#and god darn it. you survived. you’re still surviving.

[urlocalmagicalcat]

really long rant (happy rant) in the tags, mostly towards @synthetic-lavender /vpos

romance repulsed aros and romance favourable aros are both cool and valid but because i never see anything about us: shoutout to romance indifferent aros. romance neutral aros. aros who just couldn't care less. aros who have a conflicted relationship with romance. aros who are fine with romance in some contexts but not in others. aros who don't mind romance when it's not amatonormativity being shoved down their throats. aros who haven't yet figured out their feelings about romance. aros to whom romance is Just Something That Exists. y'all are rad as hell and it's okay not to 'pick a side'!!

[epicthemusicalstuff]

I CRYUNG I NEED SOMEONE TO SUM UP ALL ETM SONGS MY. MEMORY + ATTENTION SPAN IS SO BAD

Let’s speed run epic the musical so far!! (It’s under the cut cause even a summary is gonna take a bit for 35 songs-)

Horse and the Infant:

Giant horse- ATTACK! ZEUS?!?! What are you doing here? I have to kill a baby? But he’s just a little thing-

Just a Man:

This little boy reminds me of my son. Is killing him the morally correct thing to do? Yeet.

Full Speed Ahead:

Let’s introduce our main cast! Wow! Polites- Eurylochus- Odysseus! BFFs forever! We’re hungry- let’s go to this island and look for food!

Open Arms:

Wow Odysseus, you are looking hella tense, maybe you should try being nice and not so mistrustful. Look at these little creatures eating lotus fruit- wow this fruit is bad for you- let’s go to this cave to find food!

Warrior of the Mind:

Athena and Odysseus back story. Odysseus, your actions aren’t very Warrior of the Mind coded. Don’t disappoint me.

Polyphemus:

Let’s kill these Sheep!! NOOO! Scary Cyclops, we killed his sheep, now he will kill us.

Survive:

HES GOT A CLUB. He is killing us- NO POLITES. Oh, Polyphemus is asleep now cause he drank spiked wine.

Remember Them:

Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. They almost get away, and then he GIVES OUT HIS FULL NAME, JOB POSITION, ADRESS, AND SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER.

My Goodbye:

Athena is disappointed and they have a big messy friend break up.

Storm:

There is a big storm. Wow! A floating island! Let’s go!

Luck Runs Out:

Captain, you keep taking risks and not thinking this through. What happens if your plans fail?

Keep Your Friends Close:

Hahahahahaha! Here is a bag of wind! Don’t open it! Oh- the winions told you to open it? No!! Penelope- I’m hallucinating! Darn- the bag is opened.

Ruthlessness:

You hurt my son. So now I’m gonna kill most of your men. What’s this- a daring escape? Well- I’ll get you sooner or later-

Puppeteer:

An island. Let’s explore! Oh no- scary lady, she turned us into pigs! Let’s run Captain! Or not I guess.

Wouldn’t You Like:

Hey kid, this scary lady could kill you. How about some magic drugs? Totally safe and all.

Done For:

We are evenly matched- big magic fight! Wow! The magic drugs Hermes gave you really are something. Are you trying to seduce me?

There Are Other Ways:

Wow, you really are trying to seduce me. Too bad- I have a wife I love. Wait- you’ll help us? THE UNDERWORLD WHAT?

The Underworld:

We are haunted by everyone we have lost- Polites- wait- MOM?!? I’m too late-

No Longer You:

This dead prophet should tell me what we want to know- wait- what no- this is actually terrible? We came to you for help but now you’re saying you can’t help us? WHO?!a

Monster:

Maybe Poseidon was onto something, and we do have to be ruthless. Welp, time to become the monster y’all.

Suffering:

Ooo, Penelope, I love you, but you know I’m too shy. I don’t want to get in the water-

Different Beast:

SURPRISE I KNEW YOU WERENY MY WIFE. I actually did become the monster, and now I’m going to kill all your friends you Siren!

Scylla:

This is the only way home. Eurylochus, what do you mean you opened the wind bag back in Keep Your Friends Close. Light six torches- oh no, a giant monster is eating our crew. Me and her are the same you know.

Mutiny:

Captain why did you do that? Fight fight fight! Oh no- Odysseus has been stabbed. I’m hungry, let’s eat cows. Oh no, they were a gods cows. We knew that but still ate them. Now Zeus is gonna kill us.

Thunders Bringer:

Zeus is here. You can live, or your crew can live. But like- Penelope. Sorry crew. Crew dies.

Legendary:

It’s me! Telemachus! I never knew my dad- I wish I could know my dad. All these suitors want to marry my mom. I wish I could fight them. DONT CALL MY MOTHER A TRAMP!

Little Wolf:

Fight Little Wolf Fight- we are going to beat you up just cause you were in the way. WOW. ATHENA?? What are you doing here- we haven’t seen you since the second saga! Ow.

We’ll Be Fine:

I’m going to help you cause I feel guilty about your dad. Bet. We are best friends now. Go find my dad.

Love In Paradise:

Rewind- Morning! You were asleep. I’m in love with you now. Ew back away I have a wife. You’re a goddess??? Oh no- now I’m really depressed. I’m haunted by the ghosts again- ATHENA!

God Games:

Zeus- father- release Odysseus. *lots of convincing Gods* NO, YOU DID WHAT I ASKED SO NOW IM MAD. LIGHTNING BOLT. Is she- dead?

I’m Not Sorry For Loving You:

Yes I kept you trapped against you power, but I loved you- why won’t you love me back? It’s not like you have a whole literally family waiting for you-

Dangerous:

HAHAHAHA. Hello old friend! Let’s do some cool dance moves as I tell you how you will get back home. Here is a wind bag 2.0! Let’s hope you don’t have issues with it this time!

Charybdis:

Another obstacle!! But I know how to beat you!! Woo! I see home- I’m almost there! WAIT NO! NOT AGAIN!

Get In The Water:

Poseidon! Please let me get home- I already told Siren Penelope, I don’t want to get in the water! Can’t we get along? No! Drowning-

Six Hundred Strike:

Use the wind bag! I’m out of the water! SIX HUNDRED STRIKE! You’re beat Poseidon- let me go home. What’s this? You won’t. TIME FOR VIOLENCE. Stab. Stab. Stab. Next to my WIFE.

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 11 🦌

"Fear and Fangs"

Content: Rival Cults, Vampires, Blood Rivers

2,000 words

Hey it's time for part 11! So sorry this took 10,000 years 😭 I hate writing. I don't think this is my best work, but I say that about literally everything I ever write, ever, so it doesn't really mean much. It's admittedly choppy and fast paced but I'll be honest I don't care lol.

This is where the plot really starts kicking off and it turns from just another whump story into something that actually has direction.

But yeah, hope you guys like it, you're all awesome!! 😁

       “Where the Hell are you taking me?” Fawn demanded, glaring at Hunter in discontent as they pulled them through the woods.

       “Can’t you go just one moment without the attitude? You can at least pretend to like me, you know.”

       “Absolutely fucking not. I’m not insane, unlike you.”

       Hunter rolled their eyes, “Well, for your information, I want to go and check something out, and you’re coming with me.”

       “Oh, whoopee.” Fawn cheered, tone dead and monotone. “Sounds so fun.”

       "Just shhh." Hunter shushed.

       "Well maybe I don't wanna shhhhh. I want to know where the Hell we're going! What's so important you're dragging me along to come see?"

       "I was kidnapped by a cult last week and I wanna know what's going on."

       Fawn stopped in their tracks, bewildered, "You were fucking what?!"

       "You heard me."

       "Oh, no, no, no. I wanna know! How did that happen? And why the hell are we trying to go and find a kidnapping cult? And how did you get out? What happened?"

        "I told you to shush. You ask too many questions."

        "Uh, I think asking questions is perfectly acceptable in this scenario! Hey!”

       Hunter ignored Fawn as they kept walking, picking up the pace as Fawn kept trying to get their attention, stumbling through the snow behind them. They made it to a small unkempt road, but you couldn’t tell through all the white layers that coated the ground, as well as the vehicle that was left there.

       Hunter opened the passenger door, making a simple command, "Get in the truck."

       "Wha— where the hell did you get a truck?"

       "Stop asking questions and get inside."

       “Oh, yeah, sure. Nothing more trustful and less suspicious than when your captor tells you to get inside a fucking car.” Fawn said, though still obliged, folding their arms in the passenger seat. “Especially when they’re apparently on the search for some fucking cult. Am I some sacrificial lamb, huh? Is that what this is? You made a deal with them to let you go and that’s why you’re being all secretive. Oh, I’ve got you down to a T!”

       Hunter rolled their eyes, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, definitely. A sacrificial fawn to appease the gods, or whatever.”

       “Sounds so fun. I bet they’re a bunch of cannibals too, they’ll eat my innards and wear my bones like jewelry.”

       “You have such a morbid mind.” Hunter started the truck.

       “Says the murderer. Jesus, this thing is loud, good luck sneaking up on people with this hunk of junk. I know you don’t want me to ask questions but I just gotta know where you found this.”

       “I found it near a road when I ran away from the cult. I would’ve froze to death without it.”

       “Darn, what a shame.”

       “You say that until you’re left stranded in the middle of the woods. You couldn’t survive without me, don’t deny that.”

       “I ain’t. I’ll give you that one.”

       Hunter slowly drove down the snow-covered back roads, bumping up and down, sliding, and finding it difficult to control.

       “You drive like fucking shit.” Fawn said.

       “I never got my license.”

       “That sounds like a you problem.”

       Hunter sped up, then slammed on the breaks, causing Fawn to fling forward. “Oh wow, looks like you weren’t wearing a seatbelt! Sounds like a you problem, doesn’t it?”

       “Ow! Fuck, okay, fine, I’ll take the fucking point.” They grumbled, sitting back in their seat, buckling, “I’ll shut up.”

       “Took you long enough.” Hunter continued driving. Fawn bit their lip and kept their gaze out the window, folding their arms again. “Besides, the road isn’t in good condition. It’s not my fault.”

       After a few silent minutes, Hunter stopped the truck, and turned it off. The roaring engine quieted, and they were left in silence. “Time to get out.”

       “What? You want to leave the car? The one thing shielding us from danger and cold? You want to leave it?”

       “You said it yourself, it’s too loud to sneak around. We have to go on foot. This was the general area I found them in if I remember correctly. Let’s go.”

       Fawn hopped out of the truck and followed behind Hunter as they stalked off into the woods.

       “You know, I can’t believe you’ve survived so long in the woods on your own.” Fawn whispered, “Sneaking through the woods in the middle of winter, looking for a whole cult with nothing but a shotgun? You’re genuinely insane.”

       “Wow, took you this long to figure that out, did it?”

       “No, you just find new ways to impress me in the worst ways possible.”

       "I'll take that as a compliment."

      "Of course, I'd expect nothing less." They rolled their eyes. Though now that the conversation stopped, they were forced to confront their anxiety.

       Fawn tried their best to stay composed and act nonchalant, but it was hard when they were so jittery. This was crazy, and Hunter was crazy, and everything wasn't right and they just wanted to go home to their own bed and sleep and never leave the house again.

       They were incredibly alert and on edge, so they were easily the one to spot something unusual.

       “There!” Fawn suddenly exclaimed in a whisper, grabbing onto the sleeve of Hunter’s coat as they pointed, huddling to hide behind them. Hunter pulled them both behind a tree, staring off into the distance. Among the white of snow, figures moved in the distance, walking across the horizon.

       Hunter narrowed their eyes, "No, those guys are different."

       "What do you mean? They're clearly a fucking cult. I didn't think they'd look so spot on. That's every single stereotypical movie cult I've ever seen."

       "Yeah, but it's not the same one I saw last week. The one I saw last week wore wolf masks. These guys are plague doctors."

       "Are you suggesting there's some kind of rival cult thing going on?"

       "No, but you are."

       “Well that’s the only thing that makes sense if you insist they’re different. Either they’re the same, or there’s two of them. What other answer is there?”

       "Would you please stop asking me questions that I don't know the fucking answer to? God, I'm just as clueless as you are. I don't fucking know. Let's keep looking." They said, and began to walk the direction they were coming from.

       Hunter's eyes were fixated on the horizon, making sure they were staying out of sight, hidden. Fawn, while following, ventured slightly off the path in the other direction. Hunter didn't notice they left until they frantically tugged on their coat.

       "Shit, Fawn." They were startled, "What is it?"

       "Dude. There's a fucking blood river." Fawn said, voice incredulous.

       "A blood river? And you're calling me insane?"

       "Come look at this. Right now. I'm serious."

       Hunter could hear the fear and amazement in their voice. Fawn grabbed the sleeve of their coat and pulled them off through the trees. “Look!” They said, pointing to the river.

       It wasn’t a small creek, though also not too big. It ran along the outskirts of the woods and an open clearing. The water ws indeed dark red. The two crouched down in the snow next to it.

       “Well, it certainly looks like blood.” Hunter said. Fawn reached out to touch it, before Hunter quickly reached out and grabbed their wrist, “Don’t! You don’t know what this shit is or why it’s red.”

       Fawn twisted their wrist from their grip, “I’m not a fucking child, I can make my own decisions.” Fawn again reached down towards the still river, dripping the tips of their fingers into it. The top layer was thick, and despite the cold of winter, it was warm.

       Fawn pulled their fingers from the river, eyes wide, “Hunter, it’s warm.”

       “What? Don’t fuck with me.”

       “I’m not!”

       Hunter, now immensely curious and fearful themself, reluctantly stuck their fingers into the river, only to immediately pull out at the warm feeling, hand shaking. They wiped their fingers in the snow before standing up, slowly backing away. “That’s fucked.”

       "Yeah, I told you!"

       "Fawn, I— I have a confession to make. You remember when I took you out hunting, and it was all foggy?"

       "Uh, yeah?"

       "Well, I don't know if I was crazy or what, but— but I saw a massive deer skeleton. And I'm talking huge. I'd— I'd never seen anything like it, that's why I was so shaken up. I'm really starting to think it was real. I— I thought it was some kind of statue."

       "So… what? You're saying something paranormal is going on here?"

       "Well it certainly isn't fucking normal, I'll tell you that."

       "Yeah, obviously. Some giant skeleton, two cults in the woods, a fucking blood river and your stupid haunted house. That's not just another Tuesday. Are— are you sure this isn't something we're reading too much into?"

       "There's a fucking blood river, Rudolph, of course I'm fucking sure!"

       "Yeah, yeah, okay. And don't call me that."

       "You used to be so mad at the nickname, is there anything that'll make you happy?"

       "I'd be very happy if you weren't some creepy bitch who kidnapped me."

       "I didn't kidnap you, I just took you into my home and didn't let you leave. It's called being held captive, not kidnapping."

       "Oh, that's such a big difference. Please, enlighten me with more of your knowledge."

       Hunter was about to bite back, when an unexpected voice caused the both of them to jump.

       "What's going on here?" A feminine voice asked. One of the masked plague doctors stood behind them, her arms crossed. Hunter instinctively pointed their gun at her.

       “Woah there, mate, put the gun dow— wait—” She peeked under the mask, "Rudy?"

       "Anaira?" Fawn was incredulous.

       Anaira fully removed her mask, “What— I—" She looked at Hunter and pointed, “I saw you at work last week!”

       "Oh, yeah, I found ‘em!" Hunter said, putting an arm around their shoulders.

       "They didn't find me, they're the one who kidnapped me!" Fawn shoved them off.

       "Held you captive." Hunter corrected. Fawn kicked them in the shin, then ran to hug Anaira.

       "Oh, thank fuck! Get me away from this psychopath!"

       "Oh, okay, so you'll trust the cult lady with the plague doctor mask over me." Hunter said, and asked Anaira. "What the hell is with that, by the way?"

       "Why do I need to answer? You're the one who's apparently been holding Rudy captive."

       Fawn looked up at Anira, and it was the first time they had seen her without a facemask on. They took notice of one tiny detail, “Wait, do you have fangs?”

       She ignored them, “Look, both of you follow me, and I’ll explain everything.”

      She didn't give either of them any time to respond as she quickly took off, forcing them to either stay behind or follow.

       She led them through the snowy woods, though it felt like a race to keep up with her. Her cloak blew through the wind as she effortlessly climbed up icy hills, darted through the trees, and jumped through the snow.

       "Can you please tell us what the hell is going on?" Fawn asked as they tried to keep up, “Why are you out in the middle of the woods wearing plague costumes?”

       "It's not easy out here for anyone, Rudolph." She said, "Not humans, not us. I'm trying to get us out of wolf territory. It wouldn't be good to get caught on their turf, especially not by—"

       "Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawlin' in the wrong neck of the woods." A new voice entered the room, the tone and cadence of an older woman.

       Anaira finished her sentence, "—Ethel."

       Ethel chuckled, “Long time no see, Anaira.”

Taglist: @parasitebunny @whumpy-wyrms @fruitypinapple00 @otterfrost

Fawn and Hunter's bickering this chapter reminds me so much of me and my little brother lol. I'm Hunter and he is Fawn. He won't go a single day without insulting me lol

Sorry about the pacing this part.

Lmk in the comments if you want added or removed !

Thanks for reading !! 💕🦌

[fisherrprince]

HEY. HEY PLEASE ELABORATE ON BLAINE IN SPRAWL. HEY

so imagine something for me

Imagine a REALLY big robot, like many many skyscrapers tall, on a desert planet, very very old and grown over, but alive, and it has water and electricity for you for free so long as you keep it alive and happy. You build your society around it and keeping it alive because it is not that hard to do, it just needs someone to pilot it, so someone goes and pilots it (and that door stays shut for two hundred and forty seven years, and we all pretend we’re not worried about that because the electricity still runs), and you get water and crops going (in the desert!) and power and a livable house.

Two hundred and forty seven years later, the power shuts down.

The pilot is dead (you bury her and someone grave-robs years later and she hasn’t rotted at all). The big robot needs another, it can't run without someone in the driver's seat. But it doesn’t want some random guy. It wants its pilot back. It nearly kills the person you send to take that position temporarily because it understands how to work with Its pilot, Its friend, not him. It doesn't understand. You need its pilot.

You cannot perform necromancy, but you can cheat to survive. Thousands of years later society still runs on this infinite renewable energy robo-god, but we have figured out that in order for it to run, the pilot must be willing to give up the rest of their life. The pilot must be capable of handling the neural load of a million-ton synthetic system. And! Most importantly! The pilot must act exactly according to script.

That’s not great PR. Let’s only publicize the noble parts, okay? You could make a religion out of this. You do. It becomes tangled when they realize you can use it to justify some things.

You are now Brain. You’re in the program that trains pilots with your friends, you’ve been a disciple for at least ten of your eighteen years, and you are very good at what you all do! You’re proud of yourself. Even if you don’t become Candidate, the pilot, even if you don’t make it there since there’s only one of those every few hundred years, you’re on track to becoming a Foreteller, one of the actual leaders of society (Candidacy is an important, but ultimately figurehead, position. Pilots don’t legislate, really). You all go through the graduation process to the next class up and receive chips that will allow you to converse directly with the big robot — the Divine, let’s call it by Its title.

And then everyone else in your class seems to hear something you don’t.

Let’s get this clear; you can hear when It says “stop”. You can hear when your trainer says stop. But you don’t have to stop, when you hear it. Your friends will stop when commanded. Something went wrong, with you.

This whole agency and self-determination thing sends you into a spiral and you are determined to keep the fact that you’re 100% your own person to your darn self as long as possible.

(Your friends are fine. They’re not mindless, that’s cruel. Remember: a pilot is a person, but a person acting according to a script. Foretellers, which you will be if you’re lucky, are people acting according to their wills. You are playing dangerous games).

You have to leave. You have to leave a place there is no leaving because everyone chose to be here, everyone knows what’s happening, everyone is fine with it. You have to leave a place where the only way to leave at this point in your journey is to die. You should have left last week. You didn’t know last week.

You, however, are very, very smart. You are a clever, lucky, stubborn brat.

You leave.

It’s a long story. It involves convincing your friends to come with you without getting the deity or your trainers involved. It involves a loooooot of secrecy and quite a bit of learning code, surprisingly. You need to make your friends hear what you hear, which means making their chips work like yours. But you leave, in a mech you had one of your friends hijack for you (he’s useful, even if he’s a little spacey these days, he’s a class above you and having deity in your head 24/7 is a little disorienting, you imagine, and suddenly hanging up the phone a bit more so).

And then you crash.

:/

There’s other cities, aside from yours, that don’t appreciate a military vehicle flying straight into them. You were going to leave the planet, but escaping the sights of a very large robot is very hard, even if you left while it was asleep. It’s not anyone’s fault, it almost worked. So you crash, angry at yourself, and your friends are gone, and you will die, but.

But.

The one who finds you wants what you have. What he wants, he says, is to let everyone hear what you do. What he wants is to carry out what is basically revenge on your behalf. (What he wants is to show the world you had been following a false god. That you don’t need to do any of this, really, he knows the truth, he can show you, you can show everyone. You are dying though. You don’t stick around for the details). All you have to do is give up the thing in your head.

You have yourself a deal. You die. You haunt.

[writer-vaira]

TRR: SABERTOOTH CLAN - PART 2

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Reina

Gurr was incredibly smart. He was picking up words left and right, he obviously had a sign language on top of the words he did use - though sign seemed predominantly used. I figured it made sense while stalking prey to not have to use the spoken word. Though I was sure he was homo sapien enough that they told stories… surely? Maybe Gurr just wasn’t a well-spoken cave man. Who cares? I grimaced at the vehemence in my own thoughts. You’re in the stone age, stupid! The. Stone. Age. How? And besides that, how the hell could you reverse it? I’m an accountant, not a time lord. Great, now I’d have that stupid tv show’s theme stuck in my head.

Everything about this was stupid - I wasn’t built for this. my father would be so sad - and they’d never find a body. Would they look for me for years? Would I wake up from this nightmare or was I really stuck here forever? Here come the waterworks… No, don’t, don’t let Gurr see. He won’t understand and you’ll lose your only ally in this hellscape. That didn’t help matters much, but I managed to keep it together. Gurr was setting up strips of meat over rocks he leaned by the fire and I grimaced as he drank the rest of the bland soup. It was worse than bland because the meat was really not good either. The realisation that I might not get another good meal sealed the deal and I felt the weight of the past day crash into me. I’ve been here one day . One day and I was already so damn- darn tired.

“Gurr?”

“Reina?”

I smiled despite myself, my name, like ‘knife’ was a harder one for him, but he finally got it.

“I’m going to lay down, and go to sleep, is that okay?”

“...Reina?”

I mimed closing my eyes and laying my cheek against my hands, palms together, “Sleep.”

He grunted, pointing at the back of the cave with his furs before turning back to the meat, watching it carefully and turning a few pieces over. Fair enough, someone has to keep us fed.

I pulled my bright orange backpack along to the back of the cave, hindered by my bummed ankle. God it hurt - but what could I do? I didn’t want to use the ibuprofen I brought, because there would - I was sure - be times when that was needed more than now if I were stuck here. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. Think about bedding, yeah. Bedding was a safe topic.

I had to rearrange my pack to pull out my sleeping bag, but when I managed it, I was glad. One fur I kept under the sleeping bag to protect it from the rocky floor, but left the rest for Gurr. It wasn’t the best sleeping bag, just an old rectangular model, but it was supposed to be rated for winter camping. At least that’s what my dad said when he gave it to me.

‘Don’t buy one, have this one, if you don’t like the whole survival thing, then you won’t have spent any extra money.’

I had smiled and thanked him at the time, not telling him about the whole rest of the kit that was in the mail, enroute to my apartment that very moment. Gods, I missed my dad. I missed my mom too, but my mom was so overbearing at times it was hard to even get a word in edgewise sometimes. I would do anything to see them again now though. For my mom to tell me I’d gained weight, and should eat more food in the same breath.

I took a shuddering breath. No, I’m just focusing on bed right now. I started to take off my boots, hissing at my ankle before deciding against it. If I took that boot off my foot might swell too much to put back on. I looked back at the sleeping bag. If I unzipped it, I could have the one injured foot sticking out… yeah. I took off my left boot, keeping it beside my backpack and carefully shimmied into the unzipped sleeping bag. Oh yeah, okay this works, I just can’t thrash around tonight or I’ll be a popsicle in the morning. 

The exhaustion tugged at me, but I was so focused on trying to think of other things, things that weren’t what I left behind, that sleeping was still a struggle. I felt myself almost reach slumberland when Gurr made his way into the furs.

“Reina.”

“Mmn?” my brain pushed away the fog, “Gurr? What’s going on?”

“Reina.” He started to pull the sleeping bag away from me.

“Gurr, no, we’re not… not doing that.”

He cocked his head in the darkness, I was only able to see his silhouette with the fire behind him.

“Reina.”

“Ugh, Reina what?” I growled, tugging the sleeping bag out of his hands, “I’m sleeping, and you’re sleeping, and we’re not having sex.”

“Reina.” He growled right back at me, moving with lightning speed to pull the sleeping bag off me. I was wide awake now, and pissed off.

“Gurr, you can’t just-”

He was naked. Oh hell no.

“I will cut your dick off with the knife if you keep it up!”

I tried to keep my tone angry and confident, but I wasn’t sure if it was working.

He grunted and paused before growling, “Seep.”

“...Sleep?”

“Seep, yush.”

I frowned, oldest trick in the book? But he’d been so not gross this whole time. Still…

“Seep, Reina.” He tugged the sleeping bag again and I lifted myself up on my good leg so he could pull the whole rectangle of fabric out from under me. He probably just wanted to try the sleeping bag? Like he wanted to try all my other stuff I had in my bag… and he’s throwing furs on top of me. Okay…

Gurr threw the sleeping bag on top, like one big blanket, before burrowing under the furs himself. I moved as close to the end of the cave as possible, to give him room. Gurr had other plans. He tugged me closer to him, despite my best efforts. I pushed away from him again and again and he just grunted, trying to pull me closer.

Holy moly he is strong , which would be inspiring if it weren’t so damn terrifying.

“Gurr, no.”

“Reina.”

“No, I said... NO, GURR, FUCK OFF!” I yelled in his face when he tried again, which finally made him pause.

“Reina? Seep?” He sounded hurt and confused. Why was he trying to pull this stunt? He was so kind all day and then to try to… He was naked, but I wasn’t. Was he… Was he trying to cuddle for warmth?

“Gurr. Sleep only, right?”

“Seep, Reina, seep.” He started pulling me closer and I allowed it, ready to pull the knife at my head out of its sheath any second. But he just… held me. Oh. I waited for my heart to move down out of my throat,  I wasn’t really safe - he could do anything to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him except by hurting him with the knife, maybe. His breathing eventually evened out and I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. He really was just looking for body warmth.

This time. my brain wouldn’t stop going over all my murder podcasts and how I thought some of those women were silly to trust those monsters. The adrenaline took awhile to leach out of my system. He was just Gurr, looking for warmth in this terrible ice age looking landscape… that’s it. And if he does try to hurt me, I stab him. I reached for the knife again, holding the leather sheath like a talisman. Gurr smelled like dirt and blood and body odor, probably the worst combo I’d smelled, ever. It was a bit much for me to take in and try to sleep at the same time... But I was exhausted, and after what must have been hours, I finally fell asleep.

Morning came and I was alone.

I blinked rapidly when I realised I was still in the cave. It hadn’t been a nightmare. I was in the era of wooly mammoths and cavemen. my vision blurred, and I reached up to wipe away my tears. They were so warm against my skin, it was almost hot. I sat up, looking toward the cave entrance. The fire was out, and the meat he’d roasted was gone. Gurr was gone.

Small panic bubbled up until I saw my cooking pot arranged neatly against the cave wall, beside the coal burned bowl with my metal spoons in it. If he was leaving me to die, surely he’d take my things? Or his own? I let out a shaky breath. He’d been a perfect gentleman last night and I’d yelled in his face. At the time it was terrifying, but he had seemingly no idea what I was upset about. He had no intention of doing me harm, and the thought that I might have worried about the possibility never crossed his mind… I tried to recall anything I could about cavemen. Most laymen thought of cavemen as brutes that knocked women over the head and dragged them back to their cave. But clearly that wasn’t what Gurr was interested in.

An online video crossed my mind briefly, where they talked about early man possibly being more like bonobos - monkeys that were relatively peaceful… And there was that other study that had angry ‘alpha’ monkeys eating garbage that had been poisoned, leaving none for the women and ‘beta’ males… and the group adapted to having peaceful men. I remembered that one vividly, as my online friend Vivian had sent it to me with the caption: “You thinking what I’m thinking?”. I remembered laughing and messaging my friend that no, they could not poison all the bad men in the world at once. Vivian’s frowning emoji had me in stitches at the time, cackling at my friend’s attitude.

Were things peaceful like that with Gurr’s people? On that note… where were his people? Was he out hunting when he found me? I freed myself from the many layers of fur, sad to lose their warmth, and tugged on my one boot. I wobbled to the cave entrance, trying to keep my weight off my bad ankle. Moving the leather away from the entrance, I looked out to the snowy landscape - the sun was still pretty low in the sky, and I tried a trick I read: holding my hand up to the sky and counting my fingers as 15 minute increments. Three…? Hours since dawn? I shrugged, it wasn’t as if time was really as important here. Not like I had to clock in. I was thankful now that I hadn’t picked up the gorgeous burman kitten I saw online, free to a good home, as it would have been stuck in my apartment… forever. I shook my head, looking around again. I saw tracks where Gurr had obviously left into the forest. He’d obviously be back, if only for all the tougher meat and the furs.

Now would be a good time to go to the bathroom in private. I poked my head back inside, looking around. That walking stick was gone, so I’d have to wobble myself. Grimacing, I turned back outside. At least it was sunny. The heat of the sun hit me as I limped around the outside of their cave, and it was deliciously warm against my face. That’s so good.

I paused, looking around again. I wasn’t sure what creature Gurr had slain for dinner, but I didn’t want to be someone else’s meal. I made it to the treeline and found a fallen log for my toilet. I looked around as I did my business, noting how quiet everything was. How far out from Gurr’s people were they? It didn’t make sense that he would go so far out alone and have to drag back a large animal to his family.

Was he alone, for real? Was he traveling when I mucked up his plans?

There was no easy way to ask him either. It was easy enough to pick up a knife and name it - but for a concept? That would be impossible. Like how Canada was theorized to be named from the word “kanata” meaning village in… Iroquois? Huron-Iroquois, that’s right. Because that word, “kanata” meant village or settlement. And the colonizers were asking about the name of the land itself. And I was rambling again. Can you ramble in your own brain? There would be a long road ahead if I really were stuck here. Not just the language thing, but… everything. Maybe… maybe Gurr is alone and it is just us. I stood, butt freezing, and headed back to the cave. I’d have to ask Gurr for a walking stick of my own, because I couldn’t rely on him to carry me everywhere, especially if he went out to hunt in the morning. I miss dad.

No, no, none of that. What can I do that is productive? I kept my head on a swivel as I limped through the snow. Was it warmer today than it was yesterday? Gods, if you can hear me, please let us be entering spring, and not entering winter. I could help Gurr, once my leg was healed, with daily tasks but starting my introduction to this era at the cusp of winter would be hard mode. I was having a tough enough time as it was. I entered the cave, arranging the leather flap over the entrance to keep out the cold.

Okay, I have to stay positive. What can I do? I spotted my backpack. I can take inventory of what I have, and see what could be useful. Right. I knew what I purchased, but it was something to do that wasn’t worrying about things outside my control. I took the time to lay everything out in groups that made sense to me. I had some paracord, fishing line, and snare wire. No hooks because they were going to be provided at camp… but maybe I can make hooks out of the snare wire? Or out of bone? That was probably more useful in the long run, as the snare wire would run out fast.

I had two metal boxes that clipped shut, one that held in my ferro rod, multi-tool, and sewing kit. The bigger one, held my mirror, two cutlery sets, comb, foraging bag, duct tape, soap, and my phone. Not that my phone will be useful here… The waterproof phone bag might though. I had a few other dry bags, mostly holding my extra clothes, but clothing could stay dry in the cave, surely. Strapped to the backpack was a small hatchet, my bow, and a folding saw. Those would certainly come in handy, though the saw would be near impossible to keep sharp. The last bit was my canteen style water-bottle, a small survivalist book, and my homemade pacebeads that were clipped to a carabiner, along with the supplies to make 20 more pacebeads. I was so proud, I was going to show it off at camp. I held up the rainbow of pony beads that were snug against the cord, thinking how happy I was that my little craft would be useful, and how I could show the other women how to make them - I could make some friends. my vision blurred and I shook my head. None of that now. I glanced at the small book. It was one I had memorised, but surely it couldn’t hurt to look over it again. If only to distract myself. Maybe I could look at the bone carving section again.

Gurr

Reina would be proud. I’d caught two rabbits this morning, and they were fat. I looked to the sky and wondered how much longer it would be until the snow melted away and the white furred creatures would be highlighted against the ground until their winter coats changed. The sun had moved up quite a bit, and I was ready to go back to the cave and see Reina’s face again.

He wasn’t sure what happened last night, but I hoped my breakfast catch would keep her happy. She seemed to favor the rabbit pelt last night, worrying the fur in her sleep. I’d gotten up to piss in the night, and stoked the fire a bit before watching her. She was so… clean. Her face had no dirt on it to mar its near-perfect surface. She had a small skin mark where the line of her cheek and upper lip met that was darker than the rest of her skin - but it just enhanced her beauty in my opinion. It made her imperfect, which made her human.

He shook my head, glancing around. There were some birds perched up in the trees, and I hesitated a moment, wondering if I could bring one down. I already had two rabbits for fresh meat - but maybe Reina preferred rabbits only for their fur?

He tightened my leather strip holding the rabbits and gripped my spear, watching one of the birds on a lower branch. They seemed not to notice him yet, though I was still a little ways out. I stalked closer, moving as quickly as I dared, knowing I did not need the meat for filling my belly. And I was impatient to get back to Reina. A little more… The ancestors were on my side, for as I flung my spear, the bird flew into it, killing it instantly. Thank you for your life, friend.

I added the trophy to my kill belt and quickened my pace home. When I got closer to the clearing, I saw Reina on the edge of the treeline, rooting through the remains of the land sloth. I called her name, and when she looked up and smiled to see him… my heart soared. Never before had my heart felt full like this. Was this what the elders spoke of when one finds their true-mate? I wasn’t sure, but I was grateful for it all the same. When I got closer I noticed a branch attached to her back, and I cocked my head. my mate had weird ideas - but then she also had tools beyond my comprehension, so I wasn’t going to argue.

“Reina?”

“Hy Gurr, Eyem joost seeing wat eye kan salvidge.”

He watched her closely, noticing a small pile of bones that she added to. It looked like she was finding small but strong bones and breaking them off around finger length or half that. Quite a few pieces were thick like the toe bones. I wanted to help, but wasn’t sure what exactly she was hoping for. I got her attention before pointing at a limb she hadn’t gotten to.

“Goh aheed.”

That seemed positive, so I took out my cutting tool and started removing the bones in their segments. I finished one foot and was going to start on another when Reina touched my shoulder.

“Das enoof phor nao.”

He tilted his head, what was she saying ? I huffed out a breath, and watched as she gathered up her pile, motioning with her other gloved hand to follow him. She limped along and I shook my head. Silly woman, she could injure herself even more. I rounded to face her, handing her my bones.

“Tanks, bott I-” She yelped as I picked her up, holding her under her knees and shoulders. “Thanks, Gurr.”

She leaned against him and I tried not to puff up with pride. Her accepting my help made him feel like the strongest creature in the hills. Reina was thankful for him. And she’d be even more thankful when her foot was healed and she could sleep in a cave that wasn’t sized for a babe. Oh, a babe. I glanced down at my mate. When she accepted him, what would their children look like? Would they be snow-pale like her? Bark-brown like him? Or maybe a mix, like Kaz, that looked like the dried grass in summer or the sand on the beach? They’d have her dark hair for sure… Oh, but first they’d have to…

He lifted Reina higher against my chest. Now was not the time to be thinking of that. She was injured and they didn’t even communicate well yet. Soon, I hoped. Soon enough. Her branch she had on her back was digging painfully into my arm, but I didn’t care - Reina was mine in this moment.

They got to the cave entrance too fast for my liking, but I set her down gently and made to enter the cave.

“Gurr?”

He snapped up, looking around the clearing before looking at Reina.

“Kan Gurr git fur me?” She pointed at my spear, then to herself. “Ah stick fur Reina?”

“Reina, stick?” I looked at my spear a moment. I could make her one, but she was not very careful with it. I had to sharpen the point again this morning with how terribly she used it yesterday to try to walk around with it. But if she wanted one to just walk around with, I could probably find something for her. I nodded, and took off my kill belt before taking off into the forest to check the deadfall area I’d been getting my firewood from.

Reina was pleased with the sticks I picked. I had picked out a few, and brought them back, and she looked over each one carefully. She hadn’t touched the animals but laid them out nicely, with the leather clad knife and the flat rock beside them. Perhaps she was a gatherer, and not a hunter. Maybe I could teach her. I nodded to myself, I had two rabbits - it was the perfect time to teach her as she could copy my moves.

“Reina. Come, look.” She set aside her bone pile and another tool she called a Mulltee tool, and crawled over. She seemed to have an easier time in the cave walking with her knees instead of wobbling on one foot.

“Gurr? Wat?”

“Reina look.” I took the knife and carved down the belly of the rabbit, then held out the knife, “Reina cut.”

She looked upset but nodded and took the knife. I pointed down the center of the belly and Reina bit her lip before following the trail I’d pointed out.

“Yush.”

“Gurr, it’s ‘yes’.”

“Yehss… Yes?”

“Yes,” she nodded, still looking… sick? “Reina wihl look.”

We went back and forth, with me showing Reina how to cut off the skin, and what parts were good to eat, and what to save for ambush traps. She was a quick study, but I knew something was wrong with the way she kept looking to the cave entrance.

“Reina?”

“I’m fyne.” She covered her mouth for a moment before continuing the cut. She’d used that fyne word a few times. It seemed like a touchstone for her, as if telling herself she was going to be okay.

“Reina, look.” I waited until she was looking at him, “Reina ouch? Ouch…” I tapped my chest.

“Reina…” She paused, “Reina ouch stohmak.”

She patted her belly. Was she that hungry? Or did she mean… I looked at the cave entrance again. Was she ill? I nodded, pointing at the cave entrance and leading the way. Maybe I could find a willow tree, I knew mother could make a tea out of it, perhaps Reina also knew of the tea?

He turned in time to catch Reina stumble out into the snow, retching. Fuck! She must have been sicker than she let on. She fell beside her, rubbing her back. What was her touchstone? Fyne? I murmured that she was fyne over and over as she threw up. At one point she grabbed at her hair and held it away from her face, so I took over that so she could focus.

After a few minutes she finally sat back, legs akimbo to avoid her bad ankle, and sighed.

“Thanks Gurr. I kant cut ahp the meat.”

The meat made her sick? She said cut though… cutting the meat made her sick? Oh, I smiled softly, she was a kind soul - I remembered when the elders spoke of their elders - how some of them could not bring themselves to hurt an animal and subsisted on plants unless absolutely necessary. How they would eat prepared food, but could not dress the animal themselves. I thought it odd at the time, when elders were supposed to be the wise ones - and one did not turn down good meat - but it made more sense as I got older. Seeing some of the clan members become heavy with child also sometimes put them off meat.

Reina wasn’t with child… right?

He looked her over, and nothing was obvious at first. But her bulky… clothes? That’s what Reina called her odd furs anyway, got in the way. But she didn’t seem rounder like the others with child in my clan became. Unless it was early.

Was she already mated with someone else? Many someones?

I don’t like that idea. Not at all.

Reina

My caveman seemed a little weird after I threw my guts up. I mean, I’m a sympathetic puker myself but… It seemed to be more than that. After Gurr tossed my… dinner far into the treeline, he came back and finished dressing the rabbits. I felt bad, like I’d let him down somehow. I tried, and no one could fault me for that, right?

I carved away a little more on the bone, catching any chunks in a scrap of leather I stole from the bed to act as a lap apron. I watched Gurr between cuts, wondering what he was thinking. He didn’t have to keep me with him, didn’t have to share his food… was he upset that I wasn’t able to contribute to camp tasks?

You can’t hunt and you can’t even help make food?

I frowned as I started hearing my mother’s voice in my head. You can’t help out around the house? Why can’t you send us more money like your baby brother? He pulls his weight in this family. Your father doesn’t say it, but he’s disappointed in you - you were supposed to be a doctor like his mother. Grandma had been so disappointed when I asked for my blessing to pursue Accounting. I could picture everything about the scene perfectly. Grandma’s matching jade necklace mirroring the one around my neck. The incense that I insisted was lavender that always just smelt like burnt flowers cloying at the edges of my senses. And the hard floor digging into my knees as I knelt in front of their matriarch.

“I thought you wanted to be a Doctor, like me.”

“I’m so much better with numbers, Grandma. …Do you remember my finals?” my highschool grade in math and the subsequent final test hammered home to my family that my mathematics were beyond compare.

“I do.” Her voice was so sad. When I was a child, I would always ask Grandma to tell stories about the people she made feel better. That I wanted to be just like Grandma when I grew up.

The matriarch sighed,“You have my blessing. Not that you needed it.”

My head had snapped up to deny it but Grandma’s uplifted hand stilled me, “You don’t need to follow every tradition we have. Things are… changing.”

“Yes, Grandma, they are. Though some traditions are worth keeping alive.”

The two women stared at each other with love and determination. Each of them standing on one side of their generation apart, each side of the argument battling with each other.

my grandmother smiled, “Like your Kyudo training. Tell me what rank you’re in now?”

Just like that, it was grandma and grandchild again, no longer adversaries holding the lines between tradition and modern thinking.

“6th Dan now - Rokudan.” I was proud, archery was the thing that I held most dear to my heart - something even my mother approved of. That was part of what drove me to perfect my form, to focus on my art so much that my social life became almost exclusively online. I loved it, despite what it had cost me in other areas of my life. It made me feel connected to my roots, but also something that was mine alone. No one else in my immediate family practised the Kyudo art of archery. It was thrilling to be the best at something none other tried to attempt.

“I knew you could do it, Reirei, you always were so studious.” A smile, full of warmth, “Are you hungry?”

I nodded, trying not to feel bad about the sadness in my grandma’s eyes.

Gods that felt like a lifetime ago. I wiped my face just as Gurr spoke up.

“Reina?”

I knew I was a mess. I didn’t cry beautifully like people did on tv, I knew my eyes would be puffy and my face red. Like some kind of weird heirloom tomato. I took a deep breath before looking up at him.

“Yeah, Gurr?”

He seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say for a moment, his brows knitting together, “Reina no cut meat. Yes?”

I wiped my face again, “Yes. Thank you Gurr.”

He nodded before starting on dressing the weird looking bird. I set aside my bone carving items and  crawled to grab my pot. I could get that started at least… my grandma’s words echoed in my head.

  Things are changing.

  Wasn’t that the truth?

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

[imkylotrash]

Hi if your still taking requests please could u write a Hardin Scott x sick reader. Just really fluffy. I’ve been sick for the past week and it’s killing me lol.

Thanks <3

I know I received this request a while back, so I hope you're feeling better now! 💛

It is embarrassing just how many tissues you've filled with snot. Absolutely abominable. You're not entirely sure how a person can keep that amount of snot in their body. The fever is the worst though. You’re constantly removing your sweater because you’re too warm only to put it back on five minutes later, because you start shaking from the cold. In short, you’re miserable. And you wish Hardin was here to make you feel better, but he has an interview in Seattle for his book, and you’re not about to get him sick the day before. Instead, you settle for a phone call. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

“God, you sound rough. How are you doing?” Hardin laughs on the other end. 

“Not so good,” you reply, voice shaking. You’ve hardly spoken a word for the past few days as you hid in your apartment with nothing but rom-com movies to keep you company. 

“I wish you’d let me come over. I bet I could make you feel better in an instant.” It’s true. Cuddling with Hardin would definitely improve your mood if nothing else. But you don’t want him to get sick before his big day. His second novel is a big deal. It’s the book that can make or break his career as a writer. 

“You can stop by after your meeting,” you manage to propose right before a coughing fit takes over. 

“By the time I get back from meeting you’ll be asleep,” he sighs. You know it’s difficult for him to just leave you alone when you’re not feeling good, but you just can’t say yes even though you crave the feeling of his arms around you. 

“Then I’ll just see you tomorrow. Really, Hardin. I’ll be fine.” Begrudgingly, he agrees to stay away until after his meeting, so when you find yourself awaken from your nap on the couch by a knock on the door a few hours later, you’re very confused. You open the door to find Hardin with a face mask and gloves on. 

“I even brought hand sanitizer,” he says with mischievous eyes. Before you have time to protest, he’s slipped into the apartment. He heads right for the kitchen where he starts heating up some soup. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t fed yourself today.” You know better than to try and deny. 

“I haven’t really been hungry.” This time, he’s the one that keeps quiet as he stirs the soup. You know it bothers him to see you sick and not eating. 

“You really shouldn’t be here, Hardin.” 

“Please, I haven’t been sick for the past four years. I think I’ll survive. Besides, you look like shit. I’m not letting you stay here alone.” He’s nothing if not brutally honest. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the window, you have to admit that he’s right. You resemble a ghost. 

“Eat,” he commands, handing you a bowl of soup. Taking a whiff, you recognize it as pumpkin soup. 

“Very seasonal of you,” you joke as you eat the first spoonful. It’s hot, but pretty darn good.

“Eat. And then we’ll take a shower.” Fed and bathed, Hardin tucks you into a little burrito, wrapped in the duvet. You feel just about ready to fall asleep when you feel the weight shift on the bed. Looking to your side, you spot Hardin with a book. No face mask, no nothing. God, you’ve missed his face. Just as you’re about to protest, he gives you a look that tells you this isn’t up for discussion. To be honest, you just don’t have it in you to argue with him. It’s nice having him here. He makes you feel better. 

“You might as well cuddle me if you’re refusing to listen to sound advice,” you mumble as if you’re annoyed when really every fiber of you is screaming for him to just wrap his arms around you. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his grin as he places his book on the nightstand and lies down proper. 

“You’re a stubborn one, you know that?” Your silence makes him laugh. But you’re happy he’s here. You really needed him even if you were trying to pretend that you didn’t. 

“Thank you for coming over.” 

“I told you already, I’ll always be here.”

--------

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @canthebest1 Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 

[coffeeshib]

Kara just really really wants to date Lena supercorp au?

“Date me,” Kara says.

“No,” Lena answers calmly.

Kara gasps, blinking fast, shocked by the nonchalant response. Lena merely looks at her tablet, her attention clearly divided. Her best friend sits cross-legged next to her on the couch, sweater and sweatpants and socks on, comfortable and relaxed.

“No? But—Lena, I’m cute and funny.” Kara scrunches her nose and squints at Lena’s tablet screen.

Lena pauses. “That’s true,” she says slowly, and finally looks at Kara. Lifting her hand up, she pushes Kara’s glasses back up on her nose using her index finger. Then, she only just returns her attention back to her tablet.

Alex squints at them from across the room. “Oh, great,” she groans, before standing up and taking her phone out of her pocket. “Where's Kelly?” she mumbles to herself as she leaves the living room, making her way to Lena’s balcony.

“Is that—wait, so is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, Kara. I only agreed with the cute & funny part,” Lena says, distracted.

“Lena.” Kara's mouth opens and closes, eyes blinking fast. “Wow, you don’t let a girl down easy. Sad girl down!”

“Well, get back up,” Lena quips. She strokes Kara’s knee, touch tender.

“I—what—?” Kara stammers, with wild eyes. Falling backwards on the couch, she stares at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you—is this how you usually respond when someone asks you out? So this is what rejection feels like.”

“Trust me, you’ll feel better after eating a plate full of potstickers.”

“Maybe.” Kara bites her bottom lip. Frowning, she sits back up and pokes Lena’s thigh. “But can I ask why not? I have abs, Lena.”

Lena wheezes. A few seconds later, Kara also shakes in silent laughter as well.

“Look,” Kara says, touches her glasses and licks her lips. She’s trying to keep a straight face on. “I’ll play with your hair everyday and give you lots of face kisses if you date me.”

“Well…” Setting the tablet down, Lena pretends to think about it.

Then, the balcony door opens and Alex shows up again, walking in. 

Lena shoots Alex a please help me look, but Alex pretends she doesn’t see it as she refills her glass of water. After that, she dashes out of the room so quickly she becomes a blur of red hair and black clothes.

Damn her.

Kara sees Lena’s face and pouts, taking her arms back. Lena whimpers, because the heaters aren’t on and it’s cold right now and Kara’s hands on her waist were keeping her warm, goddamnit.

Lena tries, and fails, to pull Kara’s arms back around her.

“Kara. Those arms, put them back where they came from—”

Kara does as told, and indulges her. “I have decided that this is the last time I’m going to cuddle you. I only cuddle people I date.”

“Lies.”

“It’s true.”

Lena breaks into a smile—or rather a smirk, really. “It’s not. Don’t threaten to deprive me of your warm hugs and cuddles.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara sighs. “You see, I would pay so much more attention to you if you dated me. Your best friend who has abs. So, maybe date me?”

Lena considers it for a second, then wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so.”

“Wha—” Kara stutters, offended. “I'll have you know I'm an excellent girlfriend. I'll bring you flowers and chocolate and give you nose kisses. You’re the perfect height to receive nose kisses from me.”

Lena only stares at her, the corners of her mouth twitching into something like a smile.

Then, someone laughs—loud.

They both look up to see Alex on the balcony with a ridiculous goofy smile on her face, phone next to her ear.

“Look at Alex. I want that. Did you know that Alex’s girlfriend takes her on a date every week, each Saturday, and has a special routine? Kelly gives Alex’s face ten kisses every night, all over her face. It’s relationship goals.”

Lena cracks a smile. “Gay.”

Kara nods solemnly. “Gay.”

“Women, huh, Kara.” Lena arches an eyebrow at her.

“Hush, Lena. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

Lena tilts her head, smiling amusedly. “Kara, you’ve been ‘coming to terms with it’ since… well, since you met me. I think you have it figured out by now.”

Kara shrugs. “I mean… I still don’t know for sure, Lena. See, I’ve never dated a woman before—”

“—What on earth are you talking about, you dated Lucy before she left National City—”

“—How do I truly know if I like women if I have never felt the warmth of a woman’s touch? I’ve walked my whole life confused, lost and scared, hidden from showing my true self to anyone—”

“—Kara, Eliza said “I know” when you came out to her—”

Kara sighs deeply, eyes wide. “How do I just know when I don’t even know how to hold a woman’s hand?”

Lena takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “And I thought I was the dramatic one. Darling, you astound me.”

Kara sighs, sad and dejected. “Lena, what was that quote about tiddies?”

“The what now?”

“From Sappho’s. I think it was something like ‘may you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend’? Yeah, it’s that. Oh to sleep on the breast of my delicate friend.” Kara cries. “That’s what I want, too.”

Lena falls down on Kara’s chest, laughter bubbling inside her chest and trying to squirm away. Kara doesn't let her, instead she just cackles along with her. Lena bites Kara on the neck, who doesn't even flinch, which, what the fuck—instead just shifts Lena back to sitting up and then dramatically sprawls out on her back even more.

“Date me, Lena,” Kara says. “Date me, date me, date me—”

“Kara.” Lena sighs, squeezing Kara’s hand. “I am not going to date you. You would spend more time at the gym than you would with me.” She pokes her abs.

“Oh, no.” Kara sniffs. “But you like and enjoy how strong I am. Don't think I don't notice how flustered you get when I pick you up or hold you in my arms.”

Lena looks faintly pink. “That's none of your business,” she says calmly. “I like muscles, you're not special.” Kara only just now notices Lena’s wrinkled sweater from the earlier actions, and starts smoothing them.

“You look nice. You look really good in my clothes.”

Lena sits still as Kara fixes her up, keeping a poker face even when Kara tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I look good in everything.”

“But my clothes are simply the best.” Then, Kara gasps. “Yet another reason you should date me.”

Lena sighs, shifting her weight around in Kara’s lap. It’s quiet for a bit, eyes on each other as they listen to Alex talking outside.

Kara takes the opportunity to cup Lena’s face. When Lena doesn’t move, just stays still in Kara’s lap, Kara gives Lena a kiss on the cheek.

Lena pulls back.

“Kara! What was that.” Lena raises an eyebrow, incredulous. Her hands slip under Kara’s shirt, palm on her abs.

“I'm trying to seduce you,” Kara says, trying to keep a straight face, and stops Lena’s wandering hands underneath her shirt.

“It isn't working.”

“Darn.”

Lena nods. “You need to work on your skill.”

“Yes, well… that's not exactly what the last person I had sex with said.”

Lena frowns. “Wait, what? When did you have sex with someone?”

“Hmm. Just yesterday, some woman from a friend’s birthday party. She was lovely. Pretty, too. Why, you jealous?”

Lena scoffs. “No,” she says. Kara pokes her cheek.

“Aw, jealous baby,” Kara coos. “How can you be jealous when you’re not even dating me?”

“I’m not jealous,” Lena insists. “I know what you taste like. I know how you are, and I’m very sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Oh, really now.” Kara breathes a laugh. “I made you cry the last time we hooked up! You were begging so much—Kara, Kara, please! Kara please, want you to touch me, fuck me now, don’t stop, please, please—”

Lena lets out a strangled noise and quickly quiets Kara, squishing her palm against Kara’s mouth. After a moment, when Kara shows no sign of talking anymore, Lena hesitantly takes her hand off Kara’s mouth.

“So, it’s really a big no on dating me, huh.”

Lena pauses, biting her lip.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Amazing,” Kara whispers. “Lena, are we still pretending it wasn't you that I danced & flirted with at Kelly’s birthday party? I even guided you all the way back to your bed. It's been one whole day since you've last gotten—well, um. You know. Are you okay? How are you surviving?”

“I’m thriving.” Lena breathes out. “I’m living my best life. Been doing some soul searching, too. Finding myself.”

Kara wheezes.

“If you really want to date me,” Lena says, seriously, “you would make me some tea and let me do my work peacefully.”

Kara turns incredulous. “But Lena, I can't move.” She cries. “You’re in my lap, snuggled toasty warm against me and feeling me up. You get up!”

Lena slumps down until Kara’s back hits the couch and Lena’s lying completely on Kara. Kara immediately hugs her with her toned arms. 

“No,” Lena says. “I’m cold, warm me up.”

“Ice block human,” Kara whispers. “Date me.”

“No,” Lena says, groaning right into Kara’s ear. She tucks her face into Kara’s neck, her lips touching the skin there. “No, for the last time. I will not date you, Kara Danvers.”

“Golly—that’s not even my full name. How many times can you break a woman's heart today? Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”

Lena only makes a muffled sound against her neck.

“No more straps. I’m never giving you some ever again,” Kara decides.

“But I like it when you use the strap. Why not?”

Kara scoffs. “I meant the sour straps. Lollies—my snacks in the cupboards. But since you brought that up, I mean that, too.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Lena pulls herself away, now sitting on Kara’s thighs.

“Dead serious. I’m cute, funny, and I have abs. And as you already know, my strap game is rather incredible. Ask yourself if you deserve the hot package.”

Lena sighs, looking like she’s really considering it. “Kara.”

“I’m a hot item.”

“Come on now, Kara…”

Kara sighs and turns her head to the side, dramatically.

Lena shakes her head. “This doesn’t need to be complicated.”

Kara frowns. “Oh, I see it now. All this time, the only reason why you like me is because of my strap game. I should have known.”

“Oh my god.”

Kara fake sniffs. “No matter, Lena. You’re my favourite person. I still love you, even knowing this.”

Lena mock slaps her on the shoulder, turning it into a gentle hand when it moves up on Kara’s cheek.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? And pretty, too,” Lena murmurs. Kara takes Lena’s hand off her cheek and presses a kiss to the palm, eyes never leaving Lena’s. Lena’s cheeks darken with colour.

“You’re prettier.”

Lena swallows. “Kara, I—”

“I can’t take this any longer.” Alex opens the door loudly and stomps her way inside. “Can you two stop fucking flirting for one goddamn minute?”

“Alex, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Lena states, blinking. “Kara, darling, could you please remove your hand from my boob?”

Kara gives Lena’s boob a soft squeeze, her other hand cupping bare skin from where she's slipped her hand underneath Lena's sweater.

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay, then.”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, covering her face with her hands. “I want to go home. I need to go—now. I got what I wanted a while ago.”

“Love you, Alex. You are more than welcome to,” Kara tells her. “You’ve been here in Lena’s penthouse long enough.”

“What—you talk as if you haven’t been here all day, too.” Lena frowns.

“It’s the weekend—no work, no other stuff. What’s wrong with spending my free time with my best friend?” Kara says, cupping Lena’s face lovingly.

Lena smiles. “You’re sweet.”

Alex stares at them, horrified. “Wow, it’s like… it’s like listening to highschoolers on a first date!”

“Um, but we aren't dating, Alex,” Kara reminds her sister gently.

“No, no, you're right, Kara. You aren't dating,” Alex agrees, and takes a deep, deep breath. “You're fucking married,” she hisses, wild-eyed. “I was the goddamn maid of honour at your wedding. You live here and you co-parent a cat with Lena. You've been married for like, three years now. Which makes your strange, awful flirting so much worse, Kara Danvers-Luthor!"

Kara and Lena only look at each other, snickering.

———

(not-so?) SURPRISE THEY’RE MARRIED

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable  ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 8

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3   Chapter 4 Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8

“Heartbreak looks good on you...” My sister commented impishly, watching me slip the teardrop earring into my lobe, the ruby red stone glinting in the dimlight of the bedroom. 

It was a couple of weeks since my uncle had come over and today, all the important clan leaders from around the country would be heading over to pay their respects to him. As one of the oldest surviving vampires, he commanded a lot of respect and no one really wanted to be on his bad side. 

Which just made me love Jungkook all the more because I couldn’t forget how he’d literally thrown himself in between us that day. I wanted to give him  everything  in return but apparently, all i was allowed to give him was space. 

My father had visited me everyday , giving me a very cryptic, ‘ I’ll make sure the two of you get your happy ending, dearest but you need to trust me and stay away for a while. Just a while. ’. 

But it seemed so impossible, so far away and just so unlikely that I was beginning to lose hope. 

It didn’t help that I hadn’t actually seen Jungkook in these two weeks . Namjoon took his place and my only connection to him was Joowon , who told me his father was busy ...that he stayed with Hwasa most evenings . I felt jittery and nervous and even more so today because of the lavish party being hosted in the Grand Ball Room, which was easily the biggest room in the entire estate. The last time it had been opened was for my parent’s wedding a whole two centuries ago.  

For once I couldn’t hide in the daycare in sweats. My uncle apparently insisted that i be present for the party tonight. 

It only made my anxiety skyrocket. 

I was a mess when it came to formal parties with century old vampires. I had all the formal training of course, but still the etiquette lessons were long forgotten and lot of those cranky old bats had very archaic ideas about what was allowed and what wasn’t. 

I  didn’t want some entitled century old vampire pawing at my neck for a drink tonight. I really didn’t. 

But i had done my part. Put on a red dress, the backline dipping all the way down to the base of my spine , let one of the make up artists in the clan have a go at my face and even put on blood red lipstick. 

I grunted , trying to yank the small lace and leather garter up my thigh. It had a holster for a dagger, the small ornate silver one that all the women in the clan carried. The dagger was crafted with the Hwang crest on its handle and I carefully sheathed it in, patting my thigh to make sure it wouldn’t slip down my limb. 

“Don’t make fun of my misery.” I glared at her and she actually laughed. 

“Sera, you feel too much too deeply. Jungkook isn’t going anywhere. He’ll come around. “ She said gently.

I shook my head.

“I don’t want to wait though. I... I don’t know why I hate waiting but I do..”

“He looks like a kinky bastard. Tell me, did you guys try anything ...I don’t know..risky?”

Nothing riskier than getting edged in front of a whole hotel full of guests and then getting fucked in the back of a car. Oh, did I tell you he spit in my mouth? And I loved it.

“Not really.” I lied but I could feel my face heating up as I turned around, back to the mirror as i felt my ears burning.

My sister shrieked so loud I jumped, nearly knocking over the bottle of perfume on the dresser.

“Oh my God, Sera, you naughty little bint! Tell me now!!!” She screeched and i flushed.

Like hell i was telling my sister what we had done.

“It’s private!!” I hissed when she tried to yank me and she laughed. 

“You’re shy... aww that’s cute. But that’s just because you recently got un-virgined . Bet you  can’t wait for him to desecrate your special place again, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows. 

“That is the single most disgusting thing you’ve ever said.” I gagged.

She laughed again. 

“Relax. He was your first. Happens . But like I said, don’t worry about him being serious about this. I think he is. You guys had sex and dad knows that. And yet somehow he’s still walking around with his had attached to his shoulders. Do you really think father would have let him live if he didn’t have feelings for you?”

I frowned.

“That’s not fair. It was consensual. He didn’t force me into anything or tell me he had feelings ....”

She scoffed at that. 

“Please tell me you still don’t think he hasn’t got feelings for you. He went batshit-crazy when you went on that date with Yugyeom. Jimin thought he was having a stroke or something. Dude’s so gone for you it isn’t even funny.”

“ Fat lot of good that does me! ” I snapped. “ If he doesn’t acknowledge those feelings he might as well not have any. And so far he’s made it abundantly clear that he’s not going to act on them. Ever.” 

“Because he’s clearly involved in something dangerous.” She said easily, making me blink.  “I’m not supposed to be telling you this but I’m kind of sick of you moping around like the world is ending and I’m just going to trust you to be smart about it.”

“What do you mean dangerous?” I whirled around to glare at her, pulse racing. 

“I have no clue. Dad and Jungkook are working on something.  But they’ve been huddled in the administrative building for three days now and no one has seen them . So i don’t really know what it is they’re planning. But I’ve always wondered if Jungkook was hiding from something. It would explain why he’d work as a bodyguard...with his skills he could be so much more.  ”

Frustration bloomed,  this time laced with worry. I wanted to know what was going on. God, if i could only see him. A glimpse would be enough. Just to make sure he was okay. Just to hear from him that he was okay. That he was going to be safe. 

“Think he’ll be at the party?”  I asked softly, feeling a whole lot pathetic at the way my heart lurched hopefully. 

My sister gave me a very mischievous smile. 

“Maybe . Maybe not. You look ravishing by the way.  And everyone out there wants you. Literally. Don’t forget that. Don’t be easy. Make him beg a little. ” She winked. 

I frowned. 

“He won’t beg. He’ll turn the tables around and make me cry.” I shuddered.  . Which really wouldn’t be that hard . I felt like I was always on the verge of tears these days. 

The knock on the door made us both look up. 

“Who’s escorting you tonight?” My sister asked gently. 

I shrugged. 

“No one. I’m just gonna walk in there by myself because I hate all of you. ” I grabbed the small bejeweled clutch from the table and hesitated just a second. 

God , I had no strength for tonight but there was a possibility that Jungkook could be there tonight. And I wanted to see him, if for no other reason than to kick him in the teeth. 

 I slipped into the strappy peep toe heels, stumbling a little because i wasn’t used to them. 

Swearing at the sharp pain shooting up my heel and shin, I wrenched the door open. Ignoring the simpering man on the other side, i stalked right past him. 

It was going to be a long , long night 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ballroom looked ....for lack of a better word : overwhelming. 

Whoever was in charge of the decoration had clearly taken the budget, quadrupled it and then pretty much ordered one of everything. I stared at the sheer overdose of satin and gauze and felt myself shuddering. 

Red and black was the theme for the night and I half wished I’d chosen to wear something in turquoise blue just to give my eyes some sort of relief. But there was no denying that it looked especially lavish, the huge hall big enough to fit a dozen foot ball fields, the high ceiling that seemed to stretch right up to the heavens and the million candelabras and chandeliers hung all over the place. 

The carpeted floors felt soft under my foot and it was still early, only a few pople flitting about while the ushers and helpers rushed about, tweaking deatils, rechecking placement charts, placing refreshments on the table. Small bottles of blood arranged neatly on the table and I rolled my shoulders, eyes darting around to find someone familiar. 

Kim Minjae and Kim Mingyu were just entering the hall and I grimaced. God, no. But i watched as they casually posed in front of the blood red backdrop, while cameras flashed and i frowned. Were supernatural tabloids really that starved for material? 

“Sera, go on, you need to get your picture taken too!” My aunt materialized out of nowhere , dressed in a puffy red gown with ruffles and I shook my head. 

“Later... i need a drink.” I said quickly, escaping her clingy fingers and rushing away . 

As the only human in the entire damn place, I would have to walk all the way to the bar on the far corner of the ballroom to beg for a drink. 

I was half way there when a commotion at the door made me look up. My father had arrived with him a majority of his counsel and a bunch of other guests as well. I stared, my eyes zeroing in on a very familiar figure , my father’s arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Jeon Jungkook stood right next to my father dressed to the nines and with a dazzling smile in place. 

I gawked at him. 

Trying to process what it was that I was seeing. 

He was smiling. He had the audacity to smile after ignoring me for two whole weeks. 

I took a deep breath.

“You better have a pretty darn good explanation for the radio silence you treated me to the past two weeks. “ I intoned dully to myself , trying to ignore the way he looked, completely at ease in the spotlight. 

He turned a little to the left and his gaze caught mine. I watched as he smiled and shook hands with the people around him before whispering something to my father. 

I dug my heels into the floor, glaring as he extricated himself from the elite crowd and slowly began walking over. God, i wanted to kick him so bad. 

He stopped in front of me, looking expectant and my anger merely doubled in intensity. 

“Anything you wanna say, Jeon?” I snapped. 

“You’re beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Red is your color, angel. I wanna see you in it more often. “ He answered at once. 

My mind went distressingly blank for a whole thirty second. 

“ Did i fucking offer? ” I demanded , angry. “ I’m not dressing up for you. Ever. You ignored me for two entire weeks Jungkook! i didn’t know where you were...what you were doing...” 

“Sera, I’m sor -” He began but I squawked in disbelief, shoving him away hard. He stumbled, more in surprise than from the impact but he looked surprised .  

I felt myself shaking in anger. How dare he?

“Oh, no. No. You do not get to waltz back in with a simple sorry.... not after treating me like shit the past two weeks...Absolutely not.” I snarled, shoving him again but this time he didn’t budge. Ugh. 

I made to move past him but he grabbed my elbow , yanking me back till I crashed into his chest. It was humiliating , the way my body practically vibrated with pleasure from being near him. His arms around me felt like heaven and I’d spent two whole weeks in purgatory. 

“You need to stay with me Ms. Hwang. I’m your bodyguard, remember?” He whispered, lips pressing against my neck, breathing in my scent  and I glared at his arms.

“No you’re not. Namjoon is!! Where is he?” I asked angrily , but he pulled me closer, hands resting on the bare skin of my back as he hugged me tight, lips latching onto my neck, breathing deep and my knees buckled. i had missed this. So much and even if this was all i got, I wanted to savor it. Savor it even if I hated him for the way he treated me all the fucking time.  

“Missed you.” He whispered, lips wet and wanting , damp on my skin as he pressed kisses along my shoulder. I loved it but I knew he was going to leave me again and that just made me angrier. 

“You’re a liar.” I choked out. 

“No. I’ve lied about a lot of things but never about how you’ve made me feel, Sera. You set me on fire.”

I choked, anger and affection flooding my senses, confounding me because it was like being caught in an endless game of push and pull. 

I trembled, fists punching his shoulder in protest but he didn’t move. I could feel eyes on us and it made me flush. How dare he... How fucking dare he. 

“Let go of me! You said you don’t want me so let me go!” I said petulantly and he made a small noise of protest. 

“That’s not true angel...you know it’s not. I want you... Want you so damn bad , i ache with it.” He whispered the words into my skin and I bristled. 

“Fucking liar, let go of me!” i was going to cry. Actually burst into tears in the middle of the ballroom. 

He didn’t let go of me. 

Instead his fingers fluttered down my bare back, feather light and maddening , tracing a path down my bare skin and I gripped is jacket at the electric contact. 

i trembled, my thighs shaking but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I wanted him. I swallowed, shaking my head. 

There was no music and we weren’t even near the dance floor. I couldn’t imagine how we must look to the people around us. But it was hard to think of that when I could feel him all over my body, could feel his heartbeat pulse right against mine and when his arms felt like an anchor , grounding me . 

“You think I need you.” My voice shook a little, “ I really fucking don’t Jungkook and I want you to remember that. I don’t need you. I don’t need to touch you . I’m fine with you never touching me ever again. ” I lied, gripping him harder. 

My words didn’t match my actions at all and he seemed to realize it, chuckling lightly and letting me press myself closer into his warm, solid body. He kept his arms around me, waist pressed into mine and thighs hard and solid against mine.

“I know that... i need you far more than you need me.” He said sweetly, kissing my brow and stroking my hair. He slipped his fingers into the strands, running the silky length between his fingertips , his voice brimming with fondness . It hurt, the fact that I couldn’t have this all the time. 

That somehow I was only offered glimpses of this Jungkook. Little snapshots of a what our life together could be but when I tried to draw closer, he always pulled away. 

I glared at him wanting to demand more answers 

. And then my eyes fell on the small dagger sheathed into his belt. My sister’s words floated into my mind. Was Jungkook running from something? 

“Are you in danger?” I whispered, softly. “ Darling, i need to know if you’re in trouble. I need to know.” 

He trembled a little at the endearment. 

“Baby, I’m going to be fine. Don’t worry about me alright. It’s important that you stay safe. “

The words brought no comfort of any kind. 

I stared at him. 

“What is it with the people around me spewing platitudes in my face without telling me what is going on! Do you just not trust me?” I asked desperately, hurt blooming. 

Jungkook swallowed.

“i trust you with my entire life Sera. But, I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He said gently.

I rolled my eyes. 

“Please....you’re five centuries old , so can you leave the whole cliché knight in shining armor back in the dark ages and just treat me like your equal? I’m not a helpless damsel in distress Jungkook...!!” 

He nodded, reaching for me again but I pulled away, wrapping an arm around myself. He hesitated, hands stretched out to touch but hovering a few inches away . 

“you’re right. I was out of line. But to be fair your father was very firm that I had to stay away from you...no contact of any kind till tonight. “

“And what’s so special about tonight.?” I asked , upset at how little i knew about what was going on. Jungkook’s gaze softened, and he pressed a palm to my cheek, thumb tracing circles on my jaw, before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. 

“ You’ll see. “ He smiled, “ And as for the rest of it, we’ll talk about this . I promise. We will....tonight after everything ends. I need to go now. Your father’s waiting for me,” 

I clung to him, feeling abandoned all over again. 

“What are you guys upto?” I grabbed his arm but he gently pulled my fingers away. 

“I’ll come find you. “ Was all he said before moving away and I groaned in disbelief. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uh oh. I can recognize that look. On a scale of one to ten , how much trouble is Jeon Jungkook in?” Namjoon asked gently, watching me glare daggers at the man in question as he hung around near the front of the hall, surrounded by clan leaders.

 He was meeting everyone, apparently a social butterfly and i couldn’t fathom it. The last time we’d had a party he’d sneaked off to get laid with Helena. 

Speaking of who,

“She’s going to castrate him. I can feel it.” The sultry eyed vampire, sat next to me, her long nails tapping the scarlet drape of the table as she watched me, eyes heavy and hot, gaze trained on my neck.

 I’d never felt more like prey. 

“ Nice to meet you Helena.” Namjoon said casually taking the seat next to me. Great.  I was caught between two vampires that knew exactly how gone I was for Jungkook and exactly how ....not gone he was for me.  The night just kept getting better. 

“Always a pleasure daddy.” Helena said , eyes dancing with wicked mischief and Namjoon choked on his wine, spewing it all over the table. I stared at the pair in disgust. 

“Disgusting.” I snapped. “Look at him. He hasn’t looked at me in an hour. How am i supposed to believe that he wants me so much I set his skin on fire.” I demanded shrilly. 

Both of them went quiet. They looked very uncomfortable and i felt myself flush. 

I glared at them , self conscious. 

“What?! Jungkook said so himself.” I protested. 

Both of them began guffawing. 

“I’m never letting him live this down.” Namjoon chuckled and I rolled my eyes. I could feel eyes on me, everywhere. Everyone’s gaze flitted to me every few minutes. Some of the younger vampires hovered a discreet distance away but had their gazes trained on me . 

Everyone looked at me except Jungkook. There really was no justice in this god forsaken world, was there? 

Did he really think I was weak and harmless? I suddenly felt foolish . I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t powerless. 

So , so far from it in fact.

I didn’t use my abilities because of how morally ambiguous they were. My father had drilled it into my head, right from childhood, that I couldn’t use my powers without explicit permission from him and I had listened to him. 

Had played the role of the harmless human who just happened to have really intoxicating blood inside her veins. 

But somehow that had ended up with me being pushed out of the loop with the man I loved. Jungkook thought I was some kind of helpless damsel he needed to keep safe and it just...it irked me. 

It was laughable that he thought something could be dangerous to me. 

It was laughable because I  was  easily the most dangerous creature in this entire room. 

i pulled my phone out, texting furiously.

 I want to see you. 

 I stared at Jungkook waiting for him to see. He pulled his phone out read the screen and to my utter chagrin he slipped the phone back in without answering.

 All right, That’s it.  

I stood up slowly, Namjoon stiffening next to me. 

“Where are you going? “ He asked warily. 

“To mingle.” I said casually. “ you can stay here, daddy. I’ll be fine by myself. “

He spluttered again and Helena laughed lowly. 

“I like her. “ Her voice rang out and i smirked, making a beeline to wards the front of the room, where Jungkook stood with a few other vampires around the same age as him. They all straightened at the sight of me, lust evident in their eyes and I saw Jungkook go a little stiff when he noticed I was alone.

“Where’s Namjoon?” He said shortly. 

“With Helena.” i said with a shrug.” Evening gentlemen.” I smiled softly, parting my lips lightly, letting my tongue dart out and wet them before leaving them parted, tongue peeking out. 

Jungkook pressed in closer, arm darting to wrap around my waist but he seemed to think better of it, pulling away again. 

“Sera...” He began warningly but i cut him off. Jungkook didn’t know what he had. 

And I was too fucking beautiful to be ignored tonight. 

“Isn’t someone starting the music? What a terrible bore this party has been...” I said loudly and the men scrambled closer, almost tripping over each other. 

Pathetic really but at least they served their purpose. 

“Should we get you another drink, Sera?” One of them said. 

“Let me go find that Dj...” The tallest of the lot wandered off. 

“You’re right..are you hungry..? Where’s that waiter?” The one right next to me lifted a hand, waving the nearest uniformed helped and I smirked at Jungkook. 

“Having fun?” I asked. 

“You need to go stay with Namjoon.” He said stiffly.

“where’s the fun in that? “ I hesitated, locking my eyes with him and lightly lifting my heel up to rest on the chair right next to him. The slit in my dress fell open, exposing the entire length of my leg, especially the red lace of my garter. 

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the dagger strapped to my thigh, the red and gold stark against the milky white flesh. I rand a forefinger up from my knee to the top of the garter belt, lightly circling the tip over the sharp edge of the dagger. 

“Don’t...” He growled. I smirked.

“Don’t what?” I whispered. 

“Don’t fucking do it, baby... I’ll be really , really mad if you do. “ He was almost shaking with the effort to not grab me and i could feel it. Feel the urge to put me in my place, simmering beneath his skin but he was helpless. 

Any wrong move on me and he would have a dozen daggers in his heart within the next second. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about .” I feigned ignorance, purposefully pressing the thick of my finger into the edge of the dagger, gasping as it broke skin, tearing my flesh and drawing out my blood. 

A collective gasp ran through the crowd around us and it was quite the sight, an entire group of century old Vampires going stiff as boards,  nostrils flared pupils blown wide open as they all stared at me .

 I smiled wide, trying to inject a note of contrition into my voice. 

“Oops. That was clumsy of me. .” I giggled, holding my finger up. the blood beaded over and spilled , trickling down my wrist and I locked my gaze with Jungkook’s, bringing my arm up, licking the scarlet fluid up, tracing its path with my tongue all the way to where the dagger had nicked me before sticking the finger into my mouth with a lewd pop. 

A vampire, about three feet away from me was breathing heavily , grabbing the chair next to him and sinking into it. His fangs were out and his breathing was erratic. i watched his eyes flash red and I laughed.

“I’m sorry. “ I said sweetly and he gave me a blank smile.

“That’s alright, my lady . “ He was almost choking from the effort to stay composed. Poor thing. I let my gaze flit back to Jungkook who had a terrifyingly blank look on his face. 

“You little whore.” Jungkook whispered softly and i lurched. 

“Yours . If you want me. But if you don’t...then anyone’s really.” I shrugged unrepentant. 

“Really? You think any of the vampires here’s gonna want you after the stunt you just pulled? No one wants a needy little slut.” He said casually but I could see him shaking a little. There was a teeny tiny crack in that cocky attitude and I’d never wanted to stick my fingers in something so bad. 

I felt myself grin in anticipation. 

“It’s not about what I think, Jungkook. Its about what I  know.” 

He stared at me. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You think I’m helpless, Jungkookie.... But the truth is... I can turn every single person here into my own personal  marionette if i wanted to. “ I shrugged. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted, lips parting in surprise. 

“I’m listening.” 

I moved to the table in the corner, patting the chair next to me. He took the seat next to me and I smiled. 

“Now watch....” I snapped my fingers, signaling the waiter with the glass jar of lemon soda  and vodka in his tray. 

“Can you let my father know I want to leave the party early with Jungkook here?” I asked gently. The waiter flushed, but nodded and I casually slipped my finger into the lemonade jar, dipping lightly in the fluid.

Jungkook grimaced . 

“That’s disgusting.” 

I laughed. 

“Now let’s see who gets to drink it.” I followed the waiter as he moved around stopping in front of a group of very young vampires, about four or five of them. Two girls and three guys. They all took glasses of vodka from the waiter and i sighed.

“You know what makes my blood so powerful Jungkookie? “ I said softly. “ It’s the fact that it is  sentient.” 

Jungkook went stock still still next to me, lips parting in shock.

“What?” He croaked. 

I nodded.

“My blood is sentient. It can feel and see and control. If my blood mixes with yours, it will dominate your thoughts and feelings. I will literally take over you. But it also needs my instruction. So it’ll put you in a trance..... Leave you feeling boneless and disoriented , easier to manipulate. People think its because it tastes so good and they enjoy the feeling. They don’t know what the fuck they’re opening themselves up to...by letting me inside. “ I wrapped my arms around myself. 

“I’m painted as the beautiful, kind and precious human who needs to be protected....only because I am anything  but. In this room, Jungkook....I’m probably the one capable of wrecking the most havoc.” 

“Sera...”

“Nobody knows except for my father and I because...well... just the scent of it makes people chase me down. Can you imagine what they’d do to me if they knew the true extent of my powers.” I said bitterly. I let my gaze shift back to the kids with the drinks. The drinks that were tainted with my life essence.  

I watched them take sips of their drink and felt the mild tingling in the back of my head. Like a gossamer thread forming and wrapping around me and I swallowed. It was easy to ignore and I never had any trouble ignoring it when I let my family feed from me. Because I trusted them. 

But these kids though. My body thrummed, focusing on one person. 

The girl in the red halter top. 

“See the girl with the red top and black skirt....” I swallowed. “ She slit the throat of an old woman on her way here.” 

Jungkook swore next to me. 

“I can see the woman... she’s on her knees , begging for her life. She’s really old.” 

That wasn’t all. i could feel the grip of the dagger, the push of the blade against skin, the pull as the flesh gave in, the blood spurting out onto my fingers the scent of death as she bled out. 

I felt nausea bubble and I severed the connection forcibly. The girl’s pretty face didn’t match her filthy insides. i couldn’t stay in her head. The tendrils began wrapping around my head as  the four of them took more sips. 

“When I want... i can influence their thoughts. It takes more effort but it’s possible. it’s why my father wanted to make sure you actually wanted to be with me. He thought I’d coerced you . which I can . if I want. But I didn’t. I don’t do that ever. ” I shook my head. 

Jungkook’s brows raised. 

“By coerce you mean....”

“It can be as simple as influence your decision... but if I really put in the effort, i can make people physically do what I wanted. “ 

“Physically?”

I smiled.

“Remember the boys from my college ? the ones who nearly drained me out?” 

He nodded. 

“My father didn’t have them defanged. They did it to themselves. Literally stuck their own hand into their mouth and ripped their fangs out . Because I wanted them too.” 

Jungkook looked like he’d stopped breathing. 

I swallowed.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you that if you’re trying to protect me by withholding information, its kind of unnecessary. I can take care of myself.” 

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

“Just tell me what’s going on  “ I sighed.  Jungkook gave me a piercing look. 

“Remember Joo Won’s mother?” 

“The witch you killed?”

“Her father’s out for my blood. He doesn’t know where I am as of now. Your father thinks one of his lackeys must be in attendance today so he’ll know where I am.... and  he’ll come for me. And when he does... I’m going to end it .”

I stared at him.

“ Okay. “ I swallowed. “ How dangerous is he?” 

Jungkook laughed without mirth. 

“I’m not sure if I’m coming out of this alive.” 

Blood rushed to my ears, so fast I felt momentarily lightheaded. My entire body rejected the mere idea of Jungkook getting hurt. And to hear him talk of it so lightly, it messed me up badly. The fragile hold I had on my mind snapped. 

“No.” I said angrily. 

Across the room, the girl in the red halter stumbled,  clutching her head .

  Anger and the urge to hurt clawed up inside me and I tried to get it under control. 

Fuck, I had to sever the connection fully before i did something terrible to her..

 But it wasn’t happening, 

In fact the more i tried to get away the more her conscience seemed to be wrapping around mine., 

 Distance. I had to put distance between us. 

I need to leave now,  I pushed the thought in through the connection and  i watched her as she stumbled away from her friends, hands buried in her hair.

“Sera what the fuck... “ Jungkook grabbed my arm, eyes wide and panicked and I trembled. 

I felt guilty and scared because there was a reason i didn’t do this and the reason was quite simple. This power...or whatever you wanted to call it, It was bigger than me. I couldn’t control it . 

My blood was sentient and sometimes it could control me , just as easily as it controlled others. 

“She’s just leaving... I just made her leave because I’m not .. I can’t. ...fuck...” My head swam as I tried to get my bearings. 

“ okay that’s it...we’re getting out of here.... ” Jungkook stood up, reaching for me and I blinked, disoriented and dizzy. “Come here, baby I got you...” 

I let him wrap his hand around my waist, half lifting , half dragging me out of the ballroom and into the hallway. I gripped his chest, stumbling. I wasn’t tired, just struggling to get my head on straight . 

But the scent of him calmed me. 

“I need you.” I whispered. “ I need you to be safe Jungkook. I’ve spent too long pretending to be something I’m not but with you... I’m.. You... You make me feel human. Truly human. “ 

“Fuck... hang on. I’m gonna take you to my cottage.”

I blinked

“your what?”

“My cottage. Hang on...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Jungkook opened the door to the cottage, I felt a little like myself again. But my body thrummed , my skin on fire, my fingers trembling with adrenaline. 

“you look like you need to lie down.” He said gently.

I glared at him. 

“The last thing I need is to lie down.” I snapped.

He held his hands up.

“Alright. Calm down, baby..... Why are you so upset?” He asked soothingly and I scoffed.

“ You fucked me in public and the next day  you looked like you’d been handed a death sentence, when my father suggested that you court me and then... you disappeared for two whole weeks....and now you turn up and tell me that your life is in danger. You do all this shit and I’m  not allowed to be upset? ” I said angrily.

He hesitated. 

“I merely meant it would be dangerous. I am not actively trying to die.” He said softly.

“As for the rest of it.... I’m not the same person I was a month ago Sera.... You.. You’ve managed to claw you way into my heart and the only reason I didn’t want to court you was because of what I was involved in. I told you that...the baggage I’m carrying is too much for me to even think about being with you.... That’s the only reason. “

I stared at him. 

“Are you telling me you fell for me too?”

Jungkook smirked a little.

“You were fucking me all the time without touching me. How could I not fall for that utterly shameless gaze of yours. You were your heart on your sleeve and your heart is always filled with filthy thoughts about me Sera. You make it way too obvious. “ He said teasingly. 

“I don’t want you to die.” I said petulantly. 

“That makes two of us. “ He smiled. “ What do you want, Sera?” 

“Want you.” I said automatically, too raw and upset to think too much about it.

“You have me.” He stepped closer, hands resting on my shoulder, eyes earnest and i hated how much I wanted to believe him . But heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak had taught me that it was all a lie. I didn’t have him and now ....there was a possibility I could never have him. 

“No, I don’t.” I shook my head, angry. “ Don’t lie to me. I don’t have you.” 

Jungkook made to touch me again but I shoved him away, hard.

“you’re angry. “ He said thoughtfully. “ I understand that. You have every right to be angry. And I’m sorry I can’t tell you what you want to hear right now...Not until this whole debacle ends. But Sera...look at me...”

I bit my lips staring at him.

“I’m here. Now. I’m not going anywhere. It’s just us. You and I. Don’t worry about what happens next. Don’t. Let’s not worry about any of that. I’m here and I’m telling you I’m yours. You have me now.” 

I stared at him, tilting my head as I took him in. 

He didn’t move , merely staring at me evenly.

“You know.... you aren’t the only one who hates being ignored.” I said softly. 

I felt weird. 

Different. 

None of the usual nervousness or anticipation but instead a sort of burning need to  take. To reach out and pin him down , force him to follow through on his promise that I  had him. 

“ I’ve been giving too much of myself to you, Jungkook ...for way too long. I think it’s time I get something back.” I whispered. 

His lips curled in a small, impish smile and he looked a decade younger. His eyes flashed with mischief and anticipation. He looked eager....desperate even and I wondered if this is what I looked like all the time with him. 

“And what would that be...my queen?” he whispered meekly. 

“You. “ I said simply. “ All of you. Your words... your pain...your pleasure... your moans and your very breath. I want to take all of it.” 

I could see his pupils dilating even from the distance between us. 

“Its yours, sweetheart” Jungkook  bowed his head gently, holding his arms out. “Tell me where you want me...how you want me...” 

I glanced around the room. Not the bed. Not yet. 

There was a very sturdy looking chair in front of the small table in the corner. 

“Put that in the middle of the room and sit down.” I pointed at the chair. 

He smiled.

“You want me to stay dressed?” He asked carefully and I nodded. 

“Very well.” He moved to get the chair, placing it in  front of the bed. He sat down carefully. 

“Anything else?” He asked gently.

I narrowed my eyes at him 

“Yes. Keep your mouth shut unless I ask you something.” I said with a smile. His eyes widened in surprise. But he didn’t protest. 

I took in the sight of him on the chair, dressed in his perfectly fitted tux , legs spread and hands on his knees, eyes wide and alert as he stared at me. Pretty red mouth shut obediently. 

I moved closer till I was standing right between his thighs. His hands came up to grip my waists instinctively and I glared.

“Hands’ to yourself Jungkook. You don’t just get to treat me as you fucking like and then touch me without my permission.” I snapped. 

He lowered his hands , letting them rest on his knees again.

“Do you want to touch me , baby?” I whispered pressed my palm to his face before letting my fingers trail up to his hair. it was soft and silky to the touch, the strands like fine silk. 

“Yes.” He answered simply. 

“Then you need to earn it.” I threaded my fingers' into his raven locks, gripping hard and yanking his head back . i stared, fascinated by the ivory length of his neck, the little mole there and i pressed a kiss to his skin. I let my teeth sink in , just a little and then a little bit more. When he shifted, I pulled back, licking the skin to soothe the sting.  His breath caught and he gasped, eyes widening a bit and a small, ‘ fuck’ leaving his lips. 

I pulled back , keeping my fingers in his hair , gripping lightly, before reaching down with my free hand. 

“You have such a pretty neck and it make me wonder what it feels for your kind...sinking your teeth into people and feeding from them. Too bad I don’t have fangs. But you know what I do have?” I winked . 

I brought my leg up, the front end of my shoe resting on the small empty space on the chair , right in the V if his legs. If he moved even a little, my toes would brush the straining length of his cock visible even through the black of his slacks. He was so hard I knew it must’ve hurt. 

I gripped his hair harder and tilted his head down to he could stare at my thighs, specifically the dagger in my garter. 

“I want a taste . Of you. Can I?” I asked gently staring at him, fingers fiddling with the dagger and unsheathing it. 

He nodded. 

“Words. Please.” I smiled.

“Yes...fuck yes.....please...Sera...” 

“Good boy.” I winked, bringing the dagger up to his neck. It was really sharp and I used the tip to lightly draw a small dash, an inch below his ear. I watched the blade tear through the flesh, light and delicate, the skin cleaving and scarlet liquid bubbling up. I chased the flow with my tongue, licking it into my mouth and Jungkook trembled in the chair, jerking forward.

The movement jolted my foot onto his crotch and he grunted, grabbing my ankle when I made to move it away, keeping my heeled foot on his clothed cock. I swallowed,  little out of my league but i stared at him, at the sheer intensity of the desperation in his eyes and I inhaled ....before gently bringing my toes down to press into his cock. 

He moaned, thighs trembling and I  dropped the dagger to the floor.

I slipped both my hands into his hair, holding his head in place as i bent low to capture his lips with mine, sticking my tongue inside his mouth while grinding my foot down into his cock. I licked into his mouth, chasing the warm heady taste of him, my fingers tightening in his hair for leverage and I wondered if he was wet.... If his cock was weeping precum, dribbling into his slacks .

I pulled back to stare into his eyes but he had them shut.

“Look at me.!” i demanded,”  wanna see you...” 

His eyes fluttered open, doe- like and warm and swimming with pleasure and I’d never felt more powerful in my life. I moved my foot slowly, in small controlled circles for a few seconds. 

“You wanna cum in your pants like this? Rutting on my foot like a little mutt? Or do you want to get on the bed and touch me like you wanted to...?” I whispered softly. 

Jungkook swallowed and his fingers tightened on my ankle. . 

“Wanna cum like this.” He said taking me by surprise. I raised an eyebrow. 

“Really... then what about me...?  I want to get fucked too Jungkook ..? How’re you gonna do that if you cum so fast.....” I snapped, gripping his hair harder and he groaned. 

“I... I’ll fuck you again... i promise.. I’ll fuck you hard and make you feel good... just..let me cum...please.. It fucking hurts...” The way his voice cracked a bit on the last few words made my heart jerk inside my ribs. I found myself fighting the urge to give him everything. 

I smiled instead, kissing his lips again.

“Thank God for fast refractory periods huh, my big bad vampire?” I bit his lips, tugging it between my teeth , before reaching between us and slipping the shoe off my foot. Jungkook trembled, gripping me for support when I pulled my foot away and I let him cling to me for a second, before dropping the shoe down and pressing my bare foot on his erection. I spread my toes over the head, pressing down just a little and he inhaled sharply when i circled my toe on the wet patch . 

“Go on them. Make yourself cum.” I whispered, leaning down and kissing him again. He grabbed my ankle with both hands, rutting up into the balls of my feet, hips thrusting up and I let him lick into my mouth, messy and wet as he chased his pleasure. 

I felt him stiffen underneath me, followed by a wash of dampness under my sole and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close and letting him bury his face into my neck as he trembled through the aftershocks. He gripped my waist, hands shaking as he held me and i waited, worried if I should take my foot off or not. I could feel my legs beginning to cramp and I swallowed.

“You okay?” i whispered.

“Yeah.” He grunted. “ Fuck..that was...” he laughed a little. 

“We’re not done.” I said pressing a kiss to his cheeks and stroking his hair back gently. 

He hummed, gently gripping my ankle and lifting my foot off his crotch. I brought my leg down, wincing a bit. 

“Should we get on the bed?” He whispered. 

I nodded, yelping when he stood up with me still in his arms, he carried me over to the bed, dropping me lightly. 

“Strip.” I said quickly. “ All of it. Want you naked and stretched out on this bed for me.” 

He moved quickly, stepping out of his clothes with ease and I sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the black tie he discarded. I took off my panties, leaving my dress and the garter belt on. 

 Jungkook naked was a sight i could never tire off and I watched as he climbed into the bed, lying down in the center, legs splayed slightly and hands by his side. 

“Bring your wrists together up over your head” I said quickly and he moved his wrists up , letting me tie them to the head board with his tie as i sat straddled on his chest. I was wet, sopping wet and I felt the trail of dampness I left on his rock hard abs. 

“I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna make me cum. And then , I’m gonna ride you .” I whispered. 

“Fuck.” 

“That’s the plan.”

I scooted forward, resting one knee close to either shoulder before gripping the head board with one hand and the hair on top of his head with the other. Tugging him closer, I lowered my pussy onto his mouth, groaning when i felt soft pressure of his tongue against my center, licking tentatively. 

Jungkook knew what he was doing, and he licked into me with practiced ease tongue slipping into my slit, curling against the walls, before tracing circles around my clit. He used his lips to suckled on the hardened nub , following it up with quick little licks and i slipped a hand between my legs, stuffing three fingers into my cunt to get myself off faster. 

“Oh...fuck... I want... “ I could feel myself shaking and he sped up his movement, licking my lit in quick little strokes and my orgasm hit me like a wave, drowning me in pleasure. I scooted down before losing my strength, collapsing on top of him. The orgasm having knocked me right out of my headspace. I was trembling and shaking, lethargic and completely out of it. 

”Baby...you okay?” Jungkook’s concerned voice came from above and I whimpered. 

“I’m... I’m sorry.... I’m so tired... I...” 

“Don’t worry baby .. i got you. “

I heard the sound of wood splintering and blinked, glancing up. Jungkook had tugged his hands free from the restraint, breaking the headboard in the process. 

I gawked at the scene in disbelief. 

“Did you just....?”

He grabbed the hem of my dress, ripping it up and off me quickly. 

“Fuck..... want to pound you into the fucking mattress my little princess... Such a little tiger aren’t you kitten... so fierce and hot... i loved it baby...you were so good to me ...made me feel so fucking good...” He maneuvered me onto my back and i felt myself blushing at the praise, face heating up as i gripped his shoulders. 

He grabbed the back of my thigh, spreading my legs before lining himself up against my pussy. 

“Fuck...” He slid right in , knocking the breath out of me and i clung to him, whimpering as he pounded into me, hips working so fact I was sure I was going to have trouble walking for a week after this. 

I could feel my orgasm build from the sheer intensity of the thrusts, the hard thick length of his cock pounding into my cunt till i felt swollen and bruised and tender and when it finally tore through me , i was drooling a little, eyes damp with tears and fingers numb from gripping him too hard. 

Jungkook fucked me through the orgasm and chased his own each push of his hips leaving me battered and I bit my lips to stay conscious . When he finally stilled, his cock throbbing as he came for the second time, filling my insides with the wet warmth of his cum, I felt myself shake like a leaf caught in a  storm, my entire body ice cold and trembling. A thin layer of sweat coated my body and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t recover from this for a really long time

“My pretty pretty queen....” He whispered , pressing kisses all over my face as he hugged me closer and I mewled at the warmth of him. 

“Don’t leave me .” i whispered, unable to fight the tug of sleep and exhaustion. 

“I’m right here, baby.” His voice was soothing against my ear as he held me closer. 

Maybe I could have him after all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : okay. well. that happened.  if you don’t give me feedback this will be the last smut scene. 

jk

but please do give me feedback . i love hearing from you guys. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist. : @ladyartemesia        @veronawrites   @alpaca1612     @bonyg    @unseejuice21  @sppvjj     @ggukkieland     @tae-by-tae      @blr1004      @yoongichild    @stussyjeon  @jellybearo  @sumzysworld   @carolsummerlove@bunniechoon  @unicornbabylover @preciouschimine    @baekhyunatthehaunted-house @craztextae@nikkiordonez12 

@jiminiscricket​  @yeotan07​

@chimchimmy95bts  @jinscharms​

@danietoww04​

[jincherie]

say so | knj & ksj [m]

! —  COMMISSION  — !

❥ — pairing: namjoon x reader x seokjin ❥ — genre: poly, 1950s au/rockabilly au, smut, childhood f2l, angst, fluff, musician!namjin, burlesque!mc ❥ — words: 24.5k+ ❥ — rating: 18+ ❥ — warnings: light angst, pining, smut !!!; oral (all kinds), anal, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, edging, light switch!joon, light switch!oc, harder dom!jin, double pentration, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl etc.... if I forgot sometihng I will add it later but for now this is it fellas. ❥ — notes: oh my god I am FINALLY ejecting this fic from my brain !!! part of the reason this took so long was, of course, the current circamstances across the world mixed in with a few personal factors, but also because I haven’t written a ‘historical’ fic before and I wanted to make sure I got it right ! of course, that somehow ended with me going way over word count so i am so sorry for that, but i truly hope you like it! I haven’t gone over it yet but i will do that later, i just wanted to post and get this fic out of my asshole

Returning to your hometown for a week is something you’ve managed to avoid for three years, but when you can finally put it off no longer you find upon arrival the very thing you were scared of encountering. When the two famous childhood friends you haven’t spoken to in years have returned at the same time as you, you can’t quite tell whether you’re going to be able to make it out in one piece or emerge with a heart more wounded than before.

Especially since it turns out the feelings you thought you were over never quite went away.

— masterlist |  posted; 17.08.2020

You didn’t really expect to find yourself back here so soon, but here you are— everything in your room is in exactly the same state as it was three years ago.

The covers on your bed, the magazine cuttings, faded posters and hand-painted canvases that mark the phases of your youth hung on your wall—even the light-toned floral wallpaper and the little knickknacks atop your dresser are the same. It makes something like nostalgia rise within you, a reminiscent haze filtering through your thoughts. It has been too long since you’ve been back here, and the guilt that always lingers in the back of your mind now pushes its way to the forefront. You feel bad, not having been back to your childhood home in so long, despite the reasons you had for moving away.

You haven’t been here all that long, but as soon as you finished talking with your parents downstairs your feet had carried you here, more out of habit that anything. Absentmindedly, you brush your hand over the oak of your dresser, curious when your fingertip comes back without a single speck of dust. Your mother must have come through often to clean. The realisation both warms your heart and compounds the guilt you feel, making you frown.  In an effort to distract yourself, you turn your gaze back to the rest of your old room, catching sight of a few photographs plastered above your study desk. You know what they contain, and still you can’t seem to help yourself as you draw closer and peer at them anew. They’re just as familiar to your eyes as you expected.

Of course, in this house you’d be lucky to find a photograph of you that didn’t also have these two in it. 

Your eyes skip over the older ones with yellowing glaze and curled corners to focus on the most recent-looking image, drinking in the two boys you’d spent the entirety of your childhood and teen years with. Easily your best friends, until… well, until three  years ago. A fond smile fights its way to your lips; you remember when this was taken. Your mother had lined the three of you up for a photo in the yard but at the very last second they’d pushed you into the pool. Both boys stand tall in the image, but you’d recognise the taller one with the goofy grin anywhere, even if his face wasn’t already plastered across newspapers and featuring on the television every other evening. Namjoon is just as boyish in the image as you recall, and next to him where they stand laughing over the pool is Seokjin, appearance every bit as neat and clean as you’ve glimpsed in recent years when he has featured in a magazine or program that is particularly popular with the youth. It was always a bit weird to you, a little hard to process, that the two boys you’ve known since the three of you were in diapers are now pretty much, well… celebrities. Something bubbles in your chest, the pressure of a sigh but the weight of something you’re not quite ready to name yet. Distantly, in the back of your mind, a tiny part of you whispers that it tastes a little like regret, and sounds a little like yearning.

Growing up, the two of them had discovered an affinity for music, and you for the arts. You suppose that small difference is what eventually led to the distance that grew between you, before you left— if not for the fact that they found the limelight so naturally and built popularity quicker than anticipated after their individual musical debuts. It really didn’t take them all that long to begin steadily growing their fanbase within the youth of your town, their songs played more and more often on local stations. Before long people even a few cities over caught wind of them, but you didn’t get to see it. By the point they had spread their wings that far, you were already gone.

You wrinkle your nose, not liking this sudden trip down a particular lane in your memory that you’ve been avidly avoiding the past three years. Taking a step back from the desk that the photographs hang above, you desperately search for something else to capture your attention. Fortunately for you, a voice sounds behind you before you can flounder too long.

“Wow, I can’t believe you actually came. How long has it been, forty years?”

You jump slightly, the familiarity of the voice and sheer amount of attitude in the words allowing you to recognise it instantly. You spin, eyes quickly locking onto the familiar head of straight blonde hair and cherubic features that belong to your sister. You’ve kept in touch with her via letter and the occasional call, but other than that this is the first time you’ve seen her in years. She’s a little bit taller than you remember, and she’s filled out a little more now that she’s no longer a gangly teen. You are surprised though to note the absence of the usual distressed denim that she favoured throughout the years. Instead she’s in a neat pair of capris that rise to the dip of her waist, where she has tucked in a bright red blouse beneath a belt. Out of habit, you look down to her feet and catch a glimpse of red canvas shoes that instantly make you want to laugh; your mother never could get her into a pair of heels, even if she managed to get her out of the dungarees that she used to love so much.  Lisa smiles cheekily beneath your scrutiny, opening her arms wide. With a laugh, you throw your own around her, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“You’re so dramatic,” you retort, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it. “Of course I would come to celebrate my own sister’s engagement. I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it.”

“Why does everyone say the same thing when I talk about it?” Lisa groans, pulling back with a familiar pout that seems to have survived her transition into young adulthood. She slips her arm through your own,  giving your bicep a smack as she leads you from the room. “It’s not that hard to believe that I’m getting married! Also— what on earth have you been up to all these years? Have you been attending classes? You’re in such good shape, oh my goodness—”

Unwittingly, your cheeks flush; you probably shouldn’t tell her the real reason for your current physique lest she blab with champagne-loosened lips about it to the rest of your family at her party. Sober Lisa is the only one that knows how to keep a secret, as you’ve found out through a number of shamefully scrawled confessions in the letters she would send you. A number of things you’d confided in her over the years have since been aired like dirty laundry to some of her friends, much to your mutual regret.

“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” you say dismissively, quickly returning to the previous topic as the two of you descend the stairs. “And it’s probably because of all those things you said when you were younger, like how you’d rather live in a mud hut on a deserted island than ever marry a smelly boy riddled with cooties—”

“Ah, yes,” Lisa sighs, the sound more fond and less ashamed than you were expecting. “Those were the days— I was such a badass little ankle-biter. What has become of me? I must be the one riddled with cooties at this point.”

“Probably,” you muse, catching sight of your mother behind the kitchen counter and shooting her a smile as you move past. Lisa is lucky she hadn’t spoken too loudly or else she’d be getting a light smack for her language. It never seemed to stop her when she was younger though, so you doubt it would have an effect now either.

“A skirt at the knee, y/n?” Your mother lets out a dramatic, scandalous gasp upon seeing you. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“These are the clothes that you greeted me in?” You give her a pained look; apparently you need readjusting to her oddball sense of humour. She’s always been a little out of place in the straight-laced, conservative society that marks this day and age; your father too, except he was just a bit more sneaky about it. Actually, now that you think about it, Namjoon and Seokjin’s parents were always a little more on the liberal side too… What an odd coincidence that the three families ended up in a row at the end of the same cul-de-sac.

You’re not deigned with a response, your mother smacking her hands onto the apron she has tied over her baby blue skirt and turning to the oven. You think you hear her muttering about ‘time’ and ‘darn apple pies always taking too long to cook’ and can’t help the way your mouth waters in response. Gods, is it bad if one of the things you missed the most while away is the apple pies your mother makes?

You turn to Lisa, about to ask her whether the apple pie is something you’re going to be able to steal a piece of, only to find that she’s disappeared into thin air. Fantastic. You’re not staying here while you’re back in town, so you’re unsure whether you’re going to be able to cash in on dinner or whether your mother will hold it over your head a little first. You wander over to the  edge of the kitchen, sticking your head into the living room to peer around; you’re curious as to just how much has changed in the time that you’ve been gone. Not as much as you might have hoped, to your chagrin.

“You still have that ugly old thing,” you observe, unable to help the way that your nose wrinkles in response to the sight of the monstrosity still wearing holes into the carpet of the living room.

“My love,” you mother says, giving you an (affectionate) sharp smack on the shoulder as she slips past you, shooting you a bright grin when the thickness of her skirt knocks you slightly. Apparently she’s finished in the kitchen for now; you glance back to see a bowl of nuts joining the bowl of fruit that had been on the counter earlier. “I’d sooner perish than give up your grandmother’s armchair. Besides…. I do so adore how it never fails to draw your ire.”

“I do hate that thing,” your father utters suddenly from the kitchen behind you, his hand reaching for the bowl of fruit; he has his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, so you figure he must have retired to his study to read after greeting you earlier. He moves just as fast as you remember— your mother didn’t even have a chance to stop him before he was gone as quick as he came, hands full of whatever fruit he couldn’t fit in his mouth. 

“You—!” 

The sound of your father’s laughter tumbles off the walls, and you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You did miss this; the liveliness, the feeling of home. 

“y/n, dear, darling, light of my life…”

You turn to your mother, already knowing what is coming next from her tone. One thing you definitely didn’t miss—

“I forgot when I went past earlier, but could you go and fetch some cream from Barb’s? You know, that little store on the corner, down the road from the diner you always used to—”

You’re already turning towards the front of the house, heading for where you’d left your purse with a fond roll of your eyes. “I know where Barb’s is, Ma! I only went away to study, I didn’t lose my memories!”

Your mother’s cheeky laugh is what bids you farewell as you duck out the door and start on your way.

X – x – x

You’d forgotten just how tempting the treats in Barb’s are.

When you exit the small corner store around an hour or so later (it was hardly any distance to walk, but of course Mrs. Park was keen to hold you hostage long enough to squeeze every single detail out of you she could about your time away) it’s with an overflowing paper bag in your arms that holds more than just the cream your mother sent your for. One look at the apple Danish pastries and cinnamon-sprinkled goodies behind the glass of her counter and you’d been unable to help yourself. Your mother did always say that your sweet tooth would be your undoing. 

Walking through the streets that you grew up becoming so familiar with breeds a certain kind of yearning that swells in your chest and borders on painful. This, you suspect, is because most— if not all— of your memories of this place are intrinsically linked with those of the two men who used to take up such a big part of your life; and that therefore then left such a big hole when they were gone. 

It’s hard not to fall into them, the memories. The candy store where the three of you would scrounge up as many coins as you could and pile them all together to get the best sweets on the shelves; the library where you spent as much time goofing off and getting scolded as you did studying in your senior years; even the drive-in cinema, where you used to take your parents cars for the evening and sit on the hood while poking fun at the latest flick to grace the screen. Being back here is making you face something that you have somehow skilfully managed to avoid up until now—

You miss them, Seokjin and Namjoon. You miss your best friends.

This is something that is hammered home further when you reach the point in your journey home where you pass the place featured most in your memories. Dana’s Dinery, probably the only thing more constant in your life than those two boys and your own family. The pink and red hues of its name and the exposed bulbs decorating the signage are something you remember clear as day, and just the sight of it alone has your mouth watering for the burgers and other fried goods they loved to serve there. The kind of food you know is terrible for you, but that you also just can’t get enough of nonetheless. You’ve spent so many nights there that at some point every single member of staff there knew you by name. Of course, since the three of you were barely seen apart at that time, they knew Seokjin and Namjoon, too. 

You’re tempted to duck in and say hello, and before you can even give it much thought your feet are already angling you in that direction, short heels scuffing against the pavement. Through the window you can see the familiar shiny red booth seats and the similarly upholstered stools that line the counter; behind it is a woman with wild, dark curls thrown back in a bun, a pencil behind her ear. Ah, so Mrs. Cara still works there. A petal of affection unfurls in your chest at the sight of her, but drops to the ground in the next second as your gaze slides to the side and halts on two figures currently seated at the counter.

No way. No way.

You freeze, eyes wide as you stand rooted to the spot for just a moment. You know that logically, they can’t be here, but the profiles you can just barely glimpse from this distance are so eerily familiar to that of Namjoon and Seokjin that you think your heart skips perhaps one too many beats. For some reason, your stomach roils with the urge to flee; you just got around to admitting that you miss them, and yet the second you think you might be seeing them, you want to run away? Honestly, it doesn’t make sense—wouldn’t make sense to anyone else privy to the thoughts currently whipping through your mind. 

But you’re a master at stewing in your own thoughts and feelings, familiar with dissecting them until you understand them to the best of your ability at the time. So you know why you promptly turn on your heel and begin hastily back on your way home, abandoning any plans to go inside the diner. You know why, but you’re not quite ready to dwell on it yet, so you push it to the backburner and do your very best not to think about it the whole walk back.

X – x – x

You’re ashamed.

A huff escapes you, your eyes boring into the ceiling, unfocused. After delivering the cream to your mother (and promptly having the extra sweets confiscated until after dinner, lest you snack away your appetite—you guess that answers your question about whether you’re staying for supper) you decided to retire up here for now. You’d thought that your room might feel a little alien to you after all this time away, but when you’d dragged yourself in and shucked your shoes off at the door, it had welcomed you back with an air of nostalgia and open arms. You’re sprawled across your bed now, arms behind your head as you stare at the ceiling. When you were younger, maybe fourteen, you had decorated it with little stars and planets that you’d painted. Well, it wasn’t just you—some of the more crudely decorated renditions towards the wall are courtesy of Seokjin and Namjoon. You wouldn’t say they’re bad at art, just that they have… well, a distinct style that is very them.

Wait, you’re getting distracted—back to the matter at hand: you’re ashamed. 

At this point in your life, if someone had asked you why that particular emotion might be plaguing you right now, then in all honesty you would have a vast array of reasons to give them. But the answer as to why you’re ashamed right now, lies in the two people you could have sworn you glimpsed earlier. 

Now that there is a little temporal distance between you and that particular moment, you can use logic to assure yourself that there’s no way you actually just saw Namjoon and Seokjin at the diner that you all used to haunt in your youth. But in the moment, when you thought you’d seen them, you fell into a bit of a panic. This, you have determined, is because you are ashamed. It’s a little harder to determine why you’re ashamed in relation to them, but what you’ve managed to discern so far is that you feel to blame for the way things went, at least partially. Or, perhaps its that you fear they blame you for the way things went. In reality, from what you remember, they first began to grow apart from each other, and then they began to grow apart from you. That, of course, isn’t something you can blame yourself for. But, what you can blame yourself for – and here is what you think may be the root of your shame – is that you were the one to up and leave suddenly. You were the one to disappear without even a goodbye, almost. You could have kept in touch if you tried, but you’d basically disappeared off the face of the earth.

You wonder if they blame you, or if they might even resent you because of that.

Well, if they even remember you, that is. They’re pretty much in the big leagues now, you remind yourself. They’re making it mainstream and they’re hot on the heels of the most renowned names in the business. 

You’re not very good at comforting yourself. Not that you really attempted it this time, but usually whenever you do you just end up stewing in your thoughts a little. You don’t even realise you’re glaring at the ceiling in the midst of sorting through your mental mess until a knock at the door jerks you out of it. You turn towards it just as it opens and a head pops inside, a gleam you instantly decide you don’t like shining in Lisa’s eyes.

“Come downstairs,” she says cryptically, beginning to ease back out. She only chimes once more when she’s out of view. “If you don’t, I’ll eat all those pastries you brought back! Keep that in mind!”

What on earth… you’re left absolutely confused for a moment, before her last words sink in and you throw yourself from your bed with haste, not even bothering to put your shoes back on before you dart out of the room. The trip downstairs is treacherous in stockings, but you don’t have time to lose. You’re sister isn’t one to bluff, and you don’t want her anywhere near those pastries!

“Don’t you touch those!” you call in warning as you slide across the hardwood floor in the hall and fly down the stairs. “Lisa, I mean it! If you lay a single finger on those pastries you’ll lose it!”

There’s laughter in the direction of the kitchen, and you’re angled to follow the sound when your eyes catch sight of movement to the side and you freeze on the spot. 

“y/n!” your mother cries, clearly ecstatic that you’ve come down to join her. She’s standing in the hall that leads the front door, talking to some people you can’t yet see. “Look who’s here! My, I haven’t seen these two in almost as long as I hadn’t seen you!”

Something like dread, mixed with an odd spike of anticipation, begins to trickle into your abdomen. All too suddenly you remember exactly who you thought you saw earlier, and realise she can only be talking about two people in particular. 

Nervously, you smooth down your skirt and blouse, shooting your mother a look that you hope isn’t too panicked. She is, of course, oblivious, and simply grabs you by the arm to drag you around the corner. 

“I haven’t seen the three of you together in so long! I missed your handsome faces around here, too. Perhaps the height as well— now there’s no one in the house that can reach the top shelf in the pantry.”

Your mother is babbling, but you can’t bring yourself to mind when it saves you from having to speak yourself. As you’d feared, there are two very familiar people standing before you, hovering on your doorstep with almost nervous energy.

“It has been a while,” a soft tone with the luxurious depth of velvet— Seokjin smiles so charmingly at your mother that you think your heart really might have stopped for a second. When his dark eyes turn to you, there is something swirling in their depths that is in such contrast to the winning smile on his lips that you almost feel your knees shake. “y/n, it’s a lovely surprise to catch you here— we didn’t know you were in town as well.”

“Oh, and what brings you two boys back here?” Your mother asks, all too excited to hear exactly what has been going on in their lives since she saw them last. Thankfully, she saves you from having to answer straight away. “Are you back for long?”

“Just a week,” Namjoon answers, bashful smile juxtaposing the beaten leather of the jacket over his shoulders and the low, rough melody of his voice. Oh dear— “We’re actually here celebrating something with a close friend of ours; we were invited to a… party of sorts, you could say.”

You think you might be safe, that he might not say anything to you just yet, when he turns to you and his eyes flick along your form. He smiles again, this time with his dimples making an appearance. 

“It really has been too long, y/n. I’m glad we managed to run into you.”

You know it’s not a dig at you, but you feel your cheeks flush with shame nonetheless.

“Don’t tell me the three of you haven’t seen each other since she left,” your mother gasps, sending you a look that tells you she is going to be wringing information out of you later.

There’s a slight lull in the conversation that tells you it’s your time to chime in. Before you can, though, Seokjin speaks— still with a smile, despite the slight bite of his words. 

“Ah, yeah,” he says, shaking his head. He leans back slightly, switching his weight to the other leg and crossing his arms over his chest— you try not to look at the way it makes his chest and shoulders strain against the material of his button-up. “We wanted to write, or call, but we didn’t know where she was staying to send it. Made it a little hard to keep in touch.”

Your heart squeezes; that was a dig, that was definitely a dig. And you deserved it, but damn you didn’t realise it would hurt that much. And he hadn’t even said anything direct!

“Oh, well this is perfect then!” Your mother smacks you on the back, a little rougher than necessary, making you cough. “y/n is here for the week, why don’t you all catch up? Lisa’s engagement party is on Saturday so any day other than that should be fine— oh, you two should come, by the way! And invite your mothers too; it’s been too long since we’ve all sat down for tea.”

“That would be wonderful,” Namjoon agrees amicably, nodding his head to your mother. “I’m sure they’d love to take you up on that invite— I did get an earful about how lonely she was when I got home earlier.”

You have to fight a smile at that— Namjoon’s mother does have a penchant for the dramatics. You turn your gaze to the side to find Seokjin’s own already boring holes into you— it takes all your willpower not to jump. When he sees he has your attention, he smiles once more.

“We’d love to catch up,” he says, eyes still holding you captive. “How about dinner tomorrow, at Dana’s? I miss the burgers there.”

You catch Namjoon nodding from the corner of your eye, agreeing with the idea, and swallow your nerves down to flash a smile back. “Of course, that sounds fantastic.”

The two men nod, satisfied for now, and Namjoon pipes up once more as they take a step back.

“Well, we should probably get back— if we’re late for supper today we mightn’t be alive for dinner tomorrow,” he jokes, earning a laugh from your mother. His eyes flick to you, unreadable but holding such heat you almost gasp, “We’ll meet you there at seven tomorrow, y/n. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

“See you, boys!” Your mother waves farewell, jabbing you with her elbow until you join her. “Hurry home!”

They nod with a laugh, and you watch them retreat to their respective homes on either side of yours until your mother closes the door and cuts off your view, turning to you with a look that could mean a number of things. She’s distracted from unleashing a verbal flood on you in the next moment, however, when she catches sight of your feet.

“y/n!” she gasps, tone scolding. “Go put your shoes on! Walking around without them— this isn’t how I raised you, my goodness. You’re going to wear holes in your stockings! Go go go!”

Startled by the way she raises her arm in promise, you yelp and scamper away, back towards the stairs. “Okay, I’m going!”

You’re about halfway up the stairs, petticoat and skirt swishing violently from how fast you scaled them, when she calls after you.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook, missy! You and I are having a long, in-depth chat after dinner!”

You can only resign yourself to your fate.

x - x - x

“I’m in trouble, Mina. Oh, I’m in trouble.”

“It can’t be anything more than the trouble you’re going to be in for wearing holes into the hotel room carpet— stop that! You’re making me anxious!”

You halt mid-pace, sending your friend a pained look. She’s sprawled across the second bed in your hotel room, reading some magazine that touts the latest in makeup and jewellery from some of the more big-name brands.

“Please, just this once, let me be the one having a Diva moment,” you say, almost begging— to your own distaste. You just need someone to vent to, but she’s not exactly being helpful.

“What is this about?” she asks, closing her magazine to pin you with a borderline-grumpy look. “What has your knickers in such a— oh, I love those shorts! Are those new?”

“Uh, yeah. I bought them the other week,” you answer, looking down at the light blue shorts you’d slipped into for comfort’s sake this morning. They’re so comfortable, in fact, that you regret that you’re unable to wear them in public. You quickly shake your head when you realise you’re getting off-topic. “Hey— I told you what this is about! Did you listen to a single thing I said since I got back last night? Do I mean nothing to you?”

“You’re so dramatic,” Mina utters under her breath. “Yes, I was listening! I was just checking we were talking about the same thing!"

The look you give her is dubious at best, "Okay, then what am I talking about?"

"Those two hot cats you grew up with," Mina says, waving her manicured hand dismissively. "What about them is giving you such grief?"

"I ran into them yesterday," you say, eyes unfocused as you fall back into your thoughts once more. "They want to meet for dinner, to catch up."

"Oh, well that's fine," Mina says. "You don't have feelings for them anymore, so it should be alright, yeah?"

You bite your lip, wincing and giving her a look that could only be described as a mixture between sheepish and remorseful.

"Oh, y/n," She sounds a lot like your mother with the tone she's taken now, "Don't tell me..."

"I thought I was over it!" you say, wailing almost, as you throw your arms into the air. "They were already so distant before I left, you know? And it's been so long that I thought the feelings went away."

You huff, one hand on your hip and the other splayed over your face. "But then I saw them yesterday, and I think I nearly had a heart failure. I don't think... that those feelings went away."

When you manage to glimpse her way, Mina is wincing, teeth visible. She reaches up to scratch her hairline, almost dislodging one of the curlers she has wound in her hair. "Well, it's just one dinner... When is it? I'm sure you have plenty of time to get rid of those feelings before you--"

"It's tonight," you say with a certain level of resignation, walking over to your own bed and finally throwing yourself onto it in defeat.

"Tonight?!" Mina positively squawks, scrambling into a sitting position in her disbelief. "Uh, y/n, I do hope you haven't forgotten, but we have a show almost every night Saturday--"

"I know," you bemoan, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the odd marks there-- you don't have the brain space to wonder how they even got up there in the first place. "The dinner will be finished in time, I'm not worried about that. I'm just... worried about what will happen during, you know? It's kind of stupid but... what if they hate me now? I didn't even tell them when I left, didn't give them an address to write me or a number to call..."

"Yeah, that was kind of a rude move," Mina says bluntly, "But I don't think they would invite you to dinner to catch up if they hated you, y'know? They were your best friends, they probably missed the hell out of you."

You ponder her words, unable to pick them apart with logic. "Maybe," you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your blouse."... I did miss them."

"See?" Mina says knowingly, giving you a look before falling back on the bed and reaching for the chunky romance novel that she has perched on the headboard above the bed.. "And who knows— you're a hot catch, they might end up returning those feelings and you might come out of this a lucky woman! Well, probably a bit sore in certain places, but lucky nonetheless—”

"MINA!"

The pillow you threw smacks her square in the face, but does nothing to muffle the cackle she lets out after. God, she's not the first choice to come to for advice, but to her credit you do feel a bit better now.

x- x - x

Seven o’clock that evening finds you hovering nervously outside the doors to Dana's Dinery, hand outstretched to take the handle but unable to follow through completely with the movement. For the moment, you're stuck in your thoughts, and your thoughts are stuck on the same thing that had plagued them earlier in the day.

What's going to happen when you walk in there? When you're seated at the table with them and in the process of catching up? You shouldn't be as fearful of it as you are, but you can't help it. The evolution your feelings for them undertook a few years ago aside, they were still very much your best friends. Their opinion of you... well it sucks, but it still matters to you.

Didn’t stop you from doing what you did though, did it?

Huffing and deciding to ignore the nasty little voice that is attempting to make an already stressful night even worse, you force your limbs into action and simply resign to bite the bullet. If they are upset with you, then being late to dinner certainly won’t help things. 

“y/n! Over here!”

With how quickly they spot you, mere seconds after passing through the doorway, a part of you wonders if they saw you hovering outside like a coward. Shame flushes across your neck and ears at the thought, but you do your best to remain at least outwardly unaffected.

Over in the booth at the very end of the diner, nestled against the window and the wall, the two men who have been haunting your thoughts for more than a day sit. You recognise the booth— it’s your Corner, you always sat there with them, to the point where if the staff saw anyone else sit there when they knew you were coming, they’d politely usher them to a new seat. It makes something shift inside you to see them there again. You don’t feel like you’re in school again, but something else feels akin to that time…

It’s probably the butterflies.

Namjoon is grinning at you widely, waving his arm; he’s ditched the leather from yesterday and is now donning a fitted black button-up that brings a nice contrast against the sun-kissed hue of his skin, though his hair is still swept into its style somewhat half-heartedly. Seokjin next to him is in a tan knit turtleneck sweater, glasses perched on his nose and hair attended to much more neatly than the man next to him. Both men are looking at you as you approach, but their stares (especially Seokjin’s) are a little too intense for you to handle, and you end up looking away as you take a seat across from them. 

The booth is less squeaky than you remember, but somehow just as plush. You place your purse and cardigan onto the red leather next to you, clasping your hands together and offering a tentative smile. The soft rock tumbling from speakers around the diner isn’t going to fill the lull in conversation for very long. “Hey, sorry to have kept you waiting…”

Seokjin raises a brow, and you know in that moment that they did indeed see you hovering outside the diner. You don’t have time to process the embarrassment that follows that realisation, though, before Namjoon begins speaking with a warm smile. 

“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” he informs you, eyes glimmering like he’s just happy to have you here. It makes something painful throb in your chest. “And loosen up, would you? You’re sitting like you’re at a job interview.”

To your embarrassment, a brief internal examination of your posture tells you that he is right. Sheepishly, you allow the tension to drain from your body, leaning forward onto the table slightly. “Sorry,” you mumble, offering a smile. “Guess I’m just a bit wound up from being home. I forgot how chaotic it is here…”

To your surprise, Seokijn snorts; your fears that he was truly upset with you are dispelled somewhat as a lopsided grin tugs his plush lips, eyes meeting yours levelly.  “Tell me about it. My mother had my aunt and the cousins over when I got home. I haven’t felt as exhausted as I did after that night in, well, years.”

You don’t notice the smile Namjoon shoots to the man beside him when he first speaks, but you do notice when he lets out a laugh and beams so brightly that his eyes almost close and something you completely forgot about makes an appearance. His dimples have always been a weak spot of yours, and you’re slightly horrified to find that glimpsing them now has led to a skipped beat in your chest and a flutter in your stomach. 

It’s not looking very good for the state of your old feelings right now…

“You never unwind properly,” Namjoon says, somewhat chastising despite his playful tone. He doesn’t pursue it further, though. Instead, he turns to you with a soft smile. “So, y/n, how was college? If you have replaced us as best friends, I will never forgive you.”

You can’t help the laugh that tumbles from your throat at both his words and his face, Seokjin chuckling to himself in the corner. Still smiling, you tell him that no, you haven’t replaced them, and sort through the events of your first year for something they’d like to hear. 

Just like that, and definitely much easier and less stilted than you feared it would be, the three of you seem to sink back into something like the old dynamic you used to share, conversation beginning to flow and laughter beginning to tumble. There are some small differences, of course. Namjoon, who used to be much more clumsy and prone to blushing in his fluster, now seems to have come into his own and his presence commands your attention whenever he speaks or gestures, each movement sure and with confidence. While Seokjin used to be the more blatant joker between the three of you, now he seems to sit back a bit, observing conversation contentedly until he sees the perfect opportunity to chime in and elicit a few laughs. 

And then, there’s you.

Well, you suppose you haven’t changed all that much. When Ms. Cara comes around to take your order (amongst gushing about how grown up and handsome and beautiful the three of you look), you still order the same thing from the menu, go about eating it the same way (fries before burger, being sure to leave some so you can slip them under the bun), and feel the same butterflies running amok in your stomach as you did years ago. You know that you’ve changed a lot, an almost scary amount, but sitting here in this diner with the two men who used to be your best friends, you’re only realising just how much of you is the same.  

“I still don’t know how you can eat that,” Namjoon says, pausing in scarfing his own dessert down to judge you for yours. “You always used to get it— aren’t you sick of it?”

“Hey!” Seokjin intercepts, pointing his spoon at Namjoon. “The Fun Sized Sundae with the Triple Sauce Special is a respectable choice of dessert, and I won’t have you shaming it when you’re just sitting there with pudding and custard!”

You chuckle at Seokjin’s avid defence of your choice— the two of you were the only ones with a big enough sweet tooth to be able to combat the sugary monster that is your choice of dessert. He hadn’t braved it tonight, though, opting instead for apple pie.

“I actually haven’t had it since I was last here,” you say, without even thinking. Another spoonful is already on its way to your mouth as you continue, “It’s one of the things I missed most after I—”

You cut yourself off, realising your blunder too late. The looks in their eyes tell you they know what you were about to say. After I left. Ah, how could you forget? You’ve been here over an hour and this is the first time it’s crossed your mind since you entered. You left— you. Not them, but you.

Your appetite suddenly begins to fade, and you place your spoon down as gently as you can. It still tinks against the bowl, but does little to break the tension beginning to seep into the air.

You clear your throat, growing a little antsy in your seat. Even as you ask, you’re unable to meet their eyes, “Ah, what time is it? We— I got a little carried away…”

The question had mostly been to dispel some of the awkwardness, but Namjoon’s response had you shooting up ramrod straight. “It’s five-to-nine.”

“Oh, shoot,” you don’t even think about the words escaping your mouth, just that way more time had passed than you thought and if you stay any longer then you’re going to be bordering dangerously close on being late for your other very important commitment tonight. “I— I have to go. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise how late it was.”

You hurry to gather your cardigan and purse, starting to shimmy out of the booth, when Seokjin speaks up, “Is everything alright? Where are you off to in such a rush? If you need, we can walk you—”

“No!” you burst, regret swallowing you moments later when you see how taken aback the two men are at your sudden rise in tone. “No, sorry, it’s okay. I just, um… I just have to pick up something, for Lisa’s party.”

“At nine o’clock at night?” Jin verifies, brows drawing down.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, voice small as you manage to finally get out of the booth and stand somewhat sheepishly at the end. “I’m so sorry, it was so lovely meeting you two again and catching up. I’ll, um… I’ll see you, at Lisa’s party.”

You barely allow them enough time to bid their own farewells before you’re turning on your heel and hightailing it out of there before one of them comes to their senses and offers to walk you again. 

You definitely do not need one of your old best friends walking you to the entrance of a club.

A fifteen minute cab ride is what you choose instead, and it isn’t long before you’re slipping into the building from the back entrance and dashing through the halls.

“FINALLY,” Mina erupts dramatically when she catches sight of you bursting into the dressing room, brows raising so high they almost meet her bangs. “I almost thought you were going to stand us up, Miss Luna.” 

Your eyes sweep over her form, alarm filling you at the fact she’s already mostly dressed, from her netted stockings to the many fluffy and feathery layers that she’ll be discarding on the stage tonight. She’s currently sitting at the dresser, putting the final touches on her makeup with small detail brushes.

“That lip colour is too orange,” you inform her, hastily rushing over to the chest that you know contains your outfit for tonight. Mina halts in her motions, staring at herself in the mirror for a long moment before she tilts her head back and lets out a loud, torturous groan.

“I knew it! Momo, you lied to me! I asked you if this colour was too orange or warm and you said—”

You shake your head, slinging the clothes you retrieved over your arm and making your way over to the screen in the corner to get changed. You feel a little bad for the girl currently on the receiving end of Mina’s whines, but on the other hand you’re now free to rush about and catch up to the rest of your co-performers. 

Within the next ten minutes you’re dressed and ready to go, dropping into a seat next to Mina and reaching to begin powdering your face.

From the tingle of excitement beginning to thrum in the air, you can only assume it won’t be long now before the show begins.

x   x   x   x 

Burlesque. It’s something that you know from experience, something you’d sadly gained before you grew more skilled at hiding your profession from the judging eyes of others, has some quite divided views and opinions. Despite how open-minded and liberal as your parents are, you know even they would struggle to come to terms with the fact that their beloved daughter had moved away for college and somehow come to perform in burlesque theatres on the side. 

You don’t even have a clear explanation as to how or why you’d ended up down this path, just that you had. Contrary to what a majority of the population would likely hope, you aren’t ashamed, and you don’t regret it. This is something you love, and you think part of the reason you had been so drawn to it in the first place was the promise of power nestled within a certain kind of anonymity.

Your act, after all, is a masquerade performed beneath the security of an intricate lace and silk colombina disguise.

When you’d first left, you’d felt… well, there wasn’t any other way to put it but rejected, and abandoned. You might have been the one that left, and it’s something you regret now, but at the time it was Namjoon and Jin who had grown distant from both each other and you. Coupled with their increasing popularity and the way their lives seemed to be picking up speed in the direction they’d always dreamed of, it made you realise that their world was getting a little too big for you, and in the scheme of their lives you no longer held a starring role.

So you’d packed up and moved away, and in the midst of your aimless moping in another city, you’d stumbled upon this… and from the first taste of empowerment it gave you in the wake of all you had been feeling, you quickly decided you weren’t going to be letting it go anytime soon. 

And now here you are; an act with such high regard and admiration that you had been called to perform it in other cities. It was a stroke of fortune that one of the stops was your own hometown, at the same time as your sister’s engagement party no less. You had wondered at the time what the catch had to be, and now, of course, you know.

It’s that in an instance of divinely aligned misfortune, the two people you’d planned to avoid indefinitely happened to be here as well.

It’s been a few days since the night you spent catching up with them, and there is enough distance between then and now for you to have calmed significantly when thinking about it. It had been kind of weird, sneaking away from the diner to come perform that night. Even though years have passed, you’re still so used to telling them everything whenever you see them, that holding something back feels foreign, and oddly enough… you feel a little guilty. The first excuse that comes to your mind in your defence is that  ‘they wouldn’t understand anyway’. You know that is baseless, though. Both of them have become popular and risen to fame not just because of their natural musical talent, but for the topics that their music so brazenly broaches.

The truth is that you know they wouldn’t judge you for anything you do, and you’re not quite sure why you’re so resistant to them knowing. The human mind is a mystery, and yours is no exception.

A slow, smooth saxophone melody brushes your ears, a lower note capturing your attention and bringing you back to the present moment. Amongst the faint tendrils of smoke that reach you from the seating area, an itch rises at your brow and you fight to contain it, not wanting to rub off the thin arch you’d drawn on so carefully earlier. It was always like this; you always got itchy before performing, for reasons unknown to you. One of your friends had theorised that it was due to nerves, or something similar. It drove your manager mad, because you’d ripped your costume pantyhose a few times while scratching your thighs in the past.

Mina’s act precedes yours, usually, and tonight isn’t any different. She’s good, and you can’t help but marvel as you watch her. Her movements are fluid, full of a certain zest and allure that mix into a single heady cocktail that has the crowd enraptured as she allows her skirts to drop ever so slowly with each smooth swing and sashay of her hips. When the ruffled fabric hits the floor there are hoots and whistles from the crowd, and Mina’s beaming face peeks over her shoulder to deliver a wink. The room eats it up.

It’s a special performance, tonight.

Due to confidentiality, none of the performers had been told exactly who was attending tonight, just that they were Very Important People, and they were to be shown the best performance they would ever see in their lives. It was an ambitious set of instructions, but you know that both yourself and the other girls in the show are some of the best in the business, so you aren’t too worried about meeting expectations. You plan to exceed them. 

You always put effort into your appearance, but tonight you admit that you did try the tiniest bit harder than usual. Your hair is pulled back from your face, twisted and pinned into curls at the top of your head; the rest of it you simply allowed to hang to its natural length and shape, though you took care to make sure it was soft and silky enough to gleam beneath the stage lights. At Mina’s insistence, you’d allowed her to pin a few small glittery ornaments amongst the curls, and as you peek out and see just how full the room is, you find yourself thanking her mentally. It’s the little details that really pull together a performance and hammer home the effect it has on the audience, and it looks like a full house tonight that you’re going to wow. Though, none of the faces seem to jump out at you so far— you still don’t know who tonights VIPs are. 

Even though tonight is meant to be a big, important night — as it had been emphasised to you so many times — you still find your thoughts wondering back to a certain two men and the reappearance of the feelings you’d once harboured for them. You’re conflicted, as anyone might expect of someone in your situation, but you can’t say you’re very fond of the feeling. Hence, despite your best efforts, your thoughts just keep coming back to your current predicament. Lisa’s party is tomorrow, and you know from yesterday’s visit to your home that your mother had already extended an enthusiastic invitation to both families on either side of the fence. So you know that there is absolutely no way that those two aren’t going to be there, since even if they hadn’t already expressed their intention of attending, their mother’s would drag them over by the ear.

You’re not sure why you’re still worrying about this. You already met and caught up with them! And it went well… or at least it did, until the topic of your abrupt disappearance from their lives was brought up. 

Perhaps that is why you’re so conflicted still. That is an issue that has yet to be resolved.

When you tune back in to the moment and catch your manager sending you a whithering look, you shake your head and decide to try and ground yourself so that you’re not off with the fairies by the time your cue to perform rolls around. You bring your gaze back to the stage, finding that in the time you spent in your own head, Mina had managed to strip down to just her shelf brassiere and the panties and baby blue garter belt with straps that stretched over her shapely thighs and attached to the top of her stockings.

You get lost in the moment, watching as the spotlight follows her across the stage and illuminates each small gesture she makes that draws the audience further and further under her spell. Her hair is perfectly curled and with each flick of her head and bat of her lashes, the strands slide over her shoulder and bounce against her back. As she reaches for her final garment to discard, it isn’t long before the light fades in tandem with the last note of her song, and the audience gets only the barest glimpse of Mina’s almost bare form before the stage is blanketed in darkness. Cheers and applause break the beat of silence that follows, and then Mina is hurriedly rushing past you, beaming with pride and holding most of her discarded skirts bunched up to her chest. Soon, the applause fades out, the hollers nonexistent, and the stage is cleared.

Now, it’s your turn to wrap the audience around your finger. 

Taking a deep breath and revelling in the light fluttering of your stomach that never seems to fade no matter how many shows you perform, you listen for the first few strumming notes of the song that accompanies your routine. When the low, bass riff of guitar finally brushes the air, you make your way slowly onto the stage and let yourself fall into the familiarity of the show.

It’s kind of ironic, you can’t help but think to yourself. Considering the events of this week, the song you’d chosen to tailor your routine to is kind of funny. For the first few years of their careers, you’d seen Namjoon and Seokjin simply go their separate ways. You thought that would be it, that your friendship had broken up for good, but to your complete and utter surprise, at the beginning of this year there had been a new record to grace the radio and enrapture young fans across the country. An unexpected collaboration between two of the biggest figureheads of the rock and rebellion movement that had started to sweep through the youth. 

When you had first heard the song, you’d done a double-take. It wasn’t anything like the rapid, upbeat rock that came to be synonymous with Seokjin’s name, or the heavier, laidback tune that usually accompanied Namjoon’s records. The beat that lay beneath the lyrics was sultry, deep and dark and made your heart skip a beat and your stomach dip. However when the lyrics registered in your mind, you’d had to fight the urge to cry. They weren’t strictly sad, per se, but to you… they had spoken a little deeper. It felt paranoid to think it, but a part of you had to wonder at how… targeted… the song had seemed to be—

Was it made... for you?

You wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it aloud to anyone or even yourself, but you liked to think so. It helped, when you found yourself missing them and yearning for the way things had been. It soothed the traitorous aching of a heart that didn’t seem to remember that the choice to leave hadn’t been theirs, but rather yours.

In the version that accompanies your performance, there are no vocals. Even so, the beat is easily recognisable and as it begins to play, an excited murmur sweeps through the crowd. Something about it is a little odd, but currently your back is turned to the audience, so you don’t get to investigate the feeling. Instead, you let each note that enters the air and brushes against your skin to soak into your being, closing your eyes for the barest second to centre yourself before you feel the heat of the lights begin to grace your skin, and you start to slowly swing your hips.

It is only instruments that brush your ears now, but you can hear the opening lines of the song so clearly in your head you can’t help but mouth them in time.

We're part of the moonlight, Ain't a fantasy...

Can't breathe in the sunlight, Gotta hide your heart...

Following the rise and fall of the beat, you turn your head over your shoulder to deliver a sly smile and a wink, moving your hips all the while— a round of catcalls and surprised murmurs results. You are the only one of the performers to wear a mask after all, so you’re not surprised by the response. Turning back around, your ease yourself into the familiar motions of your routine and let the song and atmosphere carry you away.

At any other time, you would probably find it funny how second nature stripping yourself of your clothes has become. The silky gown that drapes over your shoulders and ends in faux fur ruffles that trail across the floor is the first to go, revealing the entirety of your stocking-clad legs through a sheer petticoat, and the corset and cushioned bandeau that hides a sheer, cheekily embroidered bralette beneath. The audience eats the reveal right up and at the enthusiastic response, your chest swells with pride. You’re smiling, but with a flick of your wrist you snap open a fan and use it to cover the bottom half of your face, leaving only your eyes to peer out at the crowd from behind the mask. You’d discovered early on that a little bit of mystery keeps them intrigued a little longer.

You don’t pay much mind to the audience as individuals; more often than not, when you perform they become a faceless blur. But as your routine goes on and your body follows each sultry move to the beat, one item of clothing discarded after the other, you find yourself paying a little more attention than you usually would. 

It’s as the top part of your corset meets the floor and your sheer bralette is exposed that your eyes sweep over a certain portion of the room, and you realise very suddenly and abruptly who the guests of honour are tonight.

And you cannot believe the atrocity of your luck.

Two familiar faces return your gaze from the centre-back portion of the room, in one of the deluxe booths. It’s a wonder you can recognise them through the haze of smoke created by cigars and cigarettes, but you think that you’d be hard-pressed not to, at this point. Seokjin and Namjoon sit back comfortably in the booth with two unfamiliar men on either side of them, their eyes lit with a certain kind of intrigue and focused solely on you. For a heartbeat, your chest feels so tight you can’t take in a breath, stomach fluttering. Just barely, you manage to maintain your face and stop yourself from stumbling in your routine. The beginning of panic begins to bubble beneath your lungs, but in a split-second it is stopped in its tracks as something seems to snap inside you and you come to a realisation.

You’re wearing a mask. They don’t know it’s you.

It strikes you again, the way they eyes are trained on your every move, and it knocks you breathless once more, though for a different reason this time. Exhilaration begins to course through you— you feel powerful. When you were with them the other day, the weight of the knowledge of your wrongs and your guilt held you on unequal ground. But now, here in the heady allure and smoky seduction in this room, you have them in the palm of your hands and the dynamic is switched, if only for a moment. 

With barely a moment having lapsed since your initial realisation, you slip right back into the next move in your dance, each shift of a limb accompanied with just that little bit more oomph than before. This is their song, the song you suspect they wrote for you, and since you don’t think you will ever be able to forget it, or them, you will make sure they won’t forget this.

One fluid movement leads to the next, the beat picking up ever so slightly as you bend, legs straight and behind pointed at the crowd, before easing your way back up and unclasping the hooks that keep your corset together. When it falls, you turn and bend once more, this time facing the audience so that they see it when you push your breasts together and wriggle your shoulders, a cheeky wink accompanying the resulting jiggle of your chest. 

More hoots and hollers, as expected of an audience that seems to completely consist of men tonight, and you’re pleased to see that the two guests of the hour aren’t completely unaffected either. Namjoon is leaning forward slightly, gaze intense, and Seokjin’s eyes have narrowed in focus as they follow you across the stage. 

Following each note in the song, you strut across the stage, and when there is a pause before it picks up once more, you drop to your knees and reach forward to the floor, arching your back with your behind to the audience again. Using the strength you’ve built in your thighs over the years, you slide one leg up and turn yourself around, using the momentum to slip into an abridged version of the splits. While in this position you bend backwards, one arm reaching back to unravel the ribbon that keeps your flimsy bralette up. When you feel it come loose, you bring your hands to each piece and make a faux-shocked expression, ever so slowly peeling the sheer fabric down and revelling in the way the room is watching with bated breath. 

Your breasts bounce as you yank the bralette all the way down, the tassels that were hidden beneath and keep the barest remainder of your dignity intact jiggling with the movement. Using the cheers that result as a distraction of sorts, you deftly remove the bralette with one hand and discard it slyly on the floor, bringing yourself out of the splits but moving to another position on your knees, sliding your legs apart. There are a few soft gasps and sharp inhales that echo from the front of the crowd, and you can tell from the way their eyes are focused on the inside of your thighs that they’ve glimpsed the pretty picture inked into your skin there. You don’t leave their gazes to wonder too long though, reaching up to pinch the dangling ornaments of your tassels and using them to lift your breasts. You ignore the low, pleasurable tingle that shoots through you at the sensation of tugging on your nipples, fighting to keep your legs open, and release the tassels from your grip. Your breasts bounce generously once more, cheers sounding across the room at the sight. You deliver a wink, before bringing yourself off of the floor in a fluid movement, hearing the final notes of the song beginning to play and a low, sexy saxophone drawl emerging to intertwine with the rest.

The end of your routine passes in a blur, your mind slipping into a haze as you simply move, barely aware of the way you dance and sashay across the stage. A feathery boa situated strategically to the side becomes incorporated in your final moves, allowing the audience peeks at what they can’t have and drawing them further and further in until the music hits a crescendo and with it, you fall into your final pose.

The last thing you see, as the lights begin to dim and the crowd erupts into applause, is the way Seokjin and Namjoon’s eyes are boring holes into you, transfixed on the place where your hip meets the inside of your thigh and the intricate depiction of a crescent moon and a rose that are inked into the skin there.

 x    x    x

 “...sweetheart? Is there a reason why you haven’t gone outside yet? Everyone is by the pool with those wonderful finger foods your Aunt brought with her!”

You startle at the sound of your mother’s voice, almost dropping the grape that had been en route to your mouth as you stared into nothing, rooted in place in the middle of the kitchen. The day of your sister’s engagement party has come, faster than you were able to prepare for, and now that you’re no longer on the stage staring down your two ex-best friends from behind a mask, you’ve lost a lot of your gall. In fact, it could even be argued that your spine had slipped right out of your body the second you stepped off the stage that night. It’s the early afternoon, and Namjoon and Seokjin have been here for about… perhaps half an hour. You don’t claim to be perfect, but the way you’ve been skulking about and hiding in the kitchen is pathetic even to you. 

It’s just… how do you face them after that? They’ve technically seen you almost completely in the nude! If your grandmother ever caught wind of the fact that a man had seen you without clothes then she’d marry you off immediately— not to mention if she ever found out Seokjin and Namjoon, of all men, had seen you like that, she would have an absolute field day!

It was bordering on disheartening, but at this point, even after all this time, you’re pretty sure most of your family loves those two more than they love you.

“I, um… just wanted some grapes?” you blink, offering a sheepish smile that you hope your mother doesn’t find suspicious. That is quickly shot down when you see her brow raise and her bright cherry lips quirk to the side, eyes flicking to the empty glass by the grapes that reeks of gin. What can you say, you thought downing a glass would help you cope, but you’d been wrong. 

“Uhuh…” Your mother says, folding her arms and leaning her hip against the bench; the fullness of her skirt swishes behind her in an echo of the movement. “Well, now that you’ve eaten half of the vine, maybe go outside? Mrs Kim has been asking where you are, I think she missed you almost as much as we did.”

Your brows furrow, “Wait, which Mrs K—”

“Off you go, sweetheart!” 

You don’t even get to finish whatever you were saying because your mother moves into the kitchen solely to chase you out of it. You drag your feet as she herds you out— or at least, you do before she reaches for the kitchen towel by the oven and starts twisting it.

“I’m going!” you promptly flee after grabbing a handful of grapes to-go, holding up a proverbial white flag. Your mother is a little too good at turning mundane household items into a weapon. Now she’s put the fear of god back in you, you find yourself thinking that it’s no wonder your father has always been so well-behaved compared to the stories some of your friends would tell you about their own parents.

It’s a beautiful day, really. It’s part of the reason you were annoyed at yourself for hiding inside, even if it was only for about half an hour. The sun is out, the sky is clear, and while the sunlight warms your skin there is a cool breeze every so often that keeps you from overheating. Some of your younger cousins are in the pool, and have probably been there since around ten minutes after they arrived an hour or so ago. You’d barely gotten a hug in greeting before they were off, the backyard pool held a little more favourably in their eyes for the moment than their own flesh and blood.

They’re cute, though, so you decide that perhaps just this once you will let them get away with it. You’re going to rain down a storm of kisses on them before they leave, though. No one ignores you for an inanimate object and gets away with it!

As you exit the house and step beneath the sun, the skin of your arms and lower legs warming instantly, you just barely manage to dodge as one of your cousins comes bolting past you, followed barely a second later by his mother, your aunt, who is hotter on his heels than you might have anticipated for a woman her age.

“Jackson! You better get back here with those patties, boy, or you’re gonna regret it!”

You know you shouldn’t laugh, because it will encourage the bad behaviour, but the sight is so funny you just can’t help the way you burst into giggles, shaking your head and turning in the direction of the large gazebo that is rooted by the pool and is currently sheltering most of the guests from the sun. A quick scan also reveals that the lady of the hour, your sister, is over there too. Your eyes narrow when they catch sight of the champagne glass in her hand; hopefully she’s forgotten any and all things you’ve told her in confidence recently, or else they’re about to become public knowledge.

“Ah, y/n, just a moment!” 

You pause in your steps, turning just in time to catch in your arms the plate of small pastries your mother shoves into your hold. 

“Wh—” you don’t get to question her, as she simply flashes you a bright grin and nods her head to the table. “Take these over there, will you? And make sure Jin and Joon get some, I made their favourite!”

And then she is off, shooting back into the house and leaving you on the grass. At the delicious smell that wafts up to your nose, you send a cursory look down at the plate and hum in recognition,ignoring the way your mouth salivates. Ah, these are their favourites. This plate probably won’t last very long when you bring it over there. 

You’re on your way once more, now with the plate of sweets in tow, and the closer to the gazebo you grow you catch the sound of the radio, on one of the channels most popular with the youth and playing one of Lisa’s favourite songs. She’s dancing, dragging her friend Rose with her, giggling like a madwoman as she does so. It brings a smile to your face without you even realising. 

“Oh, y/n! There you are! Where have you been? We thought you might have gotten lost!”

Your attention is drawn to the side of the gazebo closest to the pool, where a few people are lounging in the chairs there, beers and glasses with clear, bubbling contents that you can only assume is gin and tonic on the table and in hand. The older woman who called you over with such a teasing tone is Mrs Kim— well, one of them. Both the Kims are here, and you realise belatedly that of course, their sons are too. It was Seokjin’s mother that noticed you, and as you make your way over you see Namjoon’s mother next to her, and the two men in question in the lounging chairs opposite. They seem to light up at your arrival, and you try not to think about the way their reaction makes your stomach flutter. You aren’t here for them, you’re here for their mothers! 

“Sorry,” you apologise, leaning and placing the plate down on the small table in the middle of the seats. Straightening, you dust your hands against the patterned skirt you have buttoned over your matching swimsuit. “I did get a bit lost, there’s so many kids here right now I thought I might have turned up in the wrong house.”

Both women erupt into laughter at your words, and you take the opportunity to smile at Jin and Namjoon, offering a timid wave. They return it, before following your finger as it points to the plate and they realise you’ve brought them their favourite baked goods.

“Cinnamon scrolls!” Namjoon croons, material of his navy button-up creasing as he hastily leans forward to swipe one off the plate. “And they’re shaped like little fish, like she always used to do! I can’t believe your mother made them today.”

“Of course,” you say, snorting lightly. “She’d do anything for her two favourite sons. She made it because they’re your favourites.”

The two of them beam in pride at that, before proceeding to consume the plate of sweets.

“Ah, and she sent you too, sweet y/n! Our favourite daughter! And even more stunning than I remember, right Soo-ah?”

Seokjin’s mother, Jia, hastily reclaims the conversation and succeeds in making you flush pink at her words. Jisoo, Namjoon’s mother, instantly nods, her short curls bouncing with the action, and shoots you a devious grin. 

“It’s been so long since we saw you last, y/n. You didn’t get a husband while you were away, right? We still want you as our daughter-in-law, you know.”

This time it’s not only you that feels the embarrassment heat your cheeks— to your side, both men choke on the mouthful of scroll they’d been in the process of devouring, Seokjin’s face going bright red as he brings his fist to hit his chest and attempts to dislodge the pastry. Amongst his own struggling, Namjoon reaches to smack his friend on the back, clearing his own throat.

“Ah, no…” you say, awkward and smoothing your skirt to distract yourself; it feels like the eyes of the entire party are on you, despite the fact you know better. “I’ve just been focusing on school…”

“Oh, tell me, dear, do you still do those wonderful paintings? I still have that one you gifted me for my birthday before you left.”

Namjoon follows up on his mother’s question, shooting you a smile that somehow is a combination of both bashful and proud. It makes a dimple pop in his cheek. “She still has it displayed above the dining table, actually. She nearly killed me when I almost knocked it by accident a few days ago.”

Jisoo doesn’t even bat a lash, smiling at you brightly— though a bit drunkenly, if the almost-finished glass in her hand is anything to go by. You’re surprised— you know from all the dinner parties your three families held over the years that despite their petite stature and classy, ladylike countenance,  both Kim women can outdrink their husbands and your father. You wonder just how much they must have had already to have such silly grins on their faces.

“I do!” You answer, feeling your chest warm in affection. It was silly to have ever doubted it, but it made you feel somewhat eased to know that you haven’t lost your place in their lives despite your departure. “But, actually, while away I actually took up sculpting. I’ve been doing that a bit more…”

“Oh, are you talking about your works, sweetheart? Ah Jisoo, Jia— they’re absolutely wonderful! I have photos that she brought, here let me go get them—”

You feel heat flush to the tips of your ears, greeting the arrival of your mother with an embarrassed look. “Alright, let’s not bash ears about it—”

“Oh!” Jia and Jisoo perk up at your mother's exclamation, and you shrink into your seat as you watch her reach into one of the hidden pockets in her skirt and pull out a handful of small photos that you’d printed to show her. Your hubris seems to have come to nip you in the bottom. “I forgot I popped them in my pocket to show you earlier! Here, see— isn’t she just so talented? My baby girl must have been the absolute queen of her department.”

All three parents are oblivious to the way you’re shrinking into your seat in mortification, but Seokjin and Namjoon are anything but. They’re grinning at you, relishing in your discomfort much like they used to. 

“Hey, y/n, could you get us another drink? I’d go get it, but your mother actually told me earlier I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen until she’s finished with the pastries…”

You shoot him a grateful look, shooting to your feet and slipping out of the little seating area. “Yup, doing that! Getting drinks! Be right back, don’t wait up!”

Though you doubt any of the adults heard you, they didn’t wait anyway. In fact, in the time it took you to head into the kitchen and bring back three drinks on a tray, your mother has since downed her glass and has started on another topic of conversation. Thankfully, the victim is no longer you. 

“Oh, Namjoon, where are your peepers?!” Your mother gasps suddenly as you return, pointing at the man beside you. There’s the barest slur accenting her words, and you resign yourself here and now to a night of loose-lipped blabbering from both your sister and your mother. “I’m not goin’ crazy am I? You used to run into things all the time when you were a kid ‘cause you were blind as a bat!”

Namjoon winces, but Seokjin bursts into laughter. Glad for the conversational shift, you take one of the last remaining chairs and settle down, your own drink now in hand. Namjoon reaches for the refill you had brought him, using the opportunity to hide his face, and only when Jin has settled down does he manage to wipe his eyes and claim his own glass.

“I’m tryin’ out something new,” Namjoon answers after a hearty gulp, clearing his throat. He reaches to scratch the back of his neck bashfully. “Lenses, I think they’re called. They’re convenient, especially when I’m performing, but they’re expensive and so dang fragile I’m gonna need to take out insurance on them or somethin’.”

“Isn’t this your last set?” Seokjin queries knowingly, laughing as Namjoon grimaces. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back in the peepers you know and love by the end of the week. If he doesn’t break them, he loses them.”

You half expect Namjoon to be irked but he just sighs with a small smile, apparently having made peace by now with the clumsiness and two left feet that have haunted him since childhood.

Your mother decides to tease Namjoon a little more, before she changes the topic and starts gushing about their career, and how she can hardly go a day or two without hearing one of their songs on the radio. All three women are beaming with pride, and though slightly bashful about it you can see Namjoon and Seokjin’s chests swell slightly. 

Lisa, the star of today’s show, happens to walk by right when your mother is interrogating them about where they’ve chosen to settle down for the meantime, and eagerly joins the conversation.

“Ah, cool cats like you must be absolutely rolling in dough by now! How many mansions do you have already?” Lisa laughs, looking for a free seat and simply sitting on you when she doesn’t find one. She’s quite a bit heavier than you remember, and you feel your breath wheeze out of you at her abrupt drop onto your legs. 

“Unfortunately, none,” Namjoon laughs, gesturing to his mother, “Though, the pressure is on. I think ‘Ma wants a nice place to retire before my career is over.”

Jisoo takes a sip to hide her sheepish grin, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing her skirt afterwards. Seokjin lets out a soft chuckle before he turns to your mother and answers the question she’d asked earlier.

“We have a sweet pad back in the fat city, actually. We both were leanin’ to the same penthouse with the best view but in the end decided to compromise and split it.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” you mother exclaims, eyes alight. The last time she’d looked this excited was when you told her you were staying for the whole week. “It’s so good to hear that the two of you stuck together even though you’re such big news now!”

Guilt. You bring your glass to your mouth and take a large gulp in an effort to drown it, the tart fizz of gin and tonic barely disguising the familiar curl of guilt in your gut.  Perhaps if you ignore it, it will go away. 

“Oh, speaking of— that latest record the two of you released together, it really does razz my berries like nothin’ else!” Lisa gushes, throwing a hand out to wriggle her fingers for emphasis. “It’s real hip and different from all your other tracks. Trust you two to be settin’ trends!”

Starting to get slightly tipsy now from the generous downing of your drink, you can’t help how you chime in with little thought,  “Oh, I really do love that one. It’s perfect to dance to.”

“A dance?” Lisa queries, turning to pin you with a confused look over her shoulder. You realise your slip up in that moment, when you glance to the side and see both men looking at you with unreadable expressions.  “It’s a bit slow for a dance, I think.”

“You can dance to anything,” Namjoon swoops in and unknowingly saves you, shrugging nonchalantly. The expression that was present on his face earlier is gone now, but it takes a split second longer to fade from Seokjin’s features.

Sinking into your chair as much as you can with Lisa’s weight pinning your legs down, you bring the glass to your mouth once more. 

Slip-up aside, you can only hope it won’t be as difficult to get through this party as you thought. 

 x - x - x

The day has progressed nicely and as daylight begin to bleed into night, your father emerged to help man the barbecue and dinner was served —  it was a somewhat rowdy affair, given how much alcohol the party had consumed up until that point. After eating their fill, most of your relatives and small cousins went home — they have a strict bedtime to uphold, after all. You made good on your promise to smother the little ones in kisses as they left, and it was with pink cheeks and bright grins that they bid you farewell. 

It’s getting well into the night at this point, and only a few guests are left. Lisa is inside with a cluster of her friends and her fiance, your mother and the Kims are underneath the gazebo with their husbands— this has left you by the pool with Namjoon and Seokjin. They’d gotten a little bold earlier and when you’d teased them about something, you’d had an unceremonious reunion with the pool. It was startlingly similar to what occured right before your mother took that photo hanging in your room, and made an odd mixture of affection, nostalgia, and something a little bit bittersweet settle in your abdomen. 

Just as it had the other time you’d met with the two, any tension and awkwardness had quickly melted away as the evening progressed. A few drinks in your systems and anything and everything is now water under the bridge. All too easily the three of you had fallen back into the same comfortable, playful air that you’d always known—

That you’d missed so much.

You’re lounging now in one of the rubber duck-shaped floaties your mother bought recently (she’d made you blow it up, gushing all the while about what a bargain she’d gotten on it and the companion swan floatie). Your head is more than pleasantly fuzzy, and you decide as you finish this glass that perhaps you’re done drinking for the night. You kick your legs lazily, feeling the heavy material of your skirt swish in the water as you propel yourself around the pool. Normally, the skirt is meant to come off before you take a dip. However given the nature of your entry into the pool, you hadn’t exactly had an opportunity to discard it. 

“No, no— I remember it cleary— clearly.” Seokjin waves his hand, finger pointing at Namjoon— the man in question is cackling in the deep end, falling off the swan floatie that he was attempting to climb onto. Both men are at the point in the night where they are beginning to slur their words, and to be fair you’re not much different. You’d lost count of how many times either of them have slipped up in their words.  “It wasn’t me who fell and broke y/n’s coffee table. From what I remember, it was your buttocks that hit it.”

“But you pushed me!” Any attempts on Namjoon’s behalf to hide his grin and even pretend to be angry prove to be fruitless. He has the same dumb dimpled grin on his face that you remember from your teen years. “It was uncalled for, assault!”

“You!” Seokjin’s mouth drops open, his legs kicking in the pool in his outrage. Namjoon’s eyes almost disappear as he cackles, throwing his head back. It melds into the sounds of the festivities over by the gazebo, where the radio and Lisa’s own gleeful laughter echo into the night. “y/n can confirm, it was Joon, right?!”

You put your arms behind your head, pretending to lounge back on the floatie despite how tentative your position is on the slippery rubber. “I don’t recall, suddenly I can’t think.”

“Yah!”

Your jubilant laughter means that you don’t see it when Seokjin slips completely into the pool, diving beneath the water to where you’re lounging and coming up beneath you. A scream rips from your throat as you're flipped from the floatie, tumbling backwards and into the water with a hefty splash to boot.

When you come back up, gasping breaths above the surface turning into laughter, it takes a moment for realisation to reach you through the sluggish fog in your brain that your skirt has detached. Still laughing, you catch sight of it and reach for it where it’s floating across the pool, recognising the sound of the two males guffawing behind you. When you slip on the bottom of he pool for a moment and get water up your nose, you decide that perhaps it’s time for you to call it a night soon.

“Woah, bubs, are you okay?”

When you slip again, a strong arm catches around your waist like an iron bar, holding you to the surface. Blinking the water out of your lashes, you turn to see the owner; the breath is startled out of you as your gaze meet the dark depths of Seokjin’s own. His hair is still dripping, an inky wayward mess atop his head, and the t-shirt he’d donned as he first entered the pool so long ago is clinging to each line and plane of his body. 

For a moment, yearning and a feeling all too familiar takes up the space of your lungs, and you find that you can’t breathe. 

“I think… I think it’s time to call it a night,” you manage to say, a new kind of lightheadedness emerging to addle your thoughts. You turn, breaking the hold Seokjin’s gaze has on you to seek out the edge of the pool. You feel his eyes bore holes into you for a moment longer, before two hands come to grip your waist and he moves you through the water to the rim of the pool. 

“Probably for the best,” Seokjin says, grip tightening in a split-second of warning before he heaves you up and onto the brick that lines the poolside. Off-kilter and unexpecting of the movement as you were, you have to balance yourself with your legs, which almost end up smacking Seokjin in the side. Through your inebriation, you don’t realise the way your thighs have parted in the process, the detached skirt in your hand doing little to cover you where it is laying sopping wet on the brick.  

“You’re being almost as clumsy as—” You’re also so busy trying to quell the fluttering in your stomach and find your bearings you also don’t notice the way Seokjin’s eyes move unwittingly down your form, falling to your thigh at eye-level. “...Namjoon.”

You blink, eyes finally focusing but heartbeat still thrumming in your ears.

“I don’t know if I will ever be that clumsy,” you manage to say, as comprehensible as possible. Seokjin’s hands leave your waist as you stumble to your feet, wringing out your skirt before attempting to button the drenched garment back up above your hips. 

“Hey!”

At Namjoon’s outcry, you grin and bring your hand up in a wave. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you drunkenly promise, completely forgetting that in a few days, you’ll be out of this town and out of their lives once more. “Goodnight, you two.”

They return the sentiment, and you grab a towel from one of the poolside chairs, wrapping it around yourself and making your way back in. You miss the way that their eyes follow you as you leave their sight and reenter the warmth and light of your home.

x - x - x - x

The night has drawn to a close, and the two men have long since climbed from the pool and dried off with the fluffy towels your mother so generously laid out for them before she got too tispy. A sharp look from their own mothers reminded them earlier that there are still plates to clear and things to tidy, so despite being guests they do their best amongst the alcohol-induced fog clouding their minds to help clean up the aftermath of Lisa’s engagement party. 

As they do so, the same thing is true for both of them: there is a lot on their minds.

Seokjin had to turn to Namjoon earlier to confirm what he’d seen, and when he saw the man in question already looking at him with wide eyes, he knew he hadn’t just drunkenly imagined it. They both saw it, the glimpse of a strikingly familiar picture peeking from the inside of your thigh. They’d seen that very same tattoo in the very same place just a few nights ago, only last time the owner had remained a masked mystery. Now, they’d glimpsed the same image on the body of their childhood friend, the girl they’d both fallen in love with and subsequently drifted apart over only years ago because they were young and jealous and stupid. But, things are different now; they’re now only two of those things, and after they made up over a year ago their friendship is stronger than ever, in… more ways than one.

But despite how much has changed over the years, there is still one thing that has remained constant; and that is their feelings for you.

Truthfully, after not seeing you for so long, they had started to think perhaps they were finally getting over you. Impossible as it had seemed, considering how smitten they were. A cold realisation washed over them the second they saw you again, though, that those feelings hadn’t disappeared like they had suspected, but simply remained dormant. Seeing you at the diner and finally getting to catch up after being apart so long, missing you so much, had pretty much cemented that. When they’d returned to their hotel room after, they didn’t need to say a word and only shared a look to know they had both come to the same conclusion.

They were both irrevocably, pathetically, undoubtedly still in love with you, even after all these years. 

Then had come the show.

It was the reason they’d returned to this town, technically. An important friend of theirs had invited them both to celebrate the success of their latest record and talk about future opportunities; the location happened to be a club currently hosting a highly regarded burlesque set. They’d felt the second the final masked performer had come on stage that there was something odd, something special about her. She had used their song, on her thigh had been a tattoo that tickled something in the back of their minds, and there was something in the way she moved that had been so jarringly familiar, but neither had been able to pin where they had seen her before.

Until tonight, that is.

It hadn’t been an intentional reveal on your part, but there on your thigh had been the exact same tattoo they’d glimpsed in the club, and they’d known the second they saw it that it wasn’t a common design. At first, on the night, Seokjin thought that it might have struck them because it was drawn similarly to how you always used to doodle moons on all of your schoolbooks, and now it all made sense. 

The only thing left to consider is, what do they do now that they know?

“Oh, my boys— my precious, helpful, lovely boys!”

The two men turn in tandem, easily catching sight of your mother as she stumbles her way over to them. They were in the process of moving some of the plates to the kitchen before they heard her drunken cooing, and Seokjin finds himself thanking the heavens they’d put them down quickly because in the next second your mother is throwing her arms around them and they’re being yanked down to her height from the sheer strength of her grip.

“I missed you two, we all missed you two,” she blubbers, hugging them close like she’s worried they might slip away into the night the second she loosens her hold. A second shy of suffocating them, she finally releases her grip, and they straighten with warm faces. Namjoon knows without even having to check that he’s got a real goofy grin on his mug right now. 

“We missed you too,” Seokjin says, and he means it. Your family and Namjoon’s family are both pretty much his own at this point, and he’d found himself missing every single member while he was away. Each time he returned home, he was sure to visit the other two houses at the end of the cul-de-sac, though the times he’d been able to actually make his way back to his home town were unfortunately few and far between. The same is the case for Namjoon, as he knows, except likely a bit worse since he knows Namjoon has always been a real Mummy’s boy.

“But I doubt it was as much as we missed you!” Your mother argues, and it makes both men smile. The next few words to escape her mouth knock the expression straight off their faces, though.  “y/n especially. Oh, I remember she was so heartbroken when you three started growing apart. I think part of the reason she left was to get away from it. The way she used to talk about you boys…” Her gaze slips to the side, eyes slightly hazy in recollection. “I thought for sure that she was going to end up marrying one of you.”

They don’t even get a good second to unpack that, before the haze leaves your mother’s eyes and she is giggling, leaning forward with a cheeky glint in her eyes that they know for sure they’ve seen in your own. She brings her hand up to shield her mouth as she whispers in a voice that is not at all as quiet as she likely thinks it is, “It’s a bit improper, but I think she used to like both of you.”

Namjoon chokes on his own spit, and Seokjin’s mouth falls slack. “What?”

Your mother merely giggles, leaning back and spinning on her heel. “Thank you so much for your help, boys, but you ought to be on your way! Your mothers are about to head home and neither of them are walking in a very straight line.”

She halts, turning over her shoulder to shoot them a wide grin. “I’m glad you two came. Thank you.”

And then she is gone, and a blanket of silence falls over the kitchen. Seokjin and Namjoon turn their heads, locking gazes. 

Well, at least now they know what to do.

x — x — x

 You swear there is something odd in the air of the club this evening. 

It’s something subtle, and none of the other girls seem to have noticed it; they continue as always, tittering away in the dressing rooms and giggling amongst themselves when one of them makes a joke that probably shouldn’t be repeated outside the room. It’s the last night you will be performing here, and also the last night you will be staying. You were planning on making a quick visit home tomorrow morning to say farewell to your parents and congratulate your sister once more, before being on your way. You hadn’t decided yet whether you were going to go out of your way to track down Seokjin and Namjoon to say goodbye to them as well, but the idea of it… well, it sets your belly alight with nerves. You have no idea what you would say, and you know — you know— in your gut that doing it would revive the elephant in the room that you’ve all been ignoring up until now. 

But if you don’t, then you’ll be doing the exact same thing you did last time, and this time around you don’t know if you’ll get their forgiveness, let alone deserve it. 

By this point in the evening, you’ve already slipped into your costume and powdered your face. Since you wear a mask while on stage, you don’t really need to apply any heavy makeup around your brows and eyes; you usually settle for accentuating them naturally. 

Mina has disappeared since you last saw her, which is odd since she usually lingers to talk your ear off about any handsome faces she might spy in the crowd as the room beyond the stage begins to fill. You’d started to look for her earlier, seeking a distraction from the depressing inner monologue you have running, but hadn’t managed to find her. This means that for the past half hour or so you’ve been left to your own devices, fiddling with different parts of your dress and costume like a child twiddling their thumbs in the principal’s office. Part of that time, you spend trying to ignore the events of last night and any feelings that may have resurfaced as a result of your return to this town. For the rest of it, you attempt to think about what you’re going to do tomorrow when the rapidly-approaching hour comes when you have to leave again. God, where on earth did Mina get off to? You’re going insane here.

Oddly enough, it’s her that finds you a few minutes before the show is set to start. By this point, it’s a wonder you haven’t torn your hair out of it’s meticulous styling.

“Where did you pop off to?” you ask her before she even has a chance to say hello. She raises her brows, laughing at your rapid questioning. 

“Big boss wanted me for something,” she supplies, cocking her hip and resting a hand there. “Actually, I was asked to pass on a message to you.”

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Mina is quick to wave her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad— though it is a bit odd. He just asked me to tell you to meet him in one of the private rooms in the VVIP section. I think it was the very last one…?”

That is odd, considering she’d apparently just come from meeting him. Private shows aren’t something you do, so you can���t think of a reason why the big boss would ask you to meet him there. 

“Huh, ok. So soon before the show…?” you ask, just to be sure. You don’t have your mask on you right now, so you need to calculate how long it’s going to take you to return and get it. Mina shrugs, nodding. 

“I suppose so. Don’t worry,” she smiles, something indecipherable yet oddly devious entering her gaze. “You won’t be there long enough to mess anything up. The show will go on, Miss Luna.”

You could almost swear there is something hidden in her words, but don’t have the time or the thought to dwell on it. Instead you return her smile and turn to be on your way; the VVIP rooms are on the other side of the establishment, and you don’t want to keep the big boss waiting. You’d only met him once, the owner of this club, and he didn’t strike you as anything in particular. The only thing you’d thought to note is that he smoked perhaps a few too many cigars, because his office was almost always filled with curling, coiling smoke that leaked into the hall  each time you moved past. But he was quite mild-mannered and polite as far as men in this business go, so you’re not particularly concerned for your wellbeing as you make your way to meet him.

It takes a little longer than anticipated, since you ran into one of your co-performers and they cornered you for help with their outfit, but finally you’re arriving in the second-floor wing that houses the VVIP rooms. Instantly, it’s evident where you are. The carpet is a little more plush, the wallpaper a little more maintained, and the hall decorated a little nicer than the rest of the place. Spotting the room on the end, you make your way down there and knock on the door thrice before grasping the handle and easing it open.

“Mr. Leigh? What did you want to t—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat before it even has a chance to reach the tip of your tongue, feet freezing mid-step as your eyes fall upon the occupants of the room. For once, you don’t have any sort of instinct that kicks in to save you; you simply stand and stare with wide eyes.

“Took you long enough, bubs.” Seokjin straightens from where he had been leaning back against the plush crimson leather of the circular lounge. “We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

A myriad of thoughts suddenly flood the blank space in your brain, all in contention with each other. Oh no, they’ve seen you— no, you have a mask, they don’t know who you are— no, you don’t have your mask—

Dressed in your performing attire and standing before Seokjin and Namjoon, in one of the VVIP rooms in the club where they attended your show, you aren’t a faceless dancer. You’re y/n, and it feels like they can see every single bit of you there is to see.

You don’t even know where to begin.

“I…” You attempt to say something, anything, but your tongue has suddenly turned to lead in a pact with your stomach, sinking down and refusing to dance for your words.

It takes you a moment to realise as you watch them straighten, but neither of them look surprised. It leads you to believe that somehow they figured it out on their own, though you have no idea how. You don’t really have the presence of mind to ask them right now, either. In fact, it could even be argued that you’re almost panicking.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Namjoon speaks up, offering you a smile that holds neither judgement nor disdain. “We wanted to catch you before you inevitably skipped town without saying goodbye.”

That stung, just as much as the guilt that struck you for the truth of his words. You’d been contemplating it, leaning towards it even, but suddenly you feel you have to defend yourself. 

“I hadn’t decided that yet,” you say quietly. You let the door fall shut behind you, silently acquiescing to the unspoken demand weighing heavy in the air.

“Don’t lie.”

Your eyes shoot even wider, if possible, at the sound of Seokjin of all people snapping at you. His tone was sharp, and you half expect him to look furious, but when your eyes flick to his face it gives nothing away. When he continues in the next second, though, you see it in the depths of his eyes. Hurt.

“We used to tell each other everything, back then.” It could have been a trick of your mind, but you swear you heard his voice break slightly. “I don’t want that to change. So no lies tonight, y/n. We’re going to talk as adults, openly and honestly.”

For reasons beyond you, something about the promise woven through his tone makes you nervous. A tremor fights to shudder its way down your spine; for a moment, you feel akin to a small, cornered forest animal, even though they are the ones sitting against a wall and you are in the open. You don’t know what to say. 

Namjoon steps in, saving you from fumbling for a response as he always seems to do. “You don’t have to stand there, ready to bolt, you know. You can come sit down.”

You shake your head, suddenly recalling your commitments outside this room and feeling relief flood you at the realisation that you have an excuse to remove yourself from this situation you’d tried so hard to avoid. “I can’t. I have to go p—”

“We already talked it over with your boss, he was happy to take you out of the performance tonight. It’s okay, the others know too.”

You deflate, looking at Namjoon with a sinking feeling in your stomach. He doesn’t hold your attention all that long, though, before the sound of Seokjin’s voice brings your gaze to him once more.

“Why did you leave? Without even saying goodbye, or telling us where you went?” You feel rooted to the spot, pinned first by the weight of Seokjin’s gaze and then his words as they slam into you, unfiltered. 

“Hyung.” You think you hear Namjoon murmur softly, giving the man next to him a pointed look. Seokjin is unphased, looking at you expectantly, “Be honest.”

It’s just as panic begins to seep into the bottom of your lungs that anger sparks and sets it alight, transmuting it to something red and hot in your chest. 

“You want me to be honest?” you ask, heat beginning to colour your voice and sharpen the tip of your tongue. “I left because of you— both of you. I don’t know if something happened between you or if I just wasn’t enough, or you felt I was holding you back, but you drew away and you left me. You both left me before I ever left you.”

You see it the second your words enter the air like a whip, the hurt and guilt slipping across their features. Anger bubbles in your throat, stings your eyes, and urges you to let loose everything else rising to the tip of your tongue, “I left because I couldn’t handle the pain of my two best friends slowly easing themselves from my life, like— like I was old news. Like I no longer had a place in that shiny, brand new world they’d stepped into.”

More rushes to escape, feelings kept bottled up tight for three years suddenly flooding forth with the force of a tidal wave, but you bite it down, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath that rattles through your chest. When you’re sure you have a firmer grasp on your emotions, you allow yourself to speak once more. “If an apology is what you want, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I’m sorry for my part in hurting you. But you… the two of you hurt me, too. You meant the world to me and when you pulled away you made me feel like nothing.”

Your eyes remain closed, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you will yourself not to cry; silence sinks over the room, only broken as your ears adjust to the thin buzz of electricity thrumming through the walls. One moment, another-- you try and focus on breathing in, and breathing out.

“Something did happen between us, you know. We fought over you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto Namjoon. He stands, dusting his legs as he straightens and adjusts his jacket. Slowly, like he’s worried he will spook you, he begins to step closer. “I’m sorry, y/n. We never meant to hurt you, and didn’t realise the way our immaturity was hurting you, too. You took up such a big part of our lives, and after you left it was painfully empty… when we saw you again this week, it was the first time we’d felt whole in years.”

Stunned, you’re rooted to the spot and can only watch as he comes close enough to touch, hands reaching for your own; faintly, you register the sound of Seokjin getting up from the couch as well. When he reaches your side, you risk a glance to his face and are surprised by the soft, remorseful expression resting upon his handsome features. 

“I’m sorry, bubs, for hurting you.” He lifts a hand, the warmth of his palm cupping your cheek. “You are irreplaceable to us, and we will always want you as a part of our lives. No one meant as much to us as you did then, and no one means as much to us as you do now. The two of you are my world, and I know the same goes for Joon.”

There’s something different hiding in the depths of his tone that makes your heart patter faster against the confines of your chest, something in the way they share a look so full of something warm that your own cheeks heat in response. Both of them… with each other, too? 

 “Why are you saying this?” Now, you meant to tack on. Why is he saying this now?

Namjoon’s eyes are warm as they meet your own. “Because we should have said it three years ago. Plus… we got a tip from an anonymous source that our feelings aren’t as unrequited as we once thought.” 

You don’t even need to wonder who it was that could have exposed such a thing; your mother had been mysteriously avoidant of your gaze this morning, almost knocking a few things off the bench in the extent of her effort to evade meeting your eyes.

“If nothing else, please just tell us before you go,” Seokjin implores, voice a low murmur. “Whether it was true then, or....”

You have a feeling you know what he was going to say: or even now. You’d known it the second you glimpsed them back in this town that those feelings you’d harboured for years and years weren’t ever going away. Even seeing them a handful of times has made your heart ache with the revival of your love and the magnitude at which it had bloomed once more in the tender soil of your being. The words rush to the tip of your tongue, but even now when the two objects of your affection have all but confessed to you, fear barrs them from leaving your mouth. Because it’s not appropriate, a voice murmurs it’s familiar tune, It’s so unlikely— what if you are just reading too much into it and are mistaken?

Honesty, Seokjin had requested. You take a deep breath before admitting the words that will seal your fate, for better or for worse.

“I did love you, then,” you say, catching it as they both seem to tense. “I should have known better than to think those feelings would just go away.”

It takes a moment, but soon both men are erupting into bright grins. In his glee, Namjoon folds you into his arms, smacking a soft kiss to your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips— the suddenness of the action brings a gasp to your lips, but you’re definitely not going to complain. Especially not when the way his mouth moves against yours lights something bright deep within you. 

You don’t get to enjoy the sensations for longer than a moment before Seokjin’s voice is parting the air, a completely different tone underlying his words than what you expect from seeing his stupid grin earlier.

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t think you’re off the hook just yet, little miss. “ You meet his gaze over Namjoon’s shoulder and a shudder shoots down your spine at the look in his eyes. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for, wouldn’t you say?” 

x - x 

Barely ten minutes and a private car ride filled with scandalous touches and even more scandalous noises later, you’re being pressed against the wall in the bedroom of the penthouse suite in the most expensive hotel your town has to offer. Namjoon’s mouth is on yours with a kiss so impassioned that it pulls the air from your lungs and the strength from your knees; you don’t even realise that the lights hadn’t already been on when you entered and it was Jin responsible for illuminating your path into the suite.

A part of you expects some internal resistance — it had been three years since you’d last seen them, before this week — but instead you’re simply overwhelmed with how right it feels. Soft, fluttery warmth like sun rays on a winter’s morning fills you up to the brim, the feeling so foreign you’re worried your heart might actually burst. 

Namjoon’s hands come to your hips, pressing them to the wall before sliding up to the dip of your waist. He isn’t overly bold in the way he moves his mouth against yours, but it makes a whine build in your chest nonetheless. A part of you disagrees with it, and when you recall that you’re still here dressed in the costume that usually gives you the power over men, you push back and turn the two of you around. 

When his own back meets the wall, the softest gasp escapes Namjoon’s mouth and you swallow it down, your hands coming to cup his jaw. You take the lead in the kiss and he doesn’t put up a fight, grip tightening on your sides as he holds you closer. 

“Ah-ah, bubs.”

An unwitting squeak escapes you as two large hands find purchase on your waist and you’re pulled apart from the man panting against the wall. You blink and before you know it Seokjin has you falling onto something so plush and soft you know immediately it’s a bed. Your eyes are quick to find Seokjin’s, and the raven-haired male shoots you a stern look that is only contradicted by the heady mixture of affection and lust in his gaze.

“You don’t get to call the shots tonight,” he informs you simply, striding closer to where you’re laying on the bed and tugging on the string that holds your silken gown together. It’s designed to come undone, and so it’s no surprise that at the lightest pull the silk is sliding off your body, revealing the outfit you’d paraded on the stage before them barely a few nights ago. Faintly, you register the bed dipping behind you, but your attention is otherwise occupied when Seokjin reaches for the bedside table and retrieves something long and black. 

“Her wrists?” Namjoon asks, unknowingly answering the question you had forming in your head. Seokjin nods, tossing the tie  to him. Your gown is slipped from your shoulders completely, sheer petticoat ruffling as you’re scooted backwards until you feel the firmness of Namjoon’s chest against your back and Seokjin is sliding between your legs, in the midst of unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Do you know what you did to us when we saw you that night?” Seokjin asks, voice smooth as honey. It’s a struggle to remain focused on his words when Namjoon brings your hands together in front of you where you’re propped against him, beginning to bind them a little too expertly with the tie Seokjin had passed him. Your heart beats a little faster, thighs trembling as heady anticipation whirls within you. “What you do to us?”

“Just seeing you was already dangerous enough,” Namjoon murmurs, husky tone brushing the shell of your ear. “But you danced to our song, the song we wrote for you. It’s like you knew what it would do to us…”

It makes something swell in your chest, the confirmation that they had written that song for you. You catch something fond flick through Seokjin’s gaze before he tuts, shaking his head. He pushes your now-tied hands up and over your head, back until you feel the side of your thumbs grazing the back of Namjoon’s neck. Lips brush your neck, eliciting a shiver that Seokjin eagerly drinks in. Long, deft fingers work to undo the top part of your corset, the cushioned bandeau, and slip it from your form. You can visibly see it as his eyes darken, drinking in the sheer bralette barely supporting your breasts. You also know the second he glimpses the tassels pressed beneath, because his teeth sink into his lip and he takes in a sharp breath. 

Namjoon’s wandering hands come to trace the underside of your chest, breath catching in your throat when he takes their weight into his hold and kneads. Warmth shoots to your core, the hints of pleasure curling your toes. You feel breathless as they work in easy tandem, Seokjin slipping your petticoat over your legs and Namjoon removing your bralette. You shiver once your chest is bare, not from the cold but from the intensity and the weight of their gazes as you feel them fall upon you. 

“Leave her corset,” Seokjin instructs, flicking one of your tassels and eliciting a yelp. He settles back further between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs; his gazes falls upon the tattoo on the inside of your leg and the corner of his lips curls up. 

The plush of his lips presses against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the sensation tingling along your nerves. He doesn’t comment on the picture, but when his mouth touches where it is inked into your skin you feel your heart skip a beat nonetheless. 

Your mind is pulled from the sensation of fingers slipping beneath the edge of your panties when Namjoon’s fingers play with the tassels attached to your nipples, tugging and pulling and eliciting all sorts of heady sensations that make your thighs shake. “Joon,” you breathe, something else resting on the tip of your tongue only to be replaced with a whine when Namjoon pulls a little harder, soft open-mouthed kisses pressed to the sensitive column of your neck.

It’s like all of your nerves are alight at once, each touch and brush of their skin against yours heightened and making your heart race and your breath come a little quicker. Seokijn quickly slips your panties off, but leaves the pantyhose and garter belt. His eyes drag a trail of heat up your body, halting where Namjoon has begun to suck marks onto your neck like an artist decorating a canvas. For a moment he is mesmerised, and you can’t help the words that slip from your lips.

“You like what you see?” You ask, curving your back ever so slightly to emphasise your position. Seokjin pins you with an unreadable look, jaw ticking for a moment. 

“Very much so,” he answers, pulling away from you for a moment. He reaches behind him, retrieving something you hadn’t even noticed before now, and when you realise what it is he has in his hand you feel your stomach simultaneously drop and flip in excitement. His eyes meet yours for a moment, an unspoken question whether what he is about to do is okay, and had it been anyone else you know you would have refused, but you trust him. You trust them. You offer him a small nod and you receive the smallest smile in return before he is bringing the camera up to his eye and lining up his shot. 

Flash. Click. The camera isn’t as bulky as you’re used to, and you figure it must be one of the newer models you are far too poor to afford. One picture seems to be enough for him for now, but you know as he places it well to the side that it won’t be the only appearance it makes tonight. 

“Just in case you decide to fly the coop on us again,” he says, a sly look on his face. You scoff, knowing that he’s joking, and hold up your hands, still bound. 

“Like this? Not likely.”

He chuckles, and you feel Namjoon’s chest rumble with a soft laugh against your back as well. The lighthearted moment is over as quick as it arrives as Seokjin settles back between your legs and hardly waits for you to orient yourself before dipping his head down and delivering a broad swipe of his tongue up your slit.

“F— Jin!” you yelp at the sudden shock of pleasure, wriggling in Namjoon’s arms slightly; he nips at your skin in light reprimand, and Seokjin lifts his head only for a moment to scold you with a cheeky gleam in his eyes.

“Careful now, bubs,” he cautions, delivering a small kitten lick to your clit between utterances. “We might have the penthouse but there are still people below us.”

Surprisingly— or perhaps unsurprisingly, when taking the rest of your life and profession into account — the idea of being heard has the opposite effect on you than one might expect. You bite your lip, tipping your head back as Namjoon’s fingers begin to play with you once more and Seokjin begins to bury his face between your legs in earnest. 

It gives you a bit of whiplash, when you think about it; you don’t think you ever would have expected to end up here, in this situation. Crushes or no crushes, you hadn’t even expected to see them again let alone become the meat in a famous musician sandwich. 

It’s almost shameful how quickly the heat and pressure builds within you, Namjoon managing to tug the tassels off completely to roll your flushed buds between his fingers. The noises that sound from Seokjin’s ministrations between your legs are so downright lewd you can feel your face flush with heat, your thighs trembling either side of his head. You attempt to keep your own moans and whines in until Seokjin delivers a smack to your thigh and sends you a warning look. 

Just when you think you might be about to reach your peak, Seokjin stops, pulling back and licking your cream from his lips. The look you send him must be devastated, because he looks absolutely smug. 

“Now, this isn’t just about you,” Seokjin says, carding a hand through his hair before he finishes undoing his shirt and slips it from his form. Your breath catches at the sight of his sculpted torso, and the ink that decorates it in pretty splotches of imagery. You feel so ridiculously naughty, finding the tattoos on him as attractive as you do, and you’re aware of the irony but you just can’t help it. Seokjin could manage to make a potato sack look good. “Hasn’t Joonie been good? Been making you feel so good, with nothing in return? I think we should pay him back.”

It’s all the warning you get before you’re flipped over, braced on your elbows and knees. There is rustling before something plush is slipped beneath you, and Seokjin lowers you down between Namjoon’s legs with the pillow propping your hips up for him to continue where he left off.

Dazed from the sudden shift and beginning to lose yourself to the feeling as Seokjin returns his mouth to your soaked centre, you tilt to meet Namjoon’s dark gaze and offer him a brief smile. You can’t deny, the angle you’re viewing him from is nice, especially as he wrangles his shirt off and you catch glimpses of firm abs and chest. Namjoon, too, has decorated his skin, and it’s somewhat ridiculous how viscerally you’re reacting to it but you really think you might be about to drool. 

The pleasure quickly beginning to build in you once more from Seokjin’s plush lips and agile tongue leaves you no room for pleasantries, “Can I suck you off, Joonie?”

You hear his breath catch before he tips his head back and lets out a soft groan. “Do you even have to ask?”

His response only fuels your eagerness, mouth beginning to feel empty when your face is so close to his crotch you can feel the heat of his body. Considering the state of your hands, Namjoon makes quick work of his belt and slacks for you, shimmying them down with his briefs just enough to let his member spring free, almost completely hard at this point. 

“Holy shoot, Joon,” you curse, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and lust. God, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone as much as you want these two men.  Namjoon shoots you a cheeky, if somewhat dazed, smile that makes his dimples pop out.

“It’s not just me you have to worry about.”

Well that’s a condemning statement if you ever did hear one, considering how you’re hoping this night will go. One of the more open and liberal girls that worked the show with you had once said “god gave me two holes for a reason, girls!” and right now you find you couldn’t agree more. 

You’re sick of your mouth being empty, you decide, and so you forego further foreplay and simply reach for his cock, taking the length into your hands and promptly enveloping his tip in the heat of your mouth.

“Fuck!” Namjoon swears loudly, thighs tensing against your shoulders. The yelp that escapes you as Seokjin smacks your ass melts into a moan that elicits a throaty noise from Namjoon, as well. 

You press and drag your tongue along the underside of his length, gradually working your mouth lower and lower until your nose is brushing the dark patch of curls across his pubic bone, a surprisingly pleasant mixture of musk melding with his cologne and brushing your senses . Even without the pleasure flooding your nerves from Seokjin’s tongue and the way he latches his lips around your clit, the deep, throaty noises tumbling from Namjoon’s mouth are reward enough. Since your hands are bound, your mouth has to do most of the work; when you sink down enough that his tip bumps the back of your throat, you do your best to fight your gag reflex from kicking in fully. 

Namjoon swears once more, just barely stopping himself before it gets too reminiscent of a sailor’s vocabulary. The sensation of your throat constricting around the head of his member makes his hips twitch and buck up ever so slightly, his hands winding into the hair at the nape of your neck. Struggling to keep on task through the haze in your mind, you do your best to build up a rhythm that has Namjoon’s abdomen trembling from the effort of keeping his hips still.

In tandem, the two of you seem to be rapidly approaching your highs— unfortunately for you, that same attention to detail that makes Jin’s ministrations so mind-numbingly good is what alerts him to that fact. Right when you feel yourself tense up in the prelude to your orgasm, Seokjin rips his mouth away, the bed shifting behind you. “Not yet, bubs.”

You can’t help the whine that sounds from your throat, the vibrations making Namjoon jerk.

“Fuck, I’m—”

Flash. Click. 

Another whine, different in tone this time, escapes you at the knowledge that Seokjin has added another filthy memory to his collection. 

“Joonie, you better not cum until I say so. y/n, off.”

Namjoons nails scratch lightly against your scalp, almost making your eyes roll back as he whines lowly in protest. You know you should listen and do as Seokjin says, but you can’t help but push a little, taking your sweet time as you pull your mouth slowly from Namjoon’s length, sucking all the while. The noises that tumble from Namjoon’s mouth as a result are incriminating enough, and even though you knew Seokjin wasn’t going to let it slide it still comes as a surprise when there is a sharp, painful smack against the globe of your ass. It’s hard enough and loud enough that your back arches slightly, mouth leaving Namjoon with a pop so you’re free to cry out. 

“Jin!”

Seokjin’s hand is cool against the smarting flesh of your behind as he rubs soothingly over it, raising an eyebrow as you meet his gaze over your shoulder. “I told you off, bubs. Let’s not make me repeat myself.”

Somewhat petulant despite the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach, you allow him to grab you by the hips and yank you back with a pout, breathless with anticipation when you feel his fingers drag over the dips and curves of your body as though mapping them out. He makes you sit up, your back against his chest as he explores your front, drinking in each gasp and whine as he pinches and tugs your nipples and rolls them between the pads of his fingers. Down, down, down he goes— when his finger drags along your slit and slips over your swollen clit you cry out, unable to help the unwitting buck of your hips. 

“After all the effort I went to to clean you up, you’ve gone and made a mess again,” Seokjin murmurs, pillowy lips brushing the edge of your ear. You quiver in his hold as he rolls a lazy circle around your bud, thighs threatening to close around his hand. You’re suddenly aware of how empty you feel, surprised that you’ve almost orgasmed twice without even being penetrated. 

You try and cant your hips up, not above whining and begging at this point— if he denies you your high one more time you just might go insane. “Please, Jin, please—”

Namjoon, who had taken a moment to recover after almost blowing his load earlier, shifts forward on the bed to join the two of you. His lips find your neck, your jaw, until they finally meet your lips once more and he swallows your sinful noises down. 

“What, you want more? You want my fingers? Look at you. You want to be filled so badly you’re willing to rock against anything with a pulse...”

Heat flushes up your neck to your cheeks, Namjoon’s kiss muffling your whine; you hadn’t thought you would be one to fancy this sort of thing, but if the wetness gushing forth at his words is anything to go by then apparently you do. 

Namjoon parts from your lips, waiting until your eyes focus on him so that he can hold your gaze. “Baby girl,” he murmurs, voice rough. His hand slips down to join Seokjin’s, finger dipping ever so slightly into your slit. The true meaning of his question isn’t lost on you.  “Who do you want?”

You feel almost unhinged with how much raw, restless desire is coursing through you right now— you couldn’t have stopped your answer even if you’d wanted to. “Both… both of you…”

There is a moment of silence following your response, but you don’t have time to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. In the next second Seokjin is swearing lowly under his breath, pressing his lips to your throat to hide his groan.

“Joonie, bedside table. You’ll have to prepare her.”

You’ve never seen Namjoon move as fast as he did the second Seokjin spoke, flying from the bed; he’s back within seconds after retrieving something from the drawers to the side, placing them on the covers. A small rectangular tin and a slim bottle. 

When he sits, waiting eagerly with his cock still flushed and hard and bobbing from the movement, Seokjin turns you around in an abridged version of the way you were before. Taking note of the uncomfortable angle of your arms, he undoes the tie, but doesn’t discard it after slipping it from the reddened skin of your wrists.

With your ass now pointed in Namjoon’s direction, it isn’t long before his hands find purchase and your most intimate area is revealed to him.

“Fuck,” he swears, “You’re so wet, baby. We might not even need the extra help, hyung.”

“Use it just in case,” Seokjin instructs, before turning his attention to you. “Now, if you want to cum later I think you should earn it now, hm?”

Your hands were already moving towards his belt and fly before he’d started talking, but his words renew your vigour. When you free Seokjin’s crotch from the confines of his slacks and briefs, you quickly understand just what Namjoon meant earlier. Namjoon has length, but Seokjin is thick. You wrap your hands around him and can’t help but marvel at his size— you’re a little ashamed of how excited it makes you.

“Ah!” Your plans to engulf Seokjin’s cock in the heat of your mouth are interrupted by a sensation at your rear. You wiggle slightly, unable to help it. “That’s cold!”

Namjoon places a featherlight kiss to your cheek, thick, slippery finger beginning to ease into your hole now that it is sufficiently lubricated. Suddenly aware that your attention is in the wrong place, you do your best to hurry back to what you were doing before you earn yourself another smack. 

“Perfect, bubs.” The groan that rumbles from Seokjin’s throat in praise is so raspy and low that it makes a shiver roll down your spine. As teasingly as you dare, you’re suckling around the flushed head of his cock, feeling it twitch and throb in your hands in response. It’s already a tight fit in your mouth, you can feel your thighs quaking in anticipation as you imagine what it would feel like filling you up. The thought takes you by surprise.

Since when did you start thinking like such a wanton whore?!

Well, you suppose, there is no time like the present. 

Seokjin’s hand threads through your hair, his hips rocking ever so slightly; you watch the way the muscles in his abdomen undulate at the movement and fight to keep your saliva in your mouth as you begin to bob your head down his length. Considering his girth, it’s hard to keep your teeth tucked behind your lips, but you somehow manage; when the time comes that he reaches your throat you’re in a better condition than you were earlier for it, but it’s still a bit of a shock to the system.

“Oh my god,” Seokjin’s thighs quake for the slightest second against you. “Fuck. No wonder Joonie almost blew his load. Look at you. You do this often, huh? Look how well you swallow my cock…”

You moan around him, his words and the oddly pleasant sensation of Namjoon working his fingers in and out of your asshole melding into a pool of heat in your abdomen.  Your eyes flutter closed as you try to focus on making Seokjin feel good, and you’re only distracted by a muted flash behind your eyelids.

Click.

Another shot saved. You take Seokjin further into your mouth, trying to go as far back as you can without gagging. He doesn’t seem to mind the way your throat constricts around his length though, if the noises escaping his plush lips where they part are anything to go by. Namjoon gradually adds one finger after another, making sure you’re accustomed to the stretch at least a little before the next joins. By the time he has squeezed in three fingers and scissored them a few times, you find yourself shaking a bit from the sensations. It’s odd, different to what you’re used to, but oh even with the light burn that accompanies each finger it still feels so good. 

You’re so focused on the sensations that you don’t even realise the attention you’ve been giving Seokjin has strayed, lips sucking a little harder and your hand stroking a little tighter. The salty taste of precum coats your tongue and you have half a mind to be ashamed of the way it makes you long for more. It proves to be a little too much for Seokjin at once, though. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you gently off of him as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Not yet, bubs,” he says, voice rough. His eyes are like magnetic pools as they draw you into their depths, their hold only broken when Namjoon slips a final finger in and you shut your eyes on instinct, mouth dropping open at the sensation. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

Namjoon’s voice makes your stomach flip, his free hand smoothing over the curve of your ass. You find yourself nodding before you even have the thought to do so, and with that Namjoon shifts on the bed behind you. Seokjin helps you move backwards, your eyes trained on his length somewhat longingly. There is the sound of something tearing softly behind you and you find yourself thankful that they took the initiative and you don’t have to ask them about protection.

You’re moved so that you’re straddling Namjoon’s hips with your back to him, still facing Seokjin. The two of them have since discarded their slacks and briefs  and are now presenting themselves in all their naked glory. Namjoon mutters a tender warning, informing you it might burn a bit, and you’ve heard of that but aren’t about to turn tail when you also know it’s going to feel so good after. You feel his tip press against your ass, alarmingly bigger than his fingers, and Seokjin helps ease you down slowly, inch by inch, with a firm grasp on your hips. 

True to the warning you’d received, it does burn; Namjoon had made sure there was more than enough lubrication for an easy glide, though, and by the time he has seated himself fully in you, you’re making noises you don’t think you ever have before. The line between heady pleasure and light pain is so blurred that you’re worried you might have fried your nerves at some point tonight. 

“Oh—” you take in a shuddering breath, shifting your hips ever so slightly and moaning in tandem with the man beneath you. “Joon…”

“Ride him,” Seokjin instructs, hands leaving your hips to reach for his camera once more. “Let’s make him feel good, hm?”

Who are you to say no? 

You pride yourself on having a lot of strength in your limbs, thighs especially, but still they tremble as you roll your hips up until just the tip of Namjoon’s cock remains in you, and then ease back onto him again. It takes a second before you realise the low moan you hear is coming from you, mind so addled with pleasure at this point you almost feel like you’re floating. Bracing yourself on your thighs, you do your best to set a rhythm and maintain it, ignoring the fatigue of your muscles and focusing on how good it feels and the noises tumbling from the man beneath you. 

When there is a sly touch against your swollen clit, you cry out loudly— Namjoon almost shouts at the way you clench around him, his hands flying to your hips to hold you in place for a moment. You look to Seokjin with wide eyes, panting slightly.

“Didn’t you wanna cum so badly, earlier?” he queries, fingers slipping down to slide through the slick mess around your entrance. You moan as he easily sinks two fingers in, pumping lightly. “Don’t stop, fuck yourself on my fingers, bubs.”

It feels so good you think you might tear up; obediently, you resume the pace you set earlier, now riding both Namjoon’s length and Seokjin’s digits. Each time you sink down he curls them, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep this out before your legs become too akin to  jelly to support you.

The answer is: not much longer. Seokjin quickly grows tired of it when your movements slow, thighs trembling from the effort. With a hand to your stomach he pushes you back, shifting your legs so they’re folded with your feet flat against the covers. You scramble for purchase, Namjoon quickly supporting you from behind. 

Seokjin tuts, muttering playfully about having to do everything himself, and it’s all the warning you get before he adds another digit and begins to finger your sopping entrance so hard and good that for a moment your vision goes white.

“S-Seokjin!” you drop your head back, nails sinking into the bedding as he begins to curl his fingers into that delicious spot inside of you with each pump. You had been slowly but steadily climbing back up to the precipice of your orgasm earlier, but now you’re heading there at breakneck speed. Before you know it the coil of pressure is snapping inside you and you’re shaking, pleasure numbing your limbs and making you whine.

By the time your high fades and you tune back in to the moment, you quickly become aware of two things— one, that you’ve somehow managed to coat Seokjin’s whole arm in your fluids, and two, that Namjoon has gone so tense and still beneath you that you think you might have almost killed him.

“Good girl,” Seokjin praises, sucking your cream off the tip of his fingers before wiping the remaining excess on your thigh so he can reach for his own rubber. “Do you need me to wait another moment?”

Assessing your current state, you find yourself shaking your head. You might have thought you would be too sensitive to continue, but Namjoon is still fully seated in your ass and now your pussy feels too empty for you to bear. Seokjin is only too happy to fill that void. 

Nestled between your legs, when he lines his cock up at your entrance and begins to slide in, you all but lose the ability to think. You clench unintentionally from the sensation of being filled so completely, making both men groan and Seokjin halt in his movements. He waits until you relax again before continuing his motion. 

When both men are fully sheathed inside you, you think this really might be what bliss is. Soft, panting whines and moans tumble freely from your throat as Seokjin pushes your thighs to your chest and begins to set a mind-numbing pace. It’s borderline brutal, the way he slams into you and splits you open so hard and good; each time his hips hit home you feel your whole body jostle.

“You can move, Joonie,” Seokjin somehow manages to articulate, sweat beginning to bead across his forehead and dampen the strands falling over it. You don’t know how he can talk, because you know if you tried at this moment you’d likely end up biting off your tongue. 

You feel Namjoon shake his head, hair brushing the space between your shoulder blades. “‘m close,” he mumbles in explanation, a short moan following his words. “Wanna cum together.”

It’s such a sweet desire in the midst of such a lewd situation that you almost get whiplash between the swelling of your heart and the pleasurable ache filling your insides. You feel that he will get his wish soon, because despite your recent high you’re already well on your way to reaching it again— Seokjin’s hips have begun to stutter, too, and you know he isn’t far behind. 

It all reaches its peak when Seokjin slips his hand down, following the angle of your hip bone to your core and rolling your bud with his thumb. It proves to be too much for you, because in the next moment you’re letting out a loud train of expletives and clenching tightly around them as pleasure floods your system once more, mind absolutely blank. The tightness of your heat around them is their undoing and barely a moment after you reach your high they follow suit, the sounds tumbling from them borderline sinful against your ears. 

It takes a bit longer for you to come back to earth, this time. By the time you do, Namjoon is winding his arms around your waist and rolling to the side, taking you and Seokjin with him. You let out a noise of surprise that curls into a laugh, hands gripping his arms as you hit the bed; both men are still inside you, and while you secretly wish it could stay that way for a bit longer, you know you should probably clean up. 

“No,” Namjoon says before you even go to move, a pout in his tone as he buries his face in the back of your neck. Seokjin nestles closer, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. “Stay, just a bit longer.”

That’s a dangerous request, especially considering the way your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy after the events of the night. For them, too, you can hear the way their breathing has already begun to even out. You couldn’t be mad if you tried, though, because just being here in their arms feels so right that you don’t ever want to feel anything else. 

“I guess we can nap…” you say, sounding tired enough that it elicits a chuckle from Seokjin. You let your eyes close, nestling your cheek against the top of Seokjin’s head and enjoying the light scent of his shampoo and cologne. You let out one last warning before you let yourself fall into the abyss, though. Just so they know who’s boss.

“If I see those photos anywhere near my house, Seokjin, it won’t just be me getting disowned.”

The laughter that tumbles forth in response just adds to the warmth flooding your being, and you let yourself relax, contented and truly happy for the first time in three years. 

[waka-chan-out]

Haikyuu Swearing Headcanons

my brain was full of these so im sharing the wealth

content warning: swearing. obviously. that’s it.

Karasuno

Daichi: something about “damn” is really satisfying for him to say. when he’s really upset he’ll add a “goddamn” in front of every goddamn thing he says

Sugawara: frequently tells people to stop bitching. once told daichi “shut your whore mouth” and the team still doesn’t know how he survived

Asahi: really shy about swearing aloud but his internal dialogue is a constant stream of “shit shit shit shit”

Tanaka: titties

Nishinoya: motherfucker

Ennoshita: fuck. more specifically, fucker

Kinoshita: mostly negative self talk. like “you stupid piece of shit how could you do that now everyone thinks you’re a dumbass.” pls be kind to yourself sweet boy

Tsukishima: variants of “ass.” dumbass, smartass, etc.

Yamaguchi: also shy about swearing in front of other people, but get him alone with tsukki and he’s got a potty mouth

Kageyama: i’m sorry i just have to go with dumbass

Hinata: ass

Coach Ukai: ukai 🤝 ennoshita - use of the word fucker. i also feel like he’s a pussy man.

Takeda: doesn’t swear often, but when he does it’s one word like “damn” or shit”

Yachi: i cannot imagine her swearing ever i’m so sorry

Kiyoko: doesn’t swear much in daily life, but when she’s quoting someone she doesn’t hesitate and everyone’s brains are offline for 3-5 business days

Aoba Josai

Oikawa: doesn’t casually swear much but when he does he’s trying to make a point. phrases like “eat my ass” and “suck my dick” are quite common

Iwaizumi: pussy. i do not think i need to explain.

Matsukawa: motherfucker

Makki: makes up his own and purposefully mispronounces words. mattsun calls him a motherfucker? makki is countering with fothermucker. is also partial to the phrase “jesus christ on a bike” but the more frustrated he is the more elaborate and ridiculous the description of jesus and the mode of transportation get.

Kindaichi: doesn’t swear that often but when he does it’s usually a “shit” under his breath. panics if he things anyone heard him.

Kunimi: says more with his facial expressions than with his mouth but when he does it’s mostly insults. especially likes calling kindaichi “shithead”

Nekoma

Kuroo: bastard. thinks it sounds classy

Kenma: not so much a single word, but a string of profanity that makes less sense the more frustrated he is. loses at an online game and spouts off “you goddamn shit-eating motherfucker why don’t you suck my dick and die you greedy fucking bastard.” also will not hesitate calling someone a cunt. he’s a scary little man.

Lev: idk i feel like he says sugar honey iced tea

Yaku: he’s calling everyone a motherfucker

Yamamoto: likes saying bitch but only to other men

Fukunaga: man of few words. constantly calls everyone little shits in his head

Fukurodani

Bokuto: whatever he’s heard recently. repeats it until everyone around him is sick of it. please don’t let him watch game of thrones

Akaashi: panicked use of “fuck fuck fuck.” it’s never a one off thing, just a string of profanity

Shiratorizawa

Ushijima: not really a swearer because he doesn’t find it necessary, but tendou once overheard him saying “i can’t get the damn ball to stay in the court” when practicing serves and he literally will not shut up about it

Tendou: calls everyone pricks

Goshiki: “god fucking damn it”

Semi: we all know this man says pussy

Inarizaki

Atsumu: leans towards full phrases like oikawa, but he also uses “tit” and “titties” so often that osamu might snap

Osamu: motherfucker. pussy. bastard. anything he can direct against atsumu

Kita: man of few wasted words. i feel like he just never started swearing so never really does. he’d only really swear if he picked it up from a partner. however, one time when the miya’s were fighting aran heard him say “those damn twins” and ascended

Suna: he is a simple man. fuck will do nicely.

Aran: shit. i don’t know how to explain it.

Date Tech

Aone: shoot and darn it

Futakuchi: calls everyone fuckers. aone HATES it

Koganegawa: watches too many old movies and has picked up some really bizarre phrases that he uses in daily life like “great scott” and “good golly”

Other

Sakusa: he’s a damn it guy but he knows his way around the phrase “shut the fuck up miya”

Terushima: dick and pussy. this man knows who he is lmao

Daishou: calls everyone insufferable bastards

[generallypo]

in all sincerity, kim dokja makes me happy and he deserves to be so too :^(

incoherent yelling and sobbing under the cut. these fEELINGS will not be contained aaauuunnghhh. 

------

anyway i binge-read all 500+ chapters of ORV this week and i honest to god feel bad for this -- completely! fictional! aghhhh -- guy. in case you haven’t figured it out, the following is some spoilerly shit

i went in expecting a fun, brainless power trip fantasy for dudes with an isekai addiction. instead, it turns out ORV is actually a gigantic, self-deprecating prank on the entire genre itself. kdj plays more into the sad -- if high-functioning-- clown trope than the sexy, edgy, chuuni bastard type i was prepared to laugh at. there were -- gasp! -- female characters with personalities! parents (aka ADULTS who act like ADULTS) who actually survive and feature prominently! adorable children! a real sexy, edgy bastard! a power trio with amazing fashion! sexual tension and bickering! friendship! life and death bonding! 

*breathes in deeply* fouND FAMILYYYYYYY.

like, yeah, the plot around the first few arcs seems a little aimless, but the buildup is worth. the world-building is pretty decent. there’s discernible effort put into the fight scenes, and i can appreciate that. but -- but! what i stayed for were the characters -- namely, the fantastic OT3 of KDJ, HSY, and YJH -- who come together despite their initial rivalries and end up saving each other’s asses, like, every other day. granted, the other characters don’t get as much focus, and they do fall into certain character tropes.. 

but a trope done well is nothing i would gripe about. every significant character in ORV has a coherent, and more importantly, respectful take on their respective trope. maybe it’s because sing-shong is actually a married couple, but all the interactions between even minor characters are a convincing blend of awkward rambling, suggestive humor, sharp remarks, and casual banter. in other words, this cast of mostly working adults (plus a teen and two kids) talks like working adults. the relationships built throughout the story are, frankly, some of most realistic of its genre. sing-shong has managed to craft a dynamic that undoubtedly brims with fluffy fondness all around, but also drips with sarcastic tension, with unspoken urgency, with a wariness that softens into sincerity over the course of many, many chapters. it’s the kind of progression that makes even stock characters read like more than just the 2-bit villain or comrade or love interest. here, we have relationships both straightforward and not, strained or otherwise, romantically-oriented as well as decidedly the opposite -- and then numerous others scattered along the spectrum with the freedom to shift either way. 

it’s also an interesting point of note that our MC kdj actually does not end up with a stated romantic partner, much less a conventional heteroromantic harem. he gets teased about that fact from time to time, but it’s with less of the sleazy shonen locker room humor one would expect and more of the good-natured ribbing you’d find among friends or that one especially nosy auntie at the yearly family reunion. kdj is a grown ass man. in the background, i applaud his maturity, and he handles all the prodding like a champ. 

so instead of finding and fulfilling his horny, he builds himself a wealth of loving family. yeah, there are beautiful men and women around him. yeah, they unequivocally adore him. but they’re also adults, and they have priorities, too -- which are not so much finding a way to bang kdj’s brains out and more so simply keeping the damn guy alive. this is truly not ‘oblivious mc with his thirsty, sex kitten harem’. it just so happens that a guy proves himself to be unflinchingly gentle and capable in an apocalyptic setting despite his broken self-esteem, and lots of people find that attractive, romantically and platonically. 

it.. kinda makes sense? he’s a hard worker, thoughtful, and good with kids. kdj is the kind of guy you know would make a reliable partner, and anybody with eyes can plainly see and appreciate that. 

and it’s not that our MC’s a total brick wall. in fact, it’s likely the opposite, and he’s just too darned repressed to admit it. from what has been implied, kdj does indeed recognize and accept love, or at least a primitive concept of it. i like to imagine that the kind of love that he ends up seeking out simply manifests itself more easily as acceptance and safety, as warmth and a home of people to return to every day. even better, the people who surround him know this, and they give him exactly that. it’s refreshing, and honestly, really sweet.

(as a side note, i really, really do appreciate the cosmic bi energy radiating off of kdj, who canonically earns the title of being loved by all and is all but in name married to yjh and hsy. he also respects women and small children and honestly anyone who isn’t total scum to him or his family. i respect that.)

but the happy stuff aside, you know it it just ain’t ORV without the generous screaming dollop of angst. admittedly, there’s self-sacrifice, injury, lonesome wandering, more sacrifice, some epic fighting, reunion and confrontation. all of it is a lot to digest, sure, but never does it feel entirely hopeless, or truly, truly heart-clenching. ORV, up until the final act, is a mostly light read. you relax in your chair, thinking that nothing beyond this point can disturb you. 

yeah fucking right.

------

and then the beginning of the end arrives. when the squad finally break through to their ‘ending’, the scene that kind of breaks me is the reveal of the Most Ancient Dream. it ties so much thematically into the little tidbits that we get of kdj’s past, and it though it feels like almost a joke that the source of the goddamn apocalypse is a kid with bruises smeared across his skinny ass body -- it’s such a pathetic picture that it’s kinda poetic, actually. you’re left mystified but somewhat convinced, like a math problem explained halfway through. this.. child.. is a villain somehow, isn’t he?

and then 999th turn uriel speaks up, and she. just. hugs him. 

[[You are this universe’s most powerless existence, aren’t you.]] 

that. that gets me. kdj’s reaction immediately upon this revelation? absolute murder. seeing him essentially self-destruct upon realizing that all these people he’s surrounded himself with -- some who continuously proclaim their loyalty and affection for him throughout their journey, some who suffered eons of war and loss and trauma because of his existence -- not only forgive his younger self but smother him with unconditional acceptance and love is stifling, is too vulnerable and exposed and he simply can’t cope -- it’s so telling of his true mentality, of his crippling insecurity and crumpled sense of self-worth. kim dokja is a liar, through and through, so much that he fails, or perhaps refuses, to comprehend the veracity of others’ kindness and love towards himself. 

by some miracle, the events at the end of the world somehow resolve.. or so it seems. there is a departing train, a liberated team of ex-gods, and a child rousing from his slumber. in the aftermath, i am left shaking. somehow, despite the ending having been (happily?) reached, there’s still another chapter ahead. what is this witchcraft?

------

and then ah, yes -- the epilogue arc. i teetered on the edge of being critical for a little bit there -- is that display of deus ex machina, of sad, self-sacrificing nobility a bit too egregious to be acceptable? is this some wild last let-me-yank-this-outta-my-ass plot twist to drag out the chapter count? i sincerely thought that the arc before it would have been the finale. i was wrong. thank god.

anyways, as an answer to the above: no, and no. i stake my firm claim on the belief that the epilogue arc was meticulously planned out well in advance of its release, confusing and time-warpy as it is. i liked it. tremendously. even if it entirely invalidates all of kdj’s supposed development (”haha lol yeah sure i won’t sacrifice myself or anything anymore guys don’t worry about me” -- KDJ, at some point because he’s a lying rat bastard). actually, our beloved MC disappears for a large chunk of this arc, and i think it’s great. in his absence, the other characters not only go absolutely fucking nuts, but they have to figure out this new problem on their own, even if the lure of peaceful complacency in the newly saved Korea might convince them otherwise. 

and then the whole time paradox thing comes around. yjh goes to space, hsy saves the only life she can, and kdj grows up. the crew waits, holding onto their hope even if it bleeds them dry. sing-shong does a damn good job of illustrating their fraying calm, their lurking madness, the unseen but pervasive depression that seeps in from kdj’s absence. the kids lose their father, lhs and jhw lose their reliable leader figure, ysa loses a best friend and confidant, lsk -- as distant as she pretends to be from her son -- loses her only child. and then there’s hsy and yjh , who are essentially bereft of the other half of their existences. their pain is palpable, is grounded in the hopeless, gnawing frustration of an utterly meaningless victory. emotionally, ORV hits all the right -- if agonizing -- beats.

however, a story can’t sustain itself just through its pathos. i’m happy to say that ORV doesn’t drop the ball after the first milestone, and after all the hurt, the characters do leap straight back into action. even better, the plot holes actually do get patches, and the poetic cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader comes full circle by making use of all those supposedly throwaway characters from the myriad world lines. 

at the end of the road, there is a distinct sense of unity, of a delicate but undeniable cohesion to the world lines and their origins. sing-shong lets us guess a little here at the finish, but there’s just enough information to feel hopeful. maybe there never had been a definite start -- or finish -- to the story of kdj company, and... that’s okay. everybody ends up where they were meant to be, where they fought and struggled to reach. it’s.. almost like a happily ever after, if we’re allowed to dream of that.

------

now, i realize, this was all an orchestrated maneuver.

i’ll take it.

to me, all of this work sounds like someone put some serious thought into this behemoth of a plot. it cements the entire original premise of the story. it suggests -- but never explicitly confirms! -- the possibility that breaking free of the cycle is possible through the exact same system that sustains it. it’s terribly interesting -- and inspirational! with all the dramatic revelations and life-threatening scenarios  and the cast’s resigned acceptance of them that essentially make up ORV’s entire mood, there’s still that last hint of rebellious and righteous anger that lights up the whole damn nebula. it’s like the kdj company blasting away at the heavens just to yell into the nether: we’re not looking for the happy end, but the free one. stay alive.

it’s subtle, and yet it’s such an emotional gut punch. i came away with the most ruinous, frustrating, bittersweet sense of longing in ages. i pined. for these fictional darlings. god, i am weak.

so. yeah. ORV is pretty good. flawed, but ambitious and impressively thought out.  i’m stoked that the webtoon is making pretty good progress, even if it’ll take an eternity and a half to meet that monstrous chapter count. i’m still gonna follow it. hell yeah. 

------

(by the way the idea that secretive plotter and co are literally gonna take care of and raise baby kdj and spoil him and be the best friggin family a kid could ever want does things to me. protect him. he’s suffered too much. let at least one worldline’s version of him know happiness. and actually, aLL OF THEM DESERVE DOMESTIC BLISS TOGETHER IN A BIG OL MANSION WITH SUN AND FRESH AIR AND TENDER FAMILY MOMENTS UGH)

------

and there you have it, folks. you made it to the end. in the far, far distance, i’m cheering you on and crying my eyes out in gratitude. thanks for tuning in!

[tainted-wine]

(Snapped a pic because I lost the darn ask)

Thank you, anon! She didn’t exactly forget in this case, but bear with me. This crack is basically a happier ending to Spring Bird Survival Guide. It was supposed to be a couple sentences long. I don’t know how it turned into nearly 3,000 words. I...I wrote a whole fic.

....Enjoy?

---------------------------------

(NSFW)

“Why did you stop taking them?” He sounds more confused than you’ve ever heard him, the slight shake in his voice betraying his fear.

You didn’t mean for him to catch you in his bathroom, positive pregnancy test still in your hands. Your plan was to figure out when would be the appropriate time to tell him, assuming that he didn’t catch on to the constant nausea added to your pains. At least this saves you the trouble of keeping secrets.

“Because…the Commission can go fuck themselves.” You take his hand and place it right above your womb, hearing his breath hitch. “Let’s start a family, Keigo.”

Hawks knew that this was beyond stupid. It was stupid of you to put yourself in this position, it was stupid of him to even be considering this, and it was stupid of both of you to attempt such a thing behind the Commission’s back.

But his birdbrain didn’t care about any of that right now.

He pulls you in for a suffocating kiss. “My little hen is about to become a mother hen.” He takes you to bed and claims you out of pure joy.

—————————————

That buzzfood article was frankly right. Mutant bodies didn’t make any sense, and what they could do to other people’s bodies made no friggin sense either. As time passed, not only was his seed growing inside of you at an alarming rate, something felt off. These weren’t the kicks of a single fetus, it felt akin to a strange cluster of objects crammed into your womb, shifting about in a way that sometimes made you shudder.

You haven’t been able to see a doctor at all—Hawks wanted you to stay in his house at all times and away from the public’s eye—so there was no way to properly check, but it didn’t take too many guesses to figure out what was happening.

“You didn’t tell me that I’d lay eggs!”

“I didn’t know!” Hawks swears that he didn’t hatch out of an egg himself and had no way of predicting this.

The development of the eggs only took about a month. When it was time to birth them…

“I hate you! God, I hate you so fucking much for putting me through this!” You screamed in pure agony as tears streamed down your face, using every ounce of strength in your body to keep pushing.

Hawks was kneeling between your legs, caressing your thighs lovingly as he watched his offspring’s vessels emerge from your stretched hole. “I’m sorry, baby. You can chew me out all you want later, alright? Just keep pushing. You’re doing great.” Oh fuck him. Fuck him and all of his comfort, making you do this on his own bed, without the security of doctors who actually know how to do this properly. Squeezing out three baby-sized eggs was like a temporary vacation in hell.

Once the eggs were all brought into the world, Hawks wrapped them up in blankets and placed them under a lamp. He knew that there were actual incubators for couples like the two of you, but he’d rather keep them cozy with his personal belongings instead of some lifeless factory-made device.

“I’m not farming chickens that I’ll eat later. These are our kids.”

You’ve been too exhausted to argue, having lost a frightening portion of your body weight. Hawks was having a little too much fun in gorging you, trying to hand-feed you meats of all kinds.

Another month goes by, and you think something must be wrong because those eggs shouldn’t be cracking already, right? But amazingly, you watch as gooey newborns flail about until they have fully broken out of their protective shells. Hawks sadly missed the hatching, but when he comes home and sees his three sons for the first time, he cries.

Somehow, you’re still surprised when they grow quickly. It was concerning. Is that healthy? Three more months pass, and all three of them have fully feathered wings. Hawks teaches them how to fly and use their quirks, and they learn with carefree laughs and smiles on their faces. Healthy or not, you’re going to do everything you can to keep these little fledglings happy.

—————————————

“Let’s have more.”

Your eyes nearly pop out. “More? Already?”

You both sit on the roof of the house, your three boys chasing each other across the starry sky. Both of you have to always remind them to stay quiet and within Mommy and Daddy’s sight when they play outside.

Hawks places his hand over yours. “They could use some more siblings, don’t you think? I’ve got more than enough to provide for them.”

It sounds stupid. Doing any of this was stupid, honestly, and you’re not looking forward to carrying more of his eggs. Yet, a simpler part of your mind wanted this, to take as many of his children as possible, and you decided to listen to it.

“Alright.”

—————————————

The Commission was destined to find out sooner or later, though you’re not sure how. You were eventually fired after your long absence that you refused to give them an explanation for. It’s possible that they still managed to spot your kids while they were outdoors, despite you and Hawks’s many precautions.

You were watching your new clutch of eggs—four of them this time—when the winged hero arrived, the features on his face pressed into a tranquil fury that made you shiver.

“He wanted to take them,” he said lowly through gritted teeth. “He wanted to take our kids and turn them into heroes. Into fucking weapons.”

You held him, feeling his anger ebb with your soothing rubs across his back, right between the base of his wings. “What do we do? We can’t hide from them. You can’t talk them out of anything. Oh god, Keigo, what do we do?” You felt completely helpless, knowing that you couldn’t stop them if they decided to take your little angels away.

Hawks looked to the pile of sleeping boys, having worn themselves out after a hyper game of tag that required you to keep a close eye to ensure they didn’t break anything. At just a little less than a year old, they could be mistaken for being around the age of ten. “They’re really skilled fliers already, aren’t they? Even have great control of their feathers.” He nodded to himself, lost in his own head. “Yeah...I’ll show them weapons.”

The sinister air around him was scaring you. “Keigo?”

His face returned to a cheerful smile as he planted a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, mother hen. I’ve got this under control.”

“But what about the deputy? He’s going to come for our kids!”

You felt his whole body shake from his deep chuckle. “No he’s not.”

And that’s when you noticed it. The dried specks of reddish-brown on his jacket, almost like a splatter. Blood.

“I killed him.”

—————————————

It won’t be long before the Commission goes after Hawks for killing one of their own, so he wasn’t going to give them time to plan.

You didn’t appreciate him taking the kids behind your back, and you had no idea what danger he was putting them in until you heard the news.

The Hero Public Safety Commission HQ had been attacked and overwhelmed.

—————————————

By the time your second clutch hatched, Hawks already had full control of what was once the HPSC. He gave you a tour through the remodeled building, your kids roaming the halls excitedly as if they didn’t just overthrow an entire organization. Some of the employees greeted you warmly, some gave forced smiles. One of them bowed respectfully with a twitchy grin.

“I’m happy to be a part of the Hawks Hero Force, ma’am. We are going to make great changes.”

You...didn’t know what to say to that.

You stuck to raising your kids while Hawks did whatever diabolical shit he was doing, but it was hard to ignore the growing tension in the city. He and his kids have been holding off opposing heroes for weeks, all of them trying and failing to bring down the rising power of the number two hero. You saw the debates on television. People were arguing whether the dissolution of the Commission was for Japan’s benefit and that Hawks should be supported, or question if Hawks should be trusted at all for disposing of the very people that got him where he is today. What was even his game plan?

You didn’t care much yourself. The only insight Hawks has given you was that he was setting up a city that would be safe for all of his children. Sounds good enough to you.

In just a few more months, your other four kids were eager to join their father’s cause. You and Hawks no longer mention the rapid growth of your offspring...and the short lifespans they likely possess. There was no point in letting those fears resurface.

You hug them all, telling them to visit Mommy on weekends and always keep their feathers clean and sharp for battle.

“Don’t worry, Mommy! We’re gonna teach those heroes not to defy Dad!”

—————————————

The part of the HQ building Hawks led you to was like a bizarre fusion of a love hotel room and a nursery. It was such a strange setup, that you almost forgot to question the young lady that has been following him around.

He gives her a few pats on the shoulder. “This here is Hina, one of my most loyal followers. She’s been on my side since the beginning.” Hina gives a polite smile and bows in your direction.

And then Hawks lays it all on you. How he wants kids at a quicker rate, and his female supporters would be perfect for this...you’re dumbstruck. Your belly was already swelling with his potent seed for the third time, and somehow that wasn’t enough?

“I promise you there’s nothing else to it. Isn’t that right, Hina?”

The woman stood tall and nodded. “I’m only here to help Hawks in his cause.”

Hawks gave her an approving smile before turning back to you. “And if you’re not convinced, just stick around. I welcome the audience.”

The suggestion catches you so off-guard that you agree to it. You take a seat on one of the beds (holy shit this was a goddamn breeding room) and watch him and Hina settle on one right next to you.

“All fours, missy.” Hina obeys his command and prepares herself on her hands and knees.

You watch. You watch Hawks rub her moistened folds while stroking himself until fully erect. You watch him slowly push in, hearing the sharp intake of breath from Hina. He stays at a moderate pace, holding her hips and gently rocking her with his thrusts. It’s…odd, watching the men you’ve had seven (so far) children with take another woman to bear more.

The girl that was a complete stranger to you was sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, but that still wasn’t enough to hold back her moans. Still, it was hard to pay attention to her, because Hawks’s eyes were locked onto yours. Even as his breaths and movements quickened, even as Hina began to shake and collapse onto her elbows as she reached her climax, he never tore his gaze away from you. He finally did when his eyes shut tightly as he buried himself balls-deep into his dear follower, blessing her with several spurts of his sperm into her welcoming womb.

You couldn’t help but rub your own belly at the sight.

He unfolded the sheets and helped the dazed woman get settled into the bed. “You should get cleaned up later, but for now, just rest.” He said softly.

Hina mumbled nonsense, already half-asleep.

Hawks straightened himself out before walking over to you, excited to rub the stomach that cradled his chicks. “I’m gonna give you all the children you could ever want, baby. And remember,” he gave you a kiss of pure love and passion. “I’ll always only have eyes for you.”

You smiled and hugged him tightly. All of the children in the world…Keigo’s children. “Sounds perfect.”

“Soon, I’ll have all of these beds filled.”

—————————————

Hawks and his children have amazingly lowered Fukuoka’s crime rate by a significant amount. You never imagined living in such a peaceful time. You didn’t understand the interviews and articles, the ones that expressed fear and outrage over being attacked by winged individuals for doing anything that can be perceived as villainous. There were heroes still trying to destroy the Hawks Hero Force, creating alliances of their own to face this new dominating power. They were usually taken care of pretty quickly—all it takes is a flurry of sharp feathers from several pairs of wings to crush the foolish rebels.

You don’t understand why they resisted so much. All they had to do to avoid Hawks’s wrath was be a law-abiding citizen, and also not harm his kids. Oh yeah, anyone—hero or not—that made the mistake of injuring you and your man’s angels had this weird habit of…disappearing.

You had about fifty of them by now. Fifty winged beauties that keep the peace with proud and innocent smiles. Not all of them were yours—they had many mothers now—but you treated them all like your own.

One would expect Hawks to start losing track of his precious eyases, but he remembers every single one of them like they hatched yesterday. Each name…every voice…every face…he didn’t forget any of them, and loved them all equally. When they weren’t enforcing laws, they were cuddling and playing with their father or mothers.

You wandered through the incubation room, looking over the many nests that held your future. The mothers-in-the-making were resting in their beds next door, their bellies growing each day.

This is what paradise looked like.

—————————————

3 years later...

Buzzfood.com

(NOTICE: Buzzfood would like to remind citizens that next Saturday is Skewer Saturday of this month. Please be prepared to offer a chicken skewer to any descendants of Hawks that are currently residing in your neighborhood. If you need help searching for the best skewers to purchase in your area, take a look at our recommended restaurants here. Citizens that do not participate in Skewer Saturday will be taken in by the Hawks Hero Force and punished accordingly. Show your appreciation for our crime-free country!)

Great Hawks Celebrates His 1000th Child

By Yuki Burushito

Another great day in Fukuoka! But this day in particular just might be the greatest day yet! Why, you ask? Our beloved leader Hawks has brought his thousandth child into the world! A public ceremony was held to welcome this beautiful girl on this earth and, more importantly, this blessed country. Hawks and his wife were in tears, and I must say, seeing this vulnerability from such a powerful man moved me like nothing else. May your precious daughter one day join her brothers and sisters in the eternal battle of keeping the peace!

Speaking of peace, we must not forget that even though Japan is enjoying its best years in history, our peace is still being threatened every day. There are villain groups lurking in your city’s slimy cracks, plotting to destroy everything Hawks has worked so hard to create. They even have the audacity to call themselves heroes. We all know that the only heroes needed today are the noble winged ones that fight to keep us safe and comfortable. One group in particular insists on giving Hawks a hard time whenever they can: the One For All Alliance. The majority of the members in this gang are former students and teachers from the now-defunct U.A. High School. Their influence may be spreading, but our love and support for Hawks will always smother their poisonous lies!

We must do our part in ensuring that Japan retains its place as the World’s Paradise!

—————————————

You find him on the roof of his house, watching your three eldest boys fly freely as the orange dawn painted the city’s skyline. Only three years old, yet their bodies were strong and hardened, one of them sporting facial hair similar to their father’s.

He of course panics and scolds you when he spots you trying to climb with your bulging stomach. You only roll your eyes as he helps you up. You’ve gone through this reproductive process more than enough times to know your body’s limits.

“They wanted to reminisce for a while,” Hawks explains, back to watching the playful flights. “They make three years sound like it was ages ago. Then again…” His proud gleam twisted into something sadder, his mind entering that dark pit he tries so hard to avoid.

You cover one of his hands with yours. “No matter how long they have, we’re going to keep working to make sure they enjoy every minute of their life. You’ve given so much to all of your children. Be proud of how great of a father you are.”

The smile he gives is soft and warm. You’ve been seeing those more than his cocky smirks lately.

The sun continues to rise as you both kiss under its morning rays, lost in each other’s love. He only pulls back to speak again. “How about we gather some of the youngsters for a trip to the amusement park? It’s been a while.”

You can’t hide your worry at the suggestion. “Are you sure? Villains love to strike when you’re not active.

He gave a smug grin. Ah, there’s the old him. “They do, and they still get their asses kicked. My kids can handle it. I’ve got all the free time in the world, my little hen.” He holds you close and you both return to watching your darlings fly.

“More free time than I know what to do with.”

[bxcktovampyrs]

a drabble

Klaus x OC / Klaus x Reader

Summary: Klaus and Y/N have had to deal with a lot of things recently and are taking a date night to themselves

Warnings: Lots of fluff :)

    Walking into the living room of the Mikaelson manor, you looked around, one hand resting on your hip. Your y/c hair was tossed into a haphazard ponytail and strands stuck out all over your head. 

    “Nik?” Taking a step forward, your slippered feet slid out from under you, causing your body to fall backwards and a shocked yelp to escape you. Right before crashing to the floor, there was a whoosh of air and you were suddenly held aloft in the arms of none other than the Hybrid himself. 

    Klaus Mikaelson looked down at you, his blue eyes narrowed in slight frustration, but mostly pure adoration. “Y/N, love, what’re you doing here? In slippers?” His gaze darted to your feet that hung over his arm. You felt self-conscious in the blue dress you wore, and in his arms it was hiked up to your hips. 

    “Um, just here to, you know, see you. Why else would I be here?” Kicking your legs a bit to try and get out of his arms, he eventually put you down and your dress fell back around your knees. “You seem busy, I’ll just, uh, go. I have, um, things to do? Yep, that’s it. My laundry needs washing and-” 

     Before you could finish, Klaus placed his hands on your cheeks and shot you an easy smile. “Wait. Let’s have a date night, alright? The family’s gone off, just you and I. What do you say?” 

      His strangely innocent smile and pleading blue eyes immediately caused you to agree, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “Fine, fine. Your puppy dog eyes don’t fool anyone, mister.” 

      Klaus chuckled easily, pressing his lips to your forehead and directing you to the couch. “I’ll make dinner, pick out a movie, my love. Nothing too bad, please. Last time you chose the Notebook and-” 

      “Don’t say anything bad about the Notebook, it’s amazing! Don’t even start, your movie choices suck ass.” 

      He laughed loudly and shook his head, heading into the kitchen as you grabbed the remote and flicked through the movie choices. Unsurprisingly, the Mikaelsons had every site subscription one could get. You decided on Brooklyn Nine-Nine and waited for him to return with the food. 

     After an agonizingly long time, you stood and headed into the kitchen to figure out what was taking him so long. He was standing at the oven, juggling multiple foods and was struggling with making the pasta sauce. “Nik? Are you alright?” You were trying not to laugh at the sight of him not being the greatest cook. “Do you need help?” 

     He raised his index in her direction, stirring the sauce before flashing to the pasta as it began bubbling over. “I’m fine! A woman doesn’t deserve to be in the kitchen, you have no need to help me.” 

     “Niklaus, for the love of God, you’re so stubborn. Stop that, let me help.” You headed to the sauce, tasting it before adding some more salt. He didn’t bother flashing you out of the kitchen, you only would’ve returned. That was the problem with you, you both were equally as stubborn as the other. It created multiple headbutts in the relationship, but the arguments were a good stress relief in your opinion. 

      Pouring the sauce into its own bowl, you taste-tested it again and then looked over at Klaus as he doused the pasta in an unhealthy amount of butter. “Oh, Nik.” He looked up, guilt plastered on his face. 

     “Is it too much? I didn’t mean to ruin it-” 

      Oh, darn those puppy dog eyes.

      “No! It’s fine, it’s fine. You did amazing, it tastes great. Delicious.” 

      In truth, it tasted less than great but you weren’t going to tell him that. He wasn’t used to cooking, having survived on blood and you needing actual human sustenance was a new concept for him to figure out. “Niklaus . . . when was the last time you cooked?” 

      He blinked and closed his eyes, counting on his fingers for a moment. “It’s . . . been a minute. A good century or two, human food isn’t exactly a regular in my life, love.” He moved across the kitchen, brushing your hair back from your face. “But, I’m happy to make the disgusting food for you.” 

     You laughed at his joking manner and pressed your lips easily against his, hands resting on his neck. He was warm, which you had never expected from a vampire. His skin was warm under your palms, and you loved the moles on his neck. “Dork.” 

     He rolled his pale blue eyes and kissed your forehead, tugging you into an embrace. “Y/N, I do believe you’re the only person on this planet who thinks that.” 

     Resting your nose against the crook of his shoulder, you smiled. “Good.” 

     An hour and a messy dinner later, the two of you were sat on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine. “You know,” you started, resting your back against his chest, “Holt reminds me a lot of Elijah.” 

     Klaus laughed loudly, his chest rumbling with the sound. “I was just thinking that. They are quite similar, maybe the writers interviewed Elijah beforehand or met him.” Klaus twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “I fell bad for them if they did, he’s such a bore.” 

     Snorting, you slapped his knee. “You’re such a jerk to him. Be nicer, maybe then you two won’t argue quite so much.” 

     Niklaus pulled your hair slightly, causing you to yelp in pain. He shot you a sly smile. “Mm, he’s just so easy to get into fights with, though.” 

     You released a drawn out sigh and shook your head, holding in a chortle. “You’re such a dick.” Twisting, you curled against his chest and closed your eyes, signalling you were tired. Klaus wrapped his arms around your back, too entranced in the show at this point to get to bed. 

     At some point, you fell asleep in his arms, and when you awoke, you were still in the same position. It was hours later and the TV was off, Klaus was passed out under you. His arms were wrapped tightly around your torso, and his nose rested in your hair. You smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

      He mumbled in his sleep, shaking off your kiss with a sleepy sigh. “Nuh-uh, mate, go away. Taken.” He rolled, practically squishing you under his weight as he fell back asleep. You bit back a laugh and wrapped you arms around his neck, falling back to sleep yourself.

[valatheapprentice]

Random main 6 head cannons because I can?

(My first set of these. Shoukd I do more? Open for suggestions)

Asra

You know people who have no chill? He's the opposite. He stole their chill. Just don't get sick or arrested and he'd be aight.

Until you get sick. Ptsd of the plague will make him so on edge. You both will need to talk about it since you don't remember it and don't want there to be tension

We all knew this, but snake sweaters and little hats

He has a specific tea for gossiping. Nothing magically relevant, just he likes the feeling he gets. Maybe hibiscus and skullcap? Idk ill look at my herbs and think on it

He likes to put temporary/semi permanent color in his hair. Just a couple face framing strands. Maybe on holidays or birthdays or big events

Eats healthy, but his weakness is soda. Loves the carbonation

Julian

Normally will not say no to you if you want something. If he does, you might change his mind through looking at him in a certain way. Or a blowjob

Unpopular opinion: the man is a switch! He has an extremely stressful job. He has days he has to keep it all together and have control of everything and other people. Then he may wanna bottom. There will be days nothing seems to work out and he feels out of control. He may wanna top then.

Has a vague belief system. Since "dating" asra, he realized that magick was real and I have no doubt he tagged along in at least one holiday ritual. He may not be any more than letting whoever is out there, look over MC. He may want to learn more if you are heavily into it

Bitters and butter pecan ice cream for breakfast? You're darn tootin

Malak will steal your food. Jules may not care until you're in a screaming match with a bird. He may find it so freaking cute though.

He pops so much melatonin pills to sleep, please make the man something lavender to drink. He would also have a weighted blanket. Cuddles help wonderfully, but humans are not blankets. Whether he has a heated stuffed animal is up to your imagination. Long story short, its a cute ass sight

Nadia

I think she doesn't have a faith system. She celebrates whatever vesuvias main holidays are for public appearances. But I truly think she may be atheist. The way she felt about family growing up, her husband being the way he was, and whatever else we don't know about? Idk. He heart can change towards people but I dont think she has any faith.

Make the woman lavender and honey cupcakes for her birthday

On her period, she will eat a certain strawberry ice cream and watch Mulan on repeat while in fuzzy pj's.

Modern au nadia. I think her favorite music comes from the Civil wars. No idea why I thought that but im sticking with it

If single, I think she'd use tinder on particularly lonely nights. Not often, but once in a while

Wanna see her blush, surprise her. Especially in public. Confess your love in a restaurant. Whisper what you want her to do to you in a meeting. Send a nude when she's out. Show up at dinner with a gift or 9. Surprises are her weakness

Muriel

I don't think he would ever think of marriage unless you brought it up. Like if your waiting for him to propose on his own? Hope yall live forever bc he is just content just having you with him. Even if you have kids, he'd be so happy. If you want to get married, honestly, I think he'd be proposed to instead.

Put pants on the chickens and wait. When they run he will die of laughter

He clenches his teeth. Ptsd and stress still gets to him. He gets random jaw pains on particularly bad nights. He tries to bite the inside on his cheeks but he really needs some guided meditation

If you get him into condiments, he will use so much, its ungodly. I think he'd like mustard the most

It gets boring in the woods. And he rarely says no to you. Please try out different funky hairstyles on him. Itll be a huge laugh and we love a laughing muriel in this household

Everyday, he leaves you a note when he wakes up before you. Mostly saying he's out doing chores and he loves you. Sometimes it will be so much more emotional. He will blush of he finds out you saved all of them

Portia

Wears workout pants and stained oversized t shirts to bed. And honestly, same

Messy artist. She does her job and everything else in the house so cleanly, but he will get paint in her hair or a rhinestone behind her elbow when it comes to crafts.

Thrift shop queen.

She has an eclectic arrangement of home decor in the cottage. Theres no theme but cute things

She loves setting up scavenger hunts for you and jules. You each take turn being the organizer. Whoever of the two (or three if hes with someone) hunting finishes last, pays for dinner.

You'd think she'd be god tier gift wrapper, but no. You see. She likes getting drunk with jules and having a contest on whos the best gift wrapper drunk. Their both horrible but we don't say anything or risk the spoon

Lucio

Acts like a princess, but has a super high chill to horror or action stuff. During a jump scare, he will gasp, cuss, and laugh at himself

While redeeming himself, he will battle his demons until the day he does for real. Anger and a thirst for power will always be a think with him so I see him taking up martial arts to release some of it

Hes dumb in the way he doesn't think through everything. He is wicked smart in the way that he can assess a room or person almost immediately. Being a mercenary really helped with deduction and quick assessing for survival

Which is why I dont think there would be as many fights as one might think. He does dumb shit. But immediately sees in you where he fucked up and tries to fix it.

He will 10000% help you dress up camio, Mercedes, and melchior. They will hate you both until its time to be fed

Favorite food is fair food. Get him the meaty cheese fries and watch him melt faster than the cheese did

[ladyhallen]

How about the 10th gen meeting Harriet for your Collenello's no good very bad day seies(?)

Everyone in Vongola knew that Reborn was married.

Even if he had no wedding ring, he occasionally had lunch boxes from his wife, which he proudly carried, and sometimes, he requested leave for certain dates, which he vowed was actually an anniversary of some sort.

This could only be the actions of a very committed man.

Strangely, barring the Arcobaleno who had crashed the wedding, no one had actually seen Reborn’s wife.

They knew she was gorgeous, because Reborn had a certain type. They just had no idea what kind of person she was.

When a beautiful redhead knocked on the Iron Fort’s gates with a very familiar lunch box, the gossip reached crazy levels.

“Is that - !”

“Oh my god,”

“She just petted his hair.”

“Fuck the petting, she just pulled at his side-burns!”

The staff and various Mafioso of different departments crowded around the windows and just. Stared.

“Is she going in?” someone asked what everyone was thinking.

Yes, she was.

.

.

Tsuna had mastered the discreet art of staring at someone while drinking tea and making it seem like you were actually not staring at that person, no, just staring at the flowers.

It was a blessing because he couldn’t actually stop staring.

She was gorgeous and feminine and…so gosh darn civilian that Tsuna was having a headache picturing her with his scary and very murderous mafia tutor.

“I love your castle!” she was saying with great enthusiasm. She was staring around avidly, somehow not noticing the sharp candelabra’s that could be used as a second-hand weapon and the complete absence of rugs.

Ah, rugs, so hard to clean of blood.

“Thank you,” he said. “It was an inheritance.”

“Ren never talks about work,” she said, making Tsuna breathe long and deep to avoid beverage failure. Like it was normal to say Reborn’s name and not get skewered and punctured multiple times. She continued, “I got curious. He also left his lunchbox so I had an excuse!”

Tsuna looked to Reborn for help.

Reborn looked sappily, disgustingly in love.

Tsuna had a headache. He had never seen his sadistic hitman tutor act like that and the dichotomy was driving him insane.

No wonder Colonnello got twitchy every time someone brought up Reborn’s wife.

.

.

Lambo met her next, and he decided, then and there, that he liked her.

“Oh, what lovely hair!” she declared, staring at his afro.

Lambo looked at her, at the absolute chaos in her eyes and smiled.

“I like your hair too, sorella!” he said. “You look like a mermaid!”

She smiled, and Lambo absolutely loved her. “I’m just magical.”

.

.

Hayato and Takeshi, returning from a mission, met her just as she was exiting the mansion arm in arm with Reborn.

Takeshi’s instincts were going crazy, looking at the delicate, gorgeous woman in a sundress. He had absolutely no idea why, but he knew to trust those instincts.

“Yamamoto, Gokudera,” Reborn greeted. “My wife, Harriet.”

She gave them a sunny smile that had all of Takeshi’s hair standing on end. “Pleasure to meet you!”

Hayato looked, somehow, terrified. “Nice to meet you too,” he said in a strangled tone.

On they went, and Takeshi had to ask, “Was she very scary?”

Hayato snorted. “Baseball freak, think about it. My sister is still in love with Reborn. If that woman survived her, there’s no way in hell that she’s a civilian.”

“Maah!” Takeshi laughed, accepting the logic. Because Bianchi was hardcore for Reborn. “No wonder my hand itched. I thought she just smiled with too many teeth!”

Hayato started scolding him but both of them hurried to Tsuna, eager to see their Sky again.

.

.

Ryohei encountered them in the garden while he was doing his exercises.

Reborn introduced them, and Harriet smiled innocently.

“If you are Reborn-san’s wife, then you must also be an extreme person!” he decided. “Pleasure to meet you, Harriet-san!”

Harriet giggled and shook his hand. “Oh, you’re just too sweet!” she pronounced. “Ren, you’re kids are so nice.”

.

.

Unfortunately, Mukuro, Chrome and Kyoya were fighting in the sandpit by the garden.

“You can probably beat them if you prepared,” Reborn mused.

Harriet looked at them critically, smile nowhere on her face. “Yes. Runic traps…hmm.”

Hibari stopped. “Fight me,” he said.

Harriet whipped out her wand and smiled toothily, folding her scarf and cardigan neatly. “Honey, can you hold this for a moment? I don’t want them dirty.”

“Of course,” he said obligingly.

The proceeding events expanded the sand pit and had all three Guardians stare at Harriet in admiration.

“Why on earth did she marry you?” Mukuro muttered, nowhere near Reborn’s hearing - he wasn’t suicidal.

“Ahh, Harriet-san is so cool,” Chrome said dazedly.

Hibari said nothing, but his scowl was dark.

.

.

“Ah, your kids are so energetic,” she told him. “It was nice to visit your workplace today.”

Reborn held back a laugh through sheer force of will. “You terrified everyone today, just so you know.”

Harriet looked surprised. “But I was being nice!” she protested. “I didn’t even prank anyone!”

He finally let out a laugh. “You don’t know your own chaos, my love.”

[razorblade180]

Frightful Weather

In one of the many caves in Dragon’s Spine, Aether, Amber, Lisa, and Jean set up a temporary camp to survive the blizzard. Aether had just came back with fresh fire wood and can Amber shivering as she tries to warm herself in a blanket, as well as Lisa and Jean already taking a brief nap together. Knowing Lisa, she probably talked Jean into by telling her survival rate would go up. Knowing Jean, she believed it instantly but also knows Lisa loves warmth more than books. He grabs a mug filled with coco he brought and sits down. It’s not long before Amber opens the blanket up and traps him inside.

Aether:Thanks.

Amber:Thank you, Mr. Body Heat. This is why I never travel this far up the mountain.

Aether:Don’t Outriders explore everywhere?

Amber:Within their capacity. A place like this was well beyond my reach. Just staying near the foot of mountain felt like death. To think I’m actually exploring it is a little unbelievable.

Aether:Guess that means you’re stronger than ever!

Amber:Pfft, maybe. I still have a ways to go, but thanks for all of your support. The shields help a lot.

Aether:The real is Xinyan going ahead of us and making all of these warm areas for us. She’s thriving up here. More than anyone else on the other teams. All in all, I think we’re gonna make oth through this by Christmas.

Amber:....What?

Aether:Christmas. You know, the holiday?

Amber:Ummm we don’t have here.

Aether:....

Aether:WHAT!? BUT IT’S CHRISTMAS!!

Amber:*shrugs* Sorry, no idea what that means. It sounds interesting though.

Aether:Because it is! It gets really cold and snows like this in some places. Family visits from around the world to see each other and exchange gifts. There’s delicious ham and other foods, special songs, coco, everyone stays up really late, and sombody is always drinking too much eggnog! That’s what makes a Merry Christmas!

Amber:Woah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this pumped hehehe.

Aether:Christmas is the best. One time Lumine- huh.......hmmm.

Amber:Aether? What’s wrong.

Aether:Nothing, I just...this will be my first Christmas without my sister. I wonder what she’s thinking? Is it snowing where she is? Is she safe....

The cold wind blew through the cave and flicked the fire, but Amber didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes we fixated on this boy’s sad eyes that held nothing but joy seconds ago. She took hold of his hand, prompting him to lean on her.

Amber:I bet wherever she is, Lumine is wishing you are just as safe. You’re supposed to get gifts, right? Maybe you should buy her one back in town. That way you can give it to her when you meet again. I...I uh do that with my grandpa’s birthday. At this rate, he’s gonna drown in presents when I find him.

Aether:You, don’t get discouraged?

Amber:Well maybe a little, but I haven’t lost hope yet. When you truly want something, you’ll find a way to get it. Anything is possible. I’m on Dragon’s Spine! Last week I challenged a wolf god and won! I think I can find a lovable old geezer. Just like you can find your sister. Aether, tamer of dragons.

Aether:...Hehe, I think I like the title Aether, survivor of Amber’s steak, a little better. It’s more treacherous.

Amber:Hey! I’m trying to cheer you-

Her words were interrupted by Aether’s lips. Darn him! It was the best way to get her to stop talking. Amber blushed lightly and returned the affection in equal force. Several seconds past before finally breaking the kiss. Aether leaned on her again, tired.

Aether:Thank you, for everything. I’m glad we met so soon. You’re just the gift that keeps on giving.

Amber:Y-Yeah. You too. *flustered* I’m happy to have you too.

Aether:Can I rest like this for awhile. I’m...I’m...zzzz

Amber:*smiles* Merry Christmas Aether.

The fire continues to warm them as harsh snow falls outside. Amber dozes off as well, blissfully unaware with Aether that in a not too distant land, a girl watches the snow fall for the millionth time; experiencing another Christmas too lonesome to count and a single dusty gift that has remains unwrapped through the ages.