#// I wish they showed up more besides the backstage pass and those few shorts

[madiomens]

Just Pretend [n.s.]

Chapter Seventeen

Bryan started some shit.

My phone started blowing up and I looked at it in confusion, opening Instagram to see he made a post and tagged me in it. A few snaps of us setting up the stage and the guys doing soundcheck were on it. One of me laughing at Folio holding up his broken drumstick made me grin before sliding to the next one that has broken the internet. The Birds Eye view picture Bryan took of us all laying on the stage popped up. Noah's arm was across my shoulders and my leg was tangled with his, grins on our faces. The other guys were laid around us too, but obviously that's not what the fans were paying attention to. I chewed on my lip to stifle the smile that threatened to slide onto my face, knowing the explosion from fans that's more than likely to happen at the show tonight.

The guys walked backstage from VIP and their eyes landed on me, confusion sliding onto them. "Look at Bryan's post." I said with a slight chuckle.

"Did he break the internet again?" Nicholas questioned as they pulled out their phones.

They looked at their screens and scrolled a couple times before Jolly broke out into a laugh. "Oh, he's done it this time."

"I'm sure he knows what he's doing." I said with a laugh. "Time for me to get flooded with jealous girls."

Noah walked up to me and pinched my nose, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "They just wish they were you."

"Yea, they want to make that porno with Noah you two made earlier." Nicholas said, causing me to smack my hand over my face as Noah let out a cackle.

"Not on some weird shit but Maddie sounded so pretty." Jolly said before Folio mocked my moans again.

I snorted and smacked his arm, causing him to laugh at me. "Shut up."

"Hey, I was complimenting you!" He exclaimed with a laugh.

Noah wrapped his arm across my shoulders. "You should be complimenting me."

I laughed and shoved him off me. "I'm going to check on people." I said through my laughter.

I kissed his shoulder through his sweatshirt before making my way out of the backstage area. Gasps came from the people already lined up at the barricade and they excitedly waved at me. I smiled and waved at them, making my way to the front of the crowd.

"Hi, guys! How is everyone?" I questioned with a smile.

A chorus of "good"'s echoed around me, causing me to smile wider. A girl at the front turned her phone around to face me. I squinted at it, realizing I forgot to put my contacts in, and got closer to see what was on the screen. I stifled a grin that threatened to slide onto my face when my eyes landed on the picture Bryan posted of all of us laying on the stage.

"Are you and Noah dating?" She questioned through her heavy Italian accent.

I chuckled and began opening the case of waters in front of me so I could hide my face. "Just because a guy and a girl are laying close to each other doesn't mean they're dating."

"Yea, but it means you might be if you two look this happy." She said, causing people near us to laugh.

I laughed and passed waters to those who asked for some."Maybe we might just be happy people." I said with a shrug.

"Mmmm, I'm not buying it." She said as she took a sip of water.

I laughed and shook my head before making my way across the barricade to pass out waters to others who were piling in. Bryan walked up beside me, bumping his torso against my shoulder with a grin. I turned to him with squinted eyes.

"Do you know how much questioning I've gotten over the picture you posted? Everyone is asking if Noah and I are together." I said humorously, turning my back to the fans so only he could hear me.

He laughed and turned around so we were both facing the stage. "Well, aren't you?"

"That's beside the point." I said, causing him to laugh harder.

"You didn't say no." He said, wiggling his brows at me.

"He's right, you didn't say no." A fan said from behind us, causing us to spin around to face a short man behind us. "Noah couldn't handle a gorgeous girl like you anyways. You need a real man."

I snorted. "He is a real man. And he handles me fine, thank you."

The fans who were listening gasped before bursting into laughter, making fun of the guy's obvious failed attempt at flirting with me. I looked at Bryan before we burst into laughter ourselves, making our way backstage to see the guys before opening acts went on.

"Yo Noah, some dude out there is trying to steal your girl." Bryan yelled, causing Noah to spin around and look at us confused.

I was still laughing beside Bryan, Noah's face making me laugh harder. "I had to let it slip that we're together to the creep."

Noah laughed and walked up to me, pushing my hair off of my shoulders and resting his hands on either side of my neck. I looked up at him with humor still on my face. "Tell everybody. I want them to know you're mine."

"BLEH." Bryan said beside us, fake gagging.

I laughed and shoved his shoulder as Noah placed a kiss on my cheek, his laughter vibrating against my face.

"Guess I better get used to guys wanting you." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a hug.

I wrapped my arms around his midsection tightly. "I'm the one who should get used to everyone wanting my boyfriend."

He pulled back and looked down at me with a grin. "Boyfriend?"

My cheeks flamed and I pulled back, trying to separate myself and my embarrassment. "I don't mean boyfriend."

He tightened his arms so I was flush against him again, his chuckle vibrating against my face. "I'm joking. Only if I get to call you my girlfriend."

I hid my face so that no one could see the cheesy ass grin that slid onto it. "Gross."

He laughed and pulled back to place a kiss on my lips. "So gross." He said pulling away.

I laughed and pushed away from him. "Go get ready for the stage. I'll be out there."

"I don't know how I'll get through the set without staring at you the entire time." He said, eyes roaming down my body.

I chuckled and sent him a wink as I walked backwards to exit backstage. The crowd cheered and waved when I walked to the front of the barricade. I laughed and waved back at them, looking around to make sure everyone I could see was alright. The venue was colder than the other ones have been and a slight chill ran through my body while I walked in front of the barricade.

"Your man didn't give you a jacket to make you cover up?" The same guy from earlier questioned.

I snorted. "My man doesn't make it a habit to make me cover anything up if I don't want to."

Oooh's sounded out around us as a flash of embarrassment went across his face before he replaced it with a smirk. "See. Too much of a woman for him."

I rolled my eyes as the lights went out, signaling the guys were about to take the stage. I made my way back to the box I sit on, hopping up it. I tried my hardest not to stare at Noah the entire set, reminding myself that I was working just like he was. He made that really damn hard, though. I felt his eyes burning through my face multiple times throughout the show and my body lit up like fire each time. I sent him a few pointed looks when I'd catch him staring at me, causing him to chuckle through the lyrics he was singing.

The show ended after the guys did their encore of 'Dethrone' and I met them backstage after saying bye to the fans at the front. They were hyped up off of adrenaline, Folio running around shirtless and screaming some song at the top of his lungs. The other guys were laughing and jumping around with him, singing along to his very off key vocals. I laughed as I stood beside Bryan in the doorway, watching them having the time of their lives. Noah's eyes landed on me and he took off in a sprint in my direction.

"Noah, no!" I yelled, turning to run away. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, causing a squeal to escape me followed by laughter. "You smell awful." I yelled through my laughter.

"That means you can come shower with me." He said, landing a slap on my ass and turning to walk towards the shower room.

I laughed and smacked his back. "Not a chance. There's a perfectly good shower back at the house that fits more than my thigh inside of it." He groaned and set me down on my feet, causing me to laugh more. "If you hurry, the quicker we can go say hi to fans then get back to that bed."

Noah perked up and rushed into the shower room, slamming the door behind him. I shook my head at the door and went to pack up my bag with the stuff I used to get ready. By the time I finished, Noah was already emerging from the shower room so the other guys could take their turns. He walked over to me, wet towel hung low on his waist, and leaned down to let his wet hair drip all over me. I squealed and pushed against his chest, the cold droplets sliding down my neck through my shirt and sending a chill through my body.

"Stop it!" I yelled through my laughter.

He pulled me tighter to him, the water soaking through my clothes. I reached down between us and undid his towel so that it dropped in my hands. He gasped and pulled back as I broke free to take a few steps backwards. I held the towel up in the air as he used both hands to cover his front, his bare ass on full display for whoever was to walk in the room.

"Maddie, give me the towel back." He said, laughter shaking his words.

I pursed my lips and shook my head. "Mmm, I don't think so."

He tossed his head back with laughter. "Come on, baby, somebody's gonna walk in to my blinding cheeks."

I grinned at the 'baby' and went to toss the towel in his direction. He dropped one hand from his crotch to catch it but I yanked it back from his grasp so he was once again standing stark naked in front of me. The sound of a camera clicking from beside us caused Noah to quickly cover his crotch again, our eyes landing on Bryan. He dropped the camera so we could see his laughing face, body shaking with the laughter.

"Man, I gotta give it to you. Maddie must be a very happy girl." Bryan said through his laughter.

I tossed my head back as my own laughter wracked my body, handing Noah the towel so he could cover himself.

"I'm really about to break the internet now." Bryan said, chuckling as he looked at his camera.

He brought it over to show us. The side of Noah's bare ass and him covering his crotch with his hand came into view. I was holding the towel in the air and laughing with my head back and Noah was looking at me laughing.

Noah laughed as he slipped his underwear on underneath his towel, dropping it so he could pull sweatpants and a hoodie onto his body. The guys joined us as we walked out the back door to greet the fans, excited screams meeting our ears.

"Hey, Maddie." The guy who was harassing me earlier called out.

I sighed and looked up at Noah to see confusion on his face. "That's the guy Bryan was talking about earlier."

He clenched his jaw and inconspicuously rolled his eyes as we walked closer to everyone.

"Hi, guys." I said as Noah greeted people.

"You just had to come see me again, huh?" The guy questioned as he pushed his way between two girls at the front, earning dirty looks from them.

I chuckled and shook my head as I leaned in to smile for a picture with a couple girls.

"You and Noah are really cute." One of them said, sending another dirty look to the rude guy.

He snorted. "Cute doesn't mean he's enough for her."

Noah turned to look at him from down the line of people. "Hey man, watch it."

The guy laughed. "So you two are together? I'd keep her closer if I were you."

Noah smiled apologetically to the girls he was signing an autograph for before making his way down the line to us. "Why do you say that?" He asked, sliding an arm around my waist.

"Because, a girl with curves like she has and dresses like that is asking for attention elsewhere." He said with a smirk.

I looked at Noah in time for his face to go hard and his jaw clench. He removed his arm from my waist to step closer to the guy, towering over him. "What did you just say?" He questioned, earning nervous mutters around us.

"Noah, don't." I said, placing my hand on his back.

"I said," The guy started, bowing up his chest to try and gain an inch of height closer to Noah but still looking up at him. "If she dresses like a whore she's going to be treated like one."

Noah reared his fist back before I caught it in my hand, stepping between him and the guy. "Noah, you are in too much of a spotlight. You can't hit him." I said before turning to face the guy. "But I can."

I reared my fist back and slung it forward hard, connecting with the guys nose. A crack echoed around us as blood instantly poured from his nose. He brought his hands up to cover it, a painful grunt escaping his mouth.

"Maddie!" Noah exclaimed, pulling me backwards.

"You bitch." The guy seethed through his teeth.

Noah waved an apologetic wave to the others as he pulled me backwards away from them. "I think you mean whore!" I yelled at the guy and earning a laugh from Noah.

The rest of the guys were making their way outside as we were walking back in. They looked at us with confused looks, eyes darting between us then my cracked knuckles.

"Shit, Maddie, what the fuck happened?" Folio asked, picking up my hand to look at it.

I burst into laughter, Noah following as the group looked more confused.

"Let's go to the house to get her hand fixed up and we will fill you in."

[panthera-dei]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 12 (Very Late Entry)

Prompts: "Trapped under rubble" / "I can't move my legs."

Fandom: Wings of Fire

Story Info:

Title: "Broken Crown"

Characters: OCs (Links to view images of them can be found below)

Rating: T for canon-typical injuries

No warnings apply

Idiots to lovers, and also idiots who are already lovers (what can I say? Apparently Visionwhisper is a great matchmaker for everyone but herself.)

@whumperless-whump-event

Dragon OCs:

Visionwhisper

Forger

Crown-of-Thorns

Anglerfish

Sleeper Shark

Nightsnake

Story beneath the cut!

“If you liked our razzle-dazzle, my IceWing friends, our dear music-maker Sleeper Shark will be coming around with the magician’s hat. Any amount you can give will be appreciated! We want to keep bringing our shows to dragons across the continent. And please, tell your friends! Write to your acquaintances in the Sand Kingdom and remind them that dragonets below age three get in free!”

Behind the thick velvet curtain, Visionwhisper rolled her eyes. “You were right about Nightsnake making a good master of ceremonies, but I wish he would just stop talking.”

Crown-of-Thorns huffed and wrapped her short, wide wings closer around herself, curling into as small a ball as she could - although, considering that the MudWing hybrid was easily the largest member of the troupe except for Forger, she had limited success. “Who cares what he prattles about? The IceWings are still clapping, and more importantly, parting with some of their gold. Three moons, it's cold out here.”

“Well, it is the border of the Ice Kingdom,” Vision replied, reaching for the mug of steaming cider on the backstage table.

“It's so cold that even if I possessed the ability to breathe fire, I couldn't, do you hear what I’m saying, Viz? It's cold enough to freeze the cloaca off a SkyWing!”

Vision promptly coughed up some of the cider, wincing as a few drops of steaming liquid shot out of her nostrils as well. “Really, Crown?!” Both dragons fell silent and watched as the cider droplets quickly froze to ice. “You know what, you’re right. It is cold out here!”

Vision's quip caused both of them to burst into peals of laughter. Vision took a sip from the mug and passed it to Crown, who took a gulp and sighed in satisfaction before returning it.

“Where’d you find that, Viz? Not enough cinnamon for Anglerfish to have made it.”

Vision clicked her claws together, suddenly very interested in her talons. “Oh, um, just a couple minutes ago, while you were doing the Feat Of Strength bit.”

“Uh, I said where, not when.” Crown narrowed her eyes, unconsciously flashing the bioluminescent patches on her legs. “Spit it out.”

“It was nothing, Forger brought it by earlier, I’m sure he made some for everyone -”

“By all the whales, no wonder you were squirming like a salamander when I brought up SkyWings earlier. Hm. And no, none of the rest of us got any fancyscales drinks,” Crown replied with a little sniff.

Vision felt the scales of her cheeks heating up. “We - um. We should probably see if Angler needs any help loading the wagon.”

“Ah, I see how it is. The only other female dragon in the troupe, and you'd rather make me work than let me enjoy the juicy gossip. I see how it is.”

“There isn't any gossip.”

“But you wish there were?”

“No! I mean - well - but - I -”

“OK, OK, don't kill yourself, Viz. Great kingdoms!” The snowflakes were beginning to stick to Crown’s iridescent brown and magenta scales as she shook her head. “Besides, your reactions are telling me everything I need to know.”

Vision froze, and it had nothing to do with the snow. “You won't say anything?”

Crown rolled her eyes. “And give my boss a stroke? I don't think so. Besides, with you dead - or a sea cucumber - then I would be the only one left to run the place, and you’d better believe I’m not doing all this work by myself. Speaking of which - you’re right, we should help load the wagons, and I’m sure that some of those crates are NightWing size.”

“Hey! I’m not even that small!”

A few minutes later, the wagons were almost entirely packed, the stage had been dismantled, and every tent had been rolled up tight.

“We missed a box,” Vision said. “I’ll get it.”

“I got it,” Anglerfish replied, already stepping towards it as he flexed his forearms.

Crown jumped over, trying to beat him to it. “Allow me!”

“Are they always like this?” Forger whispered to Vision, causing her to jump.

“Don't do that, I didn't even know you were there! … Also, if you're asking if they're always bickering and trying to impress each other? Yeah, pretty much.”

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, followed by an eerie groan and the sound of splintering.

“Look out!” Nightsnake shouted, but it was too late. An enormous chunk of ice broke off from the ridge above the two dragons and hurtled in their direction. Anglerfish leaped out of the way, dropping the box in his scramble, and Crown began to jump after him. Before she could launch herself out of the path of the falling ice, her claws lost purchase on a slippery patch, and she ended up sprawled across the frozen ground as the ice smashed to the earth.

When the spray of snow and ice crystals had subsided, the first sound was Anglerfish bellowing in shock and terror. “Crown!” He plowed into what remained of the ice chunk, hoping to roll it away from her, but her cry of pain stopped him.

“Curse this moons-forsaken kingdom,” Crown whimpered, her body shaking. “I can't move my legs. I'm pinned.”

“Don't panic,” Visionwhisper said. “We’ll get you out of there. Sleeper Shark, you go find an IceWing, see if we can get some help. They must know how to get rid of this. Nightsnake, you keep her warm until we can get her out of there.”

The two dragons nodded, Sleeper Shark breaking away and flying towards the IceWing village while Nightsnake, the hot-blooded SandWing, curled up beside their trapped friend. Crown closed her eyes and nodded to him in thanks.

Forger rubbed his chin with a talon, deep in thought. He knew that he had the power to fix this, all of it, but using his animus magic was too risky, even if it meant saving Crown’s life. He would have to find another way. “If we can't roll the ice away from her without hurting her, perhaps we could melt it.”

Anglerfish shook his head resolutely. “Too dangerous. That could kill her.”

“At worst, she could come away with a few burns. That's better than being trapped in ice. The only dragons who can survive for long here without getting at least a case of frostbite are the IceWings - which none of us are.”

“Let's not lose our heads over this,” Vision interrupted. “You two are talking about worst-case scenarios. Nobody’s going to freeze to death or burn to death yet. Sleeper Shark went to get help… If we're lucky, one of the IceWings can tell us what to do.”

Dissatisfied, the other two dragons nodded.

“Hey, guys?” Nightsnake called.

“Is she OK?” Vision asked as she stepped over to them.

“Not really.” Nightsnake held up his talons - and they were soaked in red. “I think that the ice boulder thing must have cut her up when it hit her. She's losing blood. I think it's pretty fast.”

“No,” Anglerfish whispered.

Vision swallowed hard. “OK, we can't wait for Sleeper Shark and the IceWings. We have to get her out of there now and get a healer to look at that wound.”

“But we can't do it without hurting her worse,” Angler said, his brow creasing in worry.

“I know, and nobody wants to do that, but it's going to be worse if she keeps bleeding like that. We have to move fast. So here's the plan: Forger will melt the ice boulder. Start at the top so the fire is less likely to touch her. Then, Angler, once it's light enough that you can lift it straight up without rolling it, you pick it up and get it away from her. I’ll grab the bandages and be ready to stop the bleeding the best I can. Nightsnake, you keep her awake.”

“I’ll try,” Nightsnake replied, even though the fear was evident in his voice.

Forger nodded. “I’ll need everyone to stand back a bit.”

With surgical precision, the SkyWing hybrid emitted a thin jet of superheated flame that danced across the top of the ice. The hiss of rising steam mingled with the odd sound that preceded SkyWing dragonfire. After mere seconds, almost half of the boulder was liquid, with the remains of the boulder glazed with melting water.

“Stop,” Anglerfish signaled. “Let me try to lift.”

“Careful,” Forger said. “That water could still be hot.”

If Angler felt any burns, he didn't seem to notice or care as he gripped the ice with his talons and hefted it straight up into the air. Carefully, he pivoted and hurled the ice away from them and into a snowbank.

“You did it!” Vision cried, snatching up the bandages and dashing forward.

“Guys! Guys!” Sleeper Shark huffed, dashing into the midst of his friends. “I got an IceWing!”

The snowy white dragon swooped gracefully down and landed beside the SeaWing, tucking her wings against her body and leaning in to see Crown’s wounds. “Well, it looks like you don't need me anymore. What did you do?”

“We melted the ice until it was small enough I could lift it,” Anglerfish replied. “Can you help her? Are you a healer?”

The IceWing shook her head. “Our village doesn't have anyone above the Fifth Circle, and we can't take you further into the Ice Kingdom without the gift of diplomacy. Sorry, but you're on your own. Good luck.” With that, the white dragon flew back towards her village, disappearing into the snowy sky.

“Well, that did us no good!” Anglerfish roared.

“Step aside,” Forger said to Vision quietly. “Does she have any bones broken?”

Vision shook her head. “Not that I can see. I think it's just some lacerations from the sharp edges on the ice. She’ll be OK, once the bleeding stops.”

“Do it,” Crown piped up weakly, wincing in pain. “I know what you're thinking, Forger. Just make it quick.”

Forger nodded. “Stand back.” Slowly, he peeled back the already-soaked bandages.

Vision knew what was coming as soon as she heard that same odd, guttural hiss that always preceded Forger’s fire. She covered her ears, closed her eyes, and stepped away, curling up into a snowdrift.

“Uhhh… What's happening?” Sleeper Shark asked.

“You might want to look away for this,” Nightsnake told the SeaWing brothers, his face wrenched in a look of pity.

Blocking out the sounds of Crown whimpering and her short claws digging into the ice, using the same expert precision and care, Forger exhaled thin yet strong bursts of fire to cauterize each of the wounds.

“It's done,” he said finally. “You still all right?

“A little grossed out, but I’ll live!” Nightsnake quipped.

Despite her ordeal, Crown still had plenty of strength left to swat the SandWing. “Shut up, you!” Then she chuckled. “Downside of being half MudWing and half SeaWing: I can't breathe fire, no matter what temperature I am. But the upside?” She tapped her brown scales, which were already beginning to heal over. “Fireproof scales. I came from a blood egg. Comes in handy, every now and then. Now I just need some mud and I won't have anything to worry about.”

Vision smiled. “Then let's get out of here! What are we waiting for?”

“Guess the wagon’s already packed,” Crown grunted. “Oh wait, it's not.” Dragging herself to her feet, she grabbed the box that Angler had dropped (and which everyone had forgotten) and chucked it onto the last wagon. “There. Gotta do everything myself, don't I?”

Anglerfish wrapped his tail around hers and squeezed her tight. “Don't ever do that to me again.”

“Ouch, get off me, squid-brain!”

Forger scoffed in disbelief. “They really are always like that.”

Vision nodded. “Like nothing ever happened. Unbelievable!”

Forger didn't know what came over him then. He saw the snowflakes sticking to her deep purple scales, and for the first time, he noticed the faint silvery sheen on two teardrop-shaped scales around her eyes, and it was like time seemed to slow around them. Gently, he pressed the side of his snout against hers.

With a quiet giggle, she bumped his snout back. “You're warm.”

He didn't even think about it when he spread his wing wide and let her snuggle against his side. He walked quietly and in awe.

Ahead of them, Anglerfish twisted back his head to sneak a glimpse of them before turning his focus back to the wagon he was pushing. “Are they always like that?”

Crown snorted. “What, you mean are they always madly in love and everybody notices it except for the two of them?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Then yes, my shining pearl. They're always like that.”

[duskstars]

Postcrush but they’re HORSES

[rayshippouuchiha]

HELL YEAH I LOVE THIS SUIKAWARI MY HEART THING SHOUTA'S SO T H I R S T Y ok real talk deku absolutely knows who eraserhead is right??? hes an eraserhead fan right???????

"These seem kind of ...short," Izuku can't help but point out, hands coming down to tug futilely at the swim shorts that had somehow replaced his standard blue and yellow Mighty Swim Shorts(TM) he's had for years now. "And tight."

"As god Herself intended," Hitoshi mutters from where he's laid out on the concrete of the changing room floor. "Praise be to Yaomomo."

"Praise be," Izuku automatically echoes out of longstanding habit.

A beat of silence passes between them

"You know that floor is beyond filthy, right?" Izuku can't help but ask.

Hitoshi just peels one bleary eye open and stares up at Izuku silently.

"Fair enough," Izuku agrees as he goes back to fussing with his shorts.

"You nervous?" Hitoshi asks a few seconds later.

"Yeah," Izuku admits sheepishly. "Seems kind of dumb huh? Being so nervous over a charity event like this? But ... what if I look stupid?"

"Not possible," Hitoshi immediately denies.

Izuku loves his friend so much. Getting arrested together with Hitoshi at a rally really was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

"Very possible," Izuku counters. "Highly probably in fact. Everyone else participating is super cool with super cool moves, with or without their quirk being involved. I'm just ... me."

"Look," Hitoshi says as he eels his way across the floor until he's laying right beside where Izuku's standing. "Just go out there and do exactly what you did at practice. Trust me, it'll go perfectly. Especially since Todoroki's not here to catch the vapors or the drapes on fire."

"Still don't know why the entire group had to come to that practice," Izuku grumbles just a bit. "Or why Momo had to host it. Or why Uraraka recorded it."

"Kirby's making mint by now," Hitoshi mumbles under his breath.

"What?" Izuku asks.

"Nothing," Hitoshi waves his question off lazily as he finally rolls over and pushes himself up onto his feet.

He throws an arm over Izuku's shoulder and rests his sharp chin on the crown of Izuku's head.

"Like I said before," Hitoshi reaches his hand up to poke at Izuku's cheek, "just go out there and be your regular sunshine broccoli self and do what you did at practice night. You've got this."

And by this point all Izuku can do is believe him.

~~~

Crate of watermelons firmly in hand, Izuku bounces just a bit on his toes and focuses on taking deep breaths of fresh ocean air.

Dagobah Beach is still as beautiful now as it was all those years ago when he cleaned it for Toshi-sensei at the start of his apprenticeship.

On the other side of the small, curtained off backstage area the crowd that's gathered is going wild.

Honestly, Izuku would rather be out there watching the Miruko crush watermelons than here waiting for his own turn to go on stage.

But, eventually, is turn does actually come.

"...the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

Present Mic's announcement ringing in his ears, Izuku takes one last deep breath, does his best to smile, and moves out into view.

The crowd is deafening and Izuku has to admit that it always makes him feel more than a bit awestruck to have so many people cheering for him. Especially over something that's more than a bit silly even if it's for a collection of good causes.

He shoots the crowd a small wave as he sets his crate down.

"Show us what you've got!" Present Mic demands from somewhere to Izuku's right. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd begins to chant "De~ki~ru!" and Izuku picks up his first watermelon, determined to follow Hitoshi's advice.

The first and second melons break easily enough, just as they had at practice, but the crowd seems happy.

So Izuku moves onto his third pose, the one that the others had made him repeat a handful of times a few nights ago.

A flex of his thighs and a twist of his hips and his lap's covered in sweet pink flesh and sticky juice.

"Oh god," a voice, low and husky, cuts across the crowd, "I wish that was me right now."

Even as the crowd goes abruptly silent Izuku's attention immediately zeroes in on the source.

He immediately feels his entire soul leave his body.

Because standing there beside Present Mic, arms crossed over his chest and face blank, is Eraserhead.

The Eraserhead.

The same Underground Hero Izuku's been a huge fan of since the moment he found out he existed. The notorious hell teacher of UA whose very name sends shivers of fear down the majority of his friend group's spine.

The same Eraserhead who was Hitoshi's mentor.

And who Izuku may or may not have a strange, second-hand sort of not-crush on.

In his defense, Hitoshi's stories about his mentor are always highly entertaining to Izuku. And what he's learned about Eraserhead through his friend just makes Izuku think the man is someone he'd really like to get to know.

Which is what makes being here, topless, covered in watermelon juice, and with an actual audience to witness the semi-sexual remark Eraserhead had just made about him, a special kind of torture.

Because Izuku's never admitted it to anyone, and especially not Hitoshi, but Eraserhead lines up pretty closely with what Izuku would consider his type.

The man understands heroics, and according to his capture and expulsion rate and Hitoshi himself, has a lot of personal dedication and drive. The stories Hitoshi tells about him show he's got a soft streak he keeps well hidden and he's intimidatingly smart.

Plus he's tall, has hair that Izuku admits he wouldn't mind getting his hands tangled in, and looks like he'd be mean in all the right circumstances.

All of that is probably why Izuku finds himself speaking without really giving himself permission to open his mouth.

"Ah," Izuku hears himself say, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

For a long moment it's so quiet Izuku's pretty sure he can hear himself dying cell by mortified cell.

Eraserhead's face somehow manages to go even blanker.

And then, he smiles.

'Oh wow,' Izuku can't help but marvel as he takes in the expression he's seen palely echoed on Hitoshi's face a million times, 'that's ... unexpectedly attractive.'

He can feel even more heat rush to his face in response as he chews nervously on his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Eraserhead finally says, "and cats."

And Izuku can't help but grin because yes, yes he does.

But he's pretty sure he's going to end up liking Eraserhead even more than all of those put together.

~~~

"Hell is empty," Hitoshi intones when Izuku finally manages to get free of the semi-rioting crowd so he can rush back into the changing room to clean himself up. "All the devils are right fucking here."

Izuku stalls out for a moment, unsure of what, exactly, he's supposed to say to that.

"You've got a date with Eraserhead," Hitoshi plows on.

The expression on his face is caught somewhere between gleeful and absolutely unhinged.

"Yeah," Izuku can't help the grin that steals across his face as he wipes himself down. "Or at least I hope he was serious."

"Oh he was serious," Hitoshi reassures him. "As serious as the heart-attacks basically everyone we know have probably collectively had."

"Do you think he's gonna like me?" Izuku can't help but fret just a bit.

"He's gonna marry you," Hitoshi snips back. "And we're all gonna suffer. Thank the gods you won't be breeding at least. Whatever the both of you are ends with you."

"That's kind of a quick jump to make but quirk science has come a long way," Izuku says absently as he pulls his shirt over his head. "Most couplings are genetically possible these days you know?"

"That was not a challenge," Hitoshi hisses, horror overtaking his expression. "I swear to god Izuku do not spawn with Eraserhead."

Izuku just waves him off as he trots back towards the door to the changing room.

He has an Eraserhead to track down and, hopefully, date plans to iron out.

[wholesomemendes]

I have a request, if you’re taking them atm! Tour is still going and Alessia is still the opening act, so Shawn, Brian, Connor, Alessia, Olivia, and Y/N hang out in their gang just having fun, being their goofy selves. Brian and Connor know about Shawn liking Y/N and Alessia and Liv know about Y/n liking Shawn. They set them up and go form there? Ily and your stories and make sure you’re staying safe! xx

Author’s Note: I am so sorry this took so long, I’ve been working on it for way too long! But this is 4.7k of personal assistant fluff and I hope you enjoy it! As always please reblog and tell me what you think!

“Thank you, Glasgow!” Screams echoed out from every corner, energy bouncing off the walls as Alessia ended her set and ran off the stage. You and Liv sprinted your way backstage from where you were watching her on the side, maneuvering through all of the backstage crew in order to reach Alessia before her after show high had calmed down. Upon spotting the two of you, a wide smile formed on her face and she began running in your direction to meet you halfway. 

“That. Was. Incredible!” you screamed as she wrapped you both in a bone crushing hug.

“I know right! The crowd is so loud, I can’t even imagine what they’ll be like for Shawn,” Alessia replied with a smile, still trying to catch her breath from her performance.

“Don’t sell yourself short, they’ll probably be quieter for him. Man's looks can only take him so far.”

The two girls laughed at your light hearted joke before Liv piped up, “Better watch it Y/n, just cause you’re his assistant doesn’t mean he’s gonna give you a free pass at hurting his ego.”

“Nah, he knows I adore him, probably give him too much praise. Gotta make sure I don’t blow up his head too big,” you teased, joining in the girls giggles, “Speaking of Shawn, I better go find him before he goes out. I’m kinda slacking at my job right now.”

“Go, go, can’t leave your lover boy hanging,” Alessia lightly pushed you in the direction of his dressing room, knowing you hated when the girls teased you about your not so secret crush on your boss.

“I hate you!”

“I love you too!”

________________

“Does anyone know where Y/n is? She's usually back here by now...” Shawn was pacing around his dressing room anxiously while poor Tiff was attempting to put on the final touches of his outfit.

“I bet she’s on her way here right now, Alessia’s set just ended,” she tried to console him, “Now stand still and let me do my job.”

“I’m sorry I’m just worried, I haven’t seen her much today and I’m worried she’s not coming back here before I go on.”

“Shawn, she always comes back...” Tiff was interrupted by two short knocks on the door and your beautiful voice soothing the poor boy’s worries, “Shawn, can I come in?”

He didn’t even bother answering, instead choosing to rip the door open and pull you into his embrace, burying his face into your shoulder, “I thought you weren’t gonna come back.”

“What are you talking about, big guy? I always check up on you,” you giggled at his antics, feeling his breath slowly even out as he breathed in your signature scent. 

He pulled his face out from your shirt to look at you, the panic in them still evident, “You’re usually back here by now and I don’t know, I haven’t seen you much today and I was worried and...”

“Hey rockstar, deep breaths,” you smiled up at him with the loving gaze that was reserved just for him and took his face in your hands, relishing in the way he leaned into your touch, “I’m always gonna check on you before your show. It’s tradition...and my job but that’s a completely different topic. Besides, the reason you haven’t seen me around today is because I’ve been busy taking care of all the necessary business surrounding a certain pop star.” You poked his chest at your last sentence, earning a sincere chuckle to escape his lips for the first time in a few hours. 

The moment was interrupted by Tiff tapping Shawn’s shoulder lightly, “I hate to break this up, but you need to get dressed.”

Pushing Shawn away towards Tiff, you took a seat on the couch of the dressing room, watching as he covered up his muscular arms with an unbuttoned, army green short-sleeve shirt. You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the view of him in a white wife-beater tank, but you knew it would make an appearance again mid way through the show tonight. You made yourself busy by looking through your twitter feed, liking some of the posts from Shawn’s fans about the concert tonight. “Finished!” Tiff exclaimed excitedly, brushing out the fabric on his shoulders as Shawn fiddled with the array of rings on his fingers.

He tilted his head to look at you through his eyelashes, a smirk forming on his face when he saw your eyes do a quick glance up and down his body. Turning his head back to look at his hands, he prayed you couldn’t see the blush forming on his face from your looks as you were the only person that had that effect on him. He got thousands of compliments from beautiful girls every day, but they never meant as much to him as they did when you said them. It seemed painfully obvious to everyone around him that he was crushing hard on you, well at least that’s what the guys made it seem like. In reality, only Brian and Conner knew after they confronted a drunk Shawn one night who immediately spilled his feelings. That’s the issue with drunk Shawn, he was very, very emotional. Not in a bad way, unless you count sharing everything you feel towards your personal assistant before even she knows bad. 

“Shawn, did you remember to take your medicine?” you asked softly as Tiff left the room, meeting his eyes while he walked closer to where you were seated on the couch. You knew he hated other people knowing about his medication even if it wasn’t serious, he just didn’t feel the need to let people know. So even though you made it a point to remind him just in case he happened to forget, you always made sure to do it in privacy with the most gentle voice.

He cleared his throat, scratching nervously behind his neck, “I, um...I’m actually not taking it tonight.” This medicine wasn’t extreme by any means, it simply slowed his heart rate down so he could be calm on stage with his anxiety. But nevertheless it was medicine and for him to simply not take it tonight was a big deal whether he acted like it was or not.

Your eyes went wide, staring up at him where he had made his way between your legs on the couch as he fiddled with his fingers, refusing to meet your eyes. “Oh...that-that’s great, Shawn. Wh-Why aren’t you taking it?”

He sighed, making his way to sit next to you and laid down with his head in your lap. You carded your fingers through his long curls, trying your hardest to make sure you’d be able to easily style them again before he went on. “I don’t want to rely on medicine anymore. I get it’s not that big of a deal and a lot of artists use this type, but I don’t want to feel like I can’t perform without it. I need to do this for myself, to get over this. I talked to Andrew and Jocelyne before I made the decision, but I had already made up my mind.” A quiet moan escaped his plush lips when you lightly massaged a spot on his head as you listened intently, wishing nothing more than to take all his pain away.

“I’m proud of you,” he turned his head to look up at you as you spoke, hand coming to rest on his cheek that was once in his curls, “I really am.”

He placed his large hand over yours, lightly kissing the inside of your palm, “Thank you, it means a lot coming from you.” Your heart swelled three sizes at his words and the look in his eyes was indescribable. Deep down in your heart wanted to believe it was love, but the rational part of your brain quickly dismissed the thoughts. “Hey, I, um, I’ve wanted to talk to you abou-” “Shawn! You’re on in 15!” One of the backstage crew followed by three sharp knocks interrupted Shawn’s thoughts and he stood up with a huff, heading towards the mirror to fix his hair before turning towards the door. “You coming?”

“Of course.” You followed him out the door where he proceeded to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pressing you closer to him as you walked.

“Good, need you close tonight. Got a lot more nerves this time around.”

________________

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” Shawn mumbled to himself as the two of you were sitting under the stage. You could practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of him while you waited for his cue to run up those stairs. “I can do this, I can do this, I can…”

“Shawn, look at me,” you took his face into your small hands, cupping his cheeks with your palms as he stared back at you with wide doe-like eyes. It didn’t matter if it was almost pitch black under there, you could see the fear inside of those eyes that usually held so much joy. “You’re going to kill it out there rockstar and you don’t need any medicine to do that.” He leaned into your touch, hanging onto every last word you were saying. “That medicine isn’t what makes you a performer, it’s what’s in here-” you released one hand from his face to poke at his racing heart beneath his chest “-that gives you talent. You’re Shawn Mendes and if that doesn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will. Because the Shawn I know is the most talented, caring, and heartfelt man I’ve ever met, and to say I was him would be the biggest honor.” You could see his tears threatening to fall out of his eyes at your words, causing you to reach up and brush them away, “Now there’s an arena filled with people who love every single inch of you, so go out there and show them what you got.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he sighed, heart feeling lighter than it ever has. He swore you must be a witch because of the magic you had over him, but his brain told him it was the grip you had on his heart that allowed you to have this effect on him. 

“Good thing you’ll never have to.” With that he blew you a kiss, running up the stairs to be met with the deafening screams of thousands of fans.

________________

The screaming was insane as Shawn bounded off the stage, energy coursing through his veins. Alessia and Liv stood by your side, surrounded by people on your left and right all waiting to congratulate Shawn. Connor ran behind him, capturing the moment before clapping Shawn on the shoulder, yelling something about how amazing the crowd was over their screams. Suddenly, Shawn’s eyes locked with yours, his smile somehow growing wider as he made his way towards you. His face faltered for a moment when Andrew and some of the backstage members surrounded him, congratulating him on the show while his eyes fought to stay on you. He thanked them all profusely, trying his best to focus on them instead of where you were standing next to some of his best friends.

Once he got through the rest of the crew, he made his way over to you, letting out a sigh of relief when his arms were finally wrapped around you and his head was rested in the crook of your neck. “I did it,” he mumbled into your neck, “I did the show without it.”

Your heart was filled with so much pride and excitement for him that your eyes started to well up with tears while you squeezed your arms tighter around him, “I always knew you could do it. I’m so so proud of you, Shawn.” 

“I couldn’t do it without you.” He squeezed your body one last time before Brian was clapping him on the shoulder, turning his attention away from you. Shawn gave a final hug to Alessia and Liv, although it was much shorter and less intimate than the one he gave you, then followed Andrew’s orders to meet with some fans that were backstage. You followed behind him, handing him a water bottle when he began to cough, knowing that after every show his voice typically became extremely raw. He blew you one of his famous kisses as a thank you, causing your cheeks to heat up much to your dismay. Alessia was long gone, having gone back to her dressing room, and you were incredibly thankful that there was no one around to tease you about your inappropriate crush on your boss. Once pictures were done you followed Shawn back to his own dressing room, ready to go sleep the night away in your hotel room.

“That show was ecstatic! I don’t know if it’s just because I didn’t take my medicine, but the energy just felt so good!” Shawn was smiling from ear to ear as he pulled his sweat-filled tank top over his head, throwing it on the floor for you to inevitably pick up even if he didn’t intend for you to do so. 

“No, that crowd was definitely off the walls. Alessia said the same thing when she came off,” you told him, making your way to sit on the couch. 

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower and then we can head out.”

“Sounds like a plan. I can only imagine you’re excited to get back to the hotel, bet tonight’s show was more tiring than usual.”

“We’re not going back to the hotel,” he turned to you with a confused look on his face, bare chest on full display making your heart flutter, “Didn’t Alessia or Liv tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You know what they probably just thought I’d tell you. Brian, Connor, Alessia, Liv, and the two of us are going exploring. We don’t have another show for like two days or something…”

“Three days.”

“You know what I meant, but that means we have time to explore tonight and rest tomorrow.”

“Don’t you just want to go to sleep?” 

Shawn strolled over to where you were sitting, leaning over you to place his hands on the couch behind you. His face was inches from yours and you couldn’t help the flush that came over your cheeks from his bare skin being in such close proximity. “Sleep can wait. Now you-” he tapped the tip of your nose- “are going to find one of my sweatshirts in my bags because there’s no way you’re going out in that you’ll freeze, and I’m going to shower. Then we’re going to go exploring with our friends because sleep is for the week and we’re not weak.”

“You say that now, but your exhaustion tomorrow will say differently,” you called out as he pushed himself off the couch to head towards the shower.

“Good thing I have someone that will let me sleep on their lap during the bus ride!” You let out a huff of air, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see from where he was already in the bathroom. Making your way over to his bags, you began packing up his clothes from earlier along with the miscellaneous objects that were strewn around the room.  You followed his request from earlier, grabbing his youth hoodie that you loved so much and throwing it over your light sweater for the arena. Immediately your body was filled with warmth, it truly was one of his warmest sweatshirts, and your nose was filled with his scent, not helping your racing heart. The night had barely started, but you had a feeling that your emotions were going to get you in trouble later on.

________________

“There is no way you can eat that entire churro in one bite, I refuse to believe it.” The six of you had only been out about 15 minutes before Brian decided he was already hungry and needed one of the churros from the stand just outside of the hotel. It had been decided that you would stop at the hotel with the rest of the crew to drop everything off before you would be able to explore around the city, which still wasn’t completely accepted by Andrew. 

“Oh really? Bring it on Baby Brash, how much are we betting?” Brian countered, the foot long churro already paid for and in his hand.

“Two dollars.”

“Ten.”

“Five.”

“Deal.” 

“You don’t think he’s really gonna do it, do you?” you whispered to Shawn, not wanting Brian to hear you and force you to join the bet.

“I don’t know, five dollars is five dollars. Brian’s not gonna give up that easily,” he whispered back, hands in his pockets as he watched Brian aggressively eat the poor churro. 

Two minutes later, Brian was five dollars richer and your small group was admiring the architecture of the city. You had taken more candid photos than you could count, with a new selfie of you and Shawn as your lock screen, a result of him hacking into your phone claiming this picture of you with both of your tongues out and cheeks squished together was the best photo the two of you had. Now you, Alessia, and Liv were currently sitting on the grass, watching as the boys attempted to climb up a structure on a playground they found. As they say, boys will be boys and even if they were all considered adults now, they were still boys through and through. “So when are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?” 

“What?!” you asked, eyes wide as you turned to Alessia, “What-what are you talking about?”

“Come on, you act like we don’t know about your crush on Shawn. You’ve literally told us before.”

“First of all, yes I have a crush on him, but I’m not in love with him! That’s crazy. And two, he’s my boss and he’s never going to know.” 

“Honey, have you seen the way you look at him? You’re in love, stop lying to yourself,” Liv reasoned, Alessia nodding her head in agreement next to her, “And also who cares if he’s your boss? The two of you practically act like a couple half the time, he probably feels the same way.”

“But you don’t know that,” you whined, throwing your head back in frustration, “He’s so kind to everyone, that’s just how he is.”

“You know he acts differently around you, he doesn’t do half the things he does with you around the rest of his friends,” Alessia tried to convince you, but you weren’t having it.

“No he doesn’t, you guys are just trying to convince yourself that my feelings aren’t one sided.”

“Whatever you say,” Liv rolled her eyes playfully at you, earning a light swat in the shoulder from you as you laughed.

________________

“When are you gonna tell her you’re in love with her?” Meanwhile, the three boys had successfully climbed to the top of the structure and were having their own soul discovering conversation.

“Bro, what are you talking about?” Shawn stuttered, staring at Brian who was smirking in his direction.

“You know, Y/n? The girl you’re literally drooling over and get hearts in your eyes anytime you look at her?” 

Shawn’s cheeks began to heat up immediately, his head dropping to hide his lovesick smile, “I don’t get heart eyes.”

“Yeah you do, man, I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about how in love you are with her,” Connor chimed in, causing Shawn’s face to heat up even more.

“I like her, I obviously do, but I’m not in love with her. She’s one of my best friends, I’m not going to risk that to tell her about a silly little crush.”

“It’s obviously not a silly little crush if you act like a lovesick puppy around her.”

“I don’t act like a lovesick puppy around her!”

“Yeah, you do,” Connor snorted, trying to hide it with a cough.

“See, even Baby Brash sees it and he wouldn’t know love if it hit him in the face.”

Connor turned towards Brian, mouth wide open, “Hey, I know love.”

“Oh yeah?” Brian challenged, raising one of his eyebrows, “When was the last time you were in love?”

Connor stayed quiet, refusing to make eye contact with anything but the ground as he bit his lip in denial. “That’s what I thought, now Shawn you need to make a move!” 

“No,” Shawn shook his head, refusing to acknowledge his brain that was screaming love, “I’m not in love.” 

“Whatever you say.”

________________

“Ok everyone know the rules?” 

“What rules? It’s just first duo to get to the gazebo first wins,” you argued, watching as Connor shrugged his shoulders innocently. Currently you were on Shawn’s back as he held you like you weighed a feather, which you knew was far from the truth. Alessia was waiting to get on Brian’s back while Liv and Connor stood on the side, ready to run alongside the two pairs to judge who reached it first. You were convinced that with Shawn’s long legs you would win, but Brian was the one to suggest the race and he was talking a lot of smack. 

“If you know the rules so well then we should just start,” Liv pointed out, shooting a knowing look at Alessia as she jumped onto Brian’s back.

“Everyone ready? Three...Two...One...Go!” You squealed as Shawn took off with you holding on for dear life, laughing as he used his long leds to get an advantage. He laughed when you held on tighter, burying your face in his neck and fearing that he was going to drop you. You could hear the faint voices of Brian and Alessia behind you, convincing you that Shawn was well in the lead as the gazebo was only a few more feet in front of you. 

“We won!” he exclaimed breathlessly, releasing his grasp on your legs to let you slide off his back.

“Take that...Brian?” your voice trailed off as you looked around, not seeing the rest of your friends anywhere in sight. The two of you couldn’t even make out their figures in the area you left them, leaving the two of you more confused than ever, “Where... where did they go?”

“I don’t know, I swore they were right behind us…” Shawn reached into his pocket, silently cursing his friends when he saw the text from Brian on his screen:

Go get ‘em loverboy;)

“I think they left us here,” he sighed, leaning against the railing of the gazebo.

“Why would they do that?”

“Beats me.” You turned to face him and with the moonlight reflecting on your face, he swore you had never looked more angelic. 

“So what are we supposed to do? Call them, wait for them?” You shivered a bit when the wind began to pick up, Shawn immediately going into what one could only call protective boyfriend mode even if he had never admitted his feelings to you. 

“Come here, you’re cold.” He opened his arms up to you and you immediately cuddled into his warmth, the man was a walking heating furnace.

“How are you always so warm?” you mumbled into his sweatshirt as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“Don’t know, but it sure comes in handy when someone is always cold.” You nodded against his chest and he prayed that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating from you being so close to him, “What do you say we just walk around for a bit and if we don’t see them, we just head back to the hotel?” Not knowing what else to do you agreed, unwillingly peeling yourself away from his warmth and taking his outstretched hand in yours. His large hand engulfed yours, but you couldn’t help thinking about how natural it felt to have his hand in yours. The two of you walked around for what felt like hours through the city, laughing and smiling so much that your cheeks were beginning to hurt. 

As the two of you began to head towards the hotel, you stumbled upon an older woman and who you assumed was her husband taking a nighttime stroll along the street you were on. “You two make such a cute couple!” The older lady gushed as you got closer to the two of them, “Do you remember when that was us, Hank?”

“Of course I do, honey,” the man responded, “I still love you just as much as I did back then. Don’t lose that you two.”

The two of you blushed, bashful smiles on your faces at the couples words. “Thank you,” Shawn spoke up, sending a kind smile to the elderly pair, “We promise we won’t.”

“Good, good. Have a nice night!” 

“You too!” You both called out, sending a friendly wave in their direction as they walked away. You both walked in silence for a couple minutes processing their words, you biting your lip as your nerves bubbled in your chest, “Do we really look like a couple?”

Shawn stopped walking, pulling you with him so your chest was facing his. “I mean, sometimes we kinda act like one,” he told you sincerely, eyes dropping down to his feet as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Have you ever thought about it?” you asked quietly, your brain screaming at you for your foolishness while your heart beated proudly.

“About what? Us as a couple?”

“Yeah.”

“You want my honest answer?” He looked you in the eyes, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them lightly while you nodded, fear pooling in your eyes, “All the time.”

“You do?”

“How could I not?” he chuckled , lifting one of your hands to rest over his beating heart, “You feel how fast you make my heart beat? You’re the only one it does that for.”

You lifted his free hand to place over your own heart, letting him feel the rapid tempo, “Mine does the same for you, it always has.”

“Do you want to try this…this us? Our friends tell us we act like a couple anyways?” 

You bit your lip slightly, a playful smirk on your face as you looked up at him through your lashes, “Shawn Mendes...are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” he teased, hands coming to rest on your hips while yours came to his chest, “If I was, what would your answer be?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to ask my boss if he’s ok with me dating a coworker. So what does he say?”

“He says yes for sure.”

“Then it’s a yes from me.” Shawn wasted no time connecting your lips to his, pulling your body closer to his to eliminate any more space. No amount of dreaming could have prepared you for how his lips felt on yours, they were so soft and your whole body felt aflame from the passion he was putting into the kiss. You sighed when you felt his tongue swipe ever so gently against your bottom lip, immediately opening your mouth earning a moan of satisfaction from him when his tongue finally met yours. You were so consumed by him you weren’t even worried about how paparazzi could be nearby or if a fan saw you and took a picture, all you could think about was Shawn, Shawn, Shawn. 

“I’m in love with you,” he mumbled between kisses, not wanting to part from your lips for even a second, “I’ve been in love with you so long I can’t remember not loving you.”

“I’ve always loved you too, Shawn. I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one that’s dreamed about you,” and as he continued to kiss you in the middle of the city, the moon shined down on the scene, the stars admiring the love that was only set to grow.

[imagines--harrystyles]

I would literally die if you make an imagine where Harry meets a girl on a M&G and they barely have time to talk so the girl asks him to have a coffee with her and so he agrees. Then she invites him to go to her favourite places (like a lighthouse) and they get to to some of her favourite things(watch romcoms films) together in those 3-4 days Harry has between concerts and he surprises her with tickets for an a Ed sheeran concert (her favourite artist) and they kissed and skdjejwjaejrjejseur🌹

—-

You had been looking forward to this day for months. You still felt like it was too good to be true, like something would have to go wrong and you wouldn’t be able to meet Harry after all this time. You had it all planned out- what you would wear, what you would say to him. You’d had it planned out for weeks of course. And today was finally the day.

Although you wished your best friend would be able to come with you, you were only able to snag one meet and greet ticket so you would have to go alone. It didn’t bother you too much, though. You still were going to meet Harry Styles today.

Waiting in line to meet him felt almost unbearable; you just wanted to sprint past everyone and run into his arms and hug him forever. But you knew that would get you kicked out so you had to wait patiently, even though you were one of the last people in the line. After what felt like a day of waiting, you finally could get a glimpse of him as you made your way closer and closer to the table where Harry was sitting. His smile was bright and his eyes were brighter and you couldn’t believe how beautiful he was. Your hands began to shake as only five people remained in front of you, then four, three, two-

“Sorry everybody, we’re running behind schedule and Harry needs to be on his way to his way out of here in the next couple of minutes,” a large man standing next to Harry announced loudly. “Harry, we need you to just say hi to these last few folks and then we gotta go,” the man told Harry sternly. There were only a couple other people behind you and the disappointment that filled the room was almost audible.

“So sorry guys, I really appreciate you all coming here today,” Harry told you all with a genuine look of guilt. He came forward and hugged the two people remaining ahead of you and finally he embraced you for a short two seconds as the man began to usher him out.

“Wait!” You yelled as he turned away. Harry quickly turned back towards you, his eyebrows threaded in concern. “I’m sorry, I just have waited so long for this and I didn’t even get to talk to you, is there any chance you would meet me for coffee later when you have time?” You asked in a small voice, amazed at your sudden confidence. 

Harry glanced at the man next to him who gestured for him to head towards the door. “I can do that,” Harry smiled at you and agreed to meet you at a local coffee shop the next morning. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, feeling like you were in a dream and hoping with everything you had that he would actually show. Harry nodded his head, the smile still spread wide across his face, as the large man all but dragged Harry out of the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, realizing how much your hands were shaking now. A smile crept onto your face as you began to walk towards the exit, feeling as if you were in a dream.

–

You slept a total of maybe two hours that night with the anticipation of possibly grabbing a coffee with the Harry Styles the next morning. As excited as you were, you couldn’t help but feel like he wouldn’t show. He was a super busy pop star after all, so busy that he didn’t even have time to finish the meet and greet with you yesterday, so how would he have time to grab a coffee with you today?

Either way, you put on your second best outfit (you wished you hadn’t wasted your best one on the brief meeting the day before) and headed out the door. The coffee shop was only a 10 minute walk from your house. You told yourself you’d walk slowly as you left half an hour prior to the time you agreed to meet, but it wasn’t until you reached the coffee shop that you realized you had made it there in record time. You decided to scope out the place and chose an intimate booth towards the back where you would wait for Harry. Harry Styles. It still felt surreal.

Half an hour passed, and then another 20 minutes passed. The disappointment gradually flooded through you as you decided to tell yourself that this was it, realizing how idiotic it was to think he’d come in the first place. As you stood up and began to grab your things, you heard the bell ring that signaled someone had walked through the door. With a glum look on your face and the disappointment having consumed you, your eyes suddenly met bright and familiar green ones. Tousled brown hair and out of breath, none other than Harry Styles stood before you, a guilty look on his face similar to the one from the day prior when he had to leave the meet and greet early. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, my meeting this morning ran long and then when we were driving… anyways, I’m here now and I’ve been looking forward to meeting you this morning,” Harry breathed out, a smile forming on his beautiful face.

“I-oh, no, you don’t, it’s totally fine I just am happy to see you,” you stuttered, suddenly forgetting how to breathe. 

Harry walked towards you and stretched out his arm. It took you a moment but realized that he was trying to shake your hand, and you extended yours as you tried to wipe the shocked look from your face.

“What is your name?” Harry asked as he moved to sit in the chair next to the one you had been sitting in as you waited for him. You let out a breath and shakily pulled out the chair next to his as you spent the next two hours talking about anything and everything.

“Wow I definitely am late for something,” Harry sighed as his phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time. You were surprised by how annoyed he seemed that his time with you was being interrupted.

“I’m really sorry for keeping you, I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been talking,” you murmured, truly surprised at how much time had passed as you glanced at the time on your phone.

“Time flies,” Harry replied with a grin spreading on his face. “I’m sorry that I have to go, I really enjoyed getting to talk with you. Maybe we could do this again tomorrow…?”

Your face immediately broke into a smile as you realized this dream might continue. “Yeah for sure, I actually have a place in mind we can meet tomorrow,” you replied, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. You were again surprised to find that same excitement mirrored on Harry’s face.

You agreed on a meeting place for the next day and parted ways, a giddiness in both of you that you’d never felt before.

–

After what felt like weeks, the next day came and it was time for you to see Harry again. Standing on the beach where you’d agreed to meet, you couldn’t help but feel this must be some sort of dream. In what world would Harry Styles agree to not only meet you for coffee, but then suggest that the two of you spend more time together? Unreal.

But yet, as you glanced over just past your favorite lighthouse, the gangly and exquisite man who had filled your thoughts for so long appeared as he walked towards you, that same smile spread across his face. Truly unreal.

“Hey there,” he said as he finally reached you, leaning in for a hug. 

“Hi,” you breathed as you embraced each other firmly, as if you were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. 

“It’s beautiful,” you heard Harry murmur as you looked down the length of the beach, the sunlight bouncing on top of the turquoise waves. You smiled and looked at Harry to find his eyes intensely focused on you. You looked down, overcome by the intensity of his gaze and the butterflies that suddenly filled your insides. You nodded and started to lead the way towards the light house as Harry followed behind.

“This is one of my favorite places, it makes me feel so calm,” you told him as you both walked along the sand, a look of peacefulness on both of your faces. Harry smiled and you both once again began talking for hours as you strolled along the beach, eventually making your way to your favorite park and walking in between rose bushes. 

–

The next few weeks were spent watching your favorite rom coms with Harry on your sofa. You lit up as you heard him laugh at your favorite parts of He’s Just Not That into You, and your heart melted as you watched tears fall from his eyes at the end of The Notebook. You both were filled with such joy and serenity spending time together, and you hoped it would never end.

You had been to a couple of Harry’s concerts and watched in amazement from backstage as he brought thousands of people to tears as he belt out the words to “Falling”. You were so in awe of this man and still couldn’t believe he would choose to spend so much of his time with you.

He had a couple of days off before his next show and you were excited to spend some more time with him. You didn’t really have anything planned and felt bad that he was this exciting person used to doing exciting things, but all you really had to offer was walks to your favorite places and watching rom coms, not that you didn’t cherish those moments with him. You just felt like maybe switching things up would be a good idea, but you weren’t sure what to do.

“I have something for ya,” you heard Harry murmur as you sat in the back of the car with him following his show. You smiled as he extended his arm, holding two pieces of paper. You took them from him and lit up when you saw what they were- tickets to see Ed Sheeran, your favorite artist (besides Harry of course).

“Backstage passes. He happens to be a friend of mine,” Harry smirked. You couldn’t help but lunge towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. He held you tightly, exhausted and happy, his heart pounding for more reasons than just the adrenaline from performing in front of thousands of people. You leaned back and before you had a chance to thank him, his lips melted into yours, hot and soft and better than you’d ever dreamed. Seconds turned into minutes, and finally Harry pulled back to look at your face. 

Your smile matched his and he kissed the top of your head before pulling you close. He was asleep within minutes, blissful as you held each other, the matching smiles remaining plastered on both of your faces. 

[dc41896]

And The Award Goes To...

After seeing this suit AND this walk, I had to come up with something lol

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black Reader

Warnings: None

“Well thank you for speaking with us and good luck tonight!,” the interviewer, Zuri, smiled, opening her arms to give you a hug which you gladly accepted.

The way your nerves were right about now, you felt like you could use a million of them and would take one from anyone offering.

Being escorted down the red carpet, your emerald green, satin dress seemed to reflect the sun rays the way it shined with every step you took in your gold, strappy stilettos. With simple spaghetti straps and a v-neck, the material clung to you from your chest to mid thigh where the left side split open down to just above your polished toes to show your leg, equally shining thanks to Rihanna’s Fenty Body Lava and you’re hydrated melanin. Photographers call out for you to stop for pictures as the sounds of cameras clicking and flashing lights seem to come in waves.

“I don’t think I’d ever get used to this,” your best friend, Hazel, whispers to you as you both pose for a few pictures.

“I’m not used to it either, this is just my first award show,” you answer as you resume your walk down the remainder of the carpet to the inside of the building.

“First of many though! Trust me, you just getting started girl.”

Being called the breakout star of the summer, you hoped that more roles and invitations to award shows were to come. Ever since you were young, you always dreamed of accepting an Oscar or a Golden Globe, and yes even practiced your speech in front of your parents, which they of course recorded and tended to bring out whenever they wanted to reminisce on your childhood.

In all honesty though, yea the accolades were amazing and you wanted them, but if they didn’t come you’d still be ok. You loved acting and to be able to do what you loved every day was all that mattered.

Waiting for everything to start, you sat at your table talking with your director and a couple of your other cast mates, as well as took selfies with Hazel. Looking at the picture, you see a blurry, yet familiar figure in the background prompting you to turn around to see if you were truly correct in your thinking.

Sure enough, you were and began quietly freaking out.

In what looked to be a chocolate brown, velvet suit with a white button down shirt and black bow tie, there stood Chris Evans looking as amazing as ever and currently walking pass your table to get to his. You never though you’d be hypnotized by a walk, but here you were openly gawking and wishing his table was across the room so he’d have to do the movement a bit longer.

“Dang Cap, bring that walk this way,” Hazel speaks, pulling out her phone to record him walking away.

“Put your phone down creeper,” you laugh lightly smacking her arm.

“Takes one to know one Miss let me openly stare at my celebrity crush and his booty.”

———

“Looks like your award is next!” Hazel softly squeals lightly shaking your arm. “I wonder who’s presenting for it?”

As if hearing her question, the announcer introduces Chris as he walks out smiling with card in hand.

“Whoaa that’s crazy!! You could receive your award from THE Chris Evans!,” she gasps. You managed to keep it together as the camera panned to you, softly smiling and being gently nudged by your director making you giggle.

On the inside though, you were a nervous wreck. You were already worried about falling if you had to walk to the stage, but now you had to worry about literally falling in front of Chris and never being able to show your face again due to embarrassment.

“And the winner for best actress in a comedic performance is...Y/F/N Y/L/N!,” he reveals causing everyone to applaud and your table to go crazy. Quickly hugging the rest of your friends seated next to you, you slightly lift the un-split side of your dress so it won’t potentially get caught on your heels as you walk.

“Welp here we go,” you thought to yourself, making your way up the stairs. Being the gentleman that he was, Chris met you halfway up the steps offering his hand to help you the rest of the way.

“Congratulations!,” he sweetly whispers handing you the figurine, which surprisingly had a good amount of weight to it.

“I’m really gonna try not to cry right now but chances are I will so I apologize in advanced for that,” you start, causing a small amount of soft laughs to erupt in the room.

“First off, I want to thank God because he blessed me with this opportunity, and I want to thank my parents who sadly aren’t here because of the flu but I know y’all are watching and I love you!”

“I also want to thank my friends both old and new, my director James, the cast and crew, and everyone else in my life that’s supported me and helped me in any way whether small or large. Ok I’m gonna go backstage now and cry and hope you all have a good night!,” you finish with a small wave as you turn away from the mic, applause behind you as you make your way off the stage followed by Chris.

“That was a really nice speech,” he says, now beside you.

“Really? Thanks! I feel like I sounded like a rambling mess.”

“You might’ve felt that way, but I assure you, that’s not how it sounded,” he replies.

“Y/N! Congrats on the award! We need you to come this way for another short interview with the press,” a tall, slender man with glasses interrupts smiling as bright as the camera flashes coming from the room where the interview was to take place.

“Well I um guess I’ll see you later. Congrats again!,” Chris smiles.

“Thanks and yea see you later!,” you reply smiling as he walks away to return to his seat.

“Yep this definitely will take some getting used to,” you thought, walking into what felt like a sea of cameras and questions.

———

“Tonight has been surreal!! Just being here in midst of everything, you winning, AND getting said award from Chris Evans!!! If I were you I’d be dead right now,” Hazel says grabbing a glass of champagne off one of the trays being carried by servers.

“I know!! I feel like none of this is real and I’m gonna wake up any moment.”

“Well it is real and I’ll even pinch you to show you if needed. Or better yet we can get your new bestie Mr. Evans to do it.”

“He is not my new bestie, and I definitely would not ask him or anyone to pinch me,” you laugh sipping from your glass.

“Whoa pinching? What kind of party is this?,” you hear from behind you causing both you and Hazel to choke on your drinks.

You from utter shock and disbelief he heard that, and her from laughing at your reaction.

“Chris! Hi! Um sorry about that I-,”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s ok. Also if you did ask me, that’d certainly be a first,” he laughs.

“Um Chris this is my best friend Hazel,” you introduce as the two shake hands.

“Nice to meet you Hazel. And this is my brother Scott, Scott this is Hazel and Y/N,” he responds to which Scott shakes both of your hands and congratulates you on your award. “The answer is probably obvious, but how’s your night?”

“Amazing! I don’t want this night to end!,” Hazel excitedly answers causing you all to laugh.

“I agree it’s amazing, but I don’t think everything’s set in yet. And this probably will sound weird but I feel like Cinderella and as soon as the clock strikes 12, I go back to normal.”

“No it’s not weird at all, like you said everything is kinda unbelievable and it’s still a bit shocking. I totally understand,” Chris lightly nods before drinking from the beer bottle in his hand. “Also can I add that I love that movie.”

“Same! She’s not my favorite princess though, but I still love the movie.”

“Who’s your favorite then?,” he asks, leaning on the table with his elbow.

“I have two. Overall, it’s Tiana but for the songs it’s Ariel,” you answer.

“Can you believe? 2 grown adults going on about Disney movies like kids,” Scott whispers to Hazel, to which she nods agreeing with him.

“You should see her on the weekends. When she’s bored, she watches videos about all the rides, parades, and stuff in all the Disney parks,” she adds, lightly laughing along with Scott at you and Chris’ excited expressions as you guys continue on with your conversation.

“Hey you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we head to the bar and let the Disney fanatics enjoy their time together?,” Hazel answers as Scott links his arm with hers.

“Exactly!”

“I have the feeling this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” she smiles holding up her glass as he clinks his with hers.

“And hopefully a beautiful relationship between those two,” he adds as they reach the bar.

“Wait? How did you know Y/N likes Chris?”

“She does?! I didn’t know at all, Chris kept talking about her at our table during the show and when we saw you guys here I suggested he go talk to her.”

“If they end up getting married, I’m expecting a shout out for the both of us for getting them together,” Hazel replies making Scott laugh as they cheers once again.

———

“So Y/N, the people need to know, how was your conversation with America’s golden boy?!,” Hazel asks joining you on the couch, plate full of waffles, eggs, and fruit in one hand as she holds out her fork pretending it’s a mic to your face.

“Girl you need to relax!,” you laugh lightly pushing her fork away. “But it was good, I mean he’s super friendly and we like a lot of the same things.”

“Yea Scott and I heard a bit of your conversation and let me say if there was a couples Disney jeopardy game, you guys would more than likely win.”

“Hey don’t judge us, it’s not our fault that’s something we like,” you laugh. “He said how he goes to Disneyland pretty much every year and said that I should come along-,”

“Umm say what now?!?! He invited you to Disneyland?!?!!!!,” she interrupts after momentarily choking on a piece of egg.

“I wouldn’t call it an invitation really. It’s like when you’re talking to someone about a nail place you go to and say how they should try it out sometime. Plus it was after I said I hadn’t gone since I was a teenager.”

“Either way you got invited by a guy who’s interested in you to Disneyland, which is a dream date of yours!!”

“Just because he was nice to me doesn’t mean he’s interested Hazel,” you reply taking a bite out of your omelette.

“Well let’s just say an EXTREMELY close source, aka his brother, confirmed that Mr. Evans was definitely into you and checking you out the whole award show,” she squealed.

Now was your turn to choke on your food.

“Really?,” you ask pulling yourself together. “He didn’t try to get my number or anything though so maybe it was just a ‘she’s pretty’ type like versus an ‘I really want to get to know her’ like.”

“I don’t think so, but we’ll see. Even still though he definitely invited you to Disney and you better take him up on that offer or I’ll smack you then go in your place!,” Hazel adds, picking up your now empty plates to put them in the sink.

“Noted,” you laugh now looking at the messages on my our phone. Of course there were the usual ‘congratulations!’ from family members, your team, and your other co stars who were unable to come to the show.

Although he was there, your director even messaged you telling you congratulations again on your award followed by one of the sweetest message you’d ever recieved saying how much he appreciated you on set and that you were surely about to change the acting game.

Y/N: Aww James, I was trying not to cry today lol!!! ❤️😭😭 that was so sweet and I thank you so much for giving me this chance that has surely changed my life forever!

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: You’re so welcome love and deserve it😘! Also I have some news...

Y/N: Ohh another project you want me to be in?? Wait I don’t have to give the award back do I👀?

😎 Bond, James Bond🎥: Lmao no not yet and no it’s yours🤣🤣. The news is a certain someone who you were talking to ALL night asked me for your number and I wanted to ask you first before I gave it out just to be sure

Y/N: 😳😳😳🤯

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: Mhmm 😏😏

Y/N: Lol yea it’s fine you can give it to him

😎Bond, James Bond🎥: Done! Have fun you two 😉😂!

You expected that he was probably busy and you’d more than likely hear from him later. However the running theme of your life recently seemed to be how nothing turned out how you expected.

???: Hey Y/N! It’s Chris

???: That is Chris from last night, in case you know another Chris lol

“Oh my gosh he’s such an adorable dork!,” Hazel gushes from over your shoulder, making you jump.

“Can I have some space ma’am?!”

“Oh sorry,” she innocently smiles going towards her bedroom. “If you need me, just call!”

Shaking your head as she exits, you turn your attention back to the screen in your hands and hoping that you don’t make a fool of yourself.

Y/N: Hey😊! And can honestly say I don’t know any other Chris’ lol

Chris: Lol ok good. I mean not that other Chris’ are bad or anything. Looking back at it, I should’ve just left it at “Chris from last night” my bad 🤦🏼‍♂️

Y/N: 🤣🤣 it’s ok. Exactly how many drinks did you have last night?

Chris:😶....lets just say I’m not totally hungover, but my head is hurting a bit 😂

Hearing you laugh to yourself from downstairs, Hazel contently sighs before turning on her laptop as she plops down on her bed.

“Yep, I can hear the wedding bells and thank you speech now,” she speaks to herself as she smiles.

A/N: So this turned out longer than I expected and not gonna lie, kinda didn’t know where I wanted to go with it by the time I got in the middle of it😓 lol but hopefully you guys like it!

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @fumbling-fanfics @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @nina-sj @itshinothey @wildfirecracker

If you want to be added to the taglist, have asked to be added and don’t see your name, or only want to be tagged for certain people I write for just let me know 🤓!

[maximoffzinha]

Candyman (50′s AU)

The war is over. Poe goes out to drink and can't help but to feel lost. What he's gonna do? His life was only war, and now it ended, and all he has left is a Corgi... And the memory of a voice as sweet as candy.

A/N: So, this is the first time I tried to write something like this... Never done reader inserts before but Poe really puts me in the mood. PS: Please have in mind that english is NOT my first language, I'm sorry for any mistakes

°°° It was a warm night; people were dancing around the bar finally being able to enjoy parties again. The War was over, for good this time, and Poe wasn’t going to waste any time. Being a Pilot for the royal fleet wasn’t easy, he lost many colleagues and many friends, but tonight was about happiness, a celebration! His best friend Finn invited him and two of the nurses of their squadron, Rey and Rose, for this party, they had become good friends besides the environment where they met, and while he was walking around he saw Snap and his wife Karé together laughing and enjoying each other presence in the midst of the drunk mess and the dancing couples.“I’m telling you man, I think I have a shot at the academy.”- Finn told him excitedly, he was looking for work after the army dismissed him at the end of the war.“That’s awesome Finn! I got a job at a local hospital, if you need a place to crash, we have a spare bedroom since Rose and I share the suit.”- Rey says with a smile, the two women have been living together after the hell they’ve been through on the field.“And you Poe? Any plans?” Poe stared at his friends, had he any plans really? Those five years fighting had been the only thing occupying his mind, he never thought he would get a chance to do something else, hell he never thought the war was going to end. Except it did, what did he have left? Sure, he was a General now… But he didn’t see himself in the military front forever… He wanted a domestic life, a house to get back to, someone to get back too… He even knew who he wanted, but the was too much of a coward to look for her… What could he give her?  Scars, psychological trauma and a corgi. At least BB wasn’t expecting much more of him than belly rubs and food. All of his friends had some sort of last resource, someone to get back to (well he had his father, and his sort-of-maybe-adoptive-Mother Leia, but it wasn’t the same). He mumbled some idiotic answer to his friends that seemed pleased enough, and was shaken out of his sadness by the sound of applauses and a familiar up beat tune.“Holy shit, they brought her!”“I thought she had retired!”Soon enough a velvet like voice began to sing, and Poe didn’t need to look up to the stage to know it was really you. Two Years Ago… Poe and his squadron were back to the base after a month long operation that took them all the way to Eastern Europe, they were tired, beat down, and grieving with the loss of many colleagues, so imagine their surprise when they saw a show stage in the middle of the field. Colonel Solo gave them the day off to enjoy the show paid by the US allies as a reward for their backup.Poe and the guys did their best to freshen up and went on their way to the show, some girl choir was there and the guys were excited to maybe get laid. It was nice to see them hoping for something else besides survival. A upbeat sound started and some well dressed women were up, their outfits reminded him of some military secretaries back home, their hair in perfect Victorian Rolls with a hat on top that resembled the formal uniform he had stored away. They began to sing and dance some sort of mock up march, and then there she was… Y/N Y/L/N. The men around Poe started howling and whistle when they saw the American beauty. Poe was frozen, as she sang the song (so full of innuendos that got him in a mood), somehow their eyes locked and the words coming out of her mouth held a lot more of meaning.“There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm... He’s a one stop shop, makes the panties drop...” -She licked her deep red tinted lips and Poe found himself doing the same. “He’s a sweet talkin’, sugar coated Candyman”- The other girls supplied backing up her strong voice.The lead lady then took of her blazer living her in a tight blue tank top like dress that had the soldiers screaming louder. “Well, by now I'm getting all bothered and hot…When he kissed my mouth, he really hit the spot… He had lips like sugar cane, oh” “Good things come for boys who wait!”- She winked giving a side smirk then turned around to dance with the backing vocal ladies.She then opened space for two girls come to the front, a red headed, and a blonde.“He's a one stop, gotcha hot, makin' all the panties drop…”- The blonde one sang and danced her way next to the red head. “He's a one stop, got me hot, makin' my (uh) pop…”- they both dance to stand next to the main singer who smiles before singing. “He's a one stop, get it while it's hot, baby, don't stop”- She sang and they got on to the next part. “He got those lips like sugar can…- They belted a high note in harmony and Poe saw some of his mates literally drooling. - “Good things come for boys who wait” “He's a one stop shop with a real big (uh)… - The main lady sang without breaking eye contact with Poe who swallowed dry. – “He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candy man…”  After the show Poe didn’t try to invade the stage like his desperate friends, he went straight to the backstage, nervously passing his hands on his dark curls, he avoided the other girls going straight to her, every second he got less confident but he found himself knocking on the support bar of your makeshift tent.“Yes? Come in please.”- Poe stepped inside the tent and saw her wearing a lighter blouse, in trousers and a pair of black boots, still with her make up on, he thought she was even more beautiful that way. “Hello? Anybody there?”- She was snapping her fingers on his face, and he felt the warmth spread across his face. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m Commander Poe Dameron, from the black squadron.”- He said still embarrassed. “Commander? Very interesting… I’m Y/N. So Fly Boy, are you here to show me you have ‘The lips like sugar cane?’ like every other officer on this camp might try later?” Poe was taken back, what was exactly his plan? He really didn’t think this through, and was feeling kind of stupid, I mean, did he really thought he was the only man that tried to win her? “… That must be tough.”- He found himself saying. “It’s more tiering than anything else really… Most of the times the guys understand the meaning of NO, but other times… Sorry, you don’t have anything to do with this.” “No, I don’t mind… I can’t imagine that is easy to be out here having to entertain a bunch of needy man.”- He said with a smile, she sat down on a bed and motioned to him to sit with her. “I shouldn’t complain, you are doing an essential job, taking the real risk, and I’m a showgirl. I wish I could do more, maybe being a nurse… Or even fight like those Russian girls.” – She sighed. “Try to fight? That’s not something you see everyday… You any good with a pistol?”- He said with a smile and an idea popping into his mind. “I know some stuff, my dad taught me even though I was a girl… It came with the singing classes.”- She smiled a little as she got a small pistol from her boot.Poe let a small laugh out as he got up and gave out his hand to the woman, she hesitated a little but accepted his silent invite and followed him out of her tent.It was already night and the sky was clear and the star shined bright.“Where are you taking me Fly Boy?”- she said smiling. Poe could see the stars reflected in her eyes, as she could see it in his. “You’re gonna have to trust in my Showgirl…” – He smiled back at her.This man was weird, but by far the gentlest and educated one she found on this tour through the camps. It also helped that he was devilish handsome, his smile was broad and true, his hair was beautiful even though she knew the supplies were few, but his eyes… His eyes dragged her in and she found herself lost in them already. She was no fool, she knew love at first sight didn’t exist, but damn if this wasn’t a close to the feeling.That night he took her to the forest, and he showed her the beauty behind all the pain they were living. Present times. He had kissed her, he had loved her in the short while they were together, after he took her back to the camp she gave him her full name, told him to look for her after the war, she said she would be waiting… And he didn’t do that. Not because he had forgotten her, God knew there was no way for him to forget her, but because he knew better. She was a star, a fucking singer, with a brilliant career ahead of her, and he was what? Another soldier. Just another pilot without a plan.When she started to sing, that same lewd song that got him and so many other soldiers crazy, he only smiled, making way to the front of the stage being pulled by Finn and the girls who were dancing happily.She saw him. How could she not? Right there, with the formal uniform that made him look so damn good, she was singing that same damned song that she sang the night they met. And fuck if it didn’t make her remember him, it was like the lyrics were about him. Fucking gorgeous bastard… She thought without stopping the show, and while he looked at her singing, she formed a plan to never let him go again. “He’s a sweet talkin’, sugar coated Candyman… A sweet talkin’, sugar coated Candyman.” As the crowded bar applauded Y/N got down from the stage and staying in front of Poe she got him by the neck of his shirt and brought him down for a heated kiss, it didn’t take long for him to respond to it letting even a small moan as he held her by the waist and felt her fingers tugging in his hair. “Wow… Showgirl… What’s this for?” “I missed my Fly Boy and his candy cane lips…” – She whispered against his mouth, they separated when finally noted the whistles and cat calls around them. “You didn’t look for me, so I came after you, Commander Dameron…” “It’s General now actually…”- He smiled at her surprised face. “It seems like we have a lot of catching up to do.”- She said playing with the medals on his blazer. “We do… What do you say we come back here… Thursday, 7 p.m. sharp.”- He said smiling. “Is this an order, General?” “It’s a hopeful request from a stupid man that almost let you go.” “Then it’s settled. 7 p.m. sharp. Dress nicely, you look good in tuxedos, Candyman…” She went away with a sway of her hips and left Poe smiling like a fool not even noticing the sheer disbelief on his friends faces… He didn’t know what the future would be like… But at least he had a date.

[reachfortheskiespeeps]

The Meeting

FANFICTION BY: ''You know who you are ; ))'' AU: #actorAU PAIRING: MIKHAIL x ARCHER (aka HS!AU Adult Emilio's actor and HS!AU Adult Abel's actor)

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((A/N: I ended up writing this before the one I initially thought to do, I swear this is much tamer than the other 😂 Sorry to disappoint, no spicy scenes, maybe next time XD Thank you Eszii for your spicy art, I just about burst into flames from it 💞

It’s this ship again, Mikhail x Archer, bc I am currently in love with them. I don’t think I’ll get over them for a while. I wanna write about them going through classic shoujo tropes, like, idk, beach episode? xmas episode? kabedon? ‘A got sick so B took care of A’? Gimme ideas y'all. I wanna keep writing while I have the motivation to do so, since I’ve had a dry spell for a year now 😂

One thing to note before getting started, Idk how to phrase it, but basically this fic is not in chronological order–but also yes bc it’s in the order i wrote it–I hope it’s not too confusing. Aight happy reading!))

——

Mikhail loves leaving butterfly kisses and hickeys all over Archer’s soft and fair body. He has his favorite areas, which are evident from how many and how deep they are, so Archer can’t even look at his reflection without blushing. Mikhail likes the sight of his lover covered in marks he made, knowing it was he who made them. While he does want to make it known that Archer is his, he doesn’t cause trouble by leaving marks on areas impossible to cover. On days when Archer isn’t busy, Mikhail is given free reign to kiss wherever he wished. He doesn’t want Archer getting hurt, so he rarely makes blatant bite marks, and the only times he did that was because Archer was being naughty and had to be taught a 'lesson’. (Although Archer didn’t seem very hurt by them, and instead….)

Archer, on the other hand, likes biting Mikhail’s hard body. He bites, he scratches, he licks. He did it the first time because he was being pouty and petty–it’s tough being the receiver ya know? And Mikhail just lets him because he’s cute and it’s kinda hot to feel his fangs sinking in like that. But then Archer got used to doing it and eventually did it because Archer noticed that Mikhail seemed to like being bitten (by none other than him, of course). He once caught Mikhail looking at his body on the mirror with a happy little tug on the corner of his lips, looking very much like a content Big Bad Wolf. Archer could almost see an imaginary tail wagging. He loves Mikhail’s body for all its glory and imperfections, even if the man himself didn’t, so leaving those marks on him was one of Archer’s many ways to show affection.

So one day when Mikhail shows up to work without bothering to cover up (it wasn’t noticeable anyway, his dark skin, tattoos and intimidating aura was enough for people not to look long enough to notice anything), Logan, who was beside Mikhail getting prepared for a scene, saw a small portion of scratch marks on his chest, the rest hidden by the v-neck shirt Mikhail wore.

And before he could stop his mouth, Logan found himself asking, “You have a cat, Mikhail?” Yuki, who was in the room with them too, looked up from reading his script upon hearing the brave attempt of Logan to converse with Mikhail. He didn’t join them, but he sat there, just listening in on their conversation. He didn’t have the guts that Logan had, but he was still interested to see how their conversation would go.

Mikhail looked at him–it was an ordinary glance but Logan still almost flinched. “Oh?”

'It was a gentler reply than I expected,’ Yuki thought. 'He is in a good mood?’

Logan seemed to think that as well, so he carried on the conversation. “Since when did you have it? Did you get it vaccinated yet? Some cats are just really playful, they don’t mean to be naughty, so it’s better to be patient and discipline them when–”

“Why do you think I have a cat?” Mikhail interrupted.

“Hm? Ah, I saw the scratch on your chest. What does your cat look like, by the way?”

Mikhail thought about it before he answered. “Pretty, soft, round, and pure white, got some claws, but never intends to hurt me. It’s cute.”

“And the eyes?” Logan eagerly asked.

“Hypnotic.” Mikhail unconsciously smiled, though Logan didn’t seem to notice, too happy to talk to the man in a pleasant manner. “Makes the cutest sounds too.”

But Yuki did.

“You must really love your cat huh?” Logan, as well as the silent Yuki, was surprised to know that Mikhail had a soft side. Well, not so surprised. He’s only ever truly obedient to Archer, whether the two of them noticed it or not.

Mikhail thought back to the man resting at home. Archer’s next scene was scheduled for tomorrow, so he had enough time to recover the energy he lost.

Mikhail played with his 'cat’ a bit too much last night. His clothes hid the many marks all over his chest and back made by his oh so cute little cat who grew resentful of Mikhail’s stamina, yet still unable to withstand mewling to his irresistible charm.

With a mischievous smile, Mikhail said, “I do.”

—-

Bonus:

After the shoot, in the shower rooms.

Yuki’s reaction when he saw Mikhail’s back: やっぱりね~ [Yappari ne~] Not a ネコ [neko], but a こいびと [koibito]…. Well, maybe both.

((A/N: Fun fact, neko in Japanese slang can also mean the “bottom” in a relationship. The more you know~

Can you guys recommend some sexy songs? I need background music for when I write stuff like this lol))

——

The first time Mikhail 'met’ Archer, it was on the radio. He was in his car, driving alone to a destination that no upright citizen should have any business with. He wasn’t in a good mood. Everything ticked him off–the traffic that he’d already passed, the voices on the radio who thought they were being funny, the sun blazing high up in the cloudless sky. He turned the radio off because it was annoying, but the goddamn silence left him with too much space to think. He needed a distraction. So he turned it back on and chose a random station.

“–by Archer Charles,” after the introduction, a pleasant-sounding voice thanked and began to sing live.

When Mikhail heard that voice, he sharply inhaled through his nose, his slightly dry lips parting.

Mikhail was not very good at describing. He could only say what he felt upon listening to Archer’s voice. Mikhail, who had been irate, was awestruck. He had never heard a voice so…. erotic. It’s not that the song itself was sexy or whatever, but there was something about that voice that made him….

'Ah.’

“Damn.” Mikhail cursed when he looked down to check his pants. “Almost.”

Mikhail heaved a deep breath to calm himself down.

'Charles Archer, was it?’

Ever since then, he became a fan of Archer. He kept this interest a secret from his colleagues; he didn’t want to hear their ribbing. He supported the singer the best he could and eventually, an opportunity arised for him to meet Archer at last.

He took a day off and even disguised himself to look as normal and harmless as possible for a man of his stature. Of course, he got his hands on a backstage pass. It wasn’t difficult to get for someone like him. He asked the staff if it was possible for him to meet the singer before the concert, because despite having taken a day off for today, Mikhail was concerned he would have to cut his holiday short. What if there was an emergency at work halfway through the concert? No, he’ll make use of this backstage pass, he would make sure he wouldn’t leave this place without meeting Archer.

At least, that’s what he thought before hearing his voice.

They were separated by the door he was about to open, but he could clearly hear an angel from behind this flimsy slab of wood. Mikhail knew from Archer’s instagram story yesterday that he was singing a song from an animated movie he just watched and he really loved it. Archer sung the song slowly, gently, as if lulling a child to sleep, and yet it did not lose its cheer.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas With never a fear of drowning And gladly ride the waves of life If you would marry me,

"No scorching sun nor freezing cold Will stop me on my journey If you will promise me your heart And love me for eternity,”

Oh. Oh. Mikhail covered his mouth with his hand, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. The staff were buzzing around in preparation for the concert, but all he could hear was Archer’s voice.

“I have no use for rings of gold I care not for your poetry I only want your hand to hold I only want you near me,”

His hands were trembling–from what, he wasn’t sure. It was as if he had no control over his body. He felt parched, but at the same time, while listening to Archer, he felt so good. The best ever, after all these years. Like he was floating, higher and higher, Archer leading him by the hands, and Mikhail did not feel a shred of fear of falling.

“To love and kiss to sweetly hold For the dancing and the dreaming Through all life’s sorrows and delights I’ll keep your laugh beside me,

"I’ll swim and sail on savage seas With never a fear of drowning I’d gladly ride the waves so white If you will marry me!”

The heart he thought that had gone cold was reminding Mikhail of its presence when he heard the loud beating, as if his heart were right next his ears. His body seemed to throb achingly along with every beat.

Mikhail was brought back to earth when he felt the vibrating of his phone. It was the right decision to use the backstage pass early. He had to go back now.

'Meeting Archer will have to be moved. Again.’ Mikhail thought, changing out of the disguise in his car.

He was pissed that his work disturbed his time with Archer. Mikhail knew that after today, it wouldn’t be enough for him to just listen to his voice from a recording. He was being greedy, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. After hearing his voice in real life, after almost seeing those mesmerizing scarlet eyes for himself, after being so close to meeting the reason he’s been sleeping well these past few months,

How could it be held against him to want more?

Mikhail had been mulling over this for a long time, but now he finally had the resolve to do so. He had enough power, he could do it.

Mikhail wanted to be with Archer.

But first, he had to go to Archer’s world.

—–

“I only want one person to play Abel.” Mikhail demanded.

The director raised an eyebrow, meeting Mikhail’s glare with a steady gaze. “I chose you because you’re a perfect fit for the role of Emilio, even though you’re a complete rookie.” Milo went back to looking at applicants for the role. “You’re in no place to make demands.” Milo retorted, disregarding the fact that Mikhail was the drama’s biggest sponsor. From the short time he’s known the man, he knew Mikhail wasn’t so unreasonable that he thought the world should bow to his whims because of money. However, he did have no qualms in using to his advantage the fear of people towards him due to the rumors of his ties to a gang.

“Archer. Archer Charles.” Mikhail took a drag of his cigarette, rudely blowing smoke to Milo’s direction, although they were on either ends of a long table so Milo didn’t mind.

Milo paused. The name that Mikhail said just so happened to be the one he was currently looking at. 'He looks…. good. A singer? Hmm.’ Archer was the one who had everything Milo was looking for in Abel. But he didn’t want to indulge that brat. He wouldn’t admit out loud that the one Mikhail recommended looked fit for the role.

“We’ll see in the auditions,” is what Milo finally said. “let them all act out a scene with you. The chosen actor for Abel should have good chemistry with Emilio’s actor.”

In contrast to what Milo predicted, Mikhail’s eyes gleamed, a slight smirk on his lips as he scoffed, “Chemistry? I’ll show you chemistry. Careful not to burn your pretty boy face,”

Milo smiled sweetly. “My my, how thoughtful of you.”

Mikhail held his cigarette in one hand, using the other to flip the director off. Milo mentally laughed at his juvenile response.

After three candidates, it was finally Archer’s turn. From the moment he entered the room, he brought with him a soothing aura and such a genuine smile that they couldn’t help but return the smile, easing the atmosphere in the room. From the corner of his eyes, Milo knew that Mikhail’s gaze never left the singer.

“You’re not being very subtle, you know?” Milo teased lowly.

“Mind your own damn business, pretty boy.” Mikhail would have snarled, but his eyes were still trained on the angelic singer in front of them, and he didn’t seem to be capable of showing a bad face in the presence of Abel. There was no way Archer couldn’t notice it, so Milo admired the way Archer didn’t seem to mind. That in itself already won him plus points; despite Mikhail’s unconcealed disinterest, the other candidates were still visibly nervous because of him. Regardless of what Archer thought of Mikhail, he didn’t outwardly show it.

Milo asked them to do two scenes–the first was a very short, simple scene compared to the others: Emilio coming home after two days and Abel comforting his touch-starved husband.

The scriptwriter was already losing her mind, soundlessly slapping the producer beside her. She spoke in a tone that was between a whisper and a squeal, “Oh my god, oh my god. They’re so perf I cannot even. They’re like, they’re like, so good together. Archer looks so soft and warm and white like rice, Mikhail is a mouth-watering dish, and together they make a complete meal!”

The second scene was not so innocent. To see how well they’d work together ad lib, they were not given any lines, just a scenario.

Abel in heat, in need of his alpha.

The judges watched, engrossed in the scene played out by the two. Archer’s wet, glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, panting and whimpering as he stared up at Mikhail, wordlessly pleading to be held. Mikhail, rigid for all but three seconds, scooped him into his arms, his unveiled desire lacing his husky voice and the almost feral look in his eyes. “I got you, babe.”

Archer went limp in his embrace, letting his whole weight be carried by Mikhail, arms reaching up to hug his neck. He rubbed his cheek against Mikhail’s neck, bare skin on bare skin, and let the words breathily escape from his mouth: “Please, dear, please, hmmm….”

At this point, the scriptwriter couldn’t hold her shrieking anymore, and so the spell was broken; Archer moved five steps away from Mikhail, who looked terribly displeased at the disturbance. “You got it! Oh honey, you’re perfect!” She stood up from her seat and enthusiastically gushed about the chemistry between the two.

The producer tugged her sleeve and reminded, “We have yet to discuss it together, keep your crazy down.” It is notable though, that the producer did not refute her words.

“Fine, let’s talk about it now. What does director think?” she turned to ask Milo.

Milo didn’t reply to her. Instead, he looked at Archer with a welcoming smile. “We start shooting next month, please call your manager in and we’ll discuss in more detail.”

The moment the cameras were rolling–no, even if they were off, sparks would still fly, that much the judges could tell. They were so perfect for the roles, they even pulled off not being cringy or awkward despite being relatively new to the acting business. It was because they complemented each other, both as themselves and the characters they portray.

Granted, Mikhail played favorites and didn’t do his best with the others trying out for the role, but what he had with Archer…. was unique. Together they were like a flame. They made anyone watching them feel like moths unable to look away from the bright and warm light, and anyone who gets too close will burn. Milo knew he struck gold with these two.

Milo looked at the innocent Archer and the devilish Mikhail. 'Poor kid. He’s not letting you go.’ Milo mentally smiled mischievously. 'Oh well, this will be fun to watch.’

—–

Bonus:

Archer, alone in a room: w h y, he was so cool, I was so flustered I couldn’t even look him in the eye, I’m so lame aaaaaahhhhh

—–

“I love it when you sing for me,” Mikhail says, his fingers tracing random patterns on his wife’s chest. “Even better when I make you sing.”

Archer shot an amused glance at his fiance, catching the man’s wandering hand on his chest because it was starting to tickle and make him shiver, and he was not about to be led into another round. Archer is determined to stand his ground this time, not to be affected by Mikhail’s seduction. It was his own stubbornness really, because it was so frustrating that he was the only one who always got flustered and unraveled.

But he has yet to learn his lesson, since he naively asked, “What’s the difference?”

Mikhail softly nips at Archer’s exposed collarbone, and Archer all but melts into a puddle when his irritatingly charming husband-to-be whispers, Mikhail’s lips against the helix of his ear: “Let’s find out, hm?”

Archer thinks to himself, 'Whatever, it’s not like he’s bad at it.’ When Archer has these kinds of thoughts, he feels even more embarrassed, and takes it out on Mikhail, the bad influence, by biting whatever part of his body Archer can reach at the moment.

And years after, as Archer reads a book on the large sofa while Mikhail naps with his head on Archer’s thicc lap, he realizes something about his husband.

Mikhail had the power to make Archer’s knees tremble in the most delightful way. He could make Archer reach the limits of his vocal range as they exercised. He could crumble Archer with a single, rare smile–a genuine smile, not a teasing grin or a provocative smirk, not that they don’t make him feel butterflies all the same.

But Archer, it belatedly dawned on him who made Mikhail that way. Archer roused the fire in Mikhail, made it hungry for him, made it want him. Archer didn’t just see it–he heard it, he felt it. Everyday, Mikhail would kiss him. He was not shy to say 'I love you’ contrary to everyone else’s expectations; he would hug Archer’s waist, bury his head on the crook of Archer’s neck, and mutter, 'I missed you’ or 'Come home soon’ when either of them became bogged with a packed schedule. Archer didn’t even know if Mikhail was conscious that he makes puppy dog eyes when doing those gestures.

Archer makes Mikhail melt.

He was notorious in the industry for the rumors of his ties to the yakuza, and it didn’t help that he looked the part and always answered ambiguously when asked. There was no media coverage about their tying the knot, perhaps thanks to Mikhail’s interference, but the people in their industry know. Most, who have never seen or worked with them together, didn’t believe it would last. They had even been worried about Archer getting hurt.

Hurt? By this defenseless, naughty, loving man?

Archer’s nails dug into the skin of his hands and assured them that his husband was not that kind of man. He smiled, but deep inside he was angry. Angry at them, but also at himself. Because once upon a time, he was scared of Mikhail too. Scared of him because of the rumors, scared of him because of his daunting build, scared of how easily Mikhail could break him, scared of how, despite all that, Mikhail was still so attractive in his eyes.

But Mikhail was gentle. Yes he was teasing and lewd, but he was always so sweet, so caring. Mikhail would cup his hands on Archer’s cheeks, staring in entertainment at how he made him blush, then kiss his pouting lips several times. And then, Mikhail would smile. His eyes curved, whatever harshness on his face melted away.

Archer still remembers the day he said yes.

Mikhail had never looked as nervous, then dumbfounded, then jubilant in a span of a minute. Mikhail grabbed him into a hug and spun him around, bursting with an unrestrained, happy laugh. If others saw Mikhail then, they would probably be weirded out and think he’s on some sort of drugs. He was never so positively expressive outside of acting out his role, and even then, most of them were directed at Archer. For Archer, it wasn’t strange at all. Mikhail slowly opens up to him for each day they are together, in the more frequent smiles, in the stories of his tattoos and the scars underneath. He knew Mikhail was only like that in front of him, and he felt so childish for feeling proud of it.

Mikhail put him back on his feet, arms still around his waist. They were forehead to forehead, eyes focused on the other pair, and Mikhail swore, “I’ll be good to you forever,”

Archer smiled. He had half the mind to think, 'Oh, he was a forever man. Such a romantic.’ He said, “I know. I’ll be good to you forever too,”

Archer ingrained in his memories the look of absolute joy and love on Mikhail.

Mikhail stirred from his nap. “Um…. hey.” the man blinked a couple of times. “Did you eat yet? Sorry, just wake me up next time.”

“It’s too early to eat, dear, it’s only been an hour. You came home in the morning, you should catch up on your sleep.” Mikhail always rushed home after an out of town job, unmindful of the jetlag and exhaustion that would follow.

“Yeah,” there was still sleep in Mikhail’s tone. Archer knew he would go back to sleep if he just closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you close your eyes?” At this point in their relationship, Archer was aware that Mikhail liked being spoiled, and he liked it even more when he could flirt like this with Archer.

“I want my goodnight kiss.” Mikhail said righteously.

Archer chuckled and bent down to place a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips.

He put a hand on Mikhail’s forehead, brushing away the stray strands of hair. “There, now go to sleep, dear.”

Mikhail hummed, evidently pleased, and obediently followed his wife’s demand.

As for whether Archer stole a kiss from his handsome sleeping husband, and whether Mikhail was actually asleep, that would be a secret they’d keep to themselves.

——

((A/N:

Q: If Mikhail is so tired since he rushed home, why are they resting on the sofa? Isn’t the bed more comfy?

A: The bed is broken. They have yet to buy a new bed because Abel wants Mikhail to learn to be more restrained. Mikhail is okay with it, since this time, he is thinking of testing the durability of the sofa, the table, the bathtub….))

Bonus:

Preparing for the wedding.

Archer: Dear, do you think I should wear a suit, or a gown?

Mikhail: Doesn’t matter.

Archer: ( • ^ • ) ?

Mikhail: I’ll be taking it off anway. ( =-= ) ✧

Archer: *sighs* I should’ve known. (〃 - 〃)

Mikhail: Wear whatever’s comfortable for you. You look beautiful in anything, even in nothing. Especially in nothing.

Archer: Mikhail! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ꇴ⁄<⁄ ⁄) … . *whispers* You too.

[randombtsprincessa]

Backstage Passes

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Seokjin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 6k-ish

Genre: Smut

Summary: Your meeting with the lead singer of Bulletproof ends with a night of frolicking!

Warning: Kim Seokjin (I know what I’m about guys), Reckless behaviour on Subway platforms, Heavy debts and study loads, Inebriation, Dirty Talk, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Jin’s usual narcissism, protected sex, A very *big* male member, Sexual themes, Surprise orgasms, just Jin being a lil’ shit.

A/N: I would like to thank @floralseokjin for Jin’s dick ;)

You were late.

Normally the hustle on the steps of the subway wouldn’t bother you as much, but today was one of those days. What with the bills pouring in and the stress of your degree bearing in, you had decided to sleep in for one day. That one day, your professor decided to hold a thesis meeting.

In short, you were now rushing through pressing crowds to hopefully catch a train that would get you to the campus in time.

You knew you shouldn’t have moved out from the apartment you shared with another student on campus, but you couldn’t stand the pounding of her headboard against your shared wall any longer. The awkward silences the next morning which let you both know that you could hear her vile screams every other night just weren’t worth it.

Finally emerging on the very edge of the platform, you leant in recklessly, looking both ways for whatever train went the direction you wanted it to.

“Hey, do you have a death wish?”

You turned to see a man right behind you, one hand reaching forward as if he was going to pull you back.

You shifted back into the safety of the yellow strip.

“I’m sorry?”

The man grimaced, or so you assumed from what you could see of his face that was revealed over the thick black face mask and even thicker scarf wrapped around his head. Eyes darting down to the yellow strip and then your feet, he waved a hand at the nonexistent distance between them.

“You could’ve gotten hurt falling in, died maybe. What else am I supposed to think?”

You clicked your tongue at the thoughtful stranger.

“I’m just in a hurry.” You tried hard not to sound snappish. After all, he wasn’t wrong; you were just not in the greatest mood.

“In a hurry to die?”

“I don’t want to die; I’m just late for a meeting.”

It didn’t strike you that maybe you could’ve just thanked him and moved places, somewhere farther away where he wouldn’t catch you doing it again. But the man was conversational and you were on a roll.

“I decide to sleep in for one day and my douche of a professor called in a meeting which he should’ve called a month ago. It’s really not my best day.”

The man, dark inquisitive eyes glinting under the stark lights allowed you to regale him with the woes of your life before you stopped, realizing that not only were you pouring out your life to a complete stranger, there were also other people around listening, some looking irritated at your chatter and others blatantly staring at you in interest.

Heat rising in your cheeks despite the high collar of your coat, you turned away from the prying eyes, his and others.

“Sorry,” you grunted.

You had only decided to pull your phone and headphone out to drown your embarrassment in music when you felt a hand on your elbow.

You turned in alarm to see it was the stranger again, hand curved around your elbow to tug you gently back, almost into him.

“I would just feel a lot better if you weren’t across that line.” He said and you wondered if it was sarcasm or genuine concern in his voice.

You blinked slowly up at him before nodding, trying not to acknowledge the slight tug in the gut you’d felt in your stomach due to his proximity.

You’re just lonely. You haven’t had someone show you this much sympathy in a while, especially a stranger. Get a grip.

Finally – finally when the train arrived, you were the first to board it, thankfully noting that not a lot of people were getting on the commercial way of getting to the university grounds. Aside from the ones already there, you’d have a chance of hopefully crashing at your friend’s place.

You glanced up when you spotted a familiar black clad figure sit beside you, worryingly looking at the ‘thoughtful’ stranger.

“Are you following me?” you blurted out.

You didn’t have to wait for the man to turn to know he had raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you ask?” he asked.

The question threw you. You might have expected an offended rebuttal; you didn’t know why he had gone with simpler words, posing a more complex question.

“I…well,”

“Don’t worry I’m not, I have to get to the university grounds as well. I have something to do.” He said.

“Oh,” you looked down to your hands, feeling silly. “Sorry,”

“It’s fine.”

You turned your head but found yourself looking to the reflection of the man sitting beside you time to time. He had removed the mask and scarf a little time into the journey and you had to say you gaped.

He was pretty.

He wasn’t just handsome in the conventional way, with the sweep of his elegant nose and plump pillow lips, he was gorgeous. A mass of black hair fell around his face, his fingers brushing the bangs back.

“So, what year are you in?” he questioned, almost as if he could feel your intense examination of his features.

“Oh, I,” you paused as he turned to you with a smile.

“We might as well pass the time somehow.” He explained gently.

It was probably not smart, the way you spilled further.

You weren’t a normally chatty person, but the way the man kept his eyes on you, waiting for you to go on further was a spur. You spilled everything.

As long as he didn’t know your name, you were fine right…?

At the university stop, as you filed out, the beautiful stranger behind you, muttering about how he had to go but he hoped he might run into you again, you realized that you hadn’t gotten his name in return.

Maybe that was for the best, you parting ways in mystery just the way you met.

You stared in non comprehension at your best friend, squealing as she jumped about her room.

You had learnt a long time ago to allow Siyeon her frivolities; her rich background making it easy for her to stay bubbly and stable while you sunk lower each day.

“Stop,” you finally sighed. “What are you on about?”

Siyeon stopped talking, her keen eyes flickering to you in concern. “What’s wrong with you? You look dead on your feet.”

You glanced away, mumbling something about deadlines before looking up at her again.

“What are you so excited about?”

“Didn’t you hear me scream? Bulletproof is visiting the campus today! They’re going to perform at Hoseok’s café.”

You nodded listlessly, interest fading soon.

Bulletproof was one of Siyeon’s guilty pleasures. She’d found their debut song on Sound Cloud, claiming it was her Nirvana and she’d religiously followed the underground band since. You’d seen her sporting their songs and flaunting their deeper lyrics on her notebooks but you had never actively pursued her mania with them.

After all, she was bound to move on sooner or later.

You wondered if their tour on your campus meant the beginning of another one of Siyeon’s obsessions while the one with Bulletproof subsided, now that she could see them in person.

“…Hoseok sent me exclusive tickets, two of them! So naturally, I told them I would bring you…”

You jerked your head up from your textbook.

“You did what?” you grunted in irritation.

Siyeon sighed.

“Y/N, we both know you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for way too long, you need to get out.”

“I can’t get out. I don’t have the money to afford both an outing and my electricity bill.” You reminded her. You were being crushed under debt and while you appreciated the offer, you’d rather not.

“Well, you don’t have to pay for this one, I already did it.” Siyeon said, flopping down next to you on her plush bed.

“Siyeon, you didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled.

“Hey, if I want to take my best friend to a band show, I can, okay? Stop whining and pick something out from my closet.” She was already up before she finished her sentence, throwing open her closet doors to display her vibrant selection of clothing.

Smiling a little at her over enthusiasm as she reminded you that you had exactly two hours to get ready, you closed your textbook.

Maybe one night out wouldn’t be so bad.

The café; normally decked out in shades of comfortable browns and creams had undergone a stunning change.

Deep reds, bold patterns and black draped over the surfaces, a small platform set up near the back beside the counter.

“They are the band colors and sigils,” Siyeon let you know as you trudged past the decorations, earlier than other patrons and made your way to where Hoseok, your friend and owner of the café was lifting beer bottle crates to the back of the counter.

“Girls,” he mumbled, counting heads of the bottles, “you’re early.”

“I know! I wanted to get the best places!” Siyeon gushed while you stifled a yawn. You were so going to bed as soon as this was over.

“Siyeon, it’s a ticket based show. You’d get the first stand anyway.” Hoseok reminded her but there was nothing that could’ve made your friend dim. She was giggly and skipped where she stood.

You studied your friend; maybe the band really was good.

You helped Hoseok carry out a few errands in the café until the time of the show, when he waved you away just as Siyeon arrived, her hand clawing at yours to drag you to the very front of the stage.

Not a lot of people had shown up, considering it was a concert show but the café was fuller than you had ever seen it.

Your sides pressed against the people who were clamoring to get to the stage as well, who probably listened to the band. Siyeon won the battle though as you both emerged, triumphant just as the curtain fluttered, signaling movement backstage.

“It’d be so cool to meet them after this. I got the special VIP passes from Hoseok.” Siyeon muttered into your ear.

You grinned at your friend as lights fell and Siyeon fell silent beside you, finally finding some peace.

It was a band of six members; you counted, watching them take their respective positions and instruments. What you found strange was that each of them had a hood of some thick material on.

You watched as the tallest man raised his hands to the microphone while Hoseok pulled out a megaphone from the counter, announcing the band.

“That’s the key, their bulletproof hoods. It means they are faceless guardians of their fans.”

“Deep,” you returned, clapping politely as the café broke into applause, signaling the band to reach up and pull off their hoods in synchrony, the last member, at the microphone doing it slower and more dramatic that the others.

Your clapping stopped immediately.

It was your stranger!

The tallest man standing right at the front of your best friend’s favorite band was the kind man who had decided to pull you away from a reckless position and listened to your ranting when he had zero obligations to.

You slowly lowered your hands and your head, trying to duck back into the crowds. Siyeon’s hand immediately gripped onto you.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting her to get suspicious as your stranger spoke up.

“Hey Armors! How are we tonight?” he crowed, amid hoots and screams of replies. The man at the drums, with muscles bulging through his sleeveless vest raised his stick to show a cut and the crowds went silent as the opening strums of a guitar, played by a smaller man flowed through the café.

By the time the second song finished, you had to admit to yourself, they were very good.

The angst in their voice, bled into the surroundings while the passion of the more upbeat songs even lifted you enough to bounce just a bit.

Siyeon cast you a sly grin. “Knew you’d like them, you just had to listen.” She said.

You ignored her, choosing to focus on the lead singer of the band, your stranger.

His hair was even messier now, probably artistic disruption, and his face mask and scarf was completely gone, leaving him in a tight black full sleeve with small rips revealing hints of creamy skin.

His eyes were closed as he hit a high pitch with enviable ease and spun the microphone in his hand, the words of the hypnotic effect of vice passing through your ears like cotton candy from his silver voice.

You were hypnotized alright and you had no confusion as to what vice it was for.

The man tapped his foot at the start of the drum sequence, the plush lips turning up in a broad smile as he looked to the audience and met your eyes.

You stilled immediately, finding yourself stuck to the ground as his eyes widened in recognition before crinkling as his smile intensified.

He waved. He actually waved; a small flutter of his fingers around the stand, easily mistakable for a simple gesture but you knew it was meant for you.

You smiled back politely, nodding as he resumed singing, but his eyes drew to yours more often now.

You had no reason to, but you absolutely blushed and you more than liked it.

The concert reached its end well past midnight, with Siyeon convincing you to spend the night at hers when she spoke up.

“So, I noticed you and Kim Seokjin having a moment during the show.” She said.

You slowed in your steps. “Seokjin,” you questioned.

She nodded. “The lead singer, he was eyeing you up and I saw you smile up at him.” she said.

I shrugged, filing away the name, “It was just some meaningless interaction, nothing more.” You told her as she led you to the office at the back of the café, repurposed to serve as a backstage for Bulletproof.

She knocked on the door and Hoseok opened it. “You are the only ones,” he advised, pulling the door open wider to let you and Siyeon in, “Don’t annoy them too much Siyeon.” He warned, earning an indignant smack from her which he dodged.

“Guys, this is Siyeon and Y/N.” he pointed you out. “Siyeon’s the one begging for your show here, huge fan. Y/N’s our best friend.” He said walking to the six boys who nodded to you.

“Hey, I’m Jimin, the prettiest of the group.” The shorter boy with the acoustic guitar spoke up, earning eye rolls from the rest.

“Yeah, right,” the taller one beside him said.

You watched as Siyeon went up to each member, quickly getting surrounded by the members as your own eyes went to the far corner, finding dark eyes already on you.

A shock of thrill went through you as Kim Seokjin peeled himself from the wall and joined you in your corner.

“Y/N,” Seokjin greeted you with a nod.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin,” you replied, feeling a smile bloom across your face as his own broke out.

“Found out about me, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Siyeon is a huge fan,” you explained and he nodded again, both of you watching your friend mingle easily with his members.

���What about you?” he asked curiously.

You shrugged.

“I’ve heard a few of your songs but my life hasn’t been exactly affording me to pursue any hobbies or obsessions.” You reminded him.

Seokjin smirked a little at that.

“Are we worthy of being your obsession, Miss Y/N?” he whispered.

You blinked, turning to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you?

“Well, you were pretty…good up there.” You said, trying not to acknowledge the heat flaring in your neck.

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked like he was going to say something else when a hoot went through the group near you.

“Y/N! The boys are taking us for drinks!” Siyeon called and her eyes squinted when she saw you standing with Seokjin before her pursed lips quivered; the tell-tales of a grin threatening on her face.

She’s probably planning your wedding already; your mind told you and looked shyly up at Seokjin.

“Oyo, Jin! You in?” The man who had sassed Jimin earlier called.

You felt Seokjin nudge you a little as he raised a hand to mime ‘ok’ with his fingers.

The small bar the band took you, Siyeon and Hoseok to, was small and quaint, just like them, the tall one who you found out was Taehyung, explaining to you that this was the place where they had started performing from.

It had a special place in their hearts.

Your friends had quickly blended in with the setting of the hyped band, ordering their drinks as stories were swapped and they divulged about how Namjoon, the lyricist was friends with Hoseok from their school days.

Seokjin stuck close to you, keeping the story of your meeting him under careful wraps. You had to thank him for that later, there was no way Siyeon would let you live peacefully if she found out the circumstances of your and Seokjin’s first meet.

“I can feel you trying to back out. Are you ok?” He asked suddenly, making you jump a little.

You smiled as you turned to him. “I’m fine, Seokjin. I just had a long day today.” Your words were heavy with implication and despite himself Seokjin grinned mischievously. “I hope you’re not going to be leaning over any subway platforms?” he lowered his voice a little.

You shivered a little from the sudden change in the timbre of his voice.

“I’m not. Siyeon is making me stay with her so for the time being, I’m safe from the threat of accidental deaths.” You told him.

Seokjin nodded, backing away a little as you and him turned away from the conversation completely, the bubble you were in with him seeming way more inviting.

“I was surprised you were in the crowds today. I didn’t think you were a fan when you didn’t scream so I was even more surprised to see you visited us backstage.” He said.

You nodded to Siyeon’s bobbing head. “She’s the reason I was there at all. She literally adores you lot. Plus she doesn’t like me being alone so she keeps dragging me everywhere.” You shook your head fondly.

“I’m glad. I’m happy that you kept her company.” He said, eyes intense again as he stared at you.

You bite your lip, eyeing him right back.

“I’m glad as well; you’re one intriguing man, Seokjin.”

“Jin,” he corrected gently, raising a finger to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear, “How is that?”

You leant in dangerously close, his eyes sparking just a little at your proximity. “You listen. Your songs are a reflection of what you’ve all heard in your lives and it’s so precious that you consider yourselves guardians. Not a lot of musicians do that.” You whispered.

Jin turned his head, taking a swig from the beer bottle and your eyes were drawn to the way his lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle, pressing and pulling against each other.

You clenched your fist tight. What else could he do with that mouth?

Jin glanced at you with a smile as if he knew exactly what were you thinking.

“I’d be happy to show you.”

You froze, had you fucking spoken out loud?

You spluttered around the pathetic excuse you were about to offer when he turned to you fully, a hand pressing to the other side so that he was basically caging you in. His head dipped so he could look you fully in the eyes, tongue sneaking out to lick at the plush petals of his lips.

“Y/N,” he spoke, low and urgent, “I don’t usually do this, but…do you want to get out of here? Go back to my place, maybe? I promise to get you back tomorrow.” He said.

You gaped up at him, the bold proposal processing slowly in your mind.

Did he actually just? Yes, he did. You glanced at Siyeon and Hoseok, both too engrossed in their conversation to glance at you.

“You want me to spend the night with you?” you checked in stupidly and Jin grinned cheekily.

“You can do more than that, if you want, but yes.” He teased.

Maybe it was the lowered inhibitions from the intake of the alcohol but you found yourself nodding your head eagerly.

You were surprised by a lot that night.

You were surprised when Siyeon happily let you leave with Seokjin; a man you’d only met that day, only hours before to her knowledge.

You were surprised when Jin chivalrously held open the door of the cab he’d ordered, hand remaining near your thigh for the ride over to his place but never quite touching you under the potential eye of the driver.

What you weren’t surprised by was the fact that even as he led you up his apartment complex, decent but not too large, you’d pressed up against him almost immediately, feeling his warmth through the slits in his clothes, shameless as you ran a palm down the expanse of his chest.

Jin grabbed your wandering hand as it drifted near his abdomen.

“Patience, there are cameras in this.” He warned, darting a cautioning eye towards the dratted red dot and you pouted up at it, Jin almost cooing at the puffy cheeks on you, your lips pursing adorably.

It was pretty obvious what was on your mind and he had full intentions of giving it to you. Despite his cool front, you could tell even he was getting impatient, the way his thumb drummed against the metal walls and his eyes fixed on the digital display of floors, a small crease in between his eyebrows.

“Almost there,” Jin intoned but you had no idea if he was talking to you or just mentally bracing himself when the door opened at last.

The hand Jin had placed against the elevator wall immediately found your back, quickly ushering you out into the hallway and against a wall beside the first door on the right.

You had barely any time to let out a gasp before his mouth was on yours, sloppy and a little off aim as he fumbled through his pockets, trying to kiss you through the search for his house keys.

“Aha,” he said, pulling out a single silver key on a black leather keychain emblazoned with the Band insignia. Sliding an arm around your waist, his other hand slipped the key into the slot, turning it as he opened the door, letting you go in first while he turned a light switch on beside you on the wall.

Jin seemed to press pause as you looked around the living room, viewing his space. It was fairly large but his furniture seemed to be cramped beside all the musical instruments he’d stocked up on.

Various guitars lay near the TV stand, sheet music piled on the coffee table and a rather large keyboard took up most of the sofa.

“Not all of the mess is mine,” Jin chuckled nervously behind you. “The guys find it comfier to just crash here when we work so all their stuff just stays here.”

If you had to be guessing you’d probably bet he was sobering up. Almost all your drunken brazenness had faded off anyway and you wondered if he would regret bringing you here and showing you this.

“I like it.” you told him firmly, turning to face him.

Jin’s face seemed extra youthful in the dim lighting as he stared at you, looking for any signs of deception but smiled broadly when he found none. His eyes quickly went to the sofa as he reached for you, large hands gripping the plush curves of your hips, pulling you tighter to him.

“I would entertain you here but um…bedroom?” he asked, an upward quirk to his lips.

You followed his glance to the preoccupied sofa and grinned, unable to help reaching up and placing a soft kiss to his lips. “Bedroom,” you agreed.

Jin swung your hands between you, leading you to one of the doors in the back. You clearly heard him mutter. “Gonna ask the guys to clean this shit up tomorrow.”

Jin’s bedroom was better.

A soft lamp was on in the corner and there were no instruments here. The dressers were dustless, the closet door shut and the bed looked clean.

“Much better,” he sighed before pulling you further in, his lips finding yours again.

You kissed him back for a few minutes, pulling away when he pushed away. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No,” you said, grabbing his face to tug him in again.

“Thirsty?” he pulled away again.

Shaking your head, he allowed you to kiss his again, pushing him towards his bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

You grunted in annoyance when he pulled away het again.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” he asked and you frowned up at him.

“I would never have come with you if I didn’t want to, now shut up and kiss me.” You gritted your teeth.

“Yes ma’am,” Jin smirked before finally putting his mouth on you, full lips tugging at yours as he sat down, your head hovering over his.

Your hands wandered over his shirt, the tight fabric making it easier for you to trace over his prominent muscles. Jin pulled you onto his lap, his back flexing with the movement as you strategically placed yourself over the slight bulge in his black jeans. Even with the barest of erections you could tell he was big.

You sunk the blunt edge of your teeth into the pillow of his lower lip, even as his hand slid over your ass. He gasped, hand rearing back to place a quick smack to your covered cheek.

“Freaky, are we?” he mumbled, spinning you to lie on the bed, standing up. He walked over to the dresser, bringing back something silvery which he dropped on the bed, pulling off his shirt.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, raking your eyes ravenously down his figure.

He wasn’t disgustingly muscled, the airbrushed ones you saw on gym banners always a turn off. Instead he was smoother, the planes of his body proportionate and begging for a rake of nails.

His stomach seemed to clench as he brought his arms down to slip off the long sleeves, eyes on you.

“Like what you see?” he grinned.

You returned the broad smirk. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I just wouldn’t want to disappoint you to run to the subway again.”

You groaned. “I told you, I was just running late.”

You were sure to be going on a rant again but Seokjin cut you off as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, leaving his pants on as his larger body covered yours.

“You ramble on a lot you know,” he murmured against your lips.

“Then shut me up,” you suggested with a pointed glance downwards and Jin’s eyebrows went up.

“Definitely freaky,” he commended, straightening up and undoing his belt, slipping it out of the loops and dropping it on the floor behind him with a dull clunk.

His fingers made quick work of his button and zipper, letting you barely peak at the band of his underwear.

“Get naked,” he said simply, rolling to the side as he began to shimmy out of the tight pants. You’d have found it funny, the way he sighed and let out tiny grunts as he worked the pants off if you weren’t so focused on getting out of your own clothes.

By the time you were done sliding the silk skirt Siyeon had put on you off your legs, Jin had successfully taken everything off – albeit nearly falling on his face once or twice (thrice), thanks to his pants.

You had been right, he was big, thrillingly so. His large palm wrapped around it gently, tugging and rotating his wrist near the head, a pearl of precum visible as you crawled closer to him.

“Still want me to shut you up?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, chancing a look up at him to see his hooded expression, thick brows furrowed as he carded a hand carefully through your hair with his free hand, turning it at the base so he was clutching a bunch of it. He pulled you to him, an authoritative tug at the base of your head, brandishing his cock near your lips.

You mouthed against the length of sheathed heat, feeling him pulse at the feel of your soft mouth near his head. You avoided the small drip, choosing to press kisses to the skin near the base, flicking a teasing tongue under the shaft. Jin jolted over you, not expecting the sudden move and he smiled dopily at you.

“Don’t fucking tease.” He growled; his face angelic and you obeyed, finally taking over and taking matters into your own hands, literally.

Your hand glided over his skin, the softer friction of your skin making him let out a relieved sigh.

“Lean back,” you ordered, lowering your mouth so you could take the head in your mouth just a few inches in, his glans heavy against your tongue. Jin obeyed, with a whine, strong hands supporting his weight as he stayed balanced on his knees, small jerks of his hips trying to push his length further in your mouth.

He finally succumbed, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to press you further down till you could feel him slipping into the back of your throat. You gagged, saliva pooling from your mouth onto him, dripping down his member before he was letting you go, letting you pull up for air.

A string of drool broke off when you sat back up, prompting you to wipe it off.

You grinned proudly, watching Jin’s expression fade from scrunched to stony again as he pushed you back till your head was on his pillows.

You parted your legs immediately, closing your eyes to calm yourself. It had been a while since you had done this with anyone. What with your studies and your work barely letting you breathe, you had no time for dating or hook ups. You had to thank Siyeon for more than just a night out.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You heard Jin ask quietly.

Your eyes opened, smiling when Jin hefted your leg over his waist, condom on now, bending over you with narrowed eyes. Humor glinted deep within his dark irises.

“Nope, I’m just, trying to remember what to do. It’s been a while.” You joked.

Jin opened his mouth, most likely to comment on your statement but stopped when he realized you were being honest.

“Wait, seriously? It’s been a while? Because basing on how you just blew me, I’d say otherwise.” He said.

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at how he was trying to make you feel better. It was sweet…hilarious but sweet.

“I’m fine, just get in me.” You urged, your hands grabbing his shoulder to pull him further.

“Ok, ok,” he amended, a light smirk visible in the corners of his mouth as he slid home.

Your eyes widened even as he let out a loud grunt, face scrunching again. He was…so big.

“I’ll agree that it’s been a while. You’re so damn tight…and so wet,” Jin placed his hands on either side of your face, eyes closed as he stilled deep within you.

“You’re just inhumanly big.” You retorted but he only took it as a compliment, eyes flickering open as he laughed down at you.

“I am, aren’t I?” He pulled his hips back till only the head remained inside you, pushing back even slower. “Am I the biggest you’ve had?”

His pace didn’t help you at all; your back arching. Jin was hitting all your spots, his slowness ensuring that you knew he was there but that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by pleasure just yet.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I was. You look like you’re going to come already and I haven’t done much at all.” Another drag of his hips…

Jin placed a hand on your naked breast, kneading it as goose bumps rose up on your skin, the barest brush of pleasurable sparks lighting you up.

“I didn’t eat you out, didn’t finger you open, no prep at all but you won’t need any of that will you? My cock is enough, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you whined, hands fisting in your hair as he pulled out once again, this time completely, leaving you bereft and empty.

A keening wail was bubbling at the tip of your tongue, outrage at being left alone boiling in your veins when you felt the edges of his hair tickle the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes flew open, your elbows pushing you up to see Jin’s eyes fixed on you, his plush lips wrapped around your clit, his smirk visible even as he sucked languidly on your engorged nub.

You wanted to scream, especially when Jin winked, offering you a hand to hold near your stomach and the other cupping the underside of your breast, thumb flicking over your peaking nipple in time with his tongue.

Just as suddenly as if had begun, it was over, Jin surfacing in your hazy vision, your juices glistening on his lips.

“Sorry, I was just curious and you didn’t disappoint.” He lowered to kiss you again, his tongue pushing into dance with your. Your legs were feeling too heavy or you would’ve wrapped them around him.

Thankfully, he had the same idea as he reached down for your calf, hiking a leg up around his hip as entered you again, this time with a rough, brutal thrust.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m done with teasing. I wanna feel you creaming on me.” He growled, veins bulging in his neck as he braced a hand near your head while the other wrapped around your cheek, keeping you face to face with him.

Your whines grew louder with each thrust, the bed frame creaking under you with the movement of his bulk.

Jin took full advantage of your opened mouth, a thick thumb slipping past the seal to press down on your tongue, your mouth clamping down on it reflexively.

“Suck on it, baby,” he encouraged and you obeyed, eyeing him as innocently as you could. His eyes examined your expression with something akin to torment.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling the digit out to travel his hand down the length of your body, locating your clit easily as he thumbed the button. That definitely made you scream, a short cry of his name echoing around his room as you felt the ball of pleasure implode in you, shattering your very core. “Don’t look at me like that, Y/N, you’ll make me,”

Jin never got to finish his sentence, his voice stuttering out as he felt you convulse around you so violently that the tight seal around his cocked milked him even before he could stop himself.

He let out a similar yell, head falling back as he tried to cope with the power of the sudden orgasms you both went through.

Lips found his in a sloppy kiss, his head following it down to the pillow you were on; tongues lazy now that you were both boneless.

Jin rolled off of you, his miraculously still hard cock slipping out of you, the condom drenched in your cum.

“Wow that was a new one. I’ve never come without knowing I was going to. Fuck,” Jin dragged a large palm down his face, chortling tiredly.

You stared up at the ceiling, your ragged breaths so loud that Jin actually turned to you in concern. “Y/N…Y/N? Hello, still there?” He brushed back your hair, looking into your listless eyes as you slowly returned to earth, letting him turn your face to his.

“Yeah, yes, I’m just…wow.” You muttered.

Jin laughed openly now, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bet you won’t be thinking of jumping off subway platforms now that you know me.”

“Oh my god, Seokjin!” You groaned in answer.

[foramomentonly]

Nail In My Coffin, Part 2

Part One

Summary: Alex and Kyle are fashion designers on a Next In Fashion style reality show. Michael is their model. Dom/sub elements. Prompt courtesy of @signoraviolettavalery .

Author’s Note: I will most likely be adding more parts to this AU, though not necessarily chronologically. I’ll tag it Malex Fashion AU.

This chapter is unofficially, gleefully titled “Project Fuck Me.” 

Sorry it took longer than expected. After 1.5K words these two still wouldn’t fuck and smut is hard, y’all!

Read on AO3

Alex rarely freaks out, but when he does Kyle is there.

 After his heated exchange with their new model, Alex spirals just a little. They’ve been working towards this goal—creative independence, stability, even a modicum of success—for years. They’ve encountered so many obstacles, some they can never overcome—the show might bill itself as diverse, but the fashion industry as a whole is not, and they’ve both felt the effects of systemic racism on their work and brand. They’ve made personal sacrifices, holed up in their studio so many late nights neglecting partners, work obligations, and family. Alex will never forget that Kyle was in the studio when he got the call saying his father had passed. But Michael’s warm honey eyes and the way his body went liquid under Alex’s touch and command left Alex buzzing down to his fingertips, and he feels a choking weight on his chest at even the thought of denying Michael his attention and care.

He tells all this to Kyle right there at their work station, Kyle again bent over a sewing machine making alterations and Alex leaning casually beside him against the large drafting table, murmuring low. Kyle is blunt and level-headed, as always.

“It’s not ideal,” he admits, “but it isn’t like either of us has never had a fling with someone we were working with before. And you’re nothing if not an expert at compartmentalizing.”

“I thought that was a bad thing,” Alex deadpans.

Kyle shrugs.

“Maybe not in this situation.”

Kyle looks up at Alex fretting, and his eyes go soft. 

“Look, man, I trust you,” he says, “and there is nothing you alone could do to tank this for us.”

Alex doesn’t respond, but the clench of his jaw releases and Kyle can tell the storm has passed.

It helps that Michael kills it on the runway and they easily win the challenge. When they’re asked to choose a model for the next round, Kyle requests Michael without even a glance at his partner.

***

Alex watches Michael from across the studio as he hangs their newest pieces on a rack and arranges accessories. He’s holding court with a few models who just arrived, killing time while their designers finalize alterations and hunt down accent pieces. This week is a streetwear challenge, neither Alex nor Kyle’s strong suits, and Alex created this design—drop leg overall shorts, mesh crop top with a faux turtleneck, military jacket, and combat boots—to play off of Michael’s cocky, easy masculinity. His presence on the runway is built into the design, and Alex has a plan to put Michael in a calm, focused headspace. But first his model needs to get his chatty ass to Alex’s station. 

Alex continues to stare in Michael’s direction until Michael senses his gaze, turning his head slowly over his shoulder. Michael raises a suggestive eyebrow at Alex when he meets Alex’s eye, but the designer merely glares first at Michael, then at the model’s platform set up behind his work station. Michael barely makes an excuse to his group before turning on his heel and striding Alex’s way. Alex puts on his most authoritative face, the one he used in the Air Force when he needed to pull rank, and he watches Michael approach with what can only be described as a giddy swagger, all hips and shoulders, his hands shoved in his front pockets. He skips onto the small platform and smiles down at Alex. They face each other for a long moment, Michael's grin disappearing as he raises a hesitant brow. 

"Clothes," Alex says simply, and Michael's tee shirt is on the ground before Alex can even finish his command. Alex licks his lips, and Michael trips over his boot and almost topples over as he rids himself of his jeans, shoes, and socks.

"Careful," Alex chuckles mildly.

Michael is down to his briefs and he steps forward to take the garments off the rack.

"Stop," Alex spits sharply, and Michael freezes, shuffling back to neutral with his head low. Alex steps into his space, reaching for the clothing.

"It's better if I do it," he says softly, "there’s a lot of layers."

Michael trembles.

Alex takes the main piece off the rack and readies the garment, unfastening the clasps and buttons. He squats at Michael's feet and wraps a hand around his left ankle, encouraging him to lift his foot. Michael responds immediately and Alex guides his left, then right foot into the legs of the pants, rising slowly in front of Michael as he pulls the lower half of the design up his long, lean body. There are buttons on both sides, and Alex fastens them with nimble fingers, eyes boring into Michael's. Michael breathes heavy, uneven, his whole body a live wire. 

"This okay?" Alex asks softly.

Michael blurts out, "Green," and Alex smiles. Traffic light safewords it is.

"Good," Alex breathes, and Michael's eyes go dark.

Alex is surprised how easy it is to find a balance between his work and the scene. Michael responds instantly to Alex's slightest touch, raising his arms when Alex takes his wrists and lifts them into the air, tilting his head back slightly while Alex adjusts the faux collar on his shirt. Alex is only distracted once, caught up in the rhythmic bob of Michael's throat, his Adam's Apple working under the thin fabric. He cups Michael's neck, knuckles brushing his unruly curls, and lays his thumb lightly on the knob, the gentlest pressure. Michael whines. 

"Yellow," he says, and Alex immediately pulls back, looking into Michael's eyes. 

"You've got work to do, Captain," he says simply, and Alex nods, pulling in a deep, steadying breath.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Michael’s breath hitches, eyes bright and proud, and Alex smiles warmly, adds, “So good for me,” just to watch Michael squirm at the praise.

Michael is perfectly pliant the rest of the process, resting his feet one after the other on Alex’s thigh so that he can lace up the intricate boots, eyes never leaving Alex’s face as he stands inches away, smoothing and tugging and adjusting his design on Michael’s body. Alex listens to Michael’s steady breath, glances at his warm, focused gaze, and smiles. 

"All done,” he murmurs, hands on Michael’s shoulders. “Now let's get you pretty, sweetheart." 

Alex slides a warm, dry hand low on the small of Michael's back. He keeps it there, pressure light and steady, all the way to hair and make-up, where Kyle is waiting for them. Michael sits perfectly still as Alex discusses he and Kyle's preferences with the make-up artist, tilting Michael's chin up with a knuckle and running his index finger gently across a cheekbone. The technician is too focused to notice the way Michael gazes up at Alex dreamily, the way he leans into Alex's touch. 

Alex finishes his instructions and she's off, occasionally requesting that Michael turn his head or close his eyes. She misses how Michael grows restless and agitated the more she directs him, but Alex and Kyle don't. Alex lays a casual hand on the back of Michael's neck and squeezes gently, and the gesture seems to soothe him. Kyle looks sideways at Alex, but says nothing.

The designers sign off on Michael’s look and walk him to the runway set’s makeshift backstage, where the other models and designers are exchanging final notes and instructions. Kyle wishes Michael good luck and escapes quickly to the designer’s lounge where they’ll watch the models walk on mounted flatscreens. Alex offers Michael one last steady smile, gaze traveling up and down the length of his model’s body searching for lingering discomfort or distraction after his unease in hair and make-up. He finds none.

“When you’re done showing off for me out there,” Alex says casually, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips, “hang around for a bit. Might as well help you get out of those clothes, too.”

He turns and walks away to the sound of Michael’s breathless, “Please.”

***

The workroom is finally nearly cleared out, only a few straggling models and designers making plans for an after party at the hotel bar. Alex intentionally arranged his, Kyle, and Michael’s post-runway interview to be the last of the evening and hustled Kyle away easily, so no one questions why he and Michael are lingering an hour after filming has wrapped. Michael is still in Alex’s design, his make-up smudged and caked where he perspired under the blazing runway lights and then cooled in the green room during their interview. Alex pulls a wipe out of his bag and passes it over.

“You want to clean up, sweetheart?” Michael gazes at him imploringly, but Alex shakes his head, side-eyeing the lingering group. “I can’t, not yet. You have to do it yourself.”

Michael pouts at a burst of laughter from the stragglers as he wipes his face roughly. Alex bites his lip, stifling a grin; he hadn’t anticipated waiting this long for privacy, but Michael’s sulk is equal parts endearing and arousing. They don’t end up waiting long. Plans arranged, the group finally calls out a lukewarm goodbye to Alex and a more genuine one to Michael, and then they’re gone, the thick double doors of the studio slamming shut behind them. 

Alex immediately steps into Michael’s space, gripping his chin with one hand. He’s managed only to make a mess of his face: mascara streaked across his temples, liner smudged, lips bruised but still glossy. His curls were fluffed and then sprayed for effect, and now they’re chaotic and look rough to the touch. As Alex continues to crowd his space, eyes cataloging his features possessively and Michael’s face firmly in his grasp, Michael’s lips part and his breathing accelerates, pupils dilating. Alex tsks softly in the back of his throat.

“Look at you,” he purs, “so wrecked and I’ve barely touched you.”

“So touch me,” Michael challenges, voice gruff.

Alex lets his thumb travel up Michael’s chin and pull at his full bottom lip. Michael’s mouth drops open farther and Alex slips his thumb in, groaning softly when Michael wraps his tongue around it and sucks greedily. He’s so turned on, the low, hot pulse of control he’s felt all day ramped up by his own desire for this impossibly gorgeous man. But for all that Michael seems eager to take things further, Alex is desperate to check in. He pull his thumb out gently and cups Michael’s cheek, leaving a trail of wet across the side of his mouth.

“Color?” he asks, and then, “How far do you want this to go? Be specific.”

“Green,” Michael says, “so green. And I want you to fuck me. Captain.”

Alex lets out a ragged breath, pushes his fingers into the crunchy curls at the nape of Michael’s neck, and drags him into a kiss. It isn’t gentle or timid; it’s starting in the middle, all teeth and tongue and hot breath. Michael shoves his hands under Alex’s shirt to feel his overheated skin and the twist of muscle as he moves, dragging biting nails down his back. Alex holds him in place, setting the pace of the kiss, but letting Michael play. He pulls away when Michael maneuvers himself between Alex’s thigh and grinds his hard cock against him. 

“Nuh uh,” Alex says, “we’re not there yet.”

He steps back fully and Michael whines.

“I promised I’d help you out of those clothes,” he teases. “Have you changed your mind?”

Michael shakes his head.

“All right then,” Alex says, “stay still for me. I’ll do all the work.”

Alex circles him, considering his options and dragging it out a little. He finally comes behind Michael and slips the jacket off his shoulders, close enough to bite down on the meat of his left shoulder and neck with his teeth. Michael hisses and he soothes the bite with a wet kiss.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Alex whispers, breath hot against his ear, “I got you.”

He undresses Michael maddeningly slowly, teasing him relentlessly. He glides his finger tips up Michael’s ribs as he rids him of his shirt, traces his collar bone with soft, parted lips as he unclasps the bib of his overalls. Once Michael’s chest is bare, he places hot, wet kisses down the broad expanse of it, stopping to suck and bite at each nipple. Michael whimpers and when Alex looks up he sees his bottom lip is bitten swollen and red, but he stays perfectly still.

“So good for me,” Alex breathes, unhooking the final buttons and pushing the shorts down Michael’s body to pool at his feet, taking his briefs with them. With Michael’s hard, lithe body finally bare before him he feels lightheaded. Alex leans in and kisses him again, hands low on Michael’s hips, stealing the oxygen straight from his lungs. His hand sinks lower and he palms Michael’s right cheek, index finger slipping down his crack to press against his dry hole. Michael gasps and bucks, pressing himself against Alex’s hand. Alex lets himself explore, circling and rubbing the tight muscle, sliding even lower to press at his perineum. Michael’s cock is leaking, pre-cum staining Alex’s jeans.

“Alex,” Michael groans, and hearing his name sends a rush of heat straight to his cock.

“Bend over the table, sweetheart.” 

His command is breathless, but Michael obeys instantly, scrambling around Alex and draping himself over the large drafting table, forehead pillowed by his forearm. Alex grabs the small bottle of lube and condom from his bag and presses himself flush against Michael, the rough fabric of his jeans scratching against Michael’s bare ass and legs. He sets the condom on the table and pops the top on the lube, coating a single finger and pressing and rubbing between Michael’s spread cheeks. He takes his time, working his finger in up to the first knuckle, then the second, until he’s pumping the whole digit in and out slowly, pressing down as he drags out. Michael’s hips work in time with his finger, and he’s wiggling and huffing restlessly by the time Alex coats another finger and works it in, too. He peppers kisses to Michael’s low back as he works, whispering praises into his damp skin. When he starts scissoring his fingers, spreading Michael’s hole and testing the give, Michael moans.

“Come on,” he huffs, “want you so bad.”

“Want you, too, sweetheart,” Alex breathes, quickly coating a third finger and working all three into Michael’s hole. “You should see yourself right now. Stretched and taking my fingers so well.”

Alex rests his cheek against Michael’s back, sliding deep into him and pressing, searching until he hits the spot that makes Michael cry out.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck.”

“There you are,” Alex smiles and bites gently at Michael’s ass cheek.

“God,” Michael gasps as Alex continues to work that same spot, drunk on Michael’s groans and the way he’s fucking himself on Alex’s hand.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Michael babbles, “I swear. Wanna feel it.”

“Okay,” Alex says, stretching his fingers wide one last time, and pulls out, leaving Michael whining. He finally opens his jeans, tugging them down over his cock and groaning loudly when he’s finally free. His underwear is soaked, and it’s a bit uncomfortable to tuck them beneath his balls, but he’s not ready for the conversation they’d have to have if he took off his pants entirely. He rolls the condom down his cock and slicks himself, rubbing his thumb around Michael’s hole and pressing in to keep him open as he preps himself. He lines himself up, bending over Michael’s back and wrapping an arm around his waist. When he pushes just the head of his cock in, Michael growls and pushes back against him, taking him in fully.

“Shit,” Alex cries, hands gripping Michael’s hips. “Oh, god, I’m not gonna last.”

“Me either,” Michael replies, voice slurred with pleasure. “Please, Alex.”

Alex slides the hand on Michael’s waist down to wrap around his cock, relishing Michael’s hiss and the way he clenches around Alex’s cock. He pumps his hips at the same rhythmic pace as his strips Michael’s cock, his free hand snaking up Michael’s back and into his hair.

“You feel so good,” Alex pants, pausing to grind deep and work his cock against Michael’s prostate. He rolls the head of Michael’s cock in his hand, fingers sticky with pre-cum.

Michael throw his head back and comes without warning, his cock pulsing in Alex’s grip. He’s still and breathing evenly as he comes down, but Alex doesn’t move, kicking himself that can’t see Michael’s face from this angle. He scratches fingernails gently across his scalp and rubs his back soothingly until Michael shifts back, pressing weakly against him where Alex is still inside him.

“Gonna finish what you started?” he mumbled, sounding sated and a little loopy.

“You okay there?” Alex asks with a laugh, caressing Michael’s cheek when he turns his head to look back at him.

“Will be when you come in me, Captain,” he says, and bites at Alex’s palm. Alex huffs and pulls almost completely out, pressing in slowly to test Michael’s sensitivity. He groans, but leans into it, goading Alex on with a soft, “Yeah, come on.”

Alex works back up to a steady pace, but he’s been hard and aching for so long, and Michael is a sight beneath him, hair a mess and back twisted to stare shamelessly at Alex with hazy eyes. His hips snap faster and he loses his rhythm as he chases his own release, digging blunt nails into Michael’s shoulders to hold his loose body steady. He comes with his eyes locked on Michael’s, mouth dropping open and a choked off moan on his lips, working his hips lazily as he shudders through the aftershocks. 

Alex presses his forehead to Michael’s back, kissing the knobs of his spine and pushing his own sweaty hair out of his face. He pulls out slowly, but Michael still hisses, and Alex gets a look at his swollen hole before Michael stands and turns around, pressing his naked body against Alex’s fully clothed one to nuzzle against his neck.

“You were so good,” Alex praises, arms immediately wrapping around Michael, one hand snaking again into his hair, “so good for me.”

Michael laughs against his skin.

“I could tell.” 

Alex’s grip in his hair turns to a tug as he pulls Michael’s head back, and Michael grins smugly. 

“You’re still a mess,” Alex chastises, taking in the make-up still smeared across Michael’s face, the nest of his curls, and the cum beginning to dry on his stomach and chest. 

“I’m your mess now,” Michael says, and though his eyes are bright and playful, his tone is sincere.

“Yeah,” Alex says steadily, brushing a curl out of Michael’s face and watching a genuine smile spread across his face, “you are.”

[yourdreamscenarios]

When you fall asleep together backstage

Characters: Jungkook / OC Genre: fluff Word count: 2,839

Finally able to breath comfortably again in your own clothes you stumbled your way over towards the couch at the other side of the room. Giving a deep sigh you threw yourself on it and popped your head against the wall behind you. It had been a very long day, practicing in the morning, preparing the showcase and performing it later on. Moving your butt up to grab your phone out of the pocket of your jeans you spotted the next group performing on stage at the small tv screen that hang in the corner of the dressing room. For once it was pleasantly quiet inside of here, giving you the chance to let your thoughts run freely without anyone trying to interrupt them. Usually there was always someone around who would try to have a conversation with you. 

One of your own members or staff members, sometimes your friends from other bands if they were around. Even though you had known that today was going to be a tough day, you had been looking forward to it for some time. This was one of the exceptional moments when you’d actually have a showcase together with your boyfriend. Usually the two of you never had the same schedules, leave alone that you could work together at the broadcasts But today seemed to be your lucky day. You had only seen him shortly before your performance, because of mic tests and outfit changes the two of you hadn’t really been able to talk much. 

But you had seen him, and he had smiled and waved at you, giving you that sweet look and that had been all you needed. You hadn’t been able to see much of his performance, being the one that had gone up stage right before him, but you had heard his amazing voice and the loud cheers from the public so you knew he’d done a great job, as always. Opening your Instagram you saw that your company had uploaded a new picture on it’s page, showing the six of you before your performance, when you hadn’t been sweaty yet. That green dress you had been wearing had been uncomfortable to say the least. It had been too short and had been crawling up the entire time while you’d been walking around the stage. 

Several times you’d had to pull it down because it had ridden higher up your thighs with every step. But looking at the picture now, you noticed how well it had suited you, so you couldn’t entirely prove your stylist wrong for choosing it. Being one of the smaller members of the band they thought it was justified for you to wear the shortest dresses. They couldn’t give them to Amber or Samantha, because they were much too tall for them. With your average height, they had picked you as the victim. Not knowing what else to do you liked the picture and read of a few of the comments in the section beside it. Normally you prohibited yourself from doing this, knowing that not all comments written down there were positive or nice. 

After being in the industry for many years now, you couldn’t say that you had those kinds of things had gotten any easier. You did get used to them, but that didn’t mean that those comments couldn’t be like a slap in the face when you saw them. Luckily for you, most of the comments so far were cheerful and supportive, apart from people who always seemed to have something to remark. You flinched when someone dropped themselves on the couch beside you and moved in a skillful way to move their head onto your lap. You blinked, surprised that you hadn’t heard the person coming in at all because you had been too lost in your own thoughts. “Put away the phone and give me some attention.” Jungkook mumbled as he made himself comfortable, stretched openly on the sofa, his arms crossed across his chest. 

You rolled your eyes at his silly behavior, but did what he asked nevertheless. When he was around there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time with him. Putting your phone to the side you looked down on him, studied his face as his eyes beamed up at you, locking with yours. That guy could look at you as if you were the only thing in the room, it made you fluster, every single time. He looked worn out, a small blush covering his cheeks which still showed off the effort he had put in his performance. Even though you and Jungkook had debuted around the same time, he had always been someone you had admired and you had looked up to. Even before you had met him. He’d always been very well known for his hard work and for the way he pushed himself to give the best of what he had. 

He never complained, no matter how hard things got, no matter how tired he was. Sometimes, when he was around you, he dared to drop that mask of endless power he used to wear for the outside, but not always. “You worked hard, you were really good up there, all of you.” You said, trying to break through that professional look he was wearing on his face. Sometimes you wondered if he found it difficult to be himself around others. He wasn’t one who showed his feelings easily, but you knew that underneath that facade were always a million things going on, a million thoughts and emotions. “You did too, although I found your dress a little a lot too short.” His eyebrows disappeared underneath his silky hair and you ruffled it slightly in order to annoy him. Yet, this time he smiled instead before lifting his head and shaking it, making his locks fall back into their original place. 

You should be worrying about the fact that the door was still open and that everyone who passed by could see the two of you. The two of you had been open about your relationship from the very start. The public had seen you growing closer, had expected you to start dating for a while before it happened. So you had never made a secret of it when the two of you had started dating. Still, the two of you could be shy about being seen together, being this cosy in the open. You both had members who didn’t mind teasing you about it. “I’m saying it because I know it makes you uncomfortable.” He remarked, and you shrugged, knowing that what he said was true. He had noticed before. During award shows when your skirt had been too short, or variety shows you attended and you started pulling on your dresses. 

When he’d asked you about it you had easily admitted to him that you hated these short clothes, not because you were insecure about your figure, but because you didn’t want to share everything with the public. Ever since he had reacted very protective about your clothing style, always being the one to make sure you were covered up. Once, fans had gone crazy during an award show you had both attended, when Jungkook had walked over to your seat a few tables in front of him to hand you his jacket so you could cover yourself with it. Fans had screamed so hard that you had both blushed madly, and you would never forget that shy smile on his face as you thanked him. His members made sure he wouldn’t forget about it either. 

Jungkook wasn’t the one who would make lots of movements towards you in public, because you both knew that there were also fans who weren’t supportive of your relationship and that there were people who were hurt by seeing the two of you together. But during the times he felt like he had to stand up for you, he always would, without any hesitation. “Are you busy tomorrow?” He then asked, scuffling a yawn. You let your schedule roll over in your mind as you brought your hand back up towards his hair, letting the soft strands glide across your skin. You could still feel the products in there that were keeping everything in place as you pressed your fingertips against his skull. He sighed softly as his eyes fluttered close, enjoying your comforting touch. 

“I have a shoot in the morning, but I’m free from five o’clock.” You realized, secretly glad that you finally had a free spot in your agenda. You were so busy these days, sometimes you forgot that there were moments you didn’t have to work. Jungkook hummed, and as his eyes opened his pupils widened before focussing on you. “We should hang out, have dinner together. You can come over at the dorms, the hyungs will be excited to see you.” During the times when you hadn’t been busy you had hung out at their place very often, going over to play games and stuff. But due promotions there was always a big chance they weren’t there and there were moments one of you was across the country, or in a different continent. 

The eight of you had a group on WhatsApp, where you kept in touch with each other instead, when you couldn’t meet each other in person. Though, Jungkook referred that you’d message him personally. “Yeah, that would be fun.” You said, stuffed a yawn and looked down to see that he had closed his eyes once again, his expression relaxed. He was probably so tired from his schedule, because you knew that his was even busier than yours. Now that they had broken through across the world the boys were busier than ever, sometimes you wished you could protect him from that. But it was his dream, BTS was his life, so you would always support him in everything he did. “I’ll bring food.” You tried, not sure if he was still awake or not, so you kept your voice low. But his lips curled up into a small smile at your words, and he hummed lazily in the back of his throat, indicating that he’d heard you. 

Twisting your neck to look behind you, you spotted one of the blankets which one of the crew members had put on the back of the couch. Careful so you wouldn’t jolt him you reached out and tugged it down before unfolding it and draping it across your boyfriends frame. He melted into the couch, and his hand sneaked up to catch hold of yours, hugging it against him. You couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face and for a while you just sat there, enjoying this rare but precious moment. The weight of his head on top of your lap was comforting, a sign that he was close. His hand was soft against yours, squeezing just hard enough to make sure that you weren’t able to escape from his grasp without him noticing. Your gaze followed the features of his face, his rounded nose and plump, pink lips. 

His skin was free of any make up, showing the small scar on his left cheek that you had grown to adore. He looked so peaceful as he lay there, as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. You watched as the raising and falling of his chest grew regular and his head dipped slightly to the side. This guy could literally fall asleep anywhere. You sighed softly before resting your head back against the wall and deciding that it couldn’t hurt for you to close your eyes for a bit yourself. You listened to the sounds of people talking in the backgrounds. You had an amazing crew, and they were probably preparing everything to leave at this moment. What would the rest of your members be doing? 

They knew that you’d wanted some alone time with your boyfriend today, but they wouldn’t leave you alone forever. Soon it would be time to leave and they’d come to look for you. Knowing them the way you did, they were probably resting somewhere themselves, enjoying this small amount of time you had before getting back onto the road and getting back to work. There weren’t many days that you dreaded it, because you loved your job, you lived for music. But during times like these, while being together with someone you didn’t actually want to leave, it was hard to want to be anywhere else. “We should probably go look for him, he’s not going to come back himself.” Jimin said as he got up from his seated position and stretched his sore muscles. 

In the corner of the room he could see Namjoon sleeping, knowing he’d be knocked out for a while. But Seokjin nodded at his comment, knowing that their youngest member wasn’t going to leave his girlfriend if he wasn’t forced. They hadn’t been able to fight him when he’d spurted out of the dressing room after changing, he’d been as fast as lightning. Jimin smiled while thinking about it, finding it odd that it was Jungkook who was the first out of all of them to find a girlfriend. Though, their youngest member had always been mature for his age. He found the two of you adorable together, all of the guys did. “Let’s go get him before we leave without him. I’m sure he wouldn’t even mind.” Seokjin muttered as he followed his friend out of the room. It was silent in the halls, most of the bands who had performed tonight were on their way out, preparing for their schedules in the morning. 

A jolt went through him as he realized that they had a calm day planned tomorrow, it had been a while. “Where did they go?” He asked, but Seokjin simply shrugged his shoulders. Knowing the two of you, you could be anywhere. Luckily he knew that Jungkook had been exhausted after today’s schedule, otherwise he would have been scared of what he might find when he figured out where you were. The two of them walked quietly side by side, walking past open and closed doors. When they had almost reached the end of the corridor Seokjin suddenly tugged at his sleeve, a simple smile hugging around his lips. “Am I the only one who is seeing this?” He asked and nodded towards a scene inside of a room. Jimin turned around to check out what he saw and felt his heart melt at the sight in front of him. 

He’d seen the two of you being cute together before, hugging each other back stage, or Jungkook crushing you in his arms. He’d seen the two of you fooling around and making a fuss, but he had never had the honor to see this before. He’d never pictured their youngest one to be the one falling asleep on your lap, he had always thought it to be the other way around. But spotting him laying there, snuggling your hand against himself as if it was some stuffed animal, it made his cheeks hurt from smiling. “They’re so cute when they’re sleeping.” He whispered, and realized that he was almost sad because he had to intrude a moment like this. he knew that Jungkook hated the fact that he barely got the chance to see you. He never really brought it to words, but they could sense it from the way he acted when you were near. 

“It’s the only time they’re ever quiet.” Seokjin said and sighed, even he seemed to feel slightly guilty. “Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Wake up!” It wasn’t necessarily him that was startled by the loud voice that came completely out of nowhere. Everyone knew that he was able to sleep through someone rebuilding his apartment. You, on the other hand, were completely freaked. You jerked awake, your head bumping against the wall as you shot upright. Your movements alerted your boyfriend and he propped himself up on his elbows to see what the hell was going on. “Jesus, you scared me.” You whined, bringing your hand up towards your head to touch the sore spot. The two boys sent you a sheepish smile from the doorway, staying at a safe distance. You tried to calm your fast beating heart as Jungkook kicked the blanket off of himself and sat up beside you. 

“Hyung, seriously?” He muttered, his voice still a little bit hoarse and his eyes still small slits as he tried to wake himself up. The two of them chuckled slightly as they took in his hair that was a mess and his creased shirt. “You never woke up this fast before, seems like she has a good influence on you.” Seokjin said and you could see Jungkook mocking him from where he said. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and saw how he turned his head to look at you before smiling, making your heart flutter. 

BTS Masterlist

[rilojetty]

a haunted man who can't out run his ghosts

Doe Madeira was the same as she had always been.  Short, but loud.  Hands on her hips, sunglasses perched atop her head.  A girl on a mission, and it occurred to Rilo then and there, seeing her from across the venue, that he’d never really known her as anything other than Preston’s.

Why was she here?  That was the real question.  That was the child tugging the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt, nagging him with a query he couldn’t answer.

She was tapping something out on her phone, blowing a pristine bubble with her gum that he could even see from where he was hovering in the wings of the stage.  He did this before every single show.  It didn’t matter how large or small the crowd was, the sheer fact that anybody would ever be here for him was enough to knock him on his ass.

But, for Doe to be here?  Here in Santa Monica, when he knew for all too well of a fact that she was in college on the east coast?  Why?  What was her motive?  Was she alone?  Was he here, too?

Of course he wasn’t.  Preston Raimi was nothing more than a ghost in his hallway at this point.  A glimpse of a past life, a former Rilo that didn’t exist anymore.  He wouldn’t dive under his sheets and find him waiting for him, not anymore.  Not for a long time.

When he was younger, twenty and high on life, Preston was the harbor lights that he always found his way back to.  Warm and comforting, like a much-needed embrace after a long day.  Preston was eighteen, a freshman, and somehow he’d gotten it into his brain that he’d lucked out with getting Rilo to look his way.  If only he could have realized how backwards he’d had it all.

It occurred to him, then, that he didn’t really know Doe.  He knew the Doe from Preston’s stories.  He knew the girl who had flashed her tenth grade English teacher so that Preston could slip late into class undetected.  He knew her as Preston’s first kiss, first time, first love, really – even if Preston would never say those last few words out loud.  And yet, just from looking at her, it was like he’d met her a thousand times before, a thousand lifetimes ago.  Instead, he’d only met her once, right near the end of his and Preston’s romantic residency.

She’d surprised him with a visit, and Rilo was convinced in that moment that he could have been blind as shit and still been able to detect the magnetism that existed between the two of them.  Doe wedged her way between the two of them, staking back her rightful claim as Preston’s person.  Suddenly, she was the one adjusting his hair, the one dragging him this way and that way, and Rilo slipped back into the shadows of his apartment just long enough for them to get reacquainted.

It was during that time that he took another look at the offers he’d been getting in from record labels.  Somewhere between Doe prattling onto Preston about how he had to transfer schools to save her before she dropped out and Preston shuffling awkwardly on his feet as his hand found its way to the small of her back when he didn’t catch Rilo looking his way, Rilo accepted the offer to record a demo with an indie label in Los Angeles.

After that, he and Preston were becoming two ships passing in the night rather than anything else.  He could see the expiration date on their relationship even if Preston was trying to put a sticker over it.  He saw the NYU tabs open on Preston’s phone before Preston could swipe away from them, Preston could see Rilo slipping away from them, spending more time in the studio and less time in the cramped twin-sized bed that was more comfortable than the queen mattress on Rilo’s apartment floor just because it was Preston’s.

“We’ll keep in touch,” Preston was promising against his mouth as April turned to May, as his room became stripped of his Hoodie Allen posters (yes, seriously) and his headphones and stacks of mixtapes that nobody besides Preston still made – replaced with boxes and boxes and more boxes.  “I’ll spend the whole summer making tapes for my rock star boyfriend, writing you love letters and shit.  It’ll be disgusting.”

Preston sounded so hopeful and sure of himself, sure of their chances, that Rilo almost believed him.  Almost, but not quite.

The last time Rilo Jetty saw Preston Raimi was at LAX.  Preston had a beanie of Rilo’s atop his head, damn near chewing a hole into is lip.  Rilo wanted to hate Doe, wanted to hate her with every vein in his body, for taking Preston away from him, for being able to sweet talk Preston into a time zone three hours ahead of his own.  He couldn’t, though, because it wasn’t her fault.  Preston didn’t have to follow her.  No.  No, it wasn’t Preston’s fault, either.  Maybe this was never supposed to be a permanent thing, only temporary.  Rilo was a stamp in Preston’s passport and Preston was a chapter in Rilo’s life story.  God, he wished he didn’t want him to be the whole book.

Preston’s hands slid up to rest on either side of Rilo’s cheeks, and Rilo reciprocated by hugging him tightly around the waist.  “Tell New York to be good to you,” he murmured against Preston’s temple, pressing a kiss there shortly after.

“Tell LA I hate it for getting to have you,” Preston grumbled back, and Rilo could have kissed him a thousand times.  Wished he’d taken him out of that airport and to the cocoon of his apartment.  They could make it their apartment.  He could get Preston signed to the label when he had enough seniority to make that sort of a move.  Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

Preston slipped into airport security, and Rilo followed him until he lost him as the glass window turned to a wall, until he was out of sight.

His best friend, Darcy, would tell him it was just the latest of many fuck-ups he’d accomplished.  Afterwards, she’d pour him a shot – or five – and they’d put on the same shitty Netflix movie they’d watched a thousand times before.  Preston sent pictures from the plane, from the airport, from the ride to his new apartment that Rilo knew better than to ask with whom he’d be sharing it.

“You know, people do long distance relationships all the time and survive them,” Darcy pointed out, looking over at the kicked puppy staring down at his phone, brows furrowed.  “Like, all the time.  There’s, iMessage, and FaceTime, and even that dumbass app that lets you send your heartbeat to another person.  Apple is tailor-made for LDRs.”  She reached into the bowl of Lays, popping a few into her mouth and not waiting to keep going, her words coming through crunches.  “You’ll be fine.”  A beat later, and she was continuing.  “And also, you’re, like, twenty-one.  Calm down.  Stop looking at apartments in New York,” she wrangled the phone away from his house, and he realized that she’d been kidding until she actually saw the tabs open on his phone.

A pat on her shoulder, a gentle, “Oh, buddy,” and then she was back to the movie staring ahead of him – sitting on his phone.

Anyway, that had been a long time ago.  A whole ‘nother Rilo had lived through that first heartbreak than the Rilo standing backstage, looking at Doe Madeira in the crowd.

She wasn’t alone, he quickly noticed.  She was with a tall blonde and a girl with short cropped hair, each of them nursing a glass and Doe peering around the stage like she expected to see somebody looking back at her.

He averted his gaze before she could get to his silhouette, the stage lights dimming a moment later and his guitar finding its rightful place around his shoulders.  He was at the freaking El Rey Theatre, for crying out loud.  He was celebrating a new album release tonight and doing a “hometown show” as his agent called it.  LA wasn’t his hometown.  His hometown was a small-town way up fucking north in Washington, where nobody ever visited.  But this was the first big venue he’d ever booked, six years ago (six. years. ago.) so “in a way, it’s like going home again!”

Rilo wasn’t sure where home was anymore, but he went on that stage anyway.  Eyes sparked with tears as soon as he heard the crowd waiting for him.  It happened every time he went on stage, every time he was reminded of the fact that this was his life now.  People actually gave a shit about him.  People actually wanted to see him, hear him.

Everyone, that is, except the one person he wanted to be there.

He ignored the knot in his stomach, started strumming the chords to the first song that had ever gotten him anywhere.  I Want to Write You a Song, the first thing he’d ever written for Preston.  It was like, despite everything, he was here on stage with him after all.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤  

Rilo had stopped doing stage doors a long time ago, once his team had decided it wasn’t really something he could safely get away with anymore, but tonight, he was making an exception.  He signed every autograph, posed for every selfie and every boomerang and recorded video messages for moms and brothers and boyfriends.  He was out there for well over two hours, he was getting to everyone.  If nothing else, it was a good distraction from who’d been in the crowd tonight.

He tried really hard to not think about Preston more than he had to.  It didn’t matter if he was the muse for every aching song he’d written in the past few years.  Preston was someone he kept buried inside a mental filing cabinet.  Preston was just for him.  Not for the girl who was still fucking hovering alongside the brick wall, giggling with her friends and stealing glances Rilo’s way.

Why.  Was she.  Here?

Where was Preston?  He could argue with himself that maybe Preston and Doe had fallen out of touch, but he would know just the same that that was absolutely not true – not only because they’d been friends since they were damn near in diapers, but because he’d… maybe looked Preston up on social media when he shouldn’t have.  He still saw his life in the fragments that Preston chose to share with the world.  He saw him in Union Square, had screen recorded a video of him flawlessly rapping Ice Ice Baby to his followers and another of him and Doe dancing to “It’s Tricky” by Run DMC at their friends’ wedding.

So, why wasn’t he here?  Where was he?  Did he know Doe was here?  Here, in California, at his show… did he know?

He finished up with the last round of fans, telling them to get home safe as they dispersed down the side streets in every which way.  He was turning back for the door, and then he heard her.

“Good show tonight, Jetty.”

He paused, hand hanging in the air from where it was reaching to head back inside.  He turned to look at her, at Doe.  Cute as shit, looking back at him expectantly.  If he was a narcissist, he’d assume that she figured he didn’t remember her.  But he knew that she knew he did.

And so, he didn’t play dumb, even though he was great at doing just that.  “You’re pretty far from New York.”

Her eyebrows raised, impressed.  “Long story,” she said dismissively, lifting her shoulders into a shrug.  “I mean, I couldn’t miss the Rilo Jetty’s homecoming show.”  A beat, and she was continuing.  “Not because, like, I couldn’t, but because Tedster over here wouldn’t allow it.”

The tall blonde at her side was blushing, face breaking into a smile when Rilo met her gaze.  “Big fan, bigger loser.  Hi.  Teddy.”

“Rilo,” he responded autonomously, and she gave him the most bewildered face in response.  Of course you’re Rilo, he could hear her words bouncing around his mind without her having to say a word.

“We’re not actually in LA for your show,” she spilled out, blushing even under the streetlights.  “Our friend’s getting married and taking her to Disneyland seemed like a safer bachelorette party than Vegas.”

“Because I’d never go to Vegas,” the third girl, the one with the short hair, crowed in an unmissable Irish accent, looking at her two friends in disbelief.  He realized that she looked familiar, as did Teddy.  Maybe they’d shown up in Preston’s Instagram posts – he knew he’d never really spent much time checking through Doe’s pages, only ever if he was too drunk, reflecting on the past too much.  “I’m much more content with Chip and Dale than Chippendales.”

Doe scrunched up her nose.  “As if anyone goes and watches Chippendales when Thunder from Down Under is right there.”

Rilo felt out of place in the conversation, smiling shyly back at them.  “Well, congrats.  Chip and Dale are…definitely the better option.  You’ve got a point.” Doe rolled her eyes, smirking between the two of them.  “You know, Cait, you should probably send him an invite.”

The girl, Cait, apparently, looked at Doe in shock.  Her eyes flicked between Doe and Rilo in embarrassment.  

“Obviously I wouldn’t send you a wedding invite,” she argued.  Her blush went deeper.  “Not that you don’t deserve…” she whipped back around to Doe.  “Why would I invite Rilo Jetty to my wedding?”

Doe had a glint in her eyes, one of mischief, and her eyes flicked back over to Rilo.  “He’s old friends with your groom.”

It pieced together, then.  Why she looked familiar.  Where he’d seen her.  The last time he’d looked on Preston’s page had been a particular weak moment just after his birthday, just after Valentine’s Day.  Her hair had been longer, then, and she’d been the focus of a film photo on Preston’s page, laughing at him, weakly holding her hand in front of her face like she didn’t want her picture taken.

He didn’t need to ask who the groom was.  He knew.

Maybe he did hate Doe Madeira.  Just a little.

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff 

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: after a million years, it’s finally here guys! my first jeon jungkook series :’)

“For homework this weekend, I want you all to sketch a self-portrait. It can be realistic or abstract, but just make sure it still represents you,” your professor says before dismissing class.

As you shove your sketchbook into your bag and pick up your guitar case, you hear one of your loud classmates, Kim Taehyung, talking with his friend who’s always so quiet in class that you don’t actually know what the fuck his name is. All you know is that he only ever wears oversized hoodies.

“Psst, Jungkook. Wanna draw my face for me?” Taehyung makes a flower pose with his handsome face.

“What’s in it for me?” Hoodie Boy throws his eraser at Taehyung to make him stop, perhaps out of secondhand embarrassment. You snicker silently to yourself as you pass by them to exit the room, but not before they mention something that triggers you.

“I’ll pay for your ticket tonight.”

“And tomorrow night, too, lol.” 

“Bitch, I’m not even going to tomorrow’s concert.”

“Then I guess you have time to draw your own face~”

“Wait, Jungkook. I’m busy tomorrow. Really. I have a date, remember?” Taehyung is basically pleading for his life at this point, and you can’t really blame him. Out of the entire class, he’s the only other non-art major besides you, so his drawing abilities are almost as shitty as yours. “And besides, we both know you could spend five minutes on the assignment and it’ll still look better than if I spent an hour on it.”

“Fine,” Hoodie Boy sighs. “I’ll take a ticket to tonight’s concert and a signed album instead. Thanks in advance.”

“Deal… I just don’t understand how you can be so whipped for an idol like Snow. She might have a nice body and a pretty face, but her personality is the worst. Even worse than Y/N’s,” Taehyung spins around to wave at you. “Right?”

“Ew, don’t compare me to her, Tae.” You give him an unimpressed face. The boy literally talks to everyone as if they’re his friend, and it kind of pisses you off.

“But you agree she has a shitty attitude, yeah?”

You notice Hoodie Boy is keeping a close ear out for your opinion on his supposed favorite idol. He accidentally makes eye contact with you for half a second before flailing around to gather his shit into his camo backpack. Were you really that intimidating to make those around you so flustered?

“Her shitty attitude isn’t the problem,” you hum as you walk away before they can bother you some more.

When you arrive home, you only have half an hour before you have to head out again. After tossing your bag and guitar case off to the side, you slip into slightly more fashionable clothes and break out your makeup bag. A quick layering of shadows, winged liner, and falsies paired with contouring and rose lip tint is enough for you to transform out of your barefaced college kid self. With a mask and your signature icy blue lens, you leave once more.

-

“You’re late, again,” your manager, Kim Seokjin, only sighs as you casually walk into backstage with a nonfat latte in hand. “I’m the one who’s going to be fired if you keep showing up late for soundcheck, Y/N.”

“It’s not my fault, Jin.” You pass your latte over to your cranky manager, who’s long overdue for another caffeine fix. He takes a sip, still glaring at you. “I was held up after class by two cute boys~”

“Cute boys? Y/N, you know you’re not supposed to be-”

“I know, I know. I’m just fucking with you,” you shrug. “All they did was ask me about Snow’s shitty personality. Oh, and apparently they’re coming to the concert tonight.”

“Don’t let them recognize you.” Seokjin finally hands you back your latte after chugging down half of it.

“I’m sure they would’ve said something months ago if they recognized me in class, Jin…” No one at school knows you’re an idol. As a matter of fact, no one in the world is aware that you, Y/N, are the idol with a cold piercing gaze and an even colder personality, Snow. No one except Seokjin, of course. He’s the only one you trust enough. “Besides, taking that art class has improved my makeup disguising skills, so don’t worry~”

“Well speaking of cute boys attending your concert, there are a few other idols that’ll be coming as well, so be careful.”

“Great, because all we need is another dumb dating rumor to get out of hand.” You’ve already experienced far too many of those in your short idol career. As an idol equally looked up to as you are frowned down upon, you’re pretty much at the center of every rumor or scandal. And it fucking sucks.

“Just try to stay positive about it, and don’t put yourself in a situation that the media can take advantage of, okay?” Seokjin has a worried look in his eyes—not for his own sake, but for yours. It’s his genuine tenderness and concern for you that keep you from walking away.

“Okay…”

The concert goes as usual. There are no technical difficulties, your vocals are on point, and nothing scandalous happens on stage. But at what cost?

Fan engagement is always kept at a minimum—the most fanservice you can offer is a split second of eye contact while you’re singing. You often wonder why anyone would want to see you perform live when there’s an invisible yet obvious wall standing between the stage and the audience. Like Seokjin advised, your company is doing what they can to ensure that their loose cannon idol stays out of any potential problematic situations.

But this distance doesn’t simply go away after your concerts. If it did, you wouldn’t be known as the Ice Queen, and your personal life wouldn’t be such a mystery to everyone. And for that, you cannot even put the full blame on the strict rules of your company. A large part of you appreciates the privacy that comes with this distance. Even if it is a little selfish and unfair to those who only wish to support you and your music.

As your concert comes to a close, you’re finally given the opportunity to address the dedicated fans who came out to see your performance.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” I’m sorry if it feels like you’ve wasted your money and time.

“A lot of you might be busy with school and studying right now, but you still made time for me.” I know because I too am a student.

“That means a lot, even to an Ice Queen.” I know what my reputation is, but please remember I’m human as well. I’m really grateful even if my resting bitch face doesn’t reflect that.

“Let’s meet again next time.” Next time, I’ll try to show a better version of Snow.

“Good night, everyone. Please get home safely~” I hope I was able to make you guys smile at least a little bit.

On your way out, you do your best to avoid both the media and the crowd. If you’re quick enough, you’ll be able to make it home in peace. Tonight is not that night, however.

You don’t even get outside of the venue before you see two familiar faces from class sitting on the stairs near one of the exits: Taehyung and Hoodie Boy. This is exactly why you never take off your makeup or lens until after you’re home where you don’t have to face anyone.

Of course it’s the loud one who approaches you. Hoodie Boy stays put on the stairs and watches from afar. You give them a halfhearted wave in hopes that that’s all they want, but of course it’s not.

“My friend is a huge fan of yours, Snow,” Taehyung lowkey pointed his thumb back at Hoodie Boy. He pulled out a copy of your latest album and a black sharpie. “Of course I love your music too, but would it be alright for me to get an autograph for him? He said he didn’t want to bother you himself.”

Usually you’d refuse. Whenever people say their “friend” is a fan, you get the impression that they’re just too ashamed to identify themselves as a fan of you. Like they don’t want to be associated with the kind of idol that you are.

But you’re certain that Taehyung is telling the truth since you heard that same promise being made earlier in class. And you know how shy Hoodie Boy is. So just this once, you’ll allow it.

You take the boy’s album and pen. “What’s your friend’s name?” You want to know, not only so you could write his name out, but also so you could stop calling him Hoodie Boy.

“Taehyung,” he says in a rather hushed voice.

“Taehyung?” That asshole. You glance over at Hoodie Boy just for a second. He’s busy taking pictures on his phone—not of you, but of the now empty venue. You feel bad, but there’s not much you can do besides sign the album to “Taehyung”. As you hand back the album, an idea pops up, “May I ask what your name is?”

“Me? Uhh-” You catch Taehyung off guard. “It’s Jungkook.” The name sounds familiar to you.

You nod and pull out a spare album from your bag to sign for Jungkook. You even decide to get a little fancy and draw a cute heart next to his name, just to spite Taehyung. “Here,” you say, looking back at the real Jungkook once more, only to find that yet another unwanted visitor had appeared. In moments like this, you question your decision to become an idol despite hating the attention.

Quickly you shoo away your classmates before the media shows up. You wouldn't want there to be another “misunderstanding”. The other boy now approaching you is already more than you’d prefer.

With his bleached ash blonde hair and an expensive yet casual fashion, you recognize him as fellow idol, Park Jimin, aka Korea’s Sweetheart. If you’re the devil, he’s most certainly an angel.

You’ve never spoken to the boy, but you’ve seen him at music shows plenty of times and have even competed against him for several awards. The two of you are “rivals”, or at least that’s how the media loves to phrase it. To you, there is no such rivalry; it’s clear that Jimin is the likable one. Your name is only ever placed next to his to generate newsworthy content.

“Is it really a good idea to visit your rival at her concert?” You don’t know how else to welcome the unwelcomed idol.

“It’s always good to scout out the competition,” Jimin shrugs, going along with your unfriendly greeting. “But for real, the concert was a lot of fun.” He glows with sparkles in his eyes. You can’t deny he has the most gorgeous smile.

“I’m glad…” It’s reassuring to hear compliments, especially from a fellow idol. But at the same time, you know Korea’s Sweetheart would never say anything rude—even if he feels differently. He’s perfect, after all.

“Anyway, I heard from the boy in the black hoodie that you’re handing out free autographs?” Jimin tries to point back at Jungkook, but he and Taehyung have already vanished. “I thought you were notorious for refusing autographs?” He pokes fun at you, but not in a way that annoys you like Taehyung had.

“They were bothering me and that was the easiest way to get them to leave,” you explain in half-truth. “Should I give you one too? It’d be better for you to leave before the media shows up.”

“Only if you have a stash of albums hiding in your bag.”

“I don’t.”

“Why did you happen to have one with you?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I’m just curious. Idols don’t just carry around their own albums like that.”

“…My friend gave it to me,” you say after a moment of hesitation. That isn’t a lie, but a vague truth.

“Your friend gave it to you as a gift, and you just gave it away to a stranger?” Jimin chuckles, amused by you for whatever reason. “Living up to your reputation as Ice Queen, huh.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You hate when other people call you that, and you hate it even more when they aren’t wrong.

“I’m just kidding, Snow.” The way he smiles while speaking is so mesmerizing that you almost forgive him. “I know you did it with good intentions. And because of that, those two boys were able to leave here with a smile.”

“Good.” Your expression softens. “Anyway, did you need something or…?”

“I just wanted to say hi before heading home,” Jimin shook his head. “But let’s hangout some time, yeah?” He waves farewell and leaves before you can properly reject him.

On your way home, however, you take the time to consider the boy’s offer again. Truthfully, it would be a nice opportunity, especially since you don’t have any friends besides Seokjin. Plus, Jimin is pretty fucking attractive in your eyes.

But the conclusion you come to remains the same. There’s no way you can say yes.

By the time you finally return home, it’s late, you’re exhausted, but you still have that self-portrait to draw. In all honesty, you’re quite jealous of Taehyung who has a friend willing to do the work for him. If anything, Jungkook should draw your face, since you were the one who ultimately ensured that he got his signed album. But that’s just you being salty.

You pull out your sketchbook and pens and stare into the oval mirror that hangs from your bedroom wall. Your eye makeup is smudged, your dark circles are prominent through the fading concealer, and your eyes are as icy as ever. To finish your homework as soon as possible, you don’t overthink anything and just draw what you see. At this point you just want to get it over with so you can roll into bed and laze around.

“Finally~” you squeal about an hour later, plopping yourself onto your bed in your pink penguin pajamas. You’re always in a more cheerful mood after taking a shower, so you snuggle up under your blankets and take the time to check up on social media before dozing off. This wouldn’t be the first mistake of the night.

According to the latest news that has blown up on Twitter, you’re apparently dating and fucking Park Jimin, who made a special trip just to see you, his secret lover. How. Fucking. Romantic. You laugh because you notice a confused Jungkook with his hoodie and album in the shadowy background of the tabloid photo. But other than that, you’re pissed.

You want to post a tweet to express your outrage over the dumb rumor, but those kinds of messages need to pass through PR first, and you’re sure as fuck your company’s not going to approve of anything you have to say. As always, they’d just rewrite your statement in a more civilized manor, and at that point, it’s no longer your words.

So instead, you move away from the toxic hellsite that is Twitter and move somewhere a little more tranquil. You wish you could just find a few posts about fans who enjoyed the concert—that would be enough to set your mind at ease. It isn’t easy, considering all of the positive posts are buried beneath the massive amount of shit you’re getting for sleeping with the Park Jimin, but you eventually reach a cute blog post.

“guys! i saw snow tonight and shes so pretty😭💕”

“her vocals? fUCK. yes pls”

“also she might have rbf but shes super sweet ok”

“btw new fanfic coming tomorrow bc i was suddenly inspired lol👋”

You’re not sure how to feel about being the central subject to someone else’s fictional fantasies, but you do really love that you’ve inspired this person. Being able to have a positive impact in someone’s life; that was perhaps the deciding factor for you to walk the path of an idol. You only hope that this rewarding feeling can outweigh all of the bad.

Before closing your eyes, you check the name of the blog: jk.seagull. What a funny name, you giggle to yourself. But at least there’s someone out there who’s able to make your cold-hearted soul laugh. And for that, you’re as grateful to that person as your fans are to Snow.

-

7:27AM jinnie❤️ “We have to cancel today’s concert.”

7:28AM jinnie❤️ “There have been multiple threats made against you overnight after that rumor broke out, so we believe this is the safest thing to do.”

7:31AM Y/N “at least now i have more time to spend with my boyfriend park jimin~”

7:32AM Y/N “(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻”

7:33AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N, just take it easy today, okay? I’ll keep you updated on everything.”

7:35AM jinnie❤️ “Let me know if you want to talk.”

7:40AM Y/N “can you come over now?”

7:41AM Y/N “and can you bring another album please?”

You roll out of bed much earlier than expected to change out of your pink penguin pajamas and into sweats. Usually, you’d kill time by scrolling through Twitter, but since you aren’t in the mood to see all of the death threats, you decide to check up on that jk.seagull blog instead. You’re delighted to see that there’s a new post waiting for you. It’s a comic of some sort.

The first thing you see is a cute drawing of a pouty magic girl with bright blue eyes and a tiny snowflake in her palms. You’ve never seen fanart of Snow before, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of detail and effort put into the drawing. It looks a lot like you, except cuter.

What impresses you even more is the storyline of the comic. Snow is a powerful ice witch who wishes to protect the world from evil. The only problem is that the world fears her and bans her from using magic. Rather than shunning the world that has shunned her, she decides to find new ways to be a positive light for others without the use of magic. She decides there are other ways to be a hero.

You want to keep reading, but there’s a knock at your door.

“Ooh, pancakes~” you sniff the plastic bag of sweets that your manager hands to you as you sit him down on your couch. “Thanks, Jin~”

“You’re in a rather good mood, despite all the shit that’s been going on,” Seokjin says, putting a warm hand against your forehead to make sure you’re not sick.

“I just read an interesting fanfic.”

“You read fanfics?”

“Not usually, but this one was super cute by this funny person named jk.seagull.”

“jk.seagull? He’s a pretty popular writer and artist for Snow fanfiction, you know.”

“How would you know that? Are you saying you read smutty fanfics about me, Kim Seokjin?” you smirk.

“I never said anything about smut!” He gets overly dramatic whenever you tease him, but you always find it adorable.

“So anyway, has anyone addressed the dating rumors yet?”

“Jimin apologized for the misunderstanding, but that’s all so far.”

“We shouldn’t have to apologize.” You take an angry bite of the pancakes. “I’ll deny the rumor, but I’m not going to apologize for something that didn’t happen.”

“Look Y/N, I understand, okay? But you should at least relay a statement to PR so you can clear things up on your end.”

“Just tell them I’m sorry for interacting with another human and I’ll never do it again.”

“Y/N…”

“What, Jin? It’s bullshit. I can’t do anything without it being twisted into something scandalous and getting a shit ton of hate for it. And the company isn’t even trying to help. The only reason they want me to apologize is to save their own asses, not mine.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Seokjin speaks in his calm voice.

“I want a break,” you sigh. What’s the point of being an idol if you’re doing more harm than good?

“I’ll ask the CEO on your behalf,” Seokjin pinches your cheek. “So cheer up.” He hands you the album you requested before heading out to give you some space to think.

The rest of the day is spent being a sad potato. You honestly don’t mind the threats or rumors by themselves, but what irks you is the fact that you’re not the idol you hoped to be. You’re not a light that people look to when they’re feeling down. You’re not someone who’s made a positive impact on the world. You’re no one’s hero.

You pick up your phone and go back to jk.seagull’s comic and reread everything that’s posted so far. You’re not sure why, but it’s as if this comic understands you—not just you as Snow, but also you as Y/N. The only difference is that the Snow portrayed in the comic is a much better version of yourself; a version you’re not sure you can achieve.

One other thing you don’t yet comprehend about the comic is the title: Witch Hazel. Who would ever name a story after skincare products? Then again, who would ever name himself jk.seagull?

After looking over Witch Hazel once more, you’re finally done being a sad potato and log back onto Twitter. You link the comic to tweet and post it out to the world. No caption is attached to the tweet. You want the comic to speak for itself.

[ssimagines]

The Swan ||Remus Lupin

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 3057 (opps this is long)

Summary: You have been playing violin most of your life and in your fifth year, you gain entry to one of the most prestigious violin competitions in Europe. You have to take a short trip away from hogwarts for this trip leaving your boyfriend, Remus Lupin behind.

Warnings: uber over the top fluff, violin playing 

Request: Hey could I request a Remus x Reader where he surprises the reader at a violin recital for a competition she won? Fluff to the max would be awesome. Thank you!

Kind Long Note: When you say violin competition, I hope you mean violin competition not fiddle completion because I wrote it as a violin competition. Also I hope this is fluffy enough for you. I really loved writing this hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did.

The Reader is an assumed Gryffindor, but if you would like that to be different just change McGonagall out for Slughorn (Slytherin Reader), Flitwick (Ravenclaw Reader), or Sprout (Hufflepuff Reader). Though we don’t know if Flitwick and Sprout were really the head of house during the marauders era, They could have been do I used them. 

Reader is also a half blood for story purposes

Remus is a Sixth year and you are a fifth year. There is a year gap. 

SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG I SUCK!

Masterlist

Your piece for the competition :  “The Swan” (From The Carnival of the Animals) by C. Saint-Saëns. I enjoy the way it’s played in the video below. It’s based off of that. The piece is originally a cello piece, but it is so beautiful.

You had been playing violin since you were a very young child. You had convinced your parents to let you play when you were about four after they had taken to see swan lake and you fell in love with the instrument. For the past eleven years, you had been dedicated to your art. Your father had even helped you enter one of Europe’s most prestigious competitions for the violin per your request. The only problem was that it took place in France in the middle of the school year. 

You were determined to go and preform, so before you started your fifth year at Hogwarts, you had talked with Dumbledore and McGonagall about the competition and made arrangements for your attendance.  If you were able to keep your grades up for the whole year leading up to the competition as well as get all your assignments in on time, then McGonagall would take you to the competition.

It took a lot of work and you had to get a tutor, but you had done everything you could to keep your side of the arrangement, and somewhere along the way you might have taken a liking to your tutor, Remus Lupin.

He had was a year older than you, but he had been sweet to you. He made you laugh, and he understood where you came from as a half-blood. He knew what it was like living in both the muggle world and wizarding world. It also helped that he was so cute.

All of that was out of mind right now as you stood backstage at the competition waiting to take the stage. One of your competitors was on stage playing Paganini’s Caprice No. 24. It was a very challenging piece and as you listened you became increasingly worried. Not only was the piece nearly six times as long as your piece it also had more diverse selection of techniques throughout it to show a more diverse skill set. The competitor was much older than probably around 37 to 40, and he was balding. You knew he had way more time to practice and perfect his piece. You were sure that you would not be able to do better than him.

“Do you have everything you need?” McGonagall asked beside you. You had forgotten that the professor even stood beside you. 

You turned to look at the older woman. She wore a knee length maroon dress and a brown, fleece trench coat. You found her appearance to be strange and hard to wrap your head around because you had never seen her dress like this before. It just seemed out of place even though her attire was actually more common place than what you would usually see her in. 

“Yes, I have my violin and bow,” you said as you gestured to your Berl Mendenhall violin and bow, “and I’ve memorized my piece. I am pretty sure I already put rosin on my bow. Oh, shit I can’t remember if I actually rosined my bow. I left my case in the practice room. I have to go back there.”

“Y/N, my dear, you rosined your bow. I watched you,” McGonagall said soothingly. “You have nothing to worry about. You will do great.”

You nodded to yourself and turned back to the stage. The man was nearing the end. In just a short second, your competition made one damning mistake as he fumbled over the left hand pizzicato followed by a minor lapse in play as if he forgot what came next.  If you hadn’t heard the piece before you might have missed it, but it was clear as day to you. The man tensed up, and you gained a little hope that you might in fact be able to win this. That little mistake was your in.

You took a deep breath as the man concluded and left the stage with a gracious bow. The people in the audience applauded as he exited. 

You offered him a short word of congratulations before you prepared to take the stage. The crowd died down and you watched as the portly announcer take center stage.

“Our final performer today is one of our youngest ever competitors at the age of 15 for the United Kingdom, Y/N Y/L/N,” the announcer spoke loudly projecting their voice into the large crowd. “She [he] will be playing The Swan from The Carnival of Animals composed by C. Saint-Saën. Welcome her [him] to the stage.”

With those words, they calmly walked off. The audience clapped as you made your way onto the stage, violin in hand. You bowed and waited for the clapping to quiet. With the silence slowly befalling you, you brought your violin under your chin and placed the bow on the strings. 

The piano accompaniment started and you stood poised and ready. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the bow along the string to let your first note ring out. Anyone who had been talking now silenced as you moved along your piece with confidence and elegance. You lost yourself in the piece.

When you reached the end, you let out a deep breath and bowed again. The crowd clapped as wildly as could be expected. You remained professional as you stood there listening to the crowd. Due to the large bright stage lights, you were not able to actually see the crowd. As they applauded you 

Once the clapping had died down you turned walked off stage to where you had previously been before your performance. McGonagall stood waiting for you with a smile on her face and tears budding in the corner of her eyes. You had been so deep into your performance that you hadn’t noticed until this moment that you as well had developed tears; you took this moment to wipe the tears from away as you were out of the view of the audience and judges. 

A stagehand directed you to return to your practice room to await the results. Calmly you walked back without saying a word. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth several times to speak, but found she had nothing to say before closing it. 

There was nothing more that you could do to change the results now, but you that didn’t soothe your nervousness. Nerves bubbled in your stomach like a herd of elephants. You laid your violin on the table with your bow placed gently beside it. McGonagall had taken a seat against the wall and watched as you paced the room.

Time seemed to pass slower than molasses as you waited. The only sound that echoed in the room was the clock on the wall ticking consistently. There was a knock on the door that cause you halt in your path. You turned to the door as it opened a crack.

The stagehand poked his head in and told you that it was time. Picking up your violin, you followed the stage hand back to the stage with McGonagall just a few paces behind you.

When you reached the stage, you saw the other competitors also stood back stage waiting. The man who had been before you were sweating profusely. His bald spot was glistening with perspiration. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping his head.

The portly announcer said all the performers names to welcome them to the stage. The balding man quickly shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket, but not fully so it stuck out of his pocket. Half of the poor man’s head was still soaked with sweat. The sight caused you to stifle a laugh and eased your nerves as you made your way onto the stage after him.

There were five violinist who had made it this far and only three distinctions to hand out. Your goal going into this competition was to at least get a distinction. You were already over the moon about making it this far, but being able to “place” at such a young place would reaffirm all the effort and practice you had put in over the past eleven years.

You took a deep breath as you faced the crowd. An envelope was handed to the announcer who took it with a handshake and a smile. Slowly, you watched the announcer open the envelope. You couldn’t believe it could take someone so long to open a single envelope. Finally, announcer took the paper out of the envelope and cleared their throat.

“The distinction of third place goes to,” they said. “Beatriz Olmo,”

The crowd politely clapped a beautiful Spanish woman stepped forward to bow and shake the hand of the announcer. You hadn’t heard her play as she had gone first, but you were now worried for your placing, if you even got one. The crowd died down as the announcer cleared their throat to speak again

“The second-place distinction goes to,” they started again. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears like you were standing by the drum being hit, quickly and regularly. You were holding your breath hoping with everything in you that they’d say your name.

This was your moment of truth. Part of you wished that you could get first place, but you wanted to be realistic about this, so you were shooting for second. If you didn’t get second then it was extremely unlikely to get first.

“Rolf Stumpf.”

The balding man looked up with a brilliant smile on his face. He seemed to rush forward to shake the hand of the announcer. The crowd roared as Rolf was now taking his bow happily.

Your thoughts turned dark as you stood their completely devoid of emotion on your face. If Rolf had gotten only second then what did that mean for you? The person who must have been truly amazing. As Rolf went to stand next to Beatriz, the announcer made their way back to the microphone.

Clearing their throat, they started again, “The distinction of first place goes to…”

You forced a smile to your face as you waited for one of the other two people beside you to be called. You looked to see a tall billowy man with an extremely pale face. Beside him stood a short, plump woman who had a hooked nose. Your mind let thoughts of one of their names being called run free as you tried to picture how each of them would accept their distinction.

You were sure that the two people beside you had done wonderfully. You after all would have more opportunities to participate in this competition. You realized that you would survive this, and the fact that you even got to perform today was enough to last a life time. Having this on your resume would help you get you into just about any music school you wanted which was your dream for after Hogwarts.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” The announcer’s voice pulled you out of your trance. You looked around to see the other performers standing where they were.

You had won.

You Had Won.

YOU HAD WON.

Containing your excitement, you made your way to shake the hand of the announcer. You bowed to the crowd and kept your head high as you stood beside Rolf and Beatriz. The clapping persisted as the three of you stood facing the crowd.

 Time seemed to go by in a blur. You were ushered backstage and into the practice room once again. By now you had become familiar with every inch of this room. You could probably draw it from memory.

You were in a daze as you fained listening to McGonagall. You would nod every once in a while to look like you were paying attention, but you were still struck silent at what had just happened on stage. You had placed your violin in the case a while ago, and now you were just sitting their staring at it sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you had won. Your mind went over every second of the day leading up to that moment. Sure, you had played your piece perfectly, but that you felt that if that was the only reason you had won then you shouldn’t have.  Shaking your head, you tried to put those thoughts out of your mind.

There was a knock at the door that stopped McGonagall’s speech. She went to open the door as you just watched.

McGonagall pulled the open door slightly. You couldn’t see who was there as you heard her greet them. McGonagall stepped out into the hall closing the door behind her leaving you alone.

Minutes passed as you just sat there alone. You were glad to have a moment of silence. As you got up from your stop on the practice room’s couch, your body let out a series of pops. You had been sitting on the couch for a while, and your stiff body was tanking you for moving again.

Another knock came at the door. You hesitantly walked to the door and pulled it open.

You felt your jaw go slack as you registered who stood in front of you.

Remus Lupin stood in a suit and tie holding a bouquet of scarlet roses. His hair had been pushed back the best he could. It still sat haphazardly sticking up all over his head. The faded scars that adorned his face were hardly noticeable in this lighting.

“Hi,” Remus said quietly. “Can I come in there? I feel awkward just standing out here.”

“Oh yeah of course,” you said stepping aside. He slid past you, and you closed the door.

“These are for you,” he said handing you the bouquet. You took them with a wide smile growing on your face.  You placed the flowers gingerly on your violin case before turning to look at the 16-year-old again.

“Remus, what are you doing here?” you asked. You moved closer to him.

“You think I would miss this,” he said as he picked up your hand in his.

Your eyes traveled to your connecting hands. The warmth that he caused made your chest swell with joy. There had been a few times in the past were Remus would walk you to your classes or you would hang out at the black lake with him and his friends, and his hand would find its way into yours. You had never talked with him about it, but it had made you feel over the moon. This was the only time in your life that you were sure meant more than just being friendly.

“This was a big moment for you. I had to be here,” His tone was quieter than it had been before. Your eyes had still been on your hands when he spoke, but as he took a step closer to you, you looked up at him. His eyes were as gentle as his tone had been, and a small smile graced his lips.

“How did you get here?” you said. Your voice was barely above a whisper even though you tried to will yourself to be louder. Remus brought his other hand up to your cheek and softly tucked a stray hair behind your ear. His action brought a blush to your cheeks. They were burning under his touch. Chills had risen all over your arms at his proximity.

“I don’t think you actually want to know that,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Let’s just say that prongs, padfoot, and wormtail are also here.”

With that you let out as small laugh. On several occasions, padfoot had bragged to you that he knew several secret ways to exit Hogwarts. It didn’t surprise you at all that they had helped him sneak out.

“Your laugh is beautiful,” he said to himself. You nearly didn’t hear it leave his mouth as he looked down at you, but now that you had a small smile situated itself on your lips.

Though one of Remus’s hands had left your face burning, the other still hadn’t left your hand. Remus stepped closer again. He was then able to intertwine your fingers together comfortably. Remus’s warmth radiated off him calming the chills on your arms.

“Can I kiss you?” he said softly. When you went to speak, you choked on your own throat, so you just nodded at him. Slowly, he returned his hand to your cheek and oved his lips to connect with yours.

The kiss itself was just as beautiful as you had expected it to be. His lips were rough against yours, but you didn’t mind as they pressed themselves gently into yours. The hand that had been intertwined with yours was now wrapped around your waist. Your hands found their way to rest on his neck without you even realizing.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it had exceeded all expectations you had about. Remus’s breath fanned over your lips as he moved back just little to rest his forehead on yours. Slowly your hands found each other again. The two of you stood there like that for what seemed like an infinity until you heard the door open.

“Remus?” you heard McGonagall call out. Her voice startled both of you from your daze. Your eyes flashed to the woman and then to Remus who was staring at McGonagall.

“Shit,” he said. He pressed a quick kiss against your lips before he left running past McGonagall, out of your sight. McGonagall looked like she was about to go after him when she returned his gaze to you.

“What was Remus Lupin doing here Ms.[Mr.] Y/L/N,” McGonagall used her disciplinary voice. Your eyes seemed to become the size of saucers as you stared at the women. Guiltily, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I- I don’t kn-know,” you sputtered unable to come up with a good excuse.

“Well, I think it’s best to not bring this up to Dumbledore when we get back,” she said. It surprised you that she was so calm about it. You nodded rapidly in reply.

“Now we have best get going,” McGonagall said holding her arm out to you. You picked up your flowers and violin before linking your arm with hers. In a blink of an eye, the two of you apparated away.

[onceuponaprime]

Narcissus and Strings 

Part 3 / Part 1 / Part 2

Cor finally gets his chapter, has yet to play music, and is motivated by spite.  These parts are getting longer as I go...

(and question- would ya’ll want this on ao3? i’ve been a bit unsure since it is such a short thing but if it makes it easier to read i’ll do it)

Cor almost hoped he would be late, not exactly eager to attend the concert or socialize at the end of it. He could already hear the haughty gloating. Traffic damn near granted his wish, but alas the concert hall came into view and while he was late he had definitely arrived before anything important happened. Damnit. He parked in the underground garage in a space that was much too close to the entrance for being so late and got out of the car. Pink petals caught his eye as he reached into the passenger seat to grab the bouquet, and he glanced at the rose propped up haphazardly in the cupholder. A smile broke through his sour mood almost instantly, and he left the car with a near skip in his step as almost ran to make it in time, almost forgetting to lock the car behind him as he went before slipping the fob into his pocket, careful not to jostle the flowers in his arms too much.

By the time he made it up the steps he was breathing hard, casting a dismissive wave at Clarus as he passed through the entrance. The head of security didn’t bother to say anything, just tapped his watch and gave him that look that made Cor feel like he was a teenager again, and unlike his encounter with the owner of Glauca’s it was definitely not in the good way.

“It’s about to start,” Clarus chided as Cor handed his ticket to Jared and cast Clarus a dry look in retort.

“I’m here aren’t I?” The head of security just shook his head and Cor took his thicket back from Jared, seat number already memorized from the night before, and slipped into the auditorium.

Overhead the lights were already dimmed, and he made his way carefully down the stairs to his assigned seat where Monica was already waiting, looking for him over the back of her chair and waving him over once she caught sight of him.

“Where have you been?” She whispered when he sat down beside her.

“I thought you decided not to show,” Dustin added from Monica’s other side, not bothering to look up from the program in his hand.

“Traffic,” he muttered. “And I picked up the flowers.”

“Oh,” she took them carefully when he handed them out to her, “I thought you might have forgot.”

“You know when you ask I always come through,” he replied, but before the conversation could go any further the house lights darkened as those for the stage became almost blinding under the sudden fluorescents. The general white and gold of the suits made the Trans Imperial Orchestra almost glow, only broken by the occasional red and black worn by the lead of each instrument group and the conductor. They wasted no time launching into the commanding motions and sounds they were known for and Cor simply sat back and watched.

It was easy to lose himself to the music, for as much as he may have disliked most of the players he was not so proud to admit that they were toe to toe in fame with the Crown Symphonic for a reason. Cor was content to close his eyes and merely listen for the most part, until the strings of the last song faded slowly and a hush fell upon the stage. The reason why they were there had finally come. Every light on stage winked out save one, and Loqi Tummelt made his soloist debut. Prodigy, that's what Tummelt was, a prodigy to rival the immortalized talents of Cor Leonis himself. A thought that usually made Cor scoff, but not today. He’d heard Tummelt play with his orchestra a handful of times, but this was the first time he realized the true talent beneath the smartmouth brashness of the young man who had vowed to one day surpass him. For the first time Cor saw the very real possibility of that, and pride reared it's ugly head. But there was something lacking in the young man’s performance, something Cor couldn’t quite place. To call it passion would be an insult to his fellow musician however obnoxious he was, but it was the only word Cor could think of, and it was perhaps the only thing that separated them as violinists.

Even as the young man on stage followed up his solo with a grand flourish of fast notes and dramatic bow movement, Cor vowed to make his title as hard to surpass as possible, and when those arms spread wide as he finished to outstanding applause Cor clapped with the rest.

When the house lights went up he made to stand and slip away, but Monica caught his sleeve and gave him an exasperated look.

“Just five minutes, Cor. We say congratulations, wonderful concert give the flowers, and-” she paused, staring at the flowers in her arm with an almost dumbfounded expression. With the lights up she could finally see that they were in fact not what she’d asked him to get. “this isn’t a congratulatory bouquet, Cor,” she finished, looking between him and the flowers with growing confusion.

“Yes it is, ordered custom just for the new soloist.”

“So I’m correct in thinking this is the rudest bouquet I’ve ever seen,” Dustin said from Monica’s other side and Cor nodded. Monica didn’t share in their quiet amusement as they waited for the people around them to trickle out of the nearby seats until only the other attending members of their orchestra remained.

“You got a custom order from Glauca’s on the same day?”

“Yes, is that so surprising?” Monica said nothing, but the knowing smile she had on her face made Cor think he was missing something.

“Well if we’re all done discussing flowers I suggest we get this over with,” Dustin said, glancing at his watch. “Unless you’d like to spend more time than necessary patting the Imperials on the back.”

Almost the moment they stepped backstage Tummelt threw his arms up and greeted them loudly, well he greeted Cor anyway.

“Cor The Immortal!” Every eye of the orchestra was on them in an instant as the unfortunate man of the hour approached them with a smug grin on his face.

“Tummelt,” he replied, cold and dry.

“Come to praise my performance? I’m catching up to you quick aren't I, old man?” Cor’s brow twitched in response, a sharp retort ready on his tongue but Monica was there in an instant, holding out the bouquet with a friendly smile.

“We got you these, to congratulate your soloist promotion. You played beautifully tonight.” Tummelt practically preened under the praise, his taunts to Cor forgotten for now.

A few more agonizing minutes passed before they were able to slip away, and by the time they were in the Concert Hall’s familiar entrance again Cor wanted nothing more than to go home and down a glass of scotch. Maybe two.

“See that wasn’t so bad,” Monica said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one he called old.”

“He’s what, twenty? Everyone’s old when you’re that age,” Dustin replied. “In fact I distinctly remember another violinist who called anyone over twenty old beck in the day, some audacious little prodigy, oh what was his name…” Cor shot him a withering look.

“Alright you’ve made your point, I’m just glad it's over.”

“And on that note I need to be heading home, I’ll see you both at rehearsal tomorrow. Drive safe.” Dustin parted with them outside, lucky enough or early enough to have snagged a ground level parking space, leaving him and Monica to trek all the way to his own vehicle in comfortable silence.  

“Thanks for driving me home, can’t believe my car’s still at the shop.”

“I told you anytime, Monica,” he assured as they rounded the corner into the right row.

“All things considered I’m amazed you got to park this close,” Monica said when they reached the car.

“Lucky me,” Cor muttered as he unlocked the car and slipped into the driver’s seat as Monica got in opposite him.

“Oh, what's this?” He looked over as he started the car, watching Monica bring the rose up to her nose.

“It’s from Glauca’s.” A plain reply, but he was more focused on getting out of the parking garage than anything else.

“You bought a single rose at Glauca’s?” Monica’s confusion was plain in her voice.

“No, it was a bonus with the order, something they do for new customers,” he repeated, remembering those soft eyes briefly as he drove them out onto the street. Monica snorted and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye with a raised brow. “What?”

“Nothing, Cor, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Traffic was too steady for him to press for more, all his focus on the road, but he’d get answers somehow. Maybe he’d just have to stop by the little flower shop again, he needed a plant in his home anyway.