe you when you don't even believe yourself.

"Or I could just give you all my attention." He gets closer to you. "All this could be your life."

"Maybe I like my life-"

Yoongi laughs at you, earning himself a glare.

"Or I could just keep you here." He smirks down at you.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t dare me.”

You stop glaring at him, turning your head away. You watch the lights on the mansion turn on as the night settles in.

“Do you really want to go back to that boring job?” You roll your eyes at his words. “Don’t you want more? To have fun? I’ll give you everything you want."

"I don’t think you could give me everything."

"Just try. You can always go back, I’m sure that manager friend of yours would rehire you."

You sigh, breathing in deep the salty air.

“I would have to put in my two weeks...”

---

Hobi’s scene was fun to write, I haven’t been to parties or dancing in so long I was like what the hell happens again? Now I wanna dance! Reader who said Yoongi will throw her into the sea last chapter you made me laugh so hard I almost considered making him do that lol. I guess there’s still some time to piss him off enough! Do you believe Yoongi? What do you think (or want) to happen next? <3

875 notes · View notes

serendipitous-magic · 3 years

Note

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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softxsuki · 2 years

Note

URGENT REQUEST Hi! I hope you are good I have a request of obey me shall we date, beelzebub x reader were beelzebub protect the reader from some bullys that tried to hurt her and make her feel bad(they are boyfriends in that moment). A really cute and soft story please. Thanks

Beelzebub Protects MC After Some Demon's Attack Her After School

Pairing: Beel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor insults, slight violence, an injury

Genre: Fluff

Post-Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: In which you’re attacked by some demon bullies after school and Beel saves you before things can progress even further.

[A/N: Hi anon <3. I’m doing well! I hope you’re doing all right! This took me a while to write because I kept changing things around and everything, but I hope it came out to your liking! Bullies are the worst >:( but our fluffy boy Beel is the perfect guy to help you out of this kind of situation. Hope you enjoy <3]

You gasp for air after every step you take, looking behind you frequently to see if the demons were still following you.

You were just walking the path to the House of Lamentation after staying for a few hours longer at the Academy to study in the library, when you felt the presence of someone following you. Upon glancing behind you, you saw a few demon students nearing you at a rapid speed, hence why you were full on sprinting now. The group of them had begun running as soon as you did, gaining up on you faster than you thought was possible.

They were some of your ‘fellow’ classmates who had a problem with you, a human, being in their class because you didn’t ‘belong’ in the Devildom. They believed humans were filthy creatures and they despised you for it, but this was the first time they’d ever had a chance to do something about their hatred since you usually were with your boyfriend, Beelzebub.

The demons finally catch up to you and make a circle surrounding you outside the Academy, so you can't escape. Doom fills you in that moment as you regret ever asking Beel to meet you at the House of Lamentation instead of just studying at home so you could walk back with him.

You sling your backpack closer to you, trying to just squeeze your way past the angry demons in fear that perhaps speaking would only upset them even more.

“Where do you think you’re going, human?” one calls out to you, grabbing your bag on your back as he throws you back into the circle to the ground, scraping your hand in the process, “We’re not done with you yet.”

The hungry look on their faces send shivers down your spine; there was no way you were going to let these guys eat you. You weren’t going to die like this.

You heave yourself from the ground and make it seem as if you’re about to surrender to the demons surrounding you.

“Good girl now ju-” he begins but you cut him off by throwing your bag with as much force as you can muster into his chest, sending him stumbling back a bit. This creates an opening in the circle that you quickly run through, trying to make your way to the House of Lamentation.

Heavy footsteps boom behind you as the group of demons gain in on you, the sound of their steps getting louder and louder the closer they get.

The House of Lamentation is now in full view, but no one is in sight, so as the demons finally catch up to you and grab you again, leaving you with no choice but to scream out the only name on your mind.

“Beelzebub!” you yell, hoping your boyfriend could hear you.

The demon students around you laugh at the pitiful look on your face and climb over you ready to attack once more.

“Say goodbye, filthy human,” the demon laughs as his buddies giggle beside him.

Suddenly a blast of wind surrounds you all, kicking up the dust from the streets in the process, making you all close your eyes tightly as the demon above you stammers back. The demons are momentarily stunned and everyone begins to cough along with yourself as you feel familiar gentle, calloused hands take your arm and hoist you up. You're put behind a sturdy back as the dust clears.

“Where’d the pesky human go?” one of the demon students asks as he looks around for you.

Instead of you though, they’re met by the towering form of your boyfriend, Beelzebub. You had never seen him like that before--hands balled up into fists and his back tense as a vain in his neck pulsed with rage. Beel was usually very laid back and loving, but he was beyond upset at what he had witnessed.

The demons all stumble back at the sight of one of their student council members, feeling intimidated by his height and anger-soaked face.

“Oh, Beelzebub, what’s up?” They greet him nervously, knowing that they’re in big trouble.

He takes a threatening step forward, ready to teach the young demons a lesson for messing with you, someone who was one of the most precious people in his life, but he stops to look back at you after feeling your hands grip his arm.

“Can we just go inside please?” you plead, wanting nothing more than to be indoors where you knew it was safe, snuggled under blankets with your own personal teddy bear, Beel.

His face instantly softens once his eyes meet your own fear-filled ones and he sighs, but nods his head in agreement. He turns back to the demons and once again his features are hard.

“Don’t ever let me catch you around MC again, or I’ll personally grill you all up for dinner,” he threatens with a glare.

“Yes sir,” they stammer with a bow before running off back the way you had just run from.

Beel’s shoulders finally loosen as he turns back to you, “Let’s go,” he says, once again reaching for your hand as he leads you into the House of Lamentation without another word.

He guides you through the kitchen and you stop to enter your own room, but he gently tugs on your hand, signaling for you to keep walking with him, taking you all the way to his room.

You’re quiet the whole walk to Beel’s room still shaking from the whole encounter with those demons. You knew as a human in the Devildom, it was dangerous for you, but you were with one of the brothers most of the time, mostly Beel, so the other demon students usually let you be. Glares would be thrown at you, but that was always as far as they would take things. Those demons must have taken advantage of the fact that you were alone at that moment. You shudder at the thought of what could have happened, had Beel not shown up.

Beel tugs on your hand, ushering you into his room and closes the door behind him. You look around ready to greet Belphegor, but you’re surprised to see that it’s only the two of you in his room.

Beel turns to you slowly, lifting you into his arms and places you gently onto his bed. You watch him get onto his knees before you as his violet eyes scan every inch of your body, looking for any injuries.

“I’m all right Beel,” you whisper, finally breaking the silence and reaching out to hold his face so he could look at you.

Once his gaze meets yours, you see the guilt pooling in his eyes, making your heart drop.

“Please don’t feel guilty, really I’m okay. I swear,” you speak again, trying to console him.

“I should have walked home with you, then this would have never happened,” he finally speaks, gritting his teeth as he notices a scrape on your hand from when the demons first pulled you back onto the ground.

You hide your hand from his view, not wanting him to feel any more guilt, but he stops you.

“Seriously baby, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a tiny scrape,” you assure him as he inspects the injury.

Without a word, he leaves the room for a moment before returning with a first aid kit, something the brothers had come together to buy in case of an emergency for you from the Human World, considering you were a lot more fragile than they were.

He silently cleans the scrape, placing some cream over it and wrapping your hand in a bandage. When he tapes the bandage in place, he leans down and leaves a soft kiss onto your wrapped hand, making your heart jump in your chest. It didn’t matter how long you and Beel had been together, his little romantic acts always had your heart leaping like a young fool in love.

“Thank you,” you hum, feeling a lot better than you had before; it was the effect of just being around your boyfriend, but he still looked upset.

“It was my fault, you know. Had I not stayed after school to finish up some work, I would have been able to walk home with you, so it was my own careless mistake, but I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It’s not your fault MC. But you’re right, it won’t happen again. I won’t let it,” he huffs, moving from his knees to sit beside you on his bed, “I’m sorry for not protecting you like I should have.”

“It’s fine, Beel. My big baby,” you coo cuddling up into his arm, “You really saved me back there, so let’s just focus on the fact that I’m fine. I’m here in front of you, safe, happy, and healthy.”

“Mmmm,” he hums in thought, but is suddenly interrupted by his stomach growling.

You laugh softly, looking up at him, “Hungry?”

“Nope,” he lies, looking anywhere but at you as his stomach growls again.

“Well I could sure eat,” you trail off beginning to get up to leave his room, “Guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Wait,” he stops you, standing up behind you from his bed, “Fine, I am hungry, so let’s go eat together.”

You nod, feeling accomplished and smile as you take his hand and lead him to the kitchen. You both cook alongside each other and your happiness grows as the cloud of guilt slowly disappears from around Beel and he seems to be back to his happy, loving self in no time.

The rest of the evening is spent with more snacks, quick, love filled kisses, and long cuddles in bed that even Belphie ends up joining in when he returns to his shared room with Beel and finds out what happened to you.

That night you fall asleep in Beel’s room as he refuses to let you out of his sight in fear that something bad might happen to you again. No one-- no demon, angel, human, or any other creature would be messing with you ever again, so long as he was around.

Your days at the Academy moving forward are full of joy as you get to spend even more time with Beel than usual. He walks you to your classes and even stays with you in the library when you decide to study after school.

Those demon students never bothered you again, in fact, when you did happen to see them in the halls while Beel was beside you, they scampered off quickly before you could even process that they were actually there.

You’re in great hands so enjoy your time in the Devildom with Beel because he’ll make sure you never have to go through something like that ever again.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 11/1/2021

336 notes · View notes

ponderinqs · 3 years

Text

Pushed Away || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, underage drinking, angst, gun usage, SLOW BURN!!!

word count: 3.3k

summary: you’re best friends with jj, but something happens one day, leaving you and the rest of the group confused and worried about him. what happened to him? did you do something to hurt him? or maybe, there’s something rather... emotional going on inside him. something he’s never felt for anyone before in his life.

a/n: here’s me apologizing for not posting this WAYYY sooner. listen,, i got huge writers block for a very long time, and i wasn’t feeling up to anything obx. but now that season 2 has come out, and the fact that i’m at the beach right now (approximately 2 hours away from where they film outer banks), i finally have some motivation to write. soooo yeahhhh. hope you enjoy LMFAOOO. also, read the other parts if u haven’t already!

unedited. please excuse any typos :)

comment if you want tagged !! :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

—————————

It’s been about four days since your friends found out about your past. A week since you spoke to any of them.

When you came home that night after seeing Rafe, you and your mother got into a screaming fit over how she needs to stop trying to change you back to who you used to be.

“You don’t get to tell me who I am! I get to choose that!” You yelled, finger pointed at your mother.

“Excuse me?! I am your mother! I can do whatever I need to do to get you to stop turning into someone you’re not!” Now your mother was screaming at you, probably waking the neighbors.

“Life was better when dad was here! Now you’re just a pathetic excuse as a mother!!” You felt regretful for the words that left your mouth, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

You felt a hand come across your cheek. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, young lady!”

She left the house shortly after you two fought. Your mother has been gone for a few days, which left you holed up in your room, alone, letting the nasty thoughts fog your brain.

You groaned as you got out of your bed, trudging to the bathroom to see how awful you looked. Your hair was disheveled and you looked like absolute shit. “God…” You whispered, letting your fingers graze your cheek. You winced as you felt a slight sting from the movement. It was still sore, and even if there wasn’t much of a mark anymore, you could still see a slight red tint to it.

You finally decided it was time to leave the house. The sun was beginning to set, but you didn’t want to be holed up in your house for another day. After cleaning up and looking somewhat normal, you walked downstairs and went to open the door, but someone was at the door, just about to knock. It was Pope, looking frantic and scared.

“Y/N! Hi!” He pulled you into a quick hug. “You gotta come quick, there’s something wrong with JJ.” He looked at you, scanning your face for any response, when he saw the slightly reddened cheek mark.

“Who did that?” He spoke softly, his finger touching the mark lightly. “My mother.” You sighed. You didn’t feel like worrying everyone, but it was already happening.

“We can talk about this later, okay? But c'mon, we gotta go.” He nudged his head to his car as the both of you made your way over to the car.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?” You spoke after a few minutes of pure silence while Pope drove. “I really don’t know. He went back home last night and something must’ve happened there. You’re like the only one that can get him to calm down.” He smiled at you as he pulled into the Chateau.

You both got out and walked towards the front, where JJ was seen pacing back and forth, Kiara and John B just watching him. They both saw you and stared, not saying a word.

JJ turned around and saw you, the two of you making eye contact. He stopped pacing, and you saw the sun shine through his beautiful hair, but you also noticed more cuts and bruises scattered around his pretty face.

You approached him with caution, looking into his ocean blue eyes the entire time. The two of you didn’t speak any words, but somehow you still calmed JJ down. You grabbed both of his arms as you looked at his face, examining each and every cut and bruise.

Instead of speaking, you hugged him. You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, resting your head on his chest. He was hesitant at first, but he also wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck.

You felt wetness on your skin, making you hug him even tighter. JJ let out a choked sob, still holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping him from completely losing it. You stroked his back, your eyes watering as you listened to him cry into you.

“I can’t do it.” He mumbled into your neck in between sobs. Your heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time this week. And again, you couldn’t do anything to help him, which made you feel helpless. All you could do was stand here and hug your best friend, hoping something would make everything stop hurting.

JJ went limp in your arms as the two of you fell to the ground, JJ covering his face with his hands and he continued to cry. “JJ..” You whispered softly, grabbing him and holding him to your chest. You ran your hand through his hair a few times, trying to get him to calm down.

You looked around at the other Pogue members, signaling that they need to give you two a minute. They understood and nodded, walking into the Chateau and closing the door behind them.

After they were gone, you moved JJ away from you as you pulled his hands away from his face. Your foreheads rested against each other’s, the two of you not daring to break eye contact.

His eyes were red and puffy, tears still streaming down his face. He looked at you with his sad eyes as you felt raindrops beginning to fall on the top of your head.

Soon it was beginning to rain even harder, but the two of you just sat outside, staring at each other and not speaking a word. “I can’t deal with him anymore..” JJ’s voice cracked at the end, letting out another choked sob.

You cupped his face with your hands, kissing his forehead lightly. As you pulled his face away, he noticed the faint cheek mark on your face. “Who.. who did that?” He said quietly, his hand coming up to touch it.

Shivers went down your spine as you felt his touch, along with a slight sting. “Shit.” You hissed, looking down at the ground.

“It was your mother, wasn’t it?” He moved his dripping wet hair out of his face, looking into your eyes.

You nodded slowly right as a bolt of lightning cracked in the air. Thunder boomed through the atmosphere within seconds, and the two of you shared the same look. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You grabbed his hand and helped him stand as the two of you went inside.

The three friends looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing the both of you drenched with your hands still intertwined.

You squeezed his hand, leading him to the extra bedroom. You watched the fragile boy lie down on the bed, turning his back to you.

You turned around and went back out to the rest of your friends. “Um, we’re gonna stay here tonight.” You shuffled your feet.

“Everyone is staying here. The hurricane is coming through right now.” John B sat on one of the couches, finally looking up at you.

You nodded. “He’s gonna be okay, Y/N. Just give him time.” Kiara looked up at you, giving you a slight smile.

You sighed and made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels before you returned to the extra room, seeing JJ in the same position that he was in when you left him.

“Hey, I got some towels so we can dry off.” You got onto the bed and set the towels in front of you. JJ turned around and sat up, grabbing a towel and drying off his hair.

“Do you have extra clothes here?” You asked, and JJ just simply nodded, pointing to the worn down dresser across from the bed. You stood up and walked over, opening it and finding some random clothes for you and JJ.

You tossed JJ a random marina shirt, and a pair of shorts. You found a blue shirt and some sweats, and put them onto the bed. “Well, close your eyes.” You grinned at him, and JJ smirked before covering his eyes with his hand.

You stripped from your wet shirt and tossed it to the corner of the room, making a note to wash it tomorrow. When you looked at JJ, he was peeking out of his hand. “Maybank!!” You giggled as you hurriedly put the shirt on.

“Well, I like the view.” He commented, making the heat rise up to your cheeks. You shook your head and pulled off the drenched pants you had on, rushing to put on the sweatpants.

“Keep em off.” He smirked, his hands now completely away from his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” You finished changing and got into bed, JJ now getting up and changing. “Do I need to close my eyes?” You spoke as if you were a little child.

“That’s up to you.” He smirked again. You decided not to as you watched him slowly peel his wet shirt off of his body.

Without realizing it, you were biting your lip and staring at his defined torso. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” JJ laughed, pulling the dry shirt onto him and then taking off his drenched shorts.

Seeing JJ in his boxers was something you never thought you would witness, but I guess it had to happen sometime, right? He slid on his shorts and got back into bed.

Rain pattered against the window, along with the occasional lightning strikes and thunder. The two of you sat in the darkness for what felt like hours.

“Why did your mother slap you?” JJ spoke, the air thick with something you couldn’t quite explain.

“I called her a pathetic excuse for a mother. So she slapped me. Then she left.” You turned to face JJ, your faces inches away from each other.

“Why didn’t you come to see us? You were gone for a long time, or at least a long to the three of us. We were all scared and confused.” JJ’s hand moved to rest on your cheek, staring at you. Even in total darkness, he could make out your features.

“I didn’t want to. I thought you guys hated me.” You relaxed into his touch, sighing.

“We don’t hate you, Y/N. We are all just a little disappointed that you never told us.” He moved a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

The tension was thick, and it scared you. You’ve never been this vulnerable to each other. JJ never let his guard down, and neither did you. The time you shared outside was something that has never happened before.

“Do you feel better?” You spoke softly, wondering if that was the right thing to say. You didn’t know if you were overstepping any boundaries the two of you had. A lightning bolt lit up the sky, followed by a large boom of thunder as JJ began to talk.

“Yeah.. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He shrugged it off and pulled the thin blanket up to his chest. You gave him a confused look. “JJ, I will always worry about you. That’s what friends do. We always look after each other and make sure the other one is okay.” You scooted yourself closer to him. You felt him shiver as your arm grazed his.

“Just don’t bother worrying about me, okay? I’ll survive.” His finger reached up to his face to touch the multiple cuts and bruises on his face. You heard him wince as the wind picked up outside.

Rain began rapidly pattering against the window, wind shaking the trees and scraping up against the side of the shack.

“JJ look.. I’m sorry for going full ghost on you guys for that long. I should’ve let you all know that I was okay.” You whispered, your hand resting on his shoulder as you laid your side to look at him.

“Nah I get it. I do it too.” JJ shrugged. You stared into his blue eyes, trying to figure out what was going on inside of that beautiful brain of his. He was too focused on the storm outside to realize that you were staring at him. When he finally made eye contact with you, your heart seemed to have skipped a beat.

“What?” He asked, his voice soft and caring. “Nothing.” You mumbled and laid down, getting comfortable with your pillow and the blanket you were currently sharing with JJ.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” JJ said before he turned on his side and tried to fall asleep. You were facing his back, your eyes glued to him. Slowly but surely your eyes closed and you both fell asleep to the sound of the wind and rain outside.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. Looking down, you saw JJ sleeping on you, his hand draped across your stomach with soft snores emitting from his mouth. You smiled and brushed some hair out of his face. You inspected his small cuts and bruises on his face, your index finger grazing each and every one of them.

Soon JJ’s eyes peeled open and he looked up at you. “What are you doing?” He mumbled, his eyes darting to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

“Oh, nothing. Good morning.” You replied, moving your finger away from his face. JJ rolled himself off of you and got out of bed, mumbling a ‘good morning’ before he exited the room and went to find the others. You followed him shortly after, finding no one in the living room.

“Uh.. guys?” JJ questioned, walking around the small boat house as he tried to find his friends. You then spotted John B outside, along with Kiara and Pope. “JJ, they’re outside.” You spoke before walking outside.

You looked around at the damage the hurricane had caused. Branches and twigs were scattered around the yard, along with a lot of random debris covering most of the grass. “Holy shit. She really did a number.” JJ admitted, walking around the yard, stepping on some twigs and picking random stuff up.

“Yeah, no kidding.” John B replied, his hands on his hips as he looked around at all the damage.

Surprisingly, the Chateau didn’t take much damage. You had noticed a bucket sitting on the floor earlier, so there must be a leak. Other than that, there wasn’t much else that needed repairing.

Suddenly, your phone in your pocket started to ring. Grabbing it, you saw the caller ID and it showed that it was your mom. “You have to be kidding me.” You muttered under your breath.

Catching your friends’ attention, they all turned to look at you. “Your mom?” Pope asked, wincing to himself once you nodded.

You answered the call and put your phone up to your ear. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She screamed through the phone.

“What do you mean?” You kept your voice calm and controlled, because you knew if you raised your voice this phone call would be a lot worse than it already is.

“Leaving the house when I’m not there?! Doing god knows what with those low life’s?!” Your mom responded through the phone, her voice getting increasingly louder by the second.

“First of all, you left me!! What the hell was I supposed to do holed up in that house?! And I have told you this time and time again, they are not low lifes!” You retaliated back, making sure that your mom knew that she was in the wrong.

“That’s what you think.” She responded flatly. You just scoffed. “You make me sick, mom. You really do.” You responded, beginning to walk around in circles.

“You need to come back home. I mean it.” Your mom responded sternly. She could do anything, but nothing would tear you away from your real family.

“No. I am not coming back home for a while.” You shook your head, making eye contact with Kie.

“Excuse me? Yes you are. I will send the cops after you if I have to.” She responded, now raising her voice yet again.

“I cannot believe how disrespectful you are right now, mom. No, I am not coming home. You have given me so many reasons to not come home. I am going to stay here where I am more loved. Fuck off.” You yelled and ended the call, not caring about what she had to respond with.

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry you have to deal with her. That’s horrible.” Kiara walked up to you and gave you a hug. You hugged her back, resting your head on her shoulder.

The rest of the Pogues soon surrounded you and hugged you. You smiled as everyone hugged you.

About 30 minutes later, everyone was standing around a large fire that had started to burn all the twigs and branches scattered across the yard, when a Range Rover pulled up next to John B’s van.

You were not surprised when you saw Rafe get out of the car. “Oh hell no..” John B scoffed, walking over to Rafe.

“John B.. John B. Relax. I’m just here for Y/N.” Rafe smirked as he looked over at you, holding his hand out to stop John B.

“Rafe. Get out of here.” You told him, staying near JJ just in case he tries to do something.

“I got you, I got you.” JJ whispered in your ear, placing his hands on your hips as he held you close.

“It was your mom again.” Rafe’s voice got louder as he started to walk closer to you.

“I don’t care about her. Now leave.” Your heartbeat began to rise as he got closer and closer.

“Nah, I don’t think I will do that.” Rafe was now four feet in front of you.

“Hey, buddy, back it up!!” JJ yelled, staring at Rafe to make sure he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“Aw look, you have a bodyguard. How adorable. You know, Y/N, me and you had history. I used to be your bodyguard. Isn’t that right?” Rafe smirked at you.

Before anyone could react, Rafe grabbed you by the arm and pulled you towards him. He held you close to his back, his arm locked across your chest.

“You dickhead!” JJ screamed and ran over to grab you.

Suddenly, Rafe pulled out a gun, causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

He clocked the gun at you, the barrel sitting right on your head. You gasped, tears trickling down your face.

“Tell them, Y/N. Tell them what we were.” Rafe said, smirking as he looked around at the group.

“Put down the gun and I will!!” You yelled, only causing Rafe to push the gun onto your head more. You let out a yell.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you just better tell them now.” Rafe looked down at you, smirking.

“Me and Rafe,” you sniffled, looking down at the ground. “we had.. history. More than what I have told you. We… we dated.” You let out a choked sob.

Rafe slowly moved the gun away from your head. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned, stilling holding you close to his body.

All of the Pogues looked at you in disbelief. You couldn’t even find it in you to look at JJ.

“Cmon, Y/N. Let’s go.” Rafe gave your friends a little wave before he walked over to his car with you and shoved you into the passenger seat.

You were unable to fight him. You gave up, just staring at the floor of the car.

As Rafe started the car up, your friends started to run after you. Rafe quickly backed up out of his spot and peeled away. The last thing you saw out of the passenger side window was JJ, looking scared and very upset.

#jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jjmaybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #outer banks netflix #john b routledge #john b #pope heyward

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askandsmile · 3 years

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i got all y'all's messages and i do think i have more to say, but at the same time i'm just like 🥴️🥴️🥴️

this season isn't great, but this episode was terrible. evan is a terrible writer. he's also a fucked up troll. he likes that he's the b*rchie king, he likes b*rchie, he projects onto them. and truly, the less we try to explain anything about this, the better.

i think i need to wait and watch what comes next (from better writer's hands tbh) until i say anything else regarding canon.

but long post ahead, cause i've been wanting to address something that it's not even coherent, but it's just making me insane lol.

we have 6 episodes ahead of us. 6 weeks. if you guys freak out with every single thing that happens, no one is going to enjoy anything anymore.

i don't have spoilers. all the spoilers i had, from when i was in the clubhouse with evan, i gave to you. the way i read the interviews, i told you. i don't have anything else to add. i never had inside info or anything like that, all my speculations were based on rumors going around *and* the bts we got.

all that i could speculate i already did.

"oh, but what if--"

well. when s4 ended, i said, "if they're gonna make veronica look like archie's second choice, i'm not going to watch s5 live". i carried on watching because they didn't, they made it quite clear that veronica is archie's first choice seven years later.

i'm saying it again, "if they're gonna make varchie go through some b*rchie drama/bullshit again, i'm not going to watch s6 live."

if i do watch it, it'll be the same by the end of it if they get a s7. you have to go episode by episode with this show until the entire journey makes sense.

that's all i can do! that's all i can control. that's all you guys can control: the time and dedication you're willing to give to this show.

(i write a fic that's never-ending and even with roughly 4 readers left, i am pushing through because i want to finish it. this is the time and dedication i'm willing to give to this show, writing this fic to those who still enjoy it and to myself, and to varchie.)

so my suggestion now is, let's watch the episodes. it's 6 weeks. are you going to be anxious for 4-5 out of 6 weeks because of something that maybe, possibly, perhaps will happen? are you going to try to make me and other people anxious because you are? i'm choosing, at this point, to trust my ship and the story they've been telling about them.

i know it's harder for bugheads at the moment (reminder that i, myself, am not one although i did love them back in s1 and do support their relationship in the core four context) because they've been dealing with another love interest, on top of cole and lili's breakup, on top of not getting a lot of content, or bts, etc, etc.

but as a varchie shipper...guys, i've been there!

i have seen reggie tell veronica they could be endgame. i have seen archie dance a duet with josie saying he'd fight for her. i have seen archie writing a song to someone else. i have seen veronica getting married to another guy, and then possibly sleep with him after sort of maybe getting back together with archie. trust me, no one in this fandom knows better what you guys are going through right now.

so yes, maybe jabitha will date, or maybe they won't. maybe bh will get back together this season, maybe they won't. it doesn't mean the end of bughead, not at all. look at all the shit other ships have been through (even b*rchies, really). you guys are fine.

is the show good right now? no, it's not. i thought it wasn't so bad until 5x08 (even with the b*rchie thing) but then it just went downhill, and 5x13 was the worst episode ever. no wonder it had 0.7 ratings. but like, does that mean it will stay so bad? i don't know. i haven't watched 5x14, 5x15, 5x16, etc. i don't know what's coming. it might be great! it might suck.

and you guys don't get it, half the varchie fandom left in s3 because there was no sight of varchie anywhere, and then we were pleasantly surprised with the best build up ever in s3C. but you know what? sometimes i wish varchie hadn't gotten back together then! so we would see more of that buildup, some actual reaction from archie seeing veronica choose reggie instead of him, etc. it would've opened a sea of possibilities for a good story.

and whether you like it or not, this is giving more space for other characters to be around. they're not developing them. they're not writing them well. but you can't deny that we have seen more of toni, reggie, fangs, even kevin and cheryl, than ever since...ever.

and it's okay if you just watch for your ship. but the show, and the writers, are not worried about you shdhshd. i think there has been a misconception about that. the ships exist within the show, and this season feels so weird because the core four is apart and bh is apart, but the show is ultimately about the characters and their good/bad decisions.

so, thinking about the characters, ask yourself: is archie in conditions to be with veronica right now? is betty in conditions to be with jughead right now? jug and archie are in their way to healing, it looks like, but betty still isn't. is veronica in conditions to be committed again atm? i don't know. will this change in a couple of episodes? maybe!

and it's same for other characters. choni are going through the exact same thing bh is, they just don't have the impending doom that is b*rchie hovering above, but i guess no one doubts choni.

but imagine if they get back to choni and just give them a few throw away lines and boom, it's all magically fixed. wouldn't they feel betrayed? don't you enjoy the aspect that bh is taking time for this reunion after they were completely shattered? i know i would've written varchie differently if i could.

anyway. it's useless to think "oh, zalben said this, evan said that, ras said this" when we can't control what they say, or how they think. we can only interpret it (90% of the time i've been right about them but whatever) and we can only watch the show in front of us and absorb something from that.

(which is hard when the episode sucks, but it's what we can do).

all this freaking out is making me stop enjoying the show, and the fandom. it's not giving anyone any joy. you guys have to calm down and i'm not being dismissive of how much a tv show can bring anxiety, but the only thing you can do is trust the process.

bughead has been a solid thing for 4 seasons. it's their first major problem. varchie has been not that solid but very, very present for 4 seasons. b*rchie has been whatever it has been for 4 seasons. jabitha is a new ship, but it's around now... but hasn't even really happened yet. like, all these characters have their stories to tell among them, and if we don't enjoy the road they take, we can only try to detach ourselves.

okay, i guess, that's it. i'm not sure if i make any sense, but i'm so exhausted of people not trusting what's being shown to them and only thinking about zalben, bdaily takes, evan, ras, yadayada, who the rvd writers liked on twitter, like... c'mon.

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fxf smut, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!bee, shibari/bondage, sex swing, fingering, safewording situation, aftercare, exhibition, voyeurism

A/N: chapters may not come every week, but i am continuing to post them now xx i appreciate your patience

DAY TWENTY-TWO

Normally, getting a text at ass o’clock in the morning would annoy Hoseok. Normally, he’d deny the offer to get out of the warmth of his bed and go down and have ‘a chat’ with someone at ass o’clock in the morning -

But then again, his bed is a little too warm with an extra body in it. Perhaps going downstairs is the better option. He rolls over gingerly, glaring at the man in bed beside him, separated by a wall of spare pillows. His blue hair doesn’t seem as harsh in the dim pre-dawn light, and his lips are plumper than ever, slightly pouted in his sleep. He looks peaceful, no lines on his face even though he’d gone to bed wearing makeup. One tiny hand rests propped underneath his face, making his cheek bulge, and the other clutches intermittently at the duvet, like he’s caught up in a dream. Park Jimin looks so content and angelic in his sleep. Hoseok narrows his eyes. Little shit.

It’s easy enough to get dressed and ready without disturbing the sleeping demon. Well - truthfully, he’s just shrugged on a hoodie over his sleep shirt and sweatpants to make them look less like pyjamas, but still.

By the time he gets downstairs, grimacing at the sharp lights of the kitchen, Namjoon is practically chewing a hole through the lid of a plastic bottle, gnawing at it with eyes rounded with worry.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Hoseok rushes forward, gently tugging the half-empty bottle out from between the younger man’s teeth, giving him a soft but reproachful look. “What’s going on, buddy?”

Namjoon startles with the sudden motion, eyes blinking slowly in a way that speaks to a lack of sleep the night before. “Oh good, you came,” he mutters absentmindedly, “I’m kinda freaking out.”

Hoseok’s brow pinches with concern. “I did notice that. You seemed pretty carefree yesterday; what’s changed?”

The academic bites his lip. “Sunmi was talking to me. Did you know basically everyone else is in a relationship?”

Whatever Hoseok was anticipating, it certainly wasn’t that. “Huh?”

Namjoon nods, frantic. “Y/n got together with Jimin and Tae, but now they’re kind of not? - I don’t know, Sunmi wasn’t that bothered about the details - and then Yoongi and Jin had their thing, obviously, but now Jungkook has a thing with Yoongi, and Tae and Jungkook have been fooling around too, and it’s like we’re the only ones left out. I didn’t even realise it, but we’re the leftovers, Hobi-hyung.”

Even as that comment sends a dagger right through him, Hoseok keeps his face neutral. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Namjoon. Nobody’s trying to leave us out.”

“I know that,” Namjoon replies quickly, an earnest nod, “it’s just that- Well, I want that, Hobi-hyung. I want to sneak around, I want to hold hands, I want to feel what it’s like. It’s not that I’m annoyed at the others, it’s just… it’s highlighted yet another area that I’m a total virgin in. I’m sick of always feeling behind on these things. I’m sick of it never being me.”

Hoseok swallows, reaching around to pat Namjoon on the back in what he hopes his a comforting gesture. This wasn’t as straightforward as aftercare; Namjoon was seriously hurting. “Listen, Joon, if you want to get into a relationship of any sort with them, you need to talk to them directly-”

“But I don’t,” the academic cuts off, looking more vulnerable than ever. In plaid pyjamas and round glasses with lenses thicker than the frames, hair still mussed up from restlessness, he looks totally lost. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. It’s like… I wouldn’t write an essay and hand it in straight away, you know? I’d write an outline, and then a draft, and I’d use the draft to make edits and write a second draft, and eventually I’d write the final product and submit it. Do you get it?”

Hoseok presses his lips together. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Namjoon bites down hard on his lip, making the flesh go white, and bloom red when he lets go to speak. “Hobi-hyung,” he begins slowly, “are you interested in any of the people here romantically? Are you wanting to get into a relationship like that?”

Fear shoots through Hoseok instinctively, but it’s soothed by the reassurance, it’s Namjoon. He can be honest with Namjoon. “No,” he admits, waiting for his face to fall.

Instead, the opposite happens. Namjoon’s brows smoothen with visible relief. “I want you to be my first draft, hyung.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “Now would be a great time for you to explain the metaphor, Joonie.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath and slips off his glasses, blinking owlishly like being a little blind is preferable before he speaks. “I want to pretend to date you, just for a bit. Just to see what it’s like. It can be a trial run, we’ll stop whenever we want. But you’re the only one in this house I trust like that.” He pauses, fingers twitching where they rest clasped in his lap. “Feel free to say no, though.”

Perhaps Hoseok’s mind is a little slow from waking up, but he barely comprehends the implications of what Namjoon is telling him. “You felt left out when the others were trying to have secret relationships or sneak around the rest of us… so you want to… pretend to do that?”

“Well- no, we wouldn’t have to hide it,” Namjoon says slowly, fingers reaching for the water bottle. Hoseok lets him have it, but watches out to make sure he doesn’t begin gnawing on the lid again. “I just think it would be nice to be the one doing couple stuff for once, don’t you think?”

Upon hearing these words, Hoseok begins to feel his very bones shake. It’s the uncontrollable trembling that seems to pass over him every time he gets close to breaking the seal - close to coming out. As always, he has a choice. It only takes one more look at the openness on Namjoon’s face to decide. “Joonie, I’m aromantic.”

Namjoon sucks in a silent breath of surprise. “Huh? Really?”

Now that it’s out there, the silence feels so much more deafening. “Yeah.” He doesn’t know what to say. Should he explain himself, apologise, give excuses-?

“That doesn’t change my opinion of you, you know that, right?”

Hoseok blinks. Namjoon seems more awake now, more alert and calm. “I- What do you mean?”

“You’re my best friend on this show,” Namjoon admits shyly, “you’ve taught me a lot, and I feel so safe with you. I didn’t come to you because I thought you’d want to actually date, so please don’t think I’m going to feel disappointed. It’s really special that you felt comfortable enough to- oof!”

Before Namjoon finishes, Hoseok is barrelling him over in a tight hug. Namjoon’s arms bracket around him, and the dom could just about purr with the warm fuzzy happiness that bubbles in his chest. “Oh, Joonie! You’re my best friend here too!”

Namjoon hugs him tighter now. “I’m so glad, hyung,” he murmurs softly.

Not wanting to leave this embrace, Hoseok lets his eyes slip closed and rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “I think fake-dating sounds kinda fun, by the way. We can take the b out of bromance. I wanna see how the others react.”

Just as the breathy sound of Namjoon’s gleeful laughter light his ears, a darker, more bemused chuckle drowns it out.

“Fake dating, huh?” a voice drawls, causing the two of them to jump apart like they’d been stung. “As if things couldn’t get any cheesier around here.”

Namjoon rubs his eyes, looking even more disheveled than when Hoseok first saw him. “Yoongi?”

Hoseok swallows as the raven-haired, cat-eyed beauty standing across from them scowls. “Not quite, buddy.”

The academic fumbles for his glasses and slips them on, gasping as Min Yoonji comes into perfect focus. “Oh! Uh, good morning! You can ignore what you just saw and heard.”

“Absolutely not,” she counters easily, sitting gracefully on a stool at the breakfast bar. Far more awake and presentable than the two of them, she looks sleek and fashionable in a pale silver blouse, black sash tied around the collar, and sleek black pants. Her eyes rake over the two of them, mouth turned down in a frown. “No one would believe it,” she says finally.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok questions, feeling distinctly like a petri dish being studied by a disdainful scientist. He spares a glance at Namjoon, who shifts uncomfortably and fiddles with his pyjama sleeves.

Yoonji just shrugs like it’s obvious. “If you told them now that you’re dating, they’d assume it was a joke. You need to set it up, build a narrative,” she explains. “How about this? I’ll spread a rumour that I saw the two of you making out down here, then you lay down some clues like sneaking off together or fucking each other with your eyes over the dinner table, and boom, everyone will think you’re boning. Bonus points if you can get someone else in on it.”

The two stay silent for a few seconds before they realise Yoonji is waiting for an answer. “Uh,” Hoseok states eloquently.

“Thank you?” Namjoon questions.

Yoonji huffs, eyes rolling skywards. “You two are hopeless. I’ll do what I can, but it’s going to cost you.”

“Are we- what- is this a deal? Are you negotiating with us?” Namjoon stammers, taking his glasses off to clean the lenses with the edge of his shirt even though they were fine before.

“There is no negotiation,” she explains. “I’ll keep your secret and help you. In return, you need to send me a text the second Yoongi tries to put the moves on anyone so I can get the fuck out of the house. I’m not asking for much, but it is very important to me.”

The absurdity of the situation dawns upon Hoseok suddenly, and an unstoppable grin stretches across his face. “It was never about helping us, was it? You just wanna make sure you don’t accidentally walk in on your brother getting railed.”

Yoonji grimaces sharply, shaking her head like she’s trying to dispel the thought. “If you aren’t interested in the deal, I’ll find someone else to blackmail, simple as that.”

“We can do it!” Namjoon volunteers, straightening his back.

Hoseok quickly nods in agreement, watching Yoonji’s shoulders dip in relief. “Sounds fair,” he summarises, “but we’ll need your phone number to do that.”

Yoonji does an almost perfect job of masking her pleased smile with a pointed glare. “Give me your phones, then.”

By the time everyone is seated (bar Yoonji, who has apparently taken over her brother’s room to watch Netflix while the rest of you talk ‘business’) and Sejin walks in, you’ve made your decision.

Unlike the first week, the individual doesn’t know in advance, and it’s this guilt that makes you stubbornly avoid eye contact with them all.

Taehyung had also been given the pass to not join the meeting, but he’d shown up anyway for morale. Or, rather, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and taking a nap on your shoulder. You couldn’t deny it was comforting to feel his body heat, albeit unconscious.

Yoongi sits on the other side of Taehyung, luckily not pressuring you into conversation, and the two other couches are making conversation amongst themselves when Sejin cuts them short to start the meeting.

“Thank you for being punctual, everyone!” he begins cheerily. Perching on the edge of the coffee table, he rubs his palms together. “It’s time again for the elimination vote. Before I ask Y/n to make her decision, the current six Gentlemen have the chance to defend their position in the game. Starting from the left with you; Namjoon.”

Fuck. Now is the point where you can no longer avoid eye contact with everyone. Leaning into Taehyung’s embrace a little more - the sleeping boy grumbling as you shift beneath him - you look up tentatively towards Namjoon.

He looks a little nervous, but no more than he usually gets in these meetings anyway. Hoseok’s hand rests on the back of the couch behind the academic, who seems perfectly comfortable in the crook of Hoseok’s arm. “Y/n,” he begins, clearing his throat with a brief smile, “I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you so much, this past week especially. I know I still have some catching up to do when it comes to prowess in the bedroom, but I feel myself improving and once again I’m asking you to be patient with me, and keep me in the game a little longer so that I can do better next week, and the week after that.” He does a cute little nod when he’s finished, cheeks slightly pink.

Hoseok sighs out dramatically when his turn is signified, not shifting from his position. “I’m not above bribery, Y/n. If you keep me in this competition, I’ll take you to my workplace tonight and we can have a good time. If you vote me out, our little excursion will be to the worst Italian restaurant in Gangnam and order a margarita pizza with no cheese or sauce, extra anchovies and pineapple. And we won’t leave until you eat at least your half of the pizza.” He narrows his eyes at you, playful even in the face of elimination. “Are you willing to take that risk?”

You let out a genuine chuckle, shoulders jerking with the force of it. Roused from sleep by your movements, Tae pouts and rubs at his eyes. Even with his hair sticking up at odd angles, he looks so gorgeous that it takes your breath away. As he sits up and adjusts his position, leaning with his back against your side and tugging your arm over him like it’s a blanket, you can’t help but feel a pang of regret for voting him out so soon when you like him so much.

You bite down hard on your tongue, wincing at the pain. Would you come to regret the decision you’re making this morning, too?

Jin is next, and your heart thumps a little faster when you meet his gentle gaze. “I don’t have a lot to say,” he admits slowly, “at least, nothing that I haven’t already said to you. Spending time with you in any context is the highlight of my week, and I sorely hope that I don’t lose you just yet.”

That’s it for the couch to the left of you. Relieved nobody is expecting you to actually respond to these, you give Jin a tight smile and turn to Yoongi, staring at him over Taehyung’s bedhead.

Yoongi shrugs. “Y/n, I think you and I make a really good team. We’re compatible sexually, we get along well outside of that, and I know that you see it too. I’m pretty confident that I’m not the one going home this week.” You let out a light scoff at his faux air of certainty.

Finally, Jimin and Jungkook remain on the last couch. Jungkook is closer to you, so he’s next in line. The bright red streaks of his hair have faded a little, more rosy than before. It makes him look even softer as he sits cross-legged on the couch, the long sleeves of his baggy black shirt tangled up in his lap. He looks genuinely worried, unable to front a smile to you. “Um, I would-” He breaks off suddenly as his nose twitches. “I’d be really sad if you eliminated me,” he confesses in a small voice. “I don’t wanna guilt trip, but, um, I really wanna stay in.”

Your heart aches at the way he drops his chin and stares at the carpet blankly. Beside him, Jimin looks equally pained, and his voice is softer than usual when he speaks up.

“In terms of defending my place in the game,” Jimin says slowly, “I can promise that I’ll keep things different and exciting every week for you and that things will be a lot more fun if you keep me in.” He eyes crinkle fondly. “But I trust your decision either way.”

You suck in an unsteady breath. With everyone’s petitions complete, there’s nothing standing between you and the decision you have to make. Though his words cut right to you, the person you’d chosen earlier hasn’t changed.

Sejin clears his throat after giving you a moment to think. “Who are you choosing to eliminate this week, Y/n? As per the current rules, they’ll be removed from the competition, but allowed to remain in the house on the grounds that they do not initiate any sexual contact with you.”

Making like Jungkook, you lower your gaze to the floor. “First of all,” you start, hating the way your voice sounds so small, “you’re all amazing. Just like last week, there’s no- there’s no easy choice. No matter who I choose it’s going to suck for us both, and I’m sorry about that.”

You pause for a moment, trying to think of the right way to phrase your thoughts. “I’m choosing this person because I think that while the sex has been, um, really good-” it’s futile to fight the blush on your cheeks but you duck your head lower anyway, “-it’s maybe not as exciting week to week as some of the other guys.” The eyes on you feel like redhot pressure points, and you try and loosen the tightness in your chest. “And if I’m totally honest, I think- I really like this person, but I think I’d feel a little more comfortable being able to explore that without the pressures of the competition.”

It’s the least you can do to lift your gaze up and to the left, giving him the dignity of a proper sendoff. “I’m sorry, Jin, it’s you this week.”

Perhaps the worst part of this morning is that Jin seems genuinely caught off-guard.

Or perhaps the worst part is the way his face falls into something grave and icy, standing up so abruptly that Hoseok recoils beside him.

Your heart sinks, your voice drowned out by Sejin’s even as you call out the same name.

“Jin,” Sejin commands, “you have to come back to- Jin!”

Though he was already halfway to the front door, Jin stiffly turns around and waits in the doorway. His eyes actively avoid you, glaring at the wall. Sejin excuses himself and takes him aside to give him the instructions on how to proceed.

It feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you, pooling in your stomach, and you fight the tears that prick your eyes as Tae wriggles around beside you, pulling you into a hug.

You feel fingers card through your hair, even as his two hands stroke your back and hold you close. Glancing up, you’re met with the sight of Yoongi’s face, pained with sympathy, as he gently pats your cheek and continues to brush your hair.

“He hates me,” you murmur miserably.

Yoongi doesn’t contradict you, just letting out a sad sigh. “He’s upset,” he admits, “but he’s a strong guy. He’ll move past it.”

You protest weakly as Taehyung coos softly and pulls you closer, practically tugging you onto his lap so your legs hang over one side and your torso is snug in his embrace. The guilt is far worse this week than it was last time. It constricts your lungs, your veins, makes you feel weak with dread. “He likes me. He likes me and I did that to him.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we all like you,” Yoongi says, his hand falling to cup yours, swirling lazy circles on the skin of your palm.

“Not like that,” you counter, “not like Jin does.”

For a moment it seems like Yoongi is going to disagree with that, but he drops it, squeezing your hand and standing up. “I’m going to make us something to eat. Maybe a hot stew would cheer everyone up a little bit.”

The chances are low, you think, but you would never turn down his food. “Sejin still hasn’t assigned the new prompts and told us about the new week, though,” you point out, glancing over to the two men still in the doorway. Even seeing Jin for a second jolts you like an electric shock, so you turn and bundle your face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, feeling the soft fibres of his box-knit cardigan against your chin.

“Then Sejin can make himself useful and chop some vegetables while he does it,” Yoongi counters with a pompous sniff as he leaves, and in spite of your own misery, a chuckle overcomes you at the thought of it.

“There’s that smile,” Taehyung croons, a finger tipping your chin up. His eyes are two brown pools of comfort that you can’t help but get lost in. “Jin will survive. I did!”

You straighten up once you hear the sound of shoes approaching again, smile dropping. But this time Sejin stands alone.

“Yoongi, out of the kitchen, please,” the producer sighs.

With one foot hovering over the border where carpet meets tile, Yoongi freezes. “I’ll make you an extra serving,” he bargains, “you can even pick the meat.”

“Out of the kitchen,” Sejin repeats in a stern voice, “can we have at least some decorum during the meeting?”

“But I’m hungry,” he defends. Sejin doesn’t reply, simply flattening his gaze. As everyone waits, Yoongi slinks back like a sulking cat, perching on the edge of the couch beside you and Taehyung with his arms crossed in defiance. “Do I get to pick out the prompts again?”

“No. Let’s get started, please.” Taking a breath so deep it lifts his shoulders, Sejin calms himself and clears his throat, standing in front of the seven of you. “The theme of this week is Limited Edition. I’ve got five prompts here; come up in any order.”

Taehyung slides you off his lap so smoothly that you barely notice it’s happened before he’s standing up with a stretch, waltzing towards Sejin’s outstretched hand.

Sejin realises at the last minute and tugs his hand back the second Taehyung’s fingers brush one of the slips of paper. “Taehyung, you know you can’t take a prompt. Sit down.”

Without pause, Taehyung spins on his foot, strolling right back to your couch as if nothing was amiss. “Worth a shot,” he mutters when he sits back down beside you. You know this is just his attempt at cheering you up, but that doesn’t make it work any less. Tucking your arm around his, you lean into him and watch as the first actual contestant takes his prompt.

It’s Yoongi up first, clearly wanting to expedite the process as much as possible, but when he snatches the topmost fold of paper, the text written inside gives him pause. His brows furrow, then lift in realisation, before he collapses back beside you, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch thoughtfully.

Jimin is next, selecting the next one in the splayed-out pile. His head cocks to the side, turning to Yoongi with a curious look. “Oh,” he comments mildly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, and Hoseok, who’d previously been stunned into silence with Jin’s sudden mood change, springs up with a huff.

“What is this oohing and aahing all about,” he grumbles, quickly picking a prompt and holding it close to his chest like he’s worried someone will peek. The second he looks at his, however, his face falls. He tries to recover with a light laugh, but you don’t miss the way he eyes the remaining slips in Sejin’s hand like he longs to trade his in.

He sits down though, patting Namjoon’s thigh to get him to go up. Oddly enough, Namjoon also looks stricken when he reads his prompt, showing it to Hoseok with a nervous gnawing of his lip.

Jungkook is the last one left, and at this point you’re uncontrollably curious but also wary about what these prompts could contain. Interestingly, though, Jungkook doesn’t seem disappointed or worried, but instead scrunches his nose and giggles at the prompt, tucking it into his pocket before joining Jimin and poking his side until the older man shows him his prompt, snickering even more at the sight of it.

“Alright,” Sejin starts, cutting off your train of thought, “now that we’ve finished that, the last point of discussion is the Bangasm Bomb. This week, the special challenge is called Viewer’s Choice. Each day, there will be a random poll taken on the official Bangasm twitter. It will correspond to each prompt, and the next morning, one of you will get a text. That means you have to complete your prompt that day, using the winning vote of the poll. If you fail to include this aspect, you’ll fail overall even if you successfully completed the actual prompt. Make sense?”

Jungkook stares blankly. “Could we have an example?”

Sejin shrugs. “The first poll was posted at 10am this morning. The four options are: standing, lying down, sitting and kneeling. Whichever position wins the poll must be included in the scene tomorrow. If, tomorrow morning, you get a text from me with one of these options, that means you need to complete your prompt that day using the winning option of the poll.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says slowly, mulling it over, “yeah, I get it now. So we don’t get to choose when we go?”

“Not this week, no,” Sejin explains, and then clears his throat. “Well, then. That’s all from me! I need to go make sure Seokjin is behaving.”

The mention of the recently-eliminated member sobers everyone up. Yoongi returns to the kitchen with less vigor than before, Hoseok joins him to make himself a drink, Jungkook comes over to the couch with you and Taehyung and wedges himself between the two of you, so sullen he doesn’t even speak.

In the end, the seven of you decide to eat lunch in front of the television, putting on a mindless sitcom that nobody really focuses on. Yoonji comes down once Yoongi texts her for lunch, and she sits on the floor with her bowl propped up on the coffee table.

Time passes, and Jin doesn’t return inside.

For a while, there’s an unspoken assumption that he’s still in the confessional shed with Sejin doing his exit interview, but once Jimin pokes his head out the front door and sees the producer working away in the production van, that idea is shattered.

“He’s okay, right?” Taehyung asks abruptly as a laugh track echoes hollowly around the room.

No one needs to ask who he is. Yoongi shrugs. “He’s an adult,” he offers, but the glint of concern is as much alight in his eyes as anyone else’s.

The thought only sustains peace amongst you for so long. Jungkook is glum, Hoseok looks anxious, Namjoon grows restless and begins chewing the end of one of his chopsticks. Even Yoonji has her brows furrowed, jaw tense.

Eventually, your worry overcomes you, and you grab the remote and mute the TV, pitching the room into silence. “I’m going to find him,” you announce.

“Y/n…” Yoongi says reluctantly, but your mind is made.

Not bothering with shoes, you unlock the front door again and slip outside, immediately turning the perimeter to go look for the missing gentleman.

Half-expecting him to be sulking in the confessional booth still, a strike of alarm thuds in your chest to find it empty. You inspect the poolside, the patio and outdoor dining area, but Seokjin’s nowhere to be found.

It’s just as you’re about to give up and return inside that you spot him.

Barely more than a smudge in the distance, you see his tall figure sitting, hunched up, on the very outskirts of the gravel path. He picks up pieces of rock, throws them half-heartedly, and he’s so far away that you can’t even hear them clatter. You recoil at the lonely sight, fighting the urge to run to him.

When you return inside, all eyes are on you. “He’s right on the edge of the property,” you explain miserably, “as far away from me as he can get.”

“Oh, Y/n,” Jimin says softly, eyes brimming with sympathy. From the silence around the room, there’s not much else to say.

You bite your lip. “He probably doesn’t want to talk to me, but can someone please go get him before it gets dark? I’m going to my room for a bit.”

Nobody protests, and you heave yourself up the stairs. By the time you flop onto the bed in your room, door locked behind you, you feel heavier than solid stone.

You’re too distressed to sleep, but guilt pulls at your limbs and leaves you unable to get out of bed for the rest of the day.

By the time you’re called down to go on your excursion with Hoseok, part of you wants to cancel and wallow in your self-pity a little longer. But Hoseok had clearly been looking forward to it so much, and you can’t deny the allure of escaping the Villa, even if only for a few hours.

Hoseok beams at you warmly as he greets you at the car idling outside. With his hair fluffy over his brow but his clothes sleek black, he’s like an enticing halfway point between Hoseok and Master. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting his clear skin in a rich orange glow. “Ready?”

You return his smile, albeit with a little less vigor. “Let’s get out of here.” When the two of you get inside the car and it pulls down the driveway, there’s no lone figure throwing stones on the perimeter of the property. Your heart tugs in a way you can’t quite articulate.

Though you try not to, it’s impossible not to mentally take stock and compare this experience to your previous nights out. Far more than Jimin and Yoongi, Hoseok keeps you talking. Whether it’s him trying to keep you distracted, or just his natural brand of social vibrance, there isn’t a quiet moment.

It isn’t until the car has wound its way deep into the city that Hoseok gently clears his throat, cutting off his own spiel about his favourite brand of bucket hats. “It seems we’ve reached a crossroads,” he announces meaningfully.

You frown as you glance between the seats and out the front window. “That’s a roundabout, Hoseok.”

His eyes shift. “Metaphorically.”

“And what might this metaphorical crossroads entail?” you ask teasingly, a smile curling your lips.

Hoseok stays uncharacteristically sober, leaning towards you as the car creeps forward in the blocked-up after-work traffic. “Our location, princess,” he says softly.

“I thought we were going to your work?” you respond in confusion.

“At the moment we are,” Hoseok replies. “But there’s a cinema just down the road, several great food places, even this fancy smoothie shop that lets you pick your own ingredients.”

“Okay…” The rhythmic click of the turning light echoes through the backseat, making you feel entranced as you watch Hoseok’s eyes warm, focused on you. “Do you not want to go to your work?”

“This is about you now,” he corrects in a kind but firm voice. “Do you want to go to the Red Room and play?”

“Yes,” you say instinctively, but the dom just shakes his head.

“No,” he states unflinchingly, “I need you to think about it longer than that. Do you feel emotionally, mentally, and physically in a position to do a scene tonight?”

You suck in a breath slowly, taking the time to run over them one by one. Physically was the easiest one. Your sex drive was quickly reconfiguring the longer you spent on the show, and even just a day without any action at all was making you feel a little restless and unsatisfied. Emotionally and mentally gave you pause.

How can you untangle those two when your mind and your heart feel knotted together inside you? Whenever one lights up, the other just reflects it. The moment you think of Jin, guilt overcomes you, but that just sparks your desire to flood yourself with distractions and escapism. But then the thought of being out here, enjoying yourself while he’s still stuck in the Villa, probably seething in hurt or rage or betrayal… The guilt just flares even colder in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you admit after a moment of silence. Hoseok hums once, inviting you to speak further. “I really want to. But I don’t know if I should. I just want to forget about everything, but maybe that’s a bad reason.” You blow out a deep breath, cheeks puffing up. “I don’t know; you’re the BDSM expert. Is it okay if I do it to just distract myself?”

Hoseok stays silent for a moment, eyes roaming over you like he’s searching for something. “That depends,” he answers finally. “If it’s a recurring problem in your life, and you use BDSM as a coping mechanism, then that can be unhealthy. Just like drinks or drugs. But at the same time, it’s very common that BDSM is a way of emotional or mental release. Office workers who feel like they’re working the same 9 to 5 every day with no power might want to feel like they have control and excitement in one area of their lives. Maybe CEOs or lawyers or doctors or parents might want to go to a BDSM club and submit so they finally can release the burden of expectation. To have someone else take care of them and make the decisions for a few hours.”

The dom sighs out slowly, eyes softening in empathy. “Y/n, you know that I can’t tell you whether it’s okay or not. I can’t consent on your behalf. You need to decide for yourself if you’re using this as a release, or as a dependent coping mechanism. Do you understand?”

You nod silently, not trusting your voice for a moment. Though he can’t decide for you, his explanation brings a clarity that strikes deeper than you originally intended. “I want to feel taken care of,” you offer up, voice thin like blown glass as your eyes prickle. “I just want to feel good for tonight, Hobi.”

Hoseok nods with a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Then I have another question, princess,” he starts. “You said you were wanting to forget about everything. Would you enjoy your time more if you played with someone else?”

You’re tugged out of your brief lapse of emotional vulnerability by the statement, cocking your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok’s lip twitches as his eyes brighten a little. “Mistress Bee has an opening that she kept just for you,” he reveals in a honeyed drawl, “if you want to use it. Her and I spoke about it earlier. If you’re anything like me, the constant presence of cameras and the whole competition can start to weigh pretty heavily. I think it might be good for you to let yourself be separate from it entirely for a while. Have some fun for fun’s sake. What do you think?”

The idea is something you’d never considered, yet you can’t deny there’s something incredibly appealing about cutting your ties - even just for an evening - and not having to worry about anything to do with the show. But still, you hesitate. “Where would you be?”

Hoseok shrugs easily. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. I could sit near the two of you, or just hang around in the main den so I’m out of sight but still not far. And if you really want some distance, I might just go next door and make myself a custom smoothie. Either way, I’m happy.”

You startle when the car suddenly halts, a jerky job of parking down a side street. You’re here. A strange feeling of urgency overtakes you, like he’ll leave any second. You reach out and clutch at his shirt, feeling the press of buttons against your palm. “I want you to stay,” you say in a rush, knuckles going white.

“I’m here,” Hoseok soothes with warm eyes, unhooking your fingers from his shirt one at a time, before squeezing your hand and resting it back in your lap. “I’ll stay, princess.”

Outside, the air is still warm with the remnants of the set sun, even as lamp posts cast white pools of light onto the pavement. On one side of the car - as it reverses painfully slowly back onto the main street - you can spot the smoothie shop Hoseok was talking about, but on the far side is a Daiso store, and on your side, just in front of you, is the entrance to a cinema complex.

You pause, frowning in confusion, but before you can turn to ask Hoseok, his hand is already on the small of your back, leading you towards the cinema.

“We’re downstairs,” the dom explains, pointing out a sign you’d missed that displays the now-familiar logo of two Rs back to back, beside the B that indicates it’s located in the basement. As he leads you past the small foyer of the cinema and down a set of modest hardwood stairs, his voice lowers. “Although all the walls and ceilings are soundproof, having a bass-boosted movie blasting above you certainly helps drown out the rest of the noise. Gives us a bit more privacy.”

“Clever,” you comment absentmindedly, but your attention has already been caught by the sight that greets you below.

The moment you round the final corner of the narrow stairs, it’s like an entirely different world. Without any natural light, the entryway you step onto is lit mostly with wall sconces, though there’s strip lighting along the very edges of the hallway that glow an ominous red.

In front of you is a roughly oval room. In the centre, a woman with a shaved head and long acrylic nails taps away at a monitor, glancing back and forth from the screen to a large black book just beside it. She glances up when you step down, smirking at Hoseok with clear recognition.

Flanking the outskirts of the room are two bulky bodyguards, and you don’t even notice them until they relax and give him a nod. They seem to protect not only the receptionist but three sets of doors as well.

On the left is a locked door marked with letters engraved onto the wood itself reading STAFF. On the far right, the almost identical door there has no lock, and displays instead CHANGING ROOMS. In the middle, directly behind the desk, are two massive doors with iron handles curved in the shape of flicking devil’s tails, complete with the pointed tips. Instead of any words, each door just has one of the Rs of the logo. Then again, it doesn’t really surprise you that there wasn’t any explicit title or description visible. This was a place that you only went to if you knew where you were going.

“I thought you were taking time off, Sir?” the woman asks in a teasing lilt. She’s almost intimidatingly gorgeous, and you fight the urge to shift closer to Hoseok’s side. Her eyes shift to you nonetheless and her grin widens. “Yet here you are, bearing a gift.”

“Not for sharing, I’m afraid,” Hoseok deflects, and it takes you off-guard to hear the audible difference in his voice compared to what you’re used to. He’s not fully in Master mode, but the bubbly ball of energy has been replaced by the suave charisma of someone who knows he commands the attention of any room. Just as you glance up at him, he looks down with crinkled eyes and lifts the hand on your back up into your hair, not quite tugging, but keeping it there for a moment before he lets his fingers slip through your locks again. He holds your eyes a second longer before turning back to the receptionist. “Red cuffs will do, Sim.”

With a sigh, the receptionist acquiesces, a small silver piercing just below her bottom lip glinting as she shifts and reaches into a drawer at the desk, producing a pair of cuffs that look exactly the same as the ones Hoseok had used on you a few days ago.

She stretches them out towards you, but Hoseok intercepts and chooses to put them on you himself. Though they come connected together by the chain, he unclips and pockets it once the leather is snug around your wrists, leaving you claimed but still free to move. The meaning of the red trim still makes you shiver when you run your fingertips over it, and the sight makes Sim chuckle.

“First time here?” You aren’t sure if the cat-eyed beauty in front of you is asking you directly or Hoseok on your behalf, but you nod anyway. She hums, closing the drawer and pulling a sheet of paper out of another one and placing it on the desktop. “Just because you’re coming in attached to the Big Man doesn’t mean you get to skip the rules. Read them over and sign anywhere on the page to show you’ve understood. And I’ll need to see some ID, verify your age and all that.”

Fumbling to pull your ID out of your wallet, you hand it over and take the photocopy and the outstretched pen from her in turn, scanning the numbered list of rules. There aren’t any surprises, luckily; it reiterates the cuff colouring, safeword systems and staff on site, as well as emergency exits and procedures. There are places to buy drinks and snacks inside, but only spectators can consume alcohol.

“There’s a station for toy rental inside,” Sim explains, handing you back your ID after noting down your details, “with its own set of rules and everything, but I’m sure your Master here will be using his own stash. Our staff wear black clothes with red logos and arm bands, you can’t miss ‘em. Just sign if you’re good, and you two can go on through.”

Hoseok waits while you read, sharing some smalltalk with the two bodyguards in the meantime. Once you sign off and hand the items back to Sim, who dutifully stamps the sheet and files it away, your dom turns to you with a pleased grin. “Shall we?”

The moment Hoseok wraps his slender fingers around those devil tail door handles and pushes them inwards, sound fills the room, no longer held at bay by the seal of soundproofing. Chatter, laughter, the general hum of crowds - they all fill the space around moans and cries and cracks of whips, every possible noise you’d heard on a porn video or experienced over the past three weeks.

It was debauchery in every sense of the word, and Hoseok slipped into the thick of it like a duck in water.

With a single finger hooked onto one of your cuffs by the silver loop, he pulls you in with him, letting you soak in your surroundings as he leads you.

Though you didn’t really have any clear expectations, you’re shocked by the sheer amount of people inside, all gasping at Hoseok and parting in front of him like an adoring sea. The first area is relatively cosy, clearly just meant for socialising.

Couches surround the edges of the room, except for a small bar manned by two insanely hot guys. One effortlessly shakes up a drink, biceps pumping with the motion, and the other chats up a middle-aged woman who appears to flirt back, ignoring the older man kneeling at her feet with a pleading look in his eyes.

They fall out of your sight quickly as you move through a doorway, the sound dropping off just as suddenly. It’s not quite silence that greets you in the next room, however. Just about bumping into a row of occupied seats, Hoseok adjusts your direction so that you move around the back of the room, but that doesn’t stop you from glancing towards the front, where a whimpering girl is strapped to what looks like a medieval set of pillocks by the neck and wrists, her face wet with tears but alight with ecstasy as a gloved man demonstrates to a rapt audience how to fit an entire fist inside her.

Your eyes widen at how openly they display the obscene act. Then again, how is it any different from what you’d been doing in the Villa? Whether it was an audience at home watching through a screen, you’d still let yourself be viewed in much the same way. As Hoseok keeps you stumbling down the back of the room and out a different doorway, you think more about what being that girl on the stage might feel like.

Moving so quickly through the seemingly endless basement, you’re startled when suddenly you’re jolted to a stop in front of an elevator. Hoseok punches in a code that has to be at least seven or so digits on a little keypad beside the doors, before pressing the down arrow.

“Where are we going?” you question, voice still hushed as if you were in the theater.

“Bee’s office,” Hoseok answers simply, but the realisation that you’re about to play with the gorgeous spitfire - with Hoseok watching, no less - fills you with a restless arousal. “She doesn’t know whether you chose to even come here tonight or not, let alone play with her. We’re going to give her a little surprise, princess. I guess I did come bearing a gift after all.”

Once the lift arrives, he steps inside smoothly, no longer holding onto your cuffs. You jump inside, watching him select B2 off the limited selection of floors. “This used to be a carpark,” Hoseok explains casually as you’re slowly lowered down. “But when it got bought by the cinema, they didn’t really need it, so they leased the first below-ground floor to us for a pretty low price. We originally just kept this lift for wheelchair access, but once we got bigger and expanded a little, we decided to move our offices downstairs for an extra layer of privacy.”

The elevator chimes, opening its doors to reveal a hallway similar in appearance to the entrance foyer you first walked into. “But we aren’t going to your office?” you ask, curiosity making your skin itch as he walks right past a door with the letter H on a placard beside the knob.

“Not this time, princess.” Hoseok halts again, and you catch sight of a new door, this one with a B. Spinning on his heel, your dom turns to you and pats your cheeks with a grin, lowering his voice conspiriatorially. “If you’re Bee’s present, we better wrap you up nice, hm?”

Things start to feel distinctly more real when Hoseok undresses you right in that very corridor. You can’t help but worry that somebody could come down in the elevator at any moment, or the service stairs behind you. Watching you squirm with a barely-contained grin, Hoseok does nothing to assuage those fears.

He allows you to keep on your panties, kicking the rest of your clothes to the side and slipping off his own jacket to lay over your shoulders. Though it’s a little big on you, it’s laughably inadequate in covering you up, made of some less-than-opaque black fabric that betrays everything below down to the moles and freckles on your skin. Hoseok looks somehow even more intimidating without the piece on, a fitted tank top exposing his taut shoulders and modestly sculpted arms.

“Knock, princess,” Hoseok instructs, not without the warm hint of fondness that colours his voice.

You do so with a shaky hand - shivering partly from excitement and partly from the chill of air conditioning that fills the hallway.

“I’m busy!” a muffled voice calls out brightly, making Hoseok tut with a rueful smile.

He leans in so that his cheek almost brushes the hard wood. “Do you want to be busier?”

A pause, then footsteps drawing closer.

Before the door even opens fully, Bee is cooing loudly on the other side, clapping her hands in clear joy. “I knew it! Come in, come in!”

Her bubbly personality is at odds with the glossy red latex that covers her body, heels clicking with every skipped step back into her office. Bee waves you in first, letting you enter before you hear her voice lower, asking for permission to touch.

“She’s all yours, feel free to play with her to your heart’s desire,” Hoseok explains easily, making arousal pool between your legs, “the red is for you and me tonight.”

“Splendid,” Bee chirps from behind you, and you jump when you suddenly feel fingers brushing up your spine, even through the thin fabric of Hoseok’s jacket. “Take a seat, chickie, let’s talk.”

In her office, the Mistress shows that same duality of a cheery personality with her dominance. A large corner desk sits in the corner, with a small board of polaroids pinned to the wall and a little terracotta pot of violets and a spray bottle of water just beside it. A small cup with various items of stationery is complete with a tall pen with a fluffy pink pompom on the end, and even from what you can glimpse, it looks like her screensaver on her computer is some stylised LINE friends character.

Yet move your eyes anywhere else in the room, and you see a metal cage in one corner, a flogger hanging from a clothes peg behind the door, various fixtures on the walls, ceiling and furniture that speak of restraint and punishment.

As you perch delicately on a lowset sofa across from her desk, you wonder if Hoseok’s office is much the same. It certainly looks like Bee would take in subs here to play with her, judging by the equipment. Had Hoseok spent evenings with submissive women and men in his office, making them kneel and beg and serve?

The thought stirs something inside you, and for a moment you think it’s jealousy. But then Hoseok beams at you with a salacious wink, settling onto the corner of Bee’s desk, and you realise that it’s less envy and more the feeling like there were parts of him you were missing out on. That there was still so much you had to discover of him, to experience with him.

You wonder if he’ll let you come back to see him here one day, after all this is over.

Suddenly, your view of him is obstructed by the deep red of Bee’s corset and latex pants, her hands on her hips. “You’re looking a little too much at him and not enough at me, chickie,” she croons, almost conspiriatorially as you crane your neck to meet her gaze. She tilts her head, lips curled. “Do we have to send him out?”

You shake your head adamantly, unable to stop your eyes from quickly darting behind her.

She chuckles. “Cute. So soft for her Master.” Your head feels hazy as she slips her fingers into your hair, stroking your head fondly. “I think your Master is soft on you too, baby.”

Without much fanfare, Bee swivels and sits herself down beside you, so close your shoulders and thighs press together. You suck in a breath at the closeness, but the domme just gets closer, flicking your hair over your shoulder and rubbing at the nape of your neck as she watches you intently.

“Did Hobi give you the full tour?” she asks in a low voice, the slight graze of her fingernails making you shiver. “What was your favourite room so far, I wonder?”

You go to shrug, put on the spot so suddenly, but before you can Hoseok pipes up. “The theater,” he states without room for disagreement.

At the thought of the room, you feel desire swim within you. The image of that girl, so vulnerable as a room of at least thirty strangers watched her, analysed her, enjoyed her pleasure just as much as she did. That image hadn’t really left your head since the moment you saw it. Before you even realised it yourself, Hoseok had known. Something about that made you dizzy with your want for him.

But tonight was about Bee, about the intoxicating feeling of being so close to a beautiful, powerful woman. The lady herself hums, pleased. “The theater,” she repeats in a low voice. “Do you like watching, baby?”

“She’s on a porn show,” Hoseok butts in again, his eyes like pointed furnaces on you, wetting his lips between words, “give her more credit than that.”

This time, Bee straightens up and narrows her eyes at the man across from you. “You can stop answering on her behalf, Hoseok, or I’ll put you out myself. You said I get to play with her tonight.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he retorts in a slightly sarcastic, petulant tone, but shoves his hands in his pockets and presses his lips together anyway.

Bee turns back to you, letting her fingers tuck beneath the collar of Hoseok’s jacket so that her palm rests against your bare back. Stroking slowly, she smiles, her eyes glittering. “We can play on the big stage if you want, baby. Would you like that?”

The opportunity, a little bit frightening but mostly extremely arousing, makes you squeeze your thighs together with a hard swallow. “Yes, please,” you mumble in a small voice.

Her smile widens, caramel skin positively glowing in the warm light of her office. “Perfect,” she drawls happily, before standing up, back arching slightly as she stretches. “Then there are a few rules you need to know before I take you out there.”

The two dominants share a look, Hoseok lifting his brow at something written on Bee’s face. “Really?” he questions in surprise, chuckling reluctantly. “You’re going all out, huh?”

Even as confusion overtakes you, you watch in rapt curiosity as Bee shrugs, slipping past him to open a tall, skinny cabinet just behind her desk. There’s a large, dark brown coat there, but her hand delves deeper, pulling out a thin yet tough-looking strand of nylon rope, a suggestive deep red almost the same shade as her bodice.

“I dyed these myself,” Bee explains, her voice light and warm like honey. You watch as she lets the length pass over her palm loosely. “I don’t know if Hoseok told you, but rope bondage is my specialty. If you wear this, everyone out there will know you belong to me.”

You bite your lip, heart racing as she slips off Hoseok’s jacket, chucking it towards him without a glance as she keeps her focus on you. Her eyes gleam as she slips the rope around your back, beginning to loop and fold it. “What are the rules?” you ask, voice already airy with the arousal that peaks your nipples and sends shivers down your spine with every drag of the rope.

If it was possible, Bee appears to have even more subdued prowess with ropes than Hoseok does, her fingers nimble and practiced, moving so quickly that it leaves lines of hot friction against your skin. “The rules?” she repeats casually. “Well, the first one is that I expect you to address me by my proper title. Do you know what that is?”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you nod. “Mistress,” you croak out, almost stuttering on the word that feels so unfamiliar on your tongue. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment only heightened by how close she stands to you, flooding your senses.

“That’s right, chickie,” she praises, tugging the rope suddenly, making sure there’s no give as your bare chest is yanked forward. Satisfied, she tucks the ends in neatly and places her hands on your waist, taking in her work. It’s a basic chest harness, like one you remember Hoseok putting you in, but there’s beautiful flair all over, with arches and keyholes and braids that slip between your breasts, along your spine, shoulders and ribs. Almost like a bralette, the main difference being that your breasts themselves are fully exposed to her - and Hoseok’s - roving gaze.

“Now,” she continues, “rule two. You don’t have permission to speak unless I ask you a question. I used the limit sheet for you that’s on the Bangasm website, but if there are any changes throughout the scene, the only words you can say at any time are your safewords. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, but here at Red we use the stoplight system. Is that clear?”

It’s easier to say the second time. “Yes, mistress.” Still, the excitement low in your belly just grows with the way she nods in approval. Your desire to please sets in quickly, and the rope on your chest and the leather around your wrists feel like a promise of what’s to come if you continue to please her.

Jerking her head to indicate that Hoseok should open the door for her, Bee turns to you and hooks a finger under a strand of the rope, just under your breast. “And the final rule is more important since this is my first time playing with you. If something feels good, you thank me for it. Like this.”

Before you can even process it, lips softer than silk press against yours, chaste but unforgiving as you’re pinned in place by the harness in her grip. She smells sweet, slightly floral like gardenia or jasmine, and she tastes like strawberry chapstick.

When Bee finally pulls away, your head feels hazy, on a lag. Your lips still tingle from the missing contact, but you let out a dreamy, “thank you, Mistress,” without even thinking.

She grins at your reaction and turns towards the door, pulling you behind her with that finger caught on the rope. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a sweet girl like you to play with,” she croons back at you, before patting Hoseok on the chest with her free hand. “Thank you for the gift, Hobi.”

There’s a strangely smug feeling inside you as Bee leads you out of the office, back into the chill hallway and up the elevator. Hoseok trails behind, and some part of you is thriving in that feeling of being the focus of his and her attention. And even as you’re led back into the theatre, going right through the middle of the seats before veering off to the right to go behind the wings, the eyes on you feel electric.

Just like that woman that was on the stage earlier - it now sits empty in an interlude, the audience chatting amongst themselves - you feel like a pillar of desire, a pretty thing for everyone to look at, but only for a few to touch. The red cuffs and red rope lift you higher into that headspace, submissive yet superior in a way.

The attention of those strangers is addictive, and any uncertainty disappears with the need for them to replace those brief glances of curiosity with full stares, the kind of intense focus that you’d only receive by being out on that stage.

There are a fair amount of people backstage. At least three or four people in black shirts with STAFF printed in glossy block letters flitter around, chatting to the others or checking equipment. The lady from earlier is still behind there, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, like one you’d see in a sick bay in high school. A large man, beefy like a body builder, tenderly hugs her from behind as they sit on a couch, and takes a bottle of lemonade from a staff member, gently encouraging her to drink.

You hear Bee catching the attention of a staff member holding a clipboard, chatting to him, but your attention is caught by the woman. Her face is glistening with tears, sweat and even some drool, and she looks exhausted yet elated, giggling weakly when her dom pats her clean with a paper towel. With a kind of delicate care and patience that seems at odds with his rather aggressive appearance, his lips move close by her ear, words just meant to be shared between the two of them.

When you did intense scenes with the guys, did you look like that? The thought sticks in your mind as Bee’s bright voice remains in the background. There was something so loving and meaningful about the connection that you felt to the guys after a scene like that, and the couple in front of you seems like a physical representation of that emotion.

Suddenly, pain spikes in your chest at the reminder that you’ll never have that connection with Jin again, that every week you’d have less and less moments like those. And instead of cherishing them, you were here, about to do a scene with a near stranger, in front of actual strangers.

Suddenly, your original idea of escaping the Villa doesn’t seem to be as appealing.

Glancing up, that pain turns to alarm as there’s a missing presence around you. Bee is finishing her conversation, waving away the staff member before turning to you, but the two of you stand alone.

“Mistress,” you offer up, biting harshly on your tongue when you realise belatedly you’re breaking her second rule already, “where is Hoseok?”

Before she can furrow her brows for your disobedience, they knit together instead in concern. “He’s getting a good seat in the audience, chickie. Were you not paying attention?”

Your cheeks heat, and you apologise in a rush, letting your eyes dart over to the post-scene couple one last time. She’s fallen asleep, his chin propped up gently on the crown of your head, and you feel like you’re intruding by observing them any longer.

Bee notes your distraction, but just sends you a bemused smile and grasps your chin so that you’re forced to face her. “We’re going to go on now,” she enunciates clearly, and the reminder of reality clears your mind a little, “I’m due to teach a demonstration on bondage, are you okay with that? It’s nothing too intense.”

You nod quickly. Perhaps there was something wrong with you, or perhaps you were just kinkier than you thought, but in your experience, being tied up or tied down felt calming and grounding in a way that you think is necessary given the whole new world of live exhibition that you’re about to undertake. “I’m okay with it, Mistress.”

“Good. Keep our rules in mind, chickie; let’s go have fun.”

For some reason, applause is not something you’d considered, expected or prepared for. Your cheeks heat the moment you step out, lights so bright that the audience is swimming silhouettes, and are met with passionate clapping.

Though you know it’s for Bee - she drinks it in with a proud beam, totally in her element on stage - it’s an audible reminder of the attention on you right now. If your panties weren’t soaked through before, you can definitely feel wetness on your thighs now.

“Thank you, thank you, it’s good to be back up here!” she cheers out, and you jump when her voice reverberates. The sound carries in here so well that just a speaking voice seems to fill the room. You wonder if later on, your own moans will surround you in much the same way.

Bee lets go of her grip on your harness and ducks her head in, quickly instructing you to kneel in a ‘comfortable way’. You’re surprised when the stage floor is solid, yet not as painful as you’d expect on your bare knees. You adjust a bit so that the pressure is off your kneecaps and ankles, and look up at the domme, listening to her spiel.

“Welcome back to our Red Members, and welcome for the first time for any newcomers. My name is Mistress Bee, I’m the resident bondage, suspension and shibari expert here.” She pauses while a few scattered claps ring out, and you preen when she shifts to the side, stroking the top of your head as she continues. “Last week I did a demonstration with the lovely Mikey on some common suspension ties. From week to week, I want to teach you all the ins and outs of suspension, because it’s a very rewarding craft for the dom and the sub, but it’s also pretty complex. So before we get into off-ground suspension, this week I want to show you my favourite intermediate step: sex swings.”

Your heart thuds, glancing up so quickly that her hand falls over your forehead and eyes, but she just smiles placidly down at you and pinches your cheeks playfully, making a few of the audience members chuckle.

“I have a pretty little chickie here with me today to help me out. Seems like she didn’t guess what we were playing with today, huh?”

Unsure whether it’s rhetoric or not, you carefully mutter a, “no, Mistress.”

“It’s a fun surprise, then,” she quips, before turning back to the audience. With slow, clicking steps, she makes her way to the side of the stage you’d come from, gesturing to a couple staff members.

Your mouth goes dry as a industrial-looking metal post gets lowered from the ceiling, running parallel to the ground, but taller than your arms could reach standing up when it groans to a stop. Two guys rush on stage with a black pile of leather and metal, connecting the chains to the metal pole in two different places. The major component is a flat piece of stiff fabric, clearly meant for your body, with two leather loops on one side to prop up your legs. With the way they’ve hooked it up, you’ll be side-on to the audience.

“Sex swings seem a little cheesy,” Bee begins, and you jump when her voice comes from behind you, varnished nails running over the bare skin of your upper shoulders. “But they’re actually a really good stepping stone for suspension. The dom gets used to maneuvering someone else that’s off the ground, and the sub can experience what it’s like not having their weight supported by the floor at all. They’re also far more cost-effective than good quality suspension gear.”

As Bee explains, your eyes wince against the lights, trying to make out the blurred lines of people in the audience. Hoseok was in there, right now, watching you. But you couldn’t see him. Your heart beats a little harder in alarm, but you force yourself to keep in the scene, wanting to make the most of this unique experience.

The jingle of metal echoes through the modest theater as Bee checks the stability of the sex swing, and soon enough she’s instructing you to stand up and come stand in front of it. You do so as quickly as possible without running over, so excited about being put up in the swing for her to play with that you can barely stand still.

“Let’s get these panties off first,” she decides, hooking in a finger and snapping the waistband against your hip to make you jump. You push them down before you can secondguess it, and just like that, you’re naked in front of a room full of strangers.

Getting up into the swing would be a little awkward normally, but Bee’s unending charisma and charm makes it feel easy. She holds it steady while you do a little jump to rest your ass onto the flat bed, then gets you to lie down, praising you warmly even as she gives professional advice to the audience.

Lying down is okay - your head hangs a little off the edge, so that your vision is upside down and your neck is arched, but the fabric is surprisingly comfortable so it’s no imposition - but one she slips those loops past your feet, resting them in the crooks of your knees, everything suddenly feels very real.

This is exposure in a very different sense. There’s not much give in the chains for safety, but it means that your thighs are spread wide open with no way to cover yourself.

Bee’s rapport with the crowd watching is a steady stream of reassurance, but by the time she lifts your wrists, using the clips on the chain and the loops on your cuffs to bind them straight up, leaving you entirely vulnerable, your chest begins to heave, breaths quick and shallow.

“Still with me, chickie?” Bee questions, and you let out a choked moan when she circles round to your top half, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between her fingers softly, the contact grounding you. “Give me a colour.”

Remembering Hoseok’s advice, you pause and take a moment to really think it over. “Green, Mistress,” you decide, trembling when she rewards you by sliding her hand down your chest and stomach, two fingers dipping lower to feel how wet you are, stroking your clit. Your back arches, thighs tense, but there’s nowhere you can go to escape the pleasure she gives you. “Th-thank you, Mistress.”

Leaning over you, patting your cheek fondly, Bee beams down at you. “Good girl,” she praises warmly, before glancing out towards the audience. “So well-behaved, isn’t she? Should I give her a quick reward before we continue?”

Your eyes slip shut in bliss as you hear the audience cheer and clap in your favour, imagining one of them to be Hoseok, watching you from below.

After hearing out the crowd, Bee adjusts her position so that instead of up by your head, she’s between your legs, that hand still lazily rubbing over you as the other grips your waist. “Alright, I won’t argue with that,” the domme quips teasingly, and chuckles as you go rigid suddenly when those two fingers plunge inside of you, crooking up to massage your walls.

There’s nothing you can to do move towards or away the touch. The swing has you completely at her mercy, and that just makes every stroke that much more overwhelming. Bee fucks you on her fingers with a swift, unforgiving pace, and you whine as the obscene wet noise echoes throughout the room.

You feel dirty; dripping on stage as your fists wrap around the chains and your pussy tightens around her. But the taboo and debauchery just turns you on more, and the moment she increases to three fingers, you no longer try to hold back or muffle yourself. A loud cry spills from your lips as she presses against your g-spot, and her gleeful chuckle arouses you even more.

The knowledge that an entire roomful of people are watching you is so hot that you feel electric, but it’s the reminder that Hoseok is somewhere amongst them that sends you over the edge. You spasm in the swing as you cum, hard, and Bee doesn’t let up for a moment, taking advantage of your restraints to continue to fuck you through your orgasm, her other hand joining to rub roughly at your clit to make you sob in oversensitivity. It’s not until your toes and fingers tingle with the force of it that she finally slows down, taking her hands off you with a cheery sigh of exertion.

“Thank you, Mistress,” you try to say, though it probably comes out slurred or garbled. You shiver as aftershocks periodically thrum through your veins, making your muscles twitch, and your eyes slip open to the feeling of Bee pressing a chaste kiss of approval to the back of your hand, still bound to the chain.

“Now,” she says, still a little breathless, “onto the main event. One of the more difficult things of…”

Though you try and stay alert, your body is exhausted and satisfied, and the suspension just makes you feel even more floaty than you normally would after a good orgasm. Your mind flits in and out, and you feel at peace until you hear the echoing click click of heels on hard floor, and see the blurry figure of Bee disappearing backstage.

Alarm flares red inside you, making your heart beat overtime and your nerves screech. You wriggle your arms and legs, but there’s no give, and even as you crane your neck to the side, the stage lights prevent you from being able to find your dom in the audience.

There’s no use in trying to stay calm. Even as that clicking returns, Bee already returning to you, you feel unsafe and anxious, the safeword on your tongue.

But it’s not the safeword that comes out when you find your voice. “H-hobi,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as panic flares in your chest.

Before his name has even fully left your lips, there are hands on your shoulder, rough with callouses. There’s the familiar musk that grounds you, and the heat of a body that cradles your head and presses his lips to your temple, cooing sweet nothings to calm you.

Bee’s voice floats around you, apologising profusely not only to you but to the audience too, but as you open your eyes and see Hoseok, his eyes brimming with concern, you burst into tears of pure relief, wishing you could reach out to him.

Like he knows your needs without you even articulating them, he unclips your wrist cuffs from the chains one at a time, slowly helping you sit up as Bee’s hands are on your legs, taking off the loops that had held them spread open earlier.

The moment you’re up, you fall into Hoseok like he’s a lifeline, clinging to him as your tears wet his sleeveless shirt. His skin is hot against yours, and his chest seems to rise and fall faster than normal as he holds you tightly, stroking your hair.

“I’m here,” he chants over and over, the words like liquid comfort cocooning you. The audience slips away, even Bee taking orders from Hoseok on what to go get is tuned out as you lean into that feeling of security that Hoseok’s embrace gives you.

At one point, he wants to move you offstage for some privacy, but your legs won’t stop shaking. Without a word of complaint, he’s lifting you up with one arm under your ass and the other around your back, guiding you to wrap your arms and legs around him.

It’s all too easy to burrow your face into the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent, your heart rate slowing from the spike of adrenaline. By the time his weight shifts, and you feel the smooth, cool leather of a couch beneath you, exhaustion has seeped into your very bones. You barely have enough energy to focus back on his voice, but you force yourself to, blinking blearily as he cups your cheek and meets your gaze.

“I think I know what happened there, what spooked you,” Hoseok says slowly, his eyes deadly serious even as his fingers gently stroke your jaw. “Did you not like not being able to see or touch either of us?” You manage to nod weakly, and Hoseok’s brows furrow in internal guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he apologises hoarsely, “I should’ve warned her before, I should’ve been closer-”

He breaks off as Bee rushes over, face pinched, and hands Hoseok a folded up blanket. The feeling of the soft, yet slightly weighted fabric covering your naked skin feels like heaven, and it calms you just that little bit more.

Hoseok meets your gaze again. “Bee wants to chat to you, princess, to say sorry. Do you want to see her now or talk with her later?”

You feel guilty for saying it, but you just want to selfishly indulge in Hoseok now, no one else. “Later,” you admit, and the domme nods in solemn understanding, bowing her head at the two of you before departing.

“What do you need, Y/n?” Hoseok asks, in a voice so low it could be a whisper. You blink at him, at the deep concern on his face. “What can I do to make you feel okay? To feel safe and calm?”

You know the answer. It’s not something you’d admit normally, not something you’d request were you not feeling so terribly adrift and in need of comfort. You fist your hands in his shirt - wrists still adorned in red cuffs that said you were his - and wet your lips. “Kiss me?”

He pauses long enough that you think he may deny you, but then you feel his chest rumble with the words, “just this once,” before he dips his head and kisses you, slowly and carefully, like you might break. Your heart swells with every slight movement of his lips, but they’re gone all too soon, replaced by your own fingers as you touch your lips in wonder. “Better?” he asks in a strained voice, still stroking your back through the blanket.

“Better,” you reply, though already you miss his lips on yours. But feeling his arms around you, and his heart beat against your ear when you lie down is good enough for you, enough for now.

#bts smut #hoseok smut #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #ot7 smut #ot7 x reader #cypherwritersnet #kpopuniversenet #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #namseok #bts fanfic #bts series

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akabane-yum · 3 years

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OTP Asks - All Of Them (9-16) <- Part One

For @toorumochi assass :P

For the Angst

9. Have they made each other cry?

Short answer: Yes

Long answer:

Karma knew that Gakushuu would be a difficult person to live with and that he was sensitive despite his hard exterior, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get annoyed too sometimes.

That night they were arguing about who knows what, saying things they didn’t mean, when the insults became half truths and eventually full truths that became insults. Karma said something along the lines of “Oh, and it’s not my fault your dad didn’t raise you right but it your fault that you’re becoming exactly like him, don’t ask me why I’ll need therapy more than twice a week after this.”

If it hadn’t already clicked to Gakushuu that they were fighting fighting before then, now he got the message. He ran out of the room without another word and Karma had to pace to cool down. Karma decided to sleep on the couch that night and only realized Shuu went off crying the next morning, when the air was cold and rigid and Shuu had tear stains under his eyes. Karma didn’t say anything though, he didn’t really know how to fix it. They ended up spending that whole day apart and eventually had a long talk.

———————

Gakushuu made Karma cry when he told him they’d probably end up breaking up. Karma was joking about meeting Shuu’s mom and Shuu just laughed saying he didn’t think they’d make it that far. That messed with Karma’s perception of permanence and what he thought they were. He thought they were gonna get married some day and that they were going to live together and... what? He tried to ask Gakushuu why he thought they wouldn’t make it and Shuu seemed unbothered. He said something about how they were incompatible in many ways and how they were both handfuls and how life would get harder and how Karma probably wouldn’t be able to handle all the weird changes in Gakushuu’s life because of how the businesses was booming. They said goodnight after that and Karma found himself outside at 3am taking a walk. He didn’t realize he was crying till he came home and Shuu asked him why he was crying. His first instinct was to say he was doing drugs but that would get them nowhere. Instead he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and they went to bed. He could think about permanence another day. And he did, they talked about both that and their insecurities going forward to try to salvage their relationship. (I can imagine that this is a few years into their relationship.)

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

In another post !

11. What causes them to fight?

The lighthearted answer would be: anything and everything. They fight over how many pillows they need but always laugh about it in the end.

Another answer would be: the fact that at the beginning of their relationship they were insecure about themselves. You know you really shouldn’t get into a relationship until you love yourself enough, at least in most cases. But for them I’m guessing that the mutual attraction was enough for them to get together, which isn’t always bad b u t for them they had a lot to unpack. It’s surprising and maybe even kinda toxic that they stayed together after the first part of their relationship but now they’re happy. I can imagine that they’re happier as adults at least, and that they still do fight over small things like the TV volume but those fights don’t even count as fights. It’s just a little conversation to keep them going yknow?

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

Kinda? Gakushuu is a businessman and probably took a course called “creating capitalism” so we can assume he’s pro capitalism, and on the other hand Karma joined the bureaucracy in Japan (and Japan is, if I’m not mistaken, a socialist country) so he’s probably at least pro socialism.

I just want to comment on how this is cool because Gakushuu being pro capitalism is a solo player as the CEO with the most shares of his corporation. Whereas Karma who we assume is pro socialism works as a bureaucrat for the government. Which is cool because capitalism is more about individuals climbing the corporate ladder and whatnot whereas socialism is more of a government intervention thing where the government has control and places limitations. (There’s way more to it but I tried to badly summarize.) So they’re both doing very well in their respective economies. That being said, we could go into the capitalist tendencies in Japan but we won’t! AHEM THE MAIN QUESTION WAS ABOUT POLITICS BUT I WARPED IT SORRY THEYRE PROBABLY BOTH MORE LIBERAL BUT I WONT GO INTO THAT.

Anyways to finish off explaining the “kinda” I answered with, I said kinda because I don’t think they feel strongly enough about their own (preferred) economies to argue about it. Though maybe Karma will complain about some of the disparity in wealth he sees between Gakushuu and others but honestly I don’t see them caring much, since they have the luxury of living in their own bubble of karushuu happy fun. I hope this blurb made sense.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person

Gakushuu would never give up his ambitions to be with Karma. Sounds sad but after letting go of some of those insecurities that were there at first, he’s found his self worth and won’t give up all his hard work for anyone. Is that selfish? Personally I don’t think so, because it would be selfish for someone to ask him to let go of his dreams for them. Karma would never do that anyway, so. By give up his ambitions for Karma I mean like if Karma were to ask Gakushuu to drop his work or him, he’d be dropping Karma.

Karma would never settle down entirely because Gakushuu asked him to. This is similar to the first one but I don’t think he wants to calm down and live in another tropical country and retire young just because they have enough money you know? Not like Gakushuu would ever ask him to slow down but if he did then Karma would still probably work a few jobs because of how boring life would be without something to do. This is basically like Gakushuu’s but I feel like Karma’s is less intense and he wouldn’t break up with Gakushuu right away because of this.

Take that as you will ^^

14. What would be a dealbreaker

This is the same as the last one I think. Telling the other to slow down and pick between their passions (for work lmao) or them. Since it’s the same ish for both of them I don’t think there would be that much of an issue though. Maybe if Karma killed Shuu’s cat then that would be a dealbreaker, who knows.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

Karma dislikes how Gakushuu is a workaholic and Gakushuu hates how Karma is taller than him :P also how quick he is at making impulsive decisions. HmMm maybe also how Karma snores- that’s not even a trait i- anywayyyyssss

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other.

Oh boy. I’ve thought about this for not karushuu things too so here’s my take on this:

Karma would consider Gakushuu as an addition to the toxic people in his life. First his parents, then some of his teachers, and now his first boyfriend. He’d remember the happy moments they had together but quickly try to replace them with the sadder memories. He’d try his best to paint Gakushuu is the worst lighting, he’d villainize (not a word but shh) him so he could go on thinking he didn’t do anything wrong and it was Gakuhsuu’s toxicness that tore them apart.

Gakushuu wouldn’t think of Karma. Not after a bit of time, not because Karma never came to mind again after the breakup, but because any thoughts of Karma would be illegal. Honestly I can see him thinking that his time with Karma was an era of weakness. He can’t go back to that weak state, not even in his memories, so he doesn’t. (Well maybe in the middle of the night some days he does but he’d never admit to that.) I hope my grammar here was bearable lmao.

I’m sorry I’m tired lmao I can’t proofread but yk :))) next part up soon!

#asano gakushuu #assassination classroom #karushuu #karma akabane #karma x gakushuu #shoe #akabane karma #otp #ask otp #angst #breakup #headcanon #otp headcanons #asks #yoit #anyways

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superfanficnatural · 3 years

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To Build A Home

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: With the mark on your hand growing out of control and Corypheus needing to be stopped, there was no shortage of problems for the Inquisitor. However, once your hand is forced, what will it mean for you and Cullen?

A/N: Hey guys! I’ve recently joined the Dragon Age fandom because oh my GOD their games are ridiculously good. Because of that, I have fallen head over heels for Cullen Rutherford (aka resident daddy) and I wanted to write something for him. I don’t currently have a masterlist for DAI so this post won’t be linked anywhere until I set it up. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, Angst.

Word Count: 3,119

Ever since the Inquisition was first formed, you could have never guessed that it would have led to you leading it and falling in love with your general, Cullen. You were the only one who could close the rifts with the anchor but you couldn’t do it alone, recruiting all types of comrades to help you in your fight. You had built the Inquisition from the ground up; taking over different forts and strongholds in the name of the Inquisition, closed numerous rifts across Ferelden and Orlais, recruited the best of the best to join you, and spread the influence of your organization. Throughout this, you and Cullen had been drawn to each other from the very beginning. There was something about him that drove you crazy. His confident and authoritative aura, paired with his kind hearted nature was something that melted your heart every time. Even during War meetings, he would offer you a small smile, avoiding the gaze of Josephine but never Leliana, for she was invested in your relationship. You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that rose in your chest whenever it had happened. That man had made you feel things you never thought you ever would, and you confided in him. With the heavy amount of responsibility that was on your shoulders, Cullen had offered himself as a shoulder to lean on and you were infinitely grateful to him for that. In return, you had done the same for him, wanting to show him just how much you cared for him. You remembered when the two of you had finally decided to stop dancing around it and finally admit your feelings for one another.

It was after you had gotten back from retaking the stronghold in Crestwood with the help of Hawke, stopping a ritual that was sacrificing Grey Wardens to summon more demons. You had walked up to his quarters with determination fueling you, repeating the same words in your head like a mantra, “Admit that you have feelings for him, admit you have feelings for him.” Though nothing went according to plan.

Opening the door to Cullen’s quarters, you walked in, Cullen’s gaze rising from the map on the desk to meet your own, a smile small spreading across his face.

“Inquisitor! How may I assist you?” he greeted, formal as ever which made you roll your eyes.

“Cullen, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

He smiled, a bit embarrassed, “S-sorry, Y/N. Is there something that you... wanted to talk about?” his left arm reached back behind his head to nervously scratch at the scalp.

He looked ridiculously adorable and you couldn’t help but blush a bit seeing the influence you had on him. You walked up to him, stopping only about a foot away and looked directly into his eyes.

“Cullen, I...” you had the words but you couldn’t say them, the look of anticipation in his eyes rendering you unable to form words. “I uh... I gotta go!” you mentally beat yourself to a pulp and sprinted out of the room. Not ran, sprinted.

You left a very flustered and confused Cullen behind and ran to your quarters, ignoring everyone looking at you in confusion. Though, when you got to your room, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers and never speak to anyone again, you walked into Iron Bull laying back nearly naked on your bed like he owned the damn thing.

“B-bull!?” you nearly shouted.

“Look, Boss, I get it. You want to ride the bull, but I don’t think you know what you’re-”

“WHAT?!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, stopping him mid-sentence.

He hid his surprise at your reaction fairly well, continuing on hesitantly, “You see, us Qunari have rather large... weapons. I don’t believe that you could take it.”

The door suddenly slammed open, “The only ‘weapon’ that Y/N is going to be taking is mine!”

You had slowly turned around to face the door to see a red faced Cullen with his hand slapped over his mouth, to then hear Bull begin laughing behind you.

“Ohhhh, I see what’s going on here, I’ll just leave you two be,” he said, walking past you and Cullen to leave the room, closing the door behind him.

“Uhm, Inquisitor! Uhhh...” Cullen was a blubbering mess, unable to even form a single sentence, his face as red as a tomato.

As embarrassed, weirded out, and nervous as you were, you took your chance, “Cullen, what was it that you said when you walked in?”

His eyes widened, “N-n-nothing! I didn’t say anything at all!”

You hid your smile and forced your feet forward towards him, knowing that it was now or never, “Because if I heard you correctly, I would have to agree with you.”

He looked completely and utterly shocked, “O-oh... is that so?” he asked nervously.

You wringed your hands out by your sides, unbelievably nervous, “Cullen I-” you were at the precipice and you were still hesitating, but instead, you slapped yourself.

Literally slapping yourself, Cullen blinked in confusion, but the pain snapped you out of it. You surged forward and connected your lips to his, Cullen going stiff for a second before he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You’ll never forget how happy you were on that day. While it was rather embarrassing half of the time, it led to you leading the most wonderful love story with Cullen you could ever imagine. Though, it was difficult, having to leave Skyhold so often to fight against hundreds of enemies. You knew the effect that it had on Cullen, he would plead with you, pray to the Maker that you would fight and return to him safely. One of the things that made you fall for Cullen so hard was how loving he was, he loved with all of his heart and he wasn’t afraid to tell you how he felt. Though, most of the time it included him blushing but that simply made it even better.

Now, you were simply days away from confronting Corypheus in the Arbor Wilds. You led the bulk of the Inquisition forces, Cullen coming with you this time. You both knew that it was the end of the line. If you didn’t defeat Corypheus today, you would die, and so would the rest of the world. There was a heavy blanket over the two of you that day, you didn’t want to say goodbye, the both of you refused to even accept dying as a possible outcome, but you also didn’t want to revel in each other, the fear of losing that overbearing. As you reached Corypheus’ stronghold, you knew that this was something only you could do alone. Turning to Cullen, Corypheus could be heard in the back, taunting you, daring you to run to your death. You ignored him, focusing solely on Cullen. You could tell that he was using all of the will in his body to not break and stay strong, but you knew him well enough to see through his facade easily.

You walked up to him and smiled lovingly, “Cullen Rutherford, I love you.”

A tear fell down his cheek as he responded, “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Come back to me.”

The two of you shared one last kiss before you pulled away and smiled, turning to leave and meet your fate. For days, your mark had been growing and pulsing on your arm, it had never hurt before but now, it felt like your arm was being ripped off. You hid it from Cullen though, not wanting him to worry and not wanting to break his heart. You knew that you weren’t going to make it no matter what happened today, but you knew that no matter what, you were going to save Cullen.

“Foolish mortal, have you come to die?” Corypheous sneered at you, orb in hand as you reached the top of the tower.

You ignored him and instead looked down to the valley, seeing Cullen looking back at you. You couldn’t hold eye contact for long for he had sent a pulse of magic at you, forcing you to roll out of the way before recovering.

“This has gone on for too long, Corypheus! It’s time for your reign of terror to come to an end!” you shouted at him, building up the energy in your mark.

He laughed, “After I kill you, I shall lay waste to this world, starting with those mongrels down there.”

You could feel the mark radiating pure energy, sparks flying off of your hand and drawing Corypheus' attention.

“No, what are you doing?” he shouted, blasting a surge of magic at you.

It was too late, it reflected right off of you and suddenly you felt your body being lifted. Ever since you had first gotten the mark, you had spent every ounce of energy in your body making sure that you would never lose control. But now... you let go. Raw energy was coursing through your veins as you were lifted into the air, a ball of rift energy swirling around you. You opened your eyes to see Corypheus in fear, and Cullen looking on in worry.

Before you released all of the energy you had accumulated, you looked towards Cullen, mouthing, “I’m sorry, my love,” and released everything that you were holding.

Boom

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

It was a beautiful afternoon day when you and Cullen had decided to take a walk around Skyhold. You had found some free time after being gone for almost an entire month sealing rifts, making alliances, and spreading the Inquisitions influence. Frankly, you didn’t think you had the energy to do anything else for a while, you were completely wiped and wanted to do nothing but just be with the love of your life. Holding his hand as the two of you walked down the gentle breeze into the garden was soothing, it was exactly what you needed.

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” Cullen broke the peaceful silence.

You turned to look at him to see the pure adoration and awe in his orbs as he gazed upon you, “What?”

“This Inquisition wouldn’t be what it is today if it weren’t for you, and neither would I,” he added with a small blush forming on his rosy cheeks.

You blushed slightly as well with a smile, “You give me too much credit, you, Cassandra, and Leliana do all of the work, I just go out and fight and close rifts.”

He gave you an annoyed look, “And you dare pretend that your job isn’t a thousand times more dangerous than ours?”

You smiled at his protectiveness, “Cullen, I’m fine, and no one is as strong as me,” you flexed your arm with a goofy smile.

This broke him as he bent over laughing at your ridiculousness, the two of you sharing a chuckle before he straightened with a serious expression, “Y/N...”

You pulled him into a hug, resting your head on his warm chest, feeling his arms embrace you, “You have nothing to worry about, I will always fight to come back to you, no matter what.”

You could feel his relieved sigh, “You mean more to me than anything or anyone I’ve ever encountered. Even the slightest thought of losing you-”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I will always come back to you, my love.”

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

The ground quaked with the magnitude of the explosion but Cullen didn’t even register it, shouting out at the top of his lungs for his entire world to still be alive. He ran directly towards the rubble, the sounds of people shouting his name behind him tuned out. He dug and dug for hours, Inquisition agents helping with the efforts.

“Over here!” someone had shouted.

Cullen ran as fast as his legs could carry him to a beaten and broken version of the person that owned his heart and his soul.

“No,” he whispered brokenly, dropping to his knees next to your body.

He reached his shaking hand out to cup your bloodied cheek, “You promised... you promised that you would come back.”

The only thing that the remaining soldiers could hear were the cries of their general, wishing that he had been taken instead.

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

Cullen was slunken over his desk at Skyhold, mugs of drunken beer scattered around, papers crinkled up and tossed haphazardly around the room. After the death of the Inquisitor, the mission of the Inquisition was completed, but Cullen had lost his will to live.

“You promised me,” he mumbled, the tears rolling down his cheeks, “you promised you would come back.”

He held the necklace you had made for him tightly in his fist, pressing it against his heart in an attempt to ease the ache that was spreading out of it.

“Cullen, do you have a moment-” Leliana was stopped in her tracks as she saw Cullen curled up in the corner of the dark room.

She also immediately began to tear up but kept it hidden, walking towards Cullen and kneeling in front of him, “Cullen, I have something that might interest you.” He brought his gaze up to meet hers, “And what could possibly interest me, nothing does anymore.”

She sighed softly, “After the Inquisitor...” she felt a lump rise in her throat, “after the battle with Corypheous, I began to take care of all the loose ends the Inquisitor left behind. And in doing so, I came across this,” she took a piece of parchment out of her pocket and extended it to him.

Cullen wiped his tears and hesitantly grabbed it from her hands, “Hinterlands, in the Dead Ram Grove, the project is finally finished. Cullen will love it.”

He gasped, “This is in the Inquisitor’s handwriting!” He sprawled up immediately, “What was this project of his?”

Leliana looked crestfallen, “As a spymaster, I should know the information for what you ask, but the Inquisitor kept this project a well kept secret. You must go and find out for yourself.”

Not even thirty minutes after Leliana had presented Cullen with the parchment, he had set out for Dead Ram Grove.

“Where is it?!” Cullen shouted out, saddled on his horse as he looked around the area.

He wandered around on horseback, covering almost every last inch of the area until he came upon a house.

“Impossible,” he spoke in a breathless whisper.

In front of him was almost an exact replica of a house he had wished for his entire life, the house he had only told you about. It was the spitting image of his childhood home but with a few modifications and it brought a fresh wave of tears. He snapped the reigns on the horse slightly to move closer to the home, dismounting and walking up the stone carved path. As he reached the door, his hand began to shake along with his entire body, the tears now dripping from his cheeks onto the ground.

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

“Then that’s where we’ll live!”

Cullen laughed, “The materials needed to make a house like that do not even exist anymore, they were lost in the last Blight.”

“Doesn’t matter, if it makes you happy, then I’ll find them, even if I have to dig miles into the ground,” you said with determination.

Cullen looked at you with adoration in his eyes, “You make me the happiest man on this planet, Y/N.”

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

“Damn it,” Cullen whispered, his voice cracking as his entire body shivered with the weight of his emotions.

After a few minutes, Cullen mustered up the strength he needed to open the door, walking into the foyer and immediately catching the faint smell of you. As he took the house in, he walked into the living room to see a piece of paper on the dining table. Rushing over, he picked it up and wiped the blurriness from his eyes to read properly.

“I told you I would build this house for you. Now, the only way you’re reading this note is if I didn’t throw it away before bringing you here myself so it must mean that I’m dead. I’m so sorry, Cullen, I know I told you that I would always come back to you, but this time, I lied. I love you with all of my heart and know that I will never stop loving you. Please, don’t be sad, live your life in this house, make a family. Knowing that I can leave this behind for you to be happy is all that I need. Goodbye, my love.”

The paper began to droop in his hands as his tears made the material soft, his hands were quaking and he couldn’t hold in his sobs. His back hit the wall and he slid down with the paper lodged in his hands, the necklace you gave him around his neck as he renounced you.

“I don’t want to live a life without you,” he wailed into the empty room, “I don’t want to have a family if you aren’t here by my side.” He felt like he was being ripped in half, his love for you and his grief overbearing while his anger at you breaking your promise had his lip curling up, “A world without you is a dark and cold one, my heart.”

“Don’t cry my love, know that I will always be here with you.”

Cullen’s eyes widened as he shot up from the ground, “Y/N?! Is that you? Where are you?”

“Turn around.”

His body instinctively turned before he could even think to, seeing the faint image of the love of his life staring at him, “H-how?”

You smiled, “Are you forgetting that I had the anchor? While my power dwindles, I only have a few moments on this side of the fade.”

“No, no, please don’t leave me again!” Cullen pleaded, moving closer to you.

“My love, please, take this house as my last gift to you, and use it to live out the rest of your life. Find someone to share your life with-”

“NO!” Cullen shouted. “I cannot be with anyone else!” the tears from his eyes seemed endless as he pleaded with you.

You sighed, defeated and heartbroken, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I broke my promise to you. I love you, my heart.”

Cullen was helpless as he watched you fade away, the room once again empty.

“I love you too, my love,” was the last thing heard in the room before Cullen had once again fallen to the ground.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole @downanddirtydean @flashxspn @zooaliaa @huffle-pissed

#dai #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen #cullen rutherford #dragon age fanfiction #cullen rutherford x reader #gender neutral #reader #reader insert #cullen x reader #fluff #angst #cullen fanfiction #oneshot

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rahleeyah · 3 years

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Hi! I want to tell you I am in awe of your writing. It’s powerful and moving and so true to characters. I’m always curious…what is your writing “process?” If you don’t mind me asking!

Oh this is a great question!!! We haven't had a writing question in a while.

My process is not something I usually think about; when I first saw this question I was about to say something like mostly what I do is I just sit very still and let the words come out. And that's true but not fair; that's only one piece of the puzzle.

The first piece is routine. I write at the same time every day. Weekdays it's first thing when I come home from work, weekends it's first thing when I wake up. Always the same time, always sitting in the same place - on my porch, away from distractions, with fresh air and a glass of water and some smokes. That last part is not recommended.

It is hard to write if I miss a few days. One day is fine, but if I go more than 2-3 (which I don't think I've done since Christmas) I'll be out of step and it'll take a while to get back in the groove. So that's the practical part, is I've got a time and space set aside to write and that makes it easier.

The next piece I guess is where the ideas come from. I rewatch a lot. I find watching helps me keep the character voices, but it also helps me make new connections or find new moments to explore. I'll post thoughts here or share them with friends and the back and forth helps flesh things a lot. Most of the time an idea for a story is like a lightning strike; it feels as if it's come out of nowhere. But it isn't completely organic; I spend a lot of time thinking about ideas. In the shower, in the car, before bed, in snippets on tumblr. You have to cultivate the idea generating part of your brain. Sometimes I'll play with a story in my head for weeks and it won't go anywhere; sometimes the whole thing just appears fully formed in my brain like Jesus air dropped it to me. But you gotta be open to the spirit before the spirit can move you, you know?

So we have a place to write and we have an idea, how do we make a story?

A story is like a road. It is going from point A to point B and we gotta lay the pavers to get there. A story like hov is easy; it's set in canon so there's episodes to draw from, and there's a clear linear progression from not pregnant to pregnant to baby. There's a time frame and there's built in milestones. Something like let's take long way down, madam Jean, for example, is gonna be totally different, bc it isn't set in canon and there is no roadmap to get from strangers to happily ever after.

A lot of the time I don't look at the big picture bc it's overwhelming. It feels insurmountable, if I think about how many chapters it'll take and how much time it'll take. I'm eating this elephant one bite at a time, just like my mama said. So we write the first scene. The first paver that goes down is the Problem.

Not to be all freshman English class but every story is centered on conflict. Those conflicts can be anything; it doesn't have to be a "fight", an actual literally good guy vs bad guy. It just has to be an issue. Liv is pregnant but Elliot is her partner and they're not supposed to sleep together. Lucien works for the police but he's intrigued by the local madam. Eli doesn't know who Liv is and he's worried about his dad. Bernie Stabler shows up unannounced. All of these are Problems.

Once we have a Problem, we can start working on the Solution. We do this one step at a time. We do not rush.

So every day, I read over the last chapter I wrote. Where are we, what's happened, what are the Conflicts, what is the next logical step? How do we address it in one scene?

Lucien saw the madam, and she asked him to look after a pregnant girl. Ok now he has to go back to the brothel in the next chapter. That moves the timeline forward and moves us closer to the end goal, bc while Lucien is looking after the girl he talks to Jean, and we plant the seeds of them falling in love. It also gives us one piece of action to work on, one moment in time to write. I sit down, I write Lucien going to the brothel, I write him examining the girl and talking to Jean, boom there's one scene we're done. We tie those two things together; logical progression of Plot events, and the emotional undercurrent. I like it best when a chapter has both.

Themes come out naturally most of the time. Matrilineal, for example, was just me sitting down to write about Bernie and I used Amanda bc I love an outside pov. But as I was writing I'm thinking you know, Amanda has a complicated relationship with her mom. Shit, so does Liv. And they're both mothers now. And so is Bernie. And the emotional threads come out naturally as a result of who these people are. The piece wasn't gonna be about mothers but then it became obvious that it had to be.

Motifs appear the same way. The first chapter of bury my heart, I used this is love. That wasn't originally intentional, but when I did it the second time I thought there it is, and kept using it, and that's where the gut punch of the final line comes from; the meaning has changed from joy to sorrow and it is only impactful bc of the repetition and our previous connection to it.

I use a lot of imagery, and a lot of it tends to be religious - Jean is very Catholic, and so is Elliot, so for both Blake and svu there's room to play with it there. I like similes, I like metaphors, I like synecdoche - there's a fun one. I like to play with putting words together in different ways but that stuff doesn't happen in the car, or the shower, or on my lunch break; that usually only happens when I'm writing. I have to sit down and be still and let my brain go.

Conflict, themes, motifs, images, characters, these are the ingredients that make a story. And the more you work with them the easier they come. It just takes practice. But one of the best ways to improve is to read. See what's possible. See how other people have put words together. Someone commented once about how sometimes I say a lot with very few words; that is something I picked up from two very different places. Stephen King is great about short, simple, powerful sentences that knock your socks off. And there's a recurring line in my favorite series, the Belgariad, where when things are bad the man character goes to his aunt, who has raised him since he was a baby and is essentially his mother, and she holds him, and everything was all right again. It is a simple, repeated phrase about love, and comfort, and how no matter how terrifying the world can be, love brings healing and hope. There are quotes scattered throughout my work. Olivia quotes Heraclitus to herself in bury my heart; yes I am a classics major but my connection to that quote comes from the film the emperor's club. Inspiration is everywhere; draw on all of it.

This is. Probably more information than you were looking for but once I got started I couldn't stop.

#anonymous

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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years

Text

Autistic Hiccup x ADHD Anna Headcanons

SO I’ve been really into the whole Autistic x ADHD ship dynamic and Hiccanna...highkey fits??? Like y’all know I will die on my “Anna has ADHD” hill, but after reading this post by @hobie-brown I’m like wait, the autistic Hiccup headcanon is wonderful too??? And blends SO WELL with ADHD Anna??? And I absolutely HAD to explore it more so BOOM headcanon time! Another special thanks to @hobie-brown for writing the super lovely autistic Hiccup headcanon masterpost that inspired me to do this!

Disclaimer: I myself am not on the spectrum (part of the reason I’ve always felt a little weird about definitively HCing characters as autistic unless I see actual autistic people HC them that way too), so most of the stuff here is stuff I know secondhand from my autistic friends! I do have ADHD, so I can always promise that ADHD Anna will be 100% authentic XD

~Anna absolutely gets into Hiccup’s special interests to try and impress him. The most obvious one being, of course, dragons, but also dinosaurs (extinct dragons), lizards (tiny dragons), and Dungeons and Dragons (An RPG game that does, in fact, include dragons). Hiccup absolutely had that dragonology book as a kid and got obsessed with it beyond all reasonability. Hilariously, Anna’s wooing strategy of indulging his special interests works like a charm--mainly because a) he’s pretty flattered that someone takes THAT much of an interest in what he likes and b) half the time, ANNA finds that she genuinely gets into whatever said special interest is and finds them easy to hyperfixate on. It helps that the more she obsesses over it herself, the more she has to talk to Hiccup about XD

~Specifically, Anna definitely joins a DnD campaign at some point so that Hiccup will think she’s a “cool gamer girl”--and then gets unironically obsessed with it and starts writing 10-page backstories for all of her characters. She later tells Hiccup it started out as a ruse to win his heart via nerdiness, and he absolutely loses his shit laughing.

~One of their overlapping special interests/hyperfixations is high fantasy. Hiccup is, unsurprisingly, all about the mythical creatures while Anna is more into the magic and the zesty political drama, but you dun best believe they catch every CGI-ridden fantasy movie that ever comes out. They’ve both spent a literal fortune on fantasy movie tickets, even moreso on watching them in 3D or Imax. How embarrassing for both of them.

~Another less-obvious overlapping interest is history. Hiccup gets into it while looking into the cultural mythos of dragons (he’s pretty fascinated by the fact that so many cultures around the world thought up similar creatures independently), while Anna gets into it because she grew up cooped up bored and lonely in a big house, and entertained herself by looking into the history behind some of the family paintings. They don’t seem it at first, but they’re actually both huge medieval and ancient civilization history buffs.

~Hiccup is THE most touch-repulsed person you will ever meet. This is unfortunate, as he is also SUPER touch-starved and absolutely does not realize it (I mean, I’ve never gotten the vibe Stoic was the super huggy type, considering his and Hicc’s relationship in HTTYD 1). This means he has absolutely no fucking clue what to make of Anna when they first meet meet. Anna’s the sort of person to give physical affection pretty freely, especially if she likes you--usually in the form of hugs, arm pats or playful swats, putting her elbow on your shoulder, etc etc. Hiccup is kinda just like “this is way too much touching but like??? I kinda like having her this close to me??? What do???”

~Anna, meanwhile, notices that Hiccup kinda stiffens up whenever she touches him and seems to not be crazy about it and she’s just immediately like “yo what’s wrong???” And as SOON as he admits he’s not all that crazy about being touched randomly she’s like “OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY” and never touches him without asking again.

~As soon as she finds out touch a kind of A Whole Thing for him, Anna is like...AGGRESSIVELY respectful of Hiccup’s boundaries when it comes to physical affection. Almost annoyingly so. She gets in the habit of basically never initiating any kind of physical touch without asking first--even long after they’ve started dating, and he’s told her it’s okay to initiate touching as long as she’s not smothery about it. She still refuses out of principle.

~They come up with a kind of “consent language” so Anna can pretty quickly determine when it’s all right to touch Hiccup--because Anna still really likes being physically affectionate with him, and he does actually like receiving physical affection a lot of the time (because, again, touch-starved), he’s just choosy about who does it. They work out a system based off of small, light touches that Hiccup doesn’t mind where it’s basically 2 taps on his shoulder for “can I hug you around the neck,” 2 taps on his side for “can I hug you around the waist,” 2 taps on his arm for “can I grab/lightly slap/punch your arm,” and 1 tap on is shoulder for “can I put my arm/elbow on your shoulder.” If he’s cool with it he’ll either nod or just say “yeah go ahead.” It works a lot quicker than asking “can I do such-and-such specific touch” every single time, and allows Anna to keep some of her spontaneity. They develop this during their friendship and it ends up rolling over into their relationship, even after Hiccup has basically told her she doesn’t need to ask permission for a lot of these anymore. She adds a new one after they start dating--she taps him a couple times wherever she wants to kiss him to ask if it’s cool to give him a smooch! It usually is.

~INFODUMPING. Literally SO. MUCH. INFODUMPING. Hiccup absolutely WILL NOT SHUT UP when he gets to talking about one of his special interests. Anna just will not shut up in general, but when the topic changes to one of her hyperfixations, it’s even worse. If you try to have a conversation with these two while they’re infodumping, you WILL get talked over. Honestly, left to their own devices, they could probably infodump to each other for literal days on end.

~Despite how much they both like to infodump, they’re both pretty good about being patient and indulging the other when it’s their partner’s turn to infodump in the conversation XD They are, however, notorious about accidentally triggering a barely-related infodump in the other person. It’s not uncommon for one of them to finish a rant and then the other goes “OH THAT REMINDS ME” and sets off on a completely different, barely-related rant.

~Hiccup actually really appreciates how overexpressive--and occasionally overdramatic--Anna tends to be. He never has to try and figure out what she’s thinking because she just says everything in her brain, and her body language basically always matches how she’s feeling to a ridiculous extent, so he never has to give himself a headache trying to read her. The fact that she’s the opposite of subtle and has no filter whatsoever works great for him, because he doesn’t have to drive himself insane trying to understand her. He gets her better than he gets most people because she’s an open goddamn book. The boy’s never been the best with social cues at all, never mind the nuanced, obscure ones, so Anna’s general straightforwardness and utter inability to hide her true feelings at literally any time is a breath of fresh air. What you see is basically what you get, and Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.

~People think when Anna and Hiccup start dating it’s gonna be a disaster, mainly because he’s so blunt and she can be...”oversensitive” (i.e. has a REALLY bad case of RSD). Turns out they’re dead wrong--because Hiccup has RSD too! (I mean, come ON--look how BADLY he wants to get his village’s approval! And how hard he takes it when his dad or someone else is mad at him--even if he tries to hide it with snark) He’s actually one of the few people who can be blunt enough with Anna that she realizes when she’s being a dumbass but tactful enough not to hurt her feelings or set off her RSD--because god, has he been there. When Anna is being especially difficult and has worked herself into a real bad funk, Hiccup (and sometimes Elsa) is the only people who can talk to her and get through to her without getting blown up at.

~They stim in similar ways!!! They both tend to fidget or kinda bounce up in down in place as a way to comfort themselves and calm themselves down (I see them both having a lot of anxiety and generally being kind of paranoid, although Anna is MUCH better at hiding this via putting on a cheerful face). They both do the leg bounce!!! Also if they get SUPER excited they’ll do a little awkward happy dance!!! They both also tend to stim by rubbing things in small, repetitive motions--with Hiccup, it’s usually his sketching pens, his ear, his head, or the back of his neck, while with Anna, it’s usually her other hand, her arm, her clothes, or really anything with kind of a comforting, consistent texture (some favorites are rubber, felt, and velvet). After they start dating, they actually will stim with each other’s hands while holding hands--usually by squeezing the other person’s hand in kind of a repetitive pattern or doing the thumb-rub thing on the back of the other person’s hand. It’s not uncommon for them to each be doing something completely unrelated while holding hands and just stimming on each other’s hands the entire time. Anna especially really loves when she feels Hiccup stimming on her, because it’s her little indicator that he’s happy and feels at peace and content in her presence and she LOVES being able to do that for him!

~They both stim by playing with hair too! Anna likes to play with her own to stim--mainly by figeting with the end of her braids or tucking hair behind her ear. She DOES love to ruffle Hiccup’s hair too (and she LOVES how fluffy it is!), but it’s usually not a stim thing. After they start dating, Anna does occasionally stim by massaging Hiccup’s hair/scalp, but she doesn’t usually do it for very long. Hiccup really loves braiding Anna’s hair, or just playing with it when it’s down. it helps him relax and clear his mind to have something fairly repetitive and/or mindless to do.

~Even after gaining some confidence, Hiccup still has a fair bit of social anxiety, so he and Anna basically always go to parties and social events together and stick with each other the whole time to make it less intimidating for him. Hiccup generally prefers to let Anna do the talking when they chat with people, and sometimes if he’s REALLY nervous he’ll sometimes even let her kinda talk for him (not in a condescending “speaking over” kinda way, but more in like a “I can sense you’re not comfortable speaking here so I’ll help you out as best I can” kinda way). She always makes sure to leave space in the conversation for him to take over talking if he wants. She’s also incredibly prone to bragging about his accomplishments to basically everyone they know. Hiccup is both embarrassed and flattered by this.

~When Anna finds out about meltdowns (probably through Hiccup mentioning it kind of offhandedly--“Eh, sorry I went AWOL last night, I was having a bit of a meltdown. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine now.”) she lowkey gets super anxious and frustrated because she REALLY wants to help, but has no idea how. Cue literal HOURS of research on the internet and AGGRESSIVE memorizing of any and all tips that she reads that she thinks would help. Which, of course, means several MORE hours spent going over flashcards like she’s studying for a goddamn test, because Anna has never been known for her sharp, expansive memory.

~The first time Hiccup ever has a meltdown in front of her (maybe after a really bad phone fight with his dad or something? Just general sensory overload?), she takes him to a secluded room and IMMEDIATELY gets rid of anything that could be agitating sensory-wise. She dims the lights! She closes the blinds! She throws a nearby clock, an alarm, a timer, and several other objects with only the slightest potential of making an annoying noise out of a nearby window in a fit of passion! She goes on a frenzied quest to find Hiccup’s noise-cancelling headphones--and finishes it in record time! Even in a state of emotional turmoil, Hiccup realizes that Anna’s being just a little too methodical in how she goes about all this--these are the kind of things that wouldn’t ever occur naturally to her to do. So as soon as he calms down a bit and has screamed into a pillow for a while, he’s like “...did you go on the internet to look up how to help with meltdowns?” and Anna’s like “...yes?” And Hiccup is lowkey so touched he starts crying all over again...and then, naturally, makes a long string of snarky comments to try and distract from it XD

~For their anniversary Anna saves up a bunch and buys Hiccup a lizard and a terrarium!!! She gets him a crocodile skink because, I quote, “Well, they always look annoyed, they’re kinda shy, they don’t like to be touched, and they look like tiny dragons, so they reminded me of you!!!” Hiccup screams like a goddamn fangirl, he’s SO excited. As luck would have it, Hiccup’s crocodile skink is a lot less skittish and prone to hiding than they usually are, and he actually lets Hiccup pick him up and pet him without much issue. Which is honestly great, because repeatedly touching something smooth and even like lizard scales helps calm Hiccup down when he’s agitated and helps with some of his sensory issues.

~Probably goes without saying, but Hiccup basically NEVER genuinely gives Anna a hard time about her memory problems or how she’s not always the quickest on the uptake, and if anyone tries to call her annoying, dumb, or immature he will absolutely roast them into oblivion. He does sometimes like...lightly tease her about jumping into things without thinking or never shutting up, but he never pushes it if he can tell she’s genuinely bothered by it (and, again, Anna is very easy to read, so it’s not hard to tell XD)

~I’ve seen other people in the fandom HC either Hiccup, Anna, or both of them as BOTH autistic and ADHD, and honestly...fuck yes!!! I’m down for this too! I love the idea of these two disaster ND kids just vibing with each other on so many damn levels that it’s like...incomprehensible to the average human XD Like man, they fuckin GET each other!!! I’m pretty happy with most combinations of ADHD + Autistic headcanons for Anna and Hiccup, so long as they end up vibing!!!

~THEY JUST. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. SO MUCH. THEY LITERALLY WOULD DIE FOR EACH OTHER. I AM SURE OF IT. I’M CRYING.

#hiccanna #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #hiccup #anna #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #autistic hiccup #adhd anna #headcanons #hcs #httyd #frozen #crossover #rotbtd #rotbtfd #hiccup haddock #princess anna

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babygirl06301 · 3 years

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When Did Dean Fall In Love With Cas?

tl;dr: S11

I’ve wanted to talk about this since the show ended and the Spanish dub that broke Tumblr came out. So, when did Dean Winchester fall in love with Castiel?

This is entirely my opinion of course, and I know there are some people that will say it was right away or that it never happened at all, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there so other people could tell me their thoughts, too. I’ll probably get off on some tangents here and there, so feel free to send me any Destiel thoughts you’ve got.

Also, it’s worth noting that, to me, there’s a difference between falling in love and actually being in love. I mean, if you’ve fallen in love with someone, every point in your relationship has been a stepping stone to that point, so I guess it’s all abstract, but still. Hence, S11 being my answer to this question.

Keep in mind I’m doing this without the benefit of a recent rewatch, so I may miss some behaviors from Dean that would change a few things.

Warning: sappy stuff ahead; read at your own risk (also crappy images).

S4-5

I don’t think it’s that big of a secret that Dean attached himself to Cas, like, right away. I mean, the dude never talks about his emotions, and yet, it took eight episodes of Cas being around for Dean to break down in front of him and talk about his fears. It’s almost like you could say that’s because they were always meant to fall for each other.

However, I don’t really the think the process of falling in love with Cas had started yet. I do think that Dean cared about Cas, but I don’t think it was anything extremely special. Reason being: it was the literal end times and Dean didn’t have that type of time. That, and I think there’s something to be said for being raised a certain way and believing certain things about yourself that affects how long it takes for you to notice that something has changed. So, yeah. I don’t think Cas had been around long enough at this point for Dean to start feeling anything more than kinship with him.

That’s not to say, though, that Dean didn’t subconsciously find Cas hot or get the warm fuzzies sometimes because:

I mean, come on.

S6-7

So, this era is weird because I do think something had begun to change in how Dean saw Cas, but I don’t think he got to fully begin the process of falling in love with him because: a.) Cas betrayed them and b.) Sam’s head was broken.

I’m gonna say something rude now: I think a lot of the Destiel moments in the beginning of S6 were born of Dean needing Castiel’s abilities as an angel and not of needing Cas. For example, Dean calling on Cas to help with the Staff of Moses or with Soulless!Sam. He was usually pretty demanding and sometimes curt with Cas and got irritable when Cas couldn’t help.

However, I think that Cas always being there despite his battle in Heaven began to shift Dean’s feelings toward him. I do think this change was almost imperceptible, but you can see Dean showing more and more concern for Cas as S6 progresses. Like this:

This is the primary reason I think Dean got so defensive of Cas when Bobby and Sam started suggesting that Cas was working with Crowley. It’s also why he got so hurt when he found out that Bobby and Sam were right.

Here’s my super abstract and vague take on it: he’d started feeling romantic emotions for Cas, but as soon as Cas’s betrayal was revealed, it got replaced with pain. Basically, Dean almost started to fall for Cas in S6, and then the Purgatory storyline interrupted it.

And then Cas died. Which didn’t help.

Here we enter S7, which has fuck all for Destiel content beyond the first two episodes—until Cas comes back. I know some people are going to say not to gloss over the trench coat thing, and fair enough. I think the keeping of the trench coat was akin to Dean trying to hold onto what he did feel for Cas, obviously not consciously. Almost as though Dean could tell he’d lost something special when Cas died, and not just in losing Cas, but in losing part of himself, a part that he didn’t know existed yet. I don’t consider the trench coat to be a sign that Dean was falling in love with Cas but a sign that he was about to or that he could’ve. Is that weak? Whatever.

Now, I do think that some shit got shaken loose when Dean saw Cas again because, for all intents and purposes, he should’ve been pissed. But instead he was... whatever this is:

I still, more or less, think that he was too preoccupied with Sam to really begin falling in love with Cas. I think that’s clear to see in how he treated Cas after he came back into the story for the final battle with the Leviathan. He did give the whole “I’d rather have you” speech, but all the stuff before that was more along the lines of “Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas! Clean up your mess!” So, yeah.

Okay, so this is where the Purgatory stuff comes in. In the words of the great John Mulaney, “we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” but this is where I believe Dean started falling in love with Cas.

Dean told Sam that Purgatory felt pure because he could only focus on the fight at all times... but he still had the emotional availability to worry about and search for Cas, so...

If I had to pick an exact moment, I’d say somewhere around here:

And thus, rather than just keeping a trench coat when he lost Cas, Dean literally rewired his own memories because he would rather think that he left Cas behind than think that Castiel chose to leave him.

From here, we can start seeing Dean paying attention to Cas more, noticing when he’s not being himself, and more than that, worrying about him in a more personal way. For instance, when Dean insists that Cas talk to him about what’s bothering him in “Hunteri Heroici.” Not to mention, Dean becomes a lot more emotionally vulnerable regarding his feelings for Cas. One example would be when he insists that he didn’t abandon Cas in Purgatory. Another would be, of course:

I would also mark this season as the season Dean’s prayers to Cas become more emotional and, at times, cathartic, as though he’s confiding in Cas. In “Remember the Titans,” for example, Dean prays to Cas to ask him to look out for Sam; the scene reads like Dean is asking for help but is, in equal measure, asking for Cas. This is also the first season an adversary pokes at Dean and Cas’s relationship in a way that specifically targets Dean and his feelings about Cas rather than Cas’s feelings about Dean as it had been before; this would be when Naomi says “You’re hoping Castiel will return to you.”

S9-S10

Well, these seasons are complicated to say the least because of Gadreel and the Mark of Cain. I don’t think, at this point, Dean ever stops feeling what he’s feeling for Cas. However, I do think that a lot of the hiccups throughout S9 and S10 made Dean step away from those feelings.

Of course, Dean is still stressing about Cas 24/7 in the beginning of S9 what with Cas being human, Cas being hunted, Cas dying, Cas working at a Gas-n-Sip—you know, drama. I think when Gadreel said that Cas needed to stay away if Dean wanted Sam to be healed, Dean had to let what he was feeling for Cas go—not that that means he stopped feeling it, mind you. No, I don’t think Dean consciously went, “Well, guess I’m done falling for this dude,” but I think he knew somewhere in his heart that it wasn’t the time.

Now, the Mark of Cain. The storyline that put the characters down on the page once and left them stagnant and unchanging until it was resolved. Now, as you might imagine, slowly turning into a demon that wants nothing but death would put a damper on any relationship. Finding Destiel in the B season for S9 and throughout S10 is hard. Especially on Dean’s end.

There are moments when you can tell that Dean’s feelings for Cas are still there, and I would say, developing slowly, like the cheeseburger date. Probably the biggest Destiel moment in the entire Mark of Cain stretch is when Dean nearly kills Cas but resists, despite the Mark’s hold on him.

That’s really it, though. No backwards movement, but barely anything trending the opposite way, either.

S11

This is the Big Season™, the one I believe Dean fell in love with Cas in. Now, obviously, it isn’t like Dean lost the Mark, and boom, fell in love with Cas. Plus, there’s the whole pull-to-Amara thing. However, I don’t think falling in love necessarily has to be a big moment; I think it can just happen, and I think that’s what happened with Dean. At some point between the start of this season and Cas being released from Lucifer’s possession, Dean fell in love with Cas.

That being said—if I was really reaching for a moment—I wouldn’t say it happened during a happy scene. I’d say Dean fell in love with Cas when he lost him.

I know that sounds weird, that Dean didn’t fall in love with Cas completely until he realized Cas had been possessed by Lucifer, but in my head, it fits. I think it’s because Dean is so emotionally closed off and tries not to let his emotions show if he can help it that it took knowing that Cas was gone for that last switch to flip in his heart.

So, now Dean is in love with Cas, but Cas is Lucifer. I’d say this has something to do with the fact that, even though Dean is supposed to be attached to Amara, he still calls out for Cas even though Amara is right in front of him.

Considering the fact that Cas comes back in the literal last episode—at least, that’s when Dean realizes he’s back—there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of time to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. We do get the “you’re our brother, Cas” scene, but seeing as how that’s pretty inconsistent with everything that comes afterward, let’s just chalk that one up to bad writing and/or Dean being dense.

S12

Alright, so my post should be done, yeah? I’ve answered the question I’ve set out to answer. However, there’s still more to talk about here. When did Dean first sense that what he felt for Cas was different? When did he have an inclination that it was romantic? When did he know for sure?

That’s why we’re here in S12. Now, S12 is the most Destiel-heavy season in the entire series. In my opinion, while it does have many of the best Destiel scenes, it doesn’t have the best Destiel scene. However, as far as number of moments, S12 takes it.

This is where we really get to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. Realistically, I think this has a lot to do with S12 being the beginning of the Dabb era because this era marked a change in tone for both Castiel’s character and his relationship with Dean. Dean began to worry about Cas a lot more frequently and, as a result, got mad at him a lot more, too. I see S12 as the season that Dean moved away from simply being worried about losing Cas to being terrified of losing Cas. And that translated into anger any time Castiel put himself in danger. For example, killing Billie. Any other time, the threat of losing Cas translated itself into fear, like when Cas nearly died from being stabbed with the Lance of Michael.

Of course, the mixtape is also in this season, which is another example of how being in love with Cas has affected Dean. I could probably make an entirely seperate and very long post regarding Destiel in S12, but the general idea is that Dean’s newly found love for Cas made a big difference in how he treated Cas.

S13

Alright, S13 stands outs to me because I believe this is when Dean first realized that Cas meant something more to him than a friend and that he felt differently about him than he did about his family. Again, I don’t think that Dean actually thought those exact words, but I think his heart knew them to be true even if he mind didn’t. Reason being: Cas had just died. Which is the first time Castiel has died since Dean fell in love with him. Dean knew he needed Cas, in a way he hadn’t really realized it before. Which is why he demands that Chuck bring him back.

Then Cas comes back, and it’s like Dean forgets what hopelessness and misery are because Cas is his “big win.” After this, honestly, there isn’t much else by way of emotional development for Dean regarding Cas, but I see that as a good thing. It’s a sign that, though Dean hasn’t realized it yet, being in love with Cas is comfortable for him. There are still expressions of concern for Cas’s wellbeing throughout the season, but mostly, we just get to see Dean be content with Cas.

S14

Alright, S14 a.) mostly saw Dean’s feelings much in the same place as they were in S13 and b.) just kidding because Dean tells Cas that he’s dead to him in this season.

To be fair, if we’re talking Destiel, there’s more of it on Castiel’s end this season than there is on Dean’s because Dean is dealing with Michael. There are a couple moments that stand out to me as moments where Dean’s love for Cas comes through: when Cas asks Dean if his plan to trap himself in the Ma’lak Box means that they’re supposed to say goodbye and when Dean confides in Cas about how he’s handling keeping Michael trapped. In the former scene especially, I think it’s clear to see how much the idea of saying goodbye to Cas affects Dean.

And then we get to “Absence,” which is the episode where Dean tells Cas that he’ll be dead to him if Jack killed Mary. Now, going off on a tangent here to explain how this ties into Dean being in love with Cas, let’s talk about when Dean gets mad at Cas.

When Dean gets mad at Castiel, it’s always out of pain. I think that’s a very unique effect that Cas has on Dean that no one else does, and I believe it’s because Dean gets so overwhelmed with the emotion of betrayal that all he can do is push Cas away. Why a feeling of betrayal? Well, in this case, it’s because Cas knew something was wrong with Jack and didn’t say anything. I think that, as Dean fell more and more in love with Cas, his expectations and feelings for him grew, and because of that, when he feels like he’s been let down by Cas, it turns into rage.

When Dean walks away from Sam, it’s usually because he’s either worried or angry. With Jack, he walked away because of anger, maybe even disgust. But with Cas, it’s always pain; it’s always because Dean feels like he’s been personally betrayed in a way that has nothing to do with worrying about Cas and everything to do with wanting to hurt Cas back. It’s almost a selfish sort of anger, which is actually a positive for Dean’s character since he rarely puts himself first.

To me, the way Dean gets mad at Cas—especially in S14—is so personal and unique that it serves as proof as to why Dean is in love with Cas. So, even though the “then you’re dead to me” line is so damaging, it’s still a result of Dean loving Cas.

S15

Last season. The hardest season by far, for a lot of reasons. I’m not going to get into the lack of closure the ending of this show gave us in terms of Dean and Castiel, and I’m not going to talk about this final season in conjunction with the Spanish dub—just what I, as an English speaker experienced in canon since that’s what was intended in the final cut—but I will talk about everything else. There’s three episodes/points I’m going to hit with this season, and I’m sure we all know them: “The Rupture,” “The Trap,” and “Despair.”

I’ve already discussed why Dean’s anger points to his being in love with Cas, but I think the important thing to note with “The Rupture” is that Dean still didn’t want to lose Cas, even in the moments when he was hurting Cas and pushing him away.

There’s still a couple questions I’ve asked that I haven’t answered yet, and one of them will be answered with “The Trap.” I think this episode—and really, the moment Cas told him he heard his prayer—marks the first time that Dean considered that his feelings might be romantic. I don’t know how clear those thoughts were or if Dean told himself he was wrong afterward, but I do think that that scene was the beginning of possibility for Dean and Cas. Had they had enough time, they would’ve decided to be together, and that scene is where they both really felt it for the first time—even if they didn’t believe the other felt the same way.

I’ll be honest: I really don’t want to talk about “Despair” because it’ll just make me sad. Alas, there is one question that still needs to be answered: When did Dean know that he was in love with Cas?

When it was already too late. Much like in S11, I think it took Dean losing Cas to realize how he felt about him. The difference here is: I think Dean would’ve realized it regardless; hearing how Cas felt about him and then losing Cas just forced it. Had Cas not died, I don’t believe it would’ve been too long before Dean realized it naturally, and that’s the most frustrating thing about this scene is that Dean didn’t have to learn how he felt through the trauma of losing Cas.

I’m not trying to diminish this scene because, had there been closure—and proper editing—I’d say this scene was the perfect avenue for Castiel’s character to go down because it would mean that, when he came back, he could be with Dean.

Again, I’m not getting into the semantics of the final couple episodes or how they handled Destiel because it’ll just make me mad, but I think Dean realizing he was in love with Cas was just as big of a factor in him seeing himself differently as Cas’s speech was. I think Dean wanted to honor Cas by being the person Castiel saw him as; I think Dean wanted to live as a man worthy of being loved by the man he fell in love with.

Anyway, that’s my take on when Dean Winchester fell in love with Castiel based on what canon gave us. As someone who had been very realistic about the possibility of Destiel over the years and had never truly hoped for it in canon because I knew better, I have never been more convinced that Dean is in love with Castiel as I am now, after the show has ended.

I don’t think I can say I believe he was in love with him all along, but I believe that his story, their story, of falling in love is real and true, however long it may have taken. I’ll never say goodbye to these two, but I’m happy that I can at least walk away from this show knowing that they found each other in the end, even if their ending didn’t do justice to their legacy.

Let me know when you think Dean fell in love Cas or vise versa. I’m curious to know what you see in their relationship. I don’t think I’ll be making a post like this for Castiel because, in my opinion, Cas fell in love with Dean rather quickly—his journey was just realizing what that meant. Anyway, thank you for reading this, and thank you for being a part of this twelve year long love story that is Destiel.

#destiel #casdean #cas x dean #dean x cas #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural

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