#but SLIGHTLY less goofy in tone and also longer

[silverview]

happy halloween! 👻

[feyclowns]

a brief look at pixie biology

goofy guys. i like these ones. sillies.

most pixies are very short and stocky, with square builds. they're the smallest of the seelie

body hair is infrequent, near non-existent

males are ever-so slightly larger than females on average, though it hardly matters

pixies function very similar to fairies, they have near identical anatomies and also get inebriated from sugar

primarily eat fantastical beasts along with magic supplements

pixies grow up a little faster due to less time needed maturing their core systems. takes them about 1300 years.

pixies take very few genes from their non-pixie parent- a hint of eye color here, a darker skin color there..

despite their funky core systems, pixies, once given the magic-using tools they need, are just as adept with magic as fairies

they all speak with the same flat tone, but tend to have difficulty masking their expressions

they have an inborn talent for numbers and repetitive behaviors- they flourish in a group where everyone has a set role that they do over and over again.

each pixie is given a set role after their rearing period has ended. some pixies show the rare ambition to climb some ranks but most are generally comfortable with where Head Pixie puts them.

all fairy-based seelie buzz their wings but pixies are especially guilty of buzzing when agitated

pixies used to be quite rare, with small mixed families, usually employed by fairy companies to deal with paperwork and other tasks- librarians, attorneys, secretaries, etc

honorable mention: the curious case of Head Pixie

so many people cannot stand this guy.

this guy is weird. the council does not like weird. he is like, biologically, the biggest outlier for the pixie species ever

side note: my HP doesn't look as old as canon due to the way my fairies age (and pixies generally live longer anyway since they consume magic rather than produce it) but he is still, in fact, very old

fey dad, pixie mom. HP's pixie status was debated hotly for a long time due to the main factor that he had a functional central core- in fact, it was too functional; HP produces too much magic for his system to handle on a regular basis.

HP handles this in two ways; lots of offspring and lots of using his magic to power things. man, building a business empire is easy.

he's larger than the average pixie as well, by 7 inches (this makes him look huge)

all of HP's kids are normal pixies (barring the handful of fairy children)

HP is old. really old. he's about to hit a million. he's older than jorgen's nana. he's showing his age but he looks pretty good. his fey lineage and magic overproduction are the primary reasons for this, but he just likes to say he lives off black coffee and pure spite. he is staying around forever, baby.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 28 October 1954

Of our two songs, this week, one is pretty familiar. In fact, it's almost like I've just heard it very recently, maybe written up a blog post about it... The other, thankfully, is an unknown.

This Ole House - Billie Anthony (peaked at No. 4)

Yes, this is just a cover of Rosemary Clooney's one, complete with the same comically deep bass, and many of the same vocal stylings. It's not bad, but it's definitely not throwing anything massively new at us.

That said, the introduction does feel different, if only because it changes the instrumentation. It's just as fast here, but we've lost the saxophone, and the result is a "doo-whack-a-doo" kind of vibe that's just as goofy as the original, but much thinner and sparser, texturally. It doesn't quite hit the same vibe where you feel that too many things are going on, and changing the jumbled piano of the original for a banjo robs it of something, even as it boosts the folksy feeling.

Surprisingly, the deep voice is also less deep and rich, and Billie's voice, while good, is clearly just imitating most of Rosemary's little quirks and intonations. The result is odd - a song that's trying for American folksiness, but Billie is quite audibly not American. She's not the most Glaswegian Glaswegian ever to sing, but once you know she's Scottish you can definitely hear it. There's a charm to it, but it's a different charm to Rosemary's version.

There are also some lyrical changes that subtly change the tone of the song. Instead of asserting that our main character won't need his house, as a fact, the bass voice now asks "Ain't you gonna need this house no longer?" which makes it seem less certain. We also get less overtly religious references. Instead of fixing to "meet the saints", we learn that "he's a-gettin' ready to fade away" which I at least think sounds a lot less optimistic. Likewise, instead of a reassuringly cheeky angel peeking in, confirming to the old man that it's time, we instead hear how "he seeks a new tomorrow through a golden window pane". Which again sounds less certain to me, or certainly more ambiguous. Plus, we don't know if he finds what he's looking for! They're small changes, but I don't care for them.

So yes, I still enjoy this song, but it's not a patch on the original. And apparently the record-buying public agreed. Number 4 is still nothing to be sniffed at, but it's Rosemary at No 1 for a good reason.

There Must Be a Reason - Frankie Laine (9)

This feels like something from a film, at least in the intro. It's all brassy and slightly jazzy, building to a cinematic sort of swell before settling into something slower and smoochier. It's nice enough.

And then we get the opening lyrics, which are frankly a little inane: "There must be a reason for raindrops to fall, / There must be a reason why mountains are tall, / And why are there stars in the sky? / There must be a reason why." The stuff included just feels so obvious and cliché, and it only gets worse as the list gets longer, as Frankie asks about the reasoning behind rivers, trees, flowers, birds with wings, seasons changing, dawn breaking, etc.

At this point, I remember that Frankie's had some religious songs, and I start to fear that this is a religious song. And then, the other shoe drops: "It was intended that way". So this is going to be that kind of song. As a person who firmly believes that Frankie is onto something here - and yes, your personal mileage may vary - even I don't find this particularly compelling as a thing to sing a schlamzy pop song about. It's a bit "All things bright and beautiful", and more than a little naff.

And then, almost worse, we take a distinct turn away from the religious, towards the personal and the romantic, as Frankie sings that "There must be a reason for falling in love / It must have been planned in heaven above". He wonders how they are so in love but states that - you guessed it - "there must be a reason why". Ugh. You're better than this sap, Frankie.

I don't know why this vaguely religious start and then the turn to the secular rubs me up the wrong way so much. Maybe it's just because it's a hideously overblown way to describe a romantic relationship. Or maybe I just don't like the way that Frankie sells his more sentimental songs. Give me a good Western theme any day!

He does have the range, though. I wonder if he's our most decorated chart veteran - certainly he's the one who's got there with the most varied assortment of songs, from romantic ones, to Western themes, to chipper duets, to religious songs. It's definitely some sort of achievement.

I didn't love either of this week's songs, not going to lie. I didn't hate either of them, though - they were just unfortunate in coming along in the same week. One suffers from being a slightly inferior cover of a song whose original I really did enjoy, and only just heard recently, and the other suffers some more fundamental issues because it can't decide if it's a love song or a Sunday school talk. Still, if I have to pick...

Favourite song of the bunch: This Ole House

[mandokarla-mavrok]

You might not be a nerd but pretty sure I am😂

This is just an explanation that I’ve put together from various Youtube and Tiktok Avatar explanation videos and various Avatar information pages like Wiki…if any of this is wrong or at some point disproven as canon 🤷 idk what to tell you, but I do think this explanation makes sense sooo…

Anyways I’m pretty sure it’s canon that prolonged UV exposure causes some Na’vi’s skin to darken to a purplish hue, similar to how some humans tan. And while I can see this working for clans like the Omaticaya, I think clans who evolved on the shores of Pandora’s oceans like the Metkayina would turn a slightly darker shade of Turquoise or Teal and their markings would become more prominent. I don’t think Reef Na’vi like the Metkayina would tan purple like the Omaticaya would because it wouldn’t be beneficial in their seaside lifestyle. Ocean based Na’vi clans have lighter cyan, turquoise and teal skin tones and more wave like markings to blend in better with their environments on the reefs. You know how light ripples through water? The shapes that makes? Metkayina markings take on similar patterns for camouflage in the ocean to confuse and deter larger predators like the Akula and to remain unseen by prey for better hunting opportunities. Tanning purple like that would not be good for hiding and hunting in the water.

While on the other hand, Omaticaya Na’vi have adapted for hunting in the forests at night. It’s why their skin tends to be darker blue tones and their markings (stripes) tend to be much more angular and sharp, for camouflaging among the tree branches, so they can move through the dark forests with less risk of being detected by their prey. Na’vi like the Omaticaya spend most of their lives in the shade of their trees so they are rarely exposed to the suns long enough for them to Ta’lengom (according to the Na’vi dictionary…Ta’leng means Skin and Om means violet, purple, magenta in Na’vi…imma use it as a similar word to Tan)

With the reactions from Ao’nung and his friends over the Sully Squads differences (like their syndactyl-less hands and feet, thin tails, arms and delicate diaphragms) I don’t think the Metkayina have enough interactions with other Na’vi clans outside of the reefs to be completely aware of their differences. Na’vi from the mainlands who do visit the reef clans to trade usually don’t stay long enough to get the sun exposure to Ta’lengom dark enough for the Metkayina to really notice. This could totally give way for many fanfics with Metkayina/Omaticaya pairings either for sweet fluff, dirty smut or delicious angst🥰

I can totally see Ao’nung being secretly mesmerized by the purple glow (I’m always hearing about girls having “glowing tans” idk) Lo’ak’s skin takes on the longer he’s in the sun but also being the skxawng Ao’nung is, he would totally tease Lo’ak mercilessly for being so much easier to spot in the water now until one day he slips🤭

“How are you going to hunt like that? I could see you from 50 meters off, Forest Freak, a Slärpayoang (blind type cavefish) could probably see your pretty purple glow from the murkiest parts of deepest trenches ALL THE WAY TO THE SURFACE!!!” Ao’nung doesn’t realize that he complimented Lo’ak’s Ta’lengom and continues ranting meanwhile Lo’ak is stuck on the fact that Ao’nung thinks his purple glow is pretty🤭 Ao’nung turns back to see Lo’ak has a cute daze expression on his face and definitely isn’t paying attention to anything Ao’nung has just said. Ao’nung throws his hands up in the air and in exasperation snarks “You haven’t been listening to a thing I’ve said!!!” While Lo’ak just blinks, gets a goofy grin on his face and says “You think my purple glow is pretty?”🥹 now it’s Ao’nung’s turn to blush a pretty light lavender color all over his face, down his neck to his shoulders and chest.🤭

Idk about the feet thing because walking on sand, seaglass and driftwood can be just as rough on the feet as walking across tree bark and such.

As for their tail strength, the metkayina have larger stronger tails for propelling themselves through the oceans tides while the Omaticaya use their for balancing in the tree tops like cats do—theoretically they might be able to use their tails like an extra appendage to grab things and hold onto branches and what not but idk if that’s confirmed or not. On average I’d bet Na’vi who’ve evolved on pandora’s oceans probably have stronger tails but that’s just my opinion.

Hope that helped. And I REALLY hope some of this inspires people to write more fanfiction😂👀

D’you think that the skin color of the Sully’s will be affected by the sun they receive while with the Metkayina people? Like will it get lighter, darker or stay the same? Obviously the Metkayina people have a light shade of blue skin (so much its like a light turquoise), but is that from sun other things? Did the Metkayina and Omaticaya people evolve differently so much because of their surroundings?

DO METKAYINA PEOPLE HAVE LESS ROUGH FEET THAN OMATICAYA BECAUSE THEY DO LESS RUNNING

Which race of na’vi has a stronger tail: like a arm wrestling fight but its tails- who wins?

[saintlike78]

Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.

(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)

By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)

Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.

The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.

Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.

Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.

James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.

Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.

As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.

“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.

Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.

“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.

Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.

“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.

You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.

Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.

When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.

“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.

“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.

“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.

“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”

“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.

You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.

“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.

“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.

“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.

Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”

With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.

You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.

“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.

A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.

James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.

Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.

Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.

Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.

Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.

Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.

You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.

You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”

“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.

“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.

You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”

“We love you too, pretty baby.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,

If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!

[amberswords]

Joseph for NSFW alphabet? Either P2 or P3 🥺✨

🗡 Thank you Melk!! I’m here bringing food.

NSFW ALPHABET: JOSEPH JOESTAR

MINORS DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Admittedly gets a little lazy with it, especially outside of any scenes that he deems important enough. He might forget to wash up for the night, or bring water— but he’s big on cuddling and getting clingy afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He knows he is toned, and I think he knows his rack is quite exemplary, so he’s quite happy to show off whenever he can— his abs as well, though he does gain a few pounds by season three, it just makes for an even hotter picture. For his partner, though: ass and thighs. He is extremely touchy, and is constantly groping whenever he can.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Thiiiiick, and quite a good amount. The older he gets the more he likes creampies. You are in for a ride with him if there’s no pregnancy risk (or if you don’t mind that outcome at all /wink)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ooooh. This guy has stolen underwear before and jacked off into it. Did feel shame about it at 19, but if you date him when he’s older, he does it and later teases you about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

After over 40 years of experience, he is quite knowledgeable on how to make his partner feel good. He takes a lot of pride on it, too, and will do his best to always get you to come before him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press, through and through. Also reverse cowgirl, so he can slap your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He has always been goofy, but he gets a bit more serious when he’s older (as serious as Joseph can be, so, not too much though)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Always has been hairy, though he dabbled on fully shaving for a couple instances in his life, in the end, he prefers to trim a bit and move on. Dark, curly hair that takes a bit longer to turn grey than all his other hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not naturally rough, but always enthusiastic. Likes sweet talking and biting. He will be rough if you ask him too, but normally falls more in the deep, romantic side of things.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Could go up to getting off twice a day when he was younger, and it only calms down slightly with the years. Sometimes once a day, currently, but can go longer without it than he could before.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh he absolutely has a daddy kink. Loves being called it, and loves spoiling the person he’s dating, to show that he has so much money and that he’s capable of providing.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Usually goes for the bed for comfort, but really likes to have a second round in the bathroom. Also the kitchen, usually over the aisle.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Knowing that their partner is turned on usually gets him going pretty quick, even more when they are obviously needy. He also tends to be more in the mood after working out.

N= No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would try most things once, but i don’t think he’d like knife play (giving nor receiving), or the whole master/slave kink. It rubs him the wrong way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Adores getting head, and while he’s very good at giving it, too, you usually have to prompt him a little most times.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Deep and fast. Loves slow sex for the most romantic of occasions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Likes them a little less when he’s older, because he enjoys taking his time (and taking a nap afterwards), but if you want it… he probably won't say no.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh, you know him. He might take a little insistence, but he will experiment. Especially if you dare him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As a teen, he lasted a little less, but had a short refractory span. It’s the opposite when he gets older.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Not many! Only a pair of cute handcuffs that he used once, and probably a couple of dildos. He prefers to make do with what he has.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, a lot. It gets worse with age, because he has more experience and confidence, and it is just more entertaining for him to have you needy for him after a while of teasing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Was louder when he was younger, but as he gets older his voice gets deeper and gruffier, and he likes groaning by your ear as he is pounding you, whispering filthy things always accompanied by the sweetest petnames.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is into you talking about fucking other people. Cuckold.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is so big ;_; long and thick, hairy. He is flushed pink, and has a lot of pale moles all over his length when he’s older. He also grows a tummy, and the white fuzz goes all over it alongside his chest. Best dad bod.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It gets calmer with the years, but you’ll have him feeling like a teenager again when you guys get together for the first time. Biggest honeymoon phase.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Stupidly quick, unless he really has set his mind on taking care of you in the aftermath.

[plus-size-reader]

Sharing

Billy Loomis x Plus size!reader and Stu Macher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1780 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Billy and Stu fighting over you

——————————————————————————————————

The two of them couldn't have been more different.

As a general rule, Billy and Stu had hardly anything in common but that didn’t change the fact that there had never been two closer best friends. They did everything together, and shared quite a bit. 

Though, it wasn’t until you that they realized just how far that went.

You sat beside Stu in algebra, and had gone to school with both Stu and Billy for as long as you could remember. However, you had never really spent much time with them until you agreed to start helping the former with his homework. 

At first, it wasn’t much of a problem for anyone but the more Stu informed his friend that he couldn’t hang out because he was supposed to see you again, the more Billy grew resentful. 

The problem was that he wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of, you or Stu.  

On one hand, his best friend in the entire world was getting to spend all his time with you, but you were also getting to spend a fair amount of your own time with him. 

From where Billy was sitting, the biggest problem was that he wasn’t involved in any step of that process. So, he decided to fix the problem himself. 

...And that was how you ended up between them in the first place. 

You had showed up to the Macher family home after school like you always did on Tuesday evenings with your school bag in hand. However, when the front door opened, the blonde you’d grown used to seeing wasn’t standing there. 

Instead, it was Billy. 

You were shocked, understandably so, especially seeing as you didn't know he would be here but it wasn’t all bad. You didn’t know Billy all that well but Stu talked about him all the time. 

“Hey, I’m supposed to be meeting Stu. Is he here?” you asked, shifting your weight between your two feet as you stood there, under the male’s focused gaze.

You had never realized it before, but Billy was incredibly intimidating, almost as much as he was handsome and you weren’t dealing with the uninterrupted eye contact. 

It was clear that he had something on his mind, something he wanted to say but he chose to ignore it for now. There would be more than enough time to talk about what was on his mind.

Instead, he nodded. “He’s in the kitchen, follow me” he suggested, though there was a demanding tone in his voice. You didn’t even bother to tell him you’d been in the house before. 

All you could do was hold your school bag close to your frame as you entered the house. 

It was empty, like it normally was, as Stu’s parents usually weren't home. They were gone a lot on business trips, they were lawyers you thought, but you couldn’t remember. 

Of all the things you and Stu talked about during your study sessions, his parents weren’t really on the roster. 

“She’s here!” Billy called, glancing over his shoulder to look at you, a small smirk on his lips as he addressed his best friend. You didn’t really know why Billy was here, but they weren’t going to keep you in suspense for much longer. 

See, Billy had a plan. 

In general, the two of them were never apart. Everywhere Billy went, Stu followed. Knowing that, it was easy to assume that he would be jealous of the amount of the blonde’s time you were taking up. 

However, Billy had made a different call. Being jealous of you wasn’t going to do much except drive you away and while that would have been okay, it wasn’t ideal. 

If he went about it the right way, there was a chance he’d get to keep you both. 

It wasn’t a done deal, but if the past was any indication, Billy was pretty good at getting what he wanted. After all, it wasn’t exactly easy to tell him no. 

“Hey! You made it” Stu greeted, wrapping you up in a small hug right after he handed the other male an unopened beer. You had no idea what you were walking into, but you just nodded, accepting the hug. 

It wasn’t like you felt unsafe here, just uneasy.

You didn’t have much experience with Billy at all, but if nothing else, you were sure that Stu wouldn’t let anything sketchy go down. At least, you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“Yeah, I’m still not super sure on that last turn” you shrugged, decidedly throwing yourself into smalltalk instead of making direct eye contact with either of them. 

Had you looked up, you would have had to come to terms with the predatory gaze in Billy’s eyes as he looked you over. You had placed yourself closer to Stu over by the sink, which wasn’t surprising. 

It was no secret that you were more comfortable with him, but Billy was interested in you too and he had an idea. 

“So, what are you two going to work on tonight?” he hummed, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he looked between you, though you could still see how tight his jaw was while he waited for an answer.

Math.

That should have been the answer, but for some reason with Billy staring deep into your eyes, and Stu standing so close, your lips couldn’t form the words. 

It was strange.

You had never felt this was before, but there was just something about the two of them. Billy was magnetic, and Stu seemed to feed off of his energy which brought a new side out of him that you’d never seen. 

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just couldn’t look away from Billy’s sterling gaze. Instead, you tried to clear your throat, taking a sip of the glass of water Stu had gotten you when you informed him you didn’t want to drink.

After all, you had come here to do a job but it seemed like there was no job to be done here tonight. 

“Y/N? You alright?” Stu hummed, watching the way your eyes kept tabs on Billy out of the corner of your eye. You were clearly feeling something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The blonde was a bit worried at first, mostly because he didn’t know how Billy would react. He knew that the other male could be protective, so he’d either get violent with you, or leave in a huff. 

From where he was, it could go either way.

However, when Stu looked at Billy for some kind of clue as to what he was thinking, he only winked. “Yeah Y/N, you feeling okay?” he grinned, setting his beer down on the island. 

You hardly had a second to think before he was standing in front of you, with hardly any space between your two bodies. Without even meaning to, you practically gasped.

You couldn’t help yourself. 

No matter what you thought you were feeling, or where Stu thought this might go at first, there was no misreading what he had in mind. You didn’t get hit on a ton, but you weren’t blind.

It would have been impossible to misunderstand his intentions. 

“I’m okay, I think” you tried, doing your best to maintain your composure, even though the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

In fact, if you hadn’t been standing here yourself, there was no way you could be sure that it was really happening. 

That response was more than Billy had been expecting, but nonetheless, it did serve to amuse him. You were hilarious, in the most innocent of ways. 

“We don’t scare you, do we Y/N?” He wondered, gingerly letting his fingers gloss over the skin of your jaw. 

There was something so predatory and strange about the way he addressed you, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. If nothing else, it just made you think about him in a way that you never had.

“No, of course not” you allowed, they didn’t. However, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his burning gaze, so you instead chose to look at Stu over your shoulder. 

Even with his own grin, the blonde could never be as intimidating as Billy was. 

“Good, because we had a bit of a chat before you got here” Billy started, leaning back against the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Evidently, they had been talking about you quite a bit before you got there, but you had no inkling of that until he spoke again. “See, Stu here’s got quite the crush on you” he smiled, gesturing to the other male at his side. 

You had no idea where this was going before but at least there was a bit of context now. Though, you couldn’t say you were any less confused than you’d been before. 

The words he’d stated weren’t exactly surprising to you, as you’d gathered that much in all the time you’d been spending time together. However, that didn’t stop you from looking at him as well. 

It just seemed like the only thing to do right now, and it was still better than having to look Billy in the eye. 

“Now, I had to decide what to do about that, and I think we’ve come up with a solution” he allowed, smirking at you as he spoke. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head. 

It hadn’t clicked yet. 

“A solution?” You repeated, trying to keep up. However, before you could get an answer from the male, Stu stepped in to answer you instead. 

“Billy thinks we should share” he grinned, unsure of how this would go down. When Billy first brought it up, he was sure that you’d say no but seeing you now, he wasn’t sure. 

It would be ideal. 

If you were in a mutual relationship, Billy would have no reason to get so jealous over you, and he could be honest about how he felt for you to begin with. 

Really, Stu couldn’t have come up with a better solution for the problem they’d been having. 

“Share?” you repeated again. You were pretty sure that you knew where this was going but you just needed to have them clarify it for you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be doing today, but it could work.

You liked Stu and you were well aware of the connection the two males shared. What they were proposing could work. 

“Yeah, what do you say gorgeous?” Stu grinned, his goofy charm bringing a smile to your face. 

How could you say no to that?

[courageous-she]

Needing You- Charlie Gillespie

Charlie x female reader

Summary: You’re having a rough day and go to your best friend for some comfort

Word Count: 3037

Author’s Note: I haven’t really written in a while but became a SIMP for this boy after watching JATP. Here’s something I thought up while I should have been working at work. Also the formatting may have gotten a little wonky so sorry for that. Um anyway, hope you enjoy!

**

You: Hey, are you home? Charlie: Yeah, why, what’s up? You: Can we hang out? I don’t really want to be alone rn Charlie: Sure thing! I can come over? You: Actually, can I come over? I don’t feel like being in my apartment rn Charlie: Of course, doors unlocked <3

You locked your phone, resting it on your chest and letting out a long sigh. Life had just been hitting too hard lately, so you texted Charlie hoping he’d be able to distract you and take your mind off of things. You simply needed some quality time with your best friend and to not think about everything going on in your life right now. Luckily, Charlie was always down to hang out and was always flexible on what the two of you would do.

You lifted your head just enough from your starfish position on your bed to glance over your outfit. You’d changed into your comfy clothes when you got home a few hours ago. These would be fine, Charlie has seen you in worse clothes, and probably in an overall worse state than this. Shrugging, you stood from your bed and grabbed your keys, making your way over to the bus stop at the end of your street. 

Quietly opening the door to Charlie and Owen’s apartment, you carefully left your shoes at the door. You looked up and noticed Owen and Jeremy sitting on the couch in the small apartment living room. “Hey, Y/N” Owen and Jeremy said at the same time, both giving a quick nod of the head. You waved back, making your way down the hallway to Charlie’s room. It wasn’t odd for you to come over to the boy’s apartment, so Owen and Jeremy didn’t question it. Owen was more used to your frequent visits than Jeremy because Owen actually lived there, but both boys knew how close you and Charlie are so it would be odd if you didn’t show up at some point during the week.

Charlie’s door was open a crack, a low light creeping out into the hallway. You pushed the door open just enough to slide your body through, and closed it when you were all the way inside. 

“Hey” Charlie said softly, sitting up slightly in his bed and closing his laptop. Instead of responding, you pulled the covers back on his bed and slid under. Charlie watched you, slightly confused, but lifted his arm for you when you began to crawl under it resting your head on his chest. His arm around you hugged you closer, while his other hand came around to rest on top of yours that was resting on his stomach. 

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” he asked, voice soft. You shook your head ‘no’ on his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” Again, you shook your head. Charlie’s chest rose up before he let out a long sigh. It wasn’t often you got like this, but when you did it always broke Charlie a little inside. “What can I do to help?” “Is it okay if we just lay here for a while?” you finally said.

“Yeah, ‘course it is. Want me to put on a movie for background noise or somethin’?” Charlie asked, leaning over slightly to grab his tv remote. You simply nodded a ‘yes’ against his chest, knowing he would just choose a movie for the two of you. 

Charlie ended up choosing “Onward”, a Disney movie was bound to put a smile on your face, he thought. The two of you silently watched the movie, staying in relatively the same position. As the movie was coming to a close, tears began to make their way down your face, landing on Charlie’s shirt. He looked down when he began to feel the wet spot on his chest. Moving so he could see your face better, Charlie smirked at your current state.

“Are you crying?” Charlie asked, the goofy smirk not leaving his face. You lifted your head from his chest, glancing between his smirking expression and the puddle on his chest. 

“What? He never got to meet his dad! After all that!!” you said, pouting out your bottom lip so you didn’t start sobbing. Charlie chuckled before sitting back and pulling you back into him.

“Haven’t you seen this before? You knew this was coming” he replied while turning his attention back to the screen.

“Just because I’ve seen it already doesn’t make it any less sad, Char.” But he could tell by the tone in your voice that you weren’t talking about the movie anymore. He grabbed the remote, stopping the end credits. You started to sit up, wiping the remnants of tears from your face.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked, voice soft and understanding. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on your knees facing your friend sitting next to you.

“Everything is just so overwhelming right now. It’s like nothing can go my way and just keeps piling on top of me. I feel like I’m drowning and I’m so over it.” There was a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment “I hate feeling like this” you whispered. Charlie put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey, hey, look at me” he said. Your eyes remained fixed on a random spot of his bed. “Y/N, please” he whispered. You shifted your gaze so that your eyes met his. “I know that things might be really tough right now, but I know you, and I know how hard you work, and I know that you will get through this. You have the weekend to forget about things and relax for a bit too, I’m here to get your mind off of the stress.”

You smiled at his reassuring words; he always knew what to say. You moved so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Char, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know, probably die or something” he said casually. You punched his shoulder jokingly and laughing at the boy next to you. “You hungry? We can order some food” 

“I didn’t bring my wallet with me” you said, remembering that you’d only grabbed your keys on your way out. 

“Don’t worry about that, it was on me anyway.” Charlie said, scrolling through UberEats on his phone for something to order. “What are you feeling?”

“Char, I’m not letting you pay! At least let me Venmo you?” you asked, already beginning to feel guilty at the fact that he offered to pay.

“Y/N” he said, putting his phone down and turning to face you, “You’re not paying,” he placed both hands on your cheeks, squishing them slightly, “Do not. Worry. About it.”

“But Charlie,” you replied, turning your body to face him straight on, “I. Feel. Bad” you mimicked his position, placing both hands on his cheeks and squishing them. And there the two of you were, hands on each other’s cheeks, squishing them. That was until you heard Charlie’s bedroom door slowly creak open.

“Hey guys, Jer and I were just wondering if you wanted to order food?” Owen asked, walking in while looking down at his phone. When he looked up and noticed the way you two were positioned, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Uh, I’m sorry, did I walk in on something?” he asked concerned, but slightly amused. 

“Perfect timing Owen!” Charlie said, taking his hands off your cheeks and grabbing his phone again, “Y/N and I were just having the same conversation”

“I was thinking maybe Chinese?” Owen asked, resuming his scrolling on his phone. You and Charlie looked at each other, an unsure look on your face.

“Eh, not really feelin’ it” Charlie replied, going back to his phone for food inspiration.

“I was kind of craving pasta from that Italian place down the street” you said.

“Pomodoro?” Charlie asked, and immediately he looked at Owen and they gave each other the same look. “Yes!” They both said at the same time.

“I’ll go ask Jer what he wants, text me your orders.” Owen replied, leaving the room. But before Owen asked Jeremy what he wanted to eat, he explained in detail what he saw when he walked in on you and Charlie. The two boys grinned at each other, knowing how the two of you felt about the other, and knowing that neither of you would say anything to the other.

**

When the food arrived, the four of you sat in the small living room eating, joking, and watching a variety of YouTube videos. You loved hanging out with the guys, it was always entertaining and you definitely got a workout from how much you laughed. 

After everyone had finished eating, the four of you decided to put on a movie. You sat next to Charlie on the smaller couch, leaning into his side, while Owen laid out on the bigger couch and Jeremy had a spot on the floor with some pillows. 

You’re not sure how long into the movie you made it, but eventually you fell asleep on Charlie’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed you fell asleep until Owen brought it up.

“Hey man, she out?” he asked, leaning up on the couch. Jeremy looked over too, noticing your sleeping figure resting against Charlie. Charlie glanced down at you, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yeah, she must’a fell asleep” he said, eyes resting on you a little longer before turning to look at Owen. Owen smirked and looked at Jeremy, who matched his smirk before the two boys looked back at Charlie. “What’s the look for?” he asked confused.

“Oh, come on, Charlie!” Jeremy said, “You are head over heels for her!” he whisper shouted.

“And you have been since day one” Owen added. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Charlie whisper shouted back. The boys couldn’t see but underneath the blanket, Charlie was pulling you closer to him. He felt like he had to protect you despite there really being nothing to protect you from.

“Don’t avoid it Charlie, it’s so obvious” Owen retorted.

“The only question is, when are you finally going to tell her?” Jeremy asked.

As Charlie was forming his response, his felt you shift next to him. All three boys shifted their gaze to you, hoping you hadn’t heard what they were talking about. You shifted so that your face was resting in the crook of Charlie’s neck. He shivered at the feeling of your breath on his skin.

“Char?” you asked, too sleepy to open your eyes. Charlie squeezed your side to let you know he was there.

“What’s up? You alright?” he asked.

“ ‘m fine. What time is it?”

“Uh, it’s about 12:30” 

“Shit!” you said, quickly sitting up from your comfortable position and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, “The last bus leaves in 30 minutes, I gotta go!” You started to stand up from the couch, but Charlie grabbed your hips, sitting you back down on the couch.

“Chill, Y/N! I’m not letting you get on a bus in the middle of the night! You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the couch tonight” Charlie said, trying to calm you down. Jeremy coughed from the other side of the room, giving Charlie a look. Jeremy was crashing on the couch considering that he didn’t actually live there and had planned to spend the night. Charlie shot back a ‘not now’ look, returning his focus on you.

“I can’t take your bed. I’ll take the couch” you said, not wanting to put your friend out any more than you had tonight.

“Well, actually, I-I’m supposed to be sleeping on the couch” Jeremy finally spoke up. Charlie shot him a look, causing Jeremy to shrug and shy back out of the conversation.

“Then I’ll take the floor, but I’m not taking your bed” You said, bundling the blanket that was piled next to you. 

“Y/N, you are not sleeping on the damn floor. Either you sleep in my bed or we’re both sleeping on the floor. End of story” Charlie said, a little more stern this time.

“Well with that logic, why don’t we both just sleep in the bed?” you asked, shrugging. Charlie’s eyes went wide. Owen and Jeremy’s heads quickly turned their attention to you, smirks threatening to appear on their faces. 

“I-I mean, if-if you’re cool with that, yeah we could do that” Charlie stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected you to offer to share a bed with him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass this opportunity up.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t cool with it, but now that we’ve settled that, I’m tired. Goodnight boys!” you said, standing up and waving.

“ ‘night!” Owen and Jeremy replied, waving as you made your way back to Charlie’s room. What you didn’t see was the two boys silently cheering Charlie on as he slowly stood and made his way to his room. 

You were already tucked away when he made it, closing the door softly behind him. He made his way through the dark and found his way to bed. He slipped in next to you, laying awkwardly on his back, not exactly knowing how to sleep next to you. He turned his head to look at you. Your back was facing him, breathing slow. He figured that you’d already fallen asleep given how tired you were, so he got comfortable and eventually fell asleep.

**

Charlie woke with a start when he heard you start to cry out in your sleep. He couldn’t make out what you were saying but he knew that you were having a nightmare. He immediately pulled your back close to his chest, arms wrapping around you. His cheek was pressed against yours as he whispered in your ear. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, I’m here, you’re okay” You woke up, heart racing, and hands grasping Charlie’s arms that wrapped around your middle. He loosened them enough for you to turn around and face him. 

“What would I do without you?” you asked, cuddling closer into his chest, eyes closing in comfort. Charlie took a deep breath, he felt like now was the time to tell you. Tell you how he really felt, how much he wanted to never be without you.

“Y/N?” he whispered?

“Yeah, Char?”

“Can I tell you something?” He was trying to keep his nerves down, knowing you’d be able to feel him shaking.

“Of course, you can tell me anything.” You replied, shifting to lean slightly over him. He mimicked your position, the two of you leaning to face the other. “I like you. Um, like more than a friend kind of like you. And I don’t want this to ruin what we have so if you don’t feel the same way that’s- that’s cool we can forget I said this.” Charlie rambled. You were taken aback by the sudden out poor of emotional truth. Charlie was beginning to accept that you didn’t feel the same way until you made a move. You leaned in and kissed Charlie, all of the bottled-up feelings coming to the surface. 

“I like you too, Char,” you whispered, hand cupping the side of his face, “God, I’ve liked you since the day we met” you laughed, remembering your first encounter on set with Charlie. Charlie sighed from relief from next to you.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same…”

“How could I not, Charlie? I literally couldn’t survive without you.” You spoke. A smile crept its way onto Charlie’s face before he leaned in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate than the first. The two of you spent much of the rest of the night like that, moving between sleep and giggly sleepy kisses. The next morning, the two of you slept in a little later than normal, and laid in bed cuddled up watching TikToks, sneaking kisses in between. It was a kind of bliss you didn’t think you’d ever experience. Both of your heads turned when a short knock was made against the door.

“Are you guys dead in there?” Owen asked through the door. The two of you chuckled from the bed.

“We’re fine Owen!” Charlie shouted.

“Are you sure? It’s like noon-thirty and I haven’t heard anything from either of you?” Owen shouted back. You laughed at the boys, moving to get out of the bed and answer the door. Charlie pouted at the lack of you next to him. You opened the door to see a concerned looking Owen. 

“Good morning, Owen” you smiled.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, noticing Charlie’s lack of shirt and a messy bed.

“No, you didn’t. We were just getting up to grab some breakfast” you replied.

“Oh, well I was going to ask if you guys wanted some waffles? Jeremy and I just made some” he said, still looking between you and Charlie, attempting to put the pieces together on what happened when the two of you went to bed last night.

“I’d love some waffles! Let me just grab my sweatshirt and I’ll be right there!” 

Owen nodded, leaving the room. You turned to look for your sweatshirt somewhere on the floor. Feeling two arms wrap around your waist, you giggled, placing your arms over Charlie’s.

“You know you don’t have to go out there.” He said, lips hovering just over your ear.

“No, I don’t have to.” You said, “But we need to eat.”

“There’s something right here I could eat.” Charlie replied. You spun around quickly in his arms, slapping him lightly on the upper arm.

“Charlie!” You couldn’t believe how quickly he responded with that!

“What!? It’s true!” he winked at you.

“Well too bad because that is currently not on the menu. I want waffles!” you said before breaking free of his grasp, grabbing your sweatshirt and skipping out of the room to the kitchen. Charlie was left standing in his room, mouth agape, but laughing at how you handled that. What would he do without you?

[skellebonez]

Because I'm sure this is going to be inevitable, how about some angst for the Chaos Trio (Mei, Jin and Yin)? With 61 and 52

Oh I have been looking forward to Chaos Trio angst since you sent me this, anon. Despite how they act in show... I think Jin and Yin are not exactly harmless. Especially if you mess with people they start to consider family.

The Cursed AU and the Chaos Trio in it come from @winterpower98!

Warning: blood and head injuries, enemy demons limbs (not detailed).

That is not a good hiding spot./I am a really bad actor.

Things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Jin and Yin had no problem getting Mei to join them in a little bit of... let's say "competitive insurance" as it were. They had to make sure they were secured in their own little tech related ventures, and after some financial setbacks they needed extra fallback. They’d planned the whole thing out with her help, more than 2 steps and everything! She was good at that.

The problem was that someone got a lucky hit.

They would have made it out with no problems, if they all hadn't decided going on Mei's motorcycle as a group (which, now that Yin thought about it, was probably incredibly dangerous and illegal with 3 of them on it... not that they cared about legality for themselves but somehow when it came to Mei that suddenly made them concerned). But nope. 1 bike. 3 people.

One lucky shot to the rear tire.

The three of them went flying, Mei landing very impressively on her feet whole Jin and Yin bounced on a bush and thanked anyone listening that demons were sturdier than humans. They didn't thank anyone for the pieces of bike that came flying at them all, and they were certain that they heard a piece make contact with something hard, maybe the nearby light pole, but couldn't be sure.

By the time they looked up they just knew they had a group of very angry demons that were pissed they stole and then wiped their code for... something, didn't matter to the twins what it was. They just wanted their competition out of the way. For solely selfish reasons. Nothing else. Not like they wanted it to see what it was and maybe figure out a counter attack so that certain overpowered people with monkey motifs would have an easier time in the future.

Not a chance.

As they fought off the attacking demons they insisted to themselves they didn't care that much.

"That is not a good hiding spot!" Jin yelled across the battlefield as Yin ducked behind crates. "Just chuck it for now and beat em with the blunt end of something else!"

"Just give me 2 seconds, I can fix it!" Yin yelled back, trying his best to reassemble a part of his sword hilt that had broken off.

"Come on, these guys ain't so tough!" Mei laughed out, easily dodging projectiles and backsliding and slicing and dicing as she went. No one was actually killed, but they were lucky because the only reason for that was the young woman wasn't exactly out for blood. They'd be feeling every single hit well into morning though! She was doing much better than the two of them. "Grab a pipe or something! Wish I had MK's magic building power though, I'd rather not be here all-YIN!"

The younger twin looked up from where he had been crouched, eyes widening as he saw the form of a much larger demon hulking over him and ready to batter him with a club.

Things had been going well. All things considered. Then someone got a second lucky hit.

Right as Mei dove in to push the younger silver twin out of the way.

For a second the fighting stopped. There was just the sound of wood hitting hard plastic and fiberglass as the club was sliced in half by her sword and the lopped off half continued it's trajectory and slammed into Mei's head to lead to her crumbling on top of Yin. Jin stood on too of a pile of crates, watching as a line of red seeped through a crack in her visor and stained the white of her suit.

And then his entire vision was red as he lunged at the demon and sliced, sending his arm flying in the opposite direction.

The demon screamed, holding the stump that was his arm from the elbow down, backing away as quickly as he could. "W-what the hell!?"

"Mei," Yin said softly, carefully clicking the emergency release button to make her helmet digitize away. Her eyes were closed, blood dripping from a slice running along her scalp... but as far as he could tell it was from part of the helmet being cracked and cutting her. She was most likely knocked out from the impact, breathing odd but steady in her unconscious state. "You... we're going to get you to the hospital."

His tone hardened as he carefully laid her on the ground, standing tall as he grabbed his broken weapon and a nearby piece of broken steel.

"You. Are going. To pay for that," Yin said coldly, stance no longer lose and half playful as it had been the whole battle. His stood tall, eyes wide and cold and the demons surrounding them felt a chill run down their spines.

Jin stood in front of him, blood from the other demon splattered across his face and chest in a stark contrast to his orange visage.

This... this wasn't the pair of Gold and Silver Demons they had heard about before. They were known for not taking almost anything seriously, making bad deals and pacts and weird blood oaths they wasted on bizarre favors. They were known for being good at tach but not much else, most demons in the area knew vaguely of their history with the Monkey King but even that ended in failure. Their plans were half baked, goofy, and lately they'd heard they'd gotten roped in with the Monkey King's successor and renewed flame of the Six-Eared Macaque.

The two standing before them did not look like the demons they'd heard about.

Mei hadn't wanted to seriously hurt anyone. The demons heard her yelling as much on the battlefield. But now Mei was hurt.

And the twins did.

It happened fast. They wanted to get it over with quickly. Mei had also not wanted to kill anyone at the very least the twins could do was keep up their promise from earlier in the day to avoid that. And they did.

That didn't mean there weren't lost limbs. Hands and arms. A leg or two. More than a couple eyes were lost. Someone lost an ear. Another a tail and horn.

Injuries they could recover from meant as warnings.

All it took was 3 minutes and the entire storage area they crashed in was a mix of grey and brown and red. Demons holding their injuries or running off.

The one who had attacked Yin and hurt Mei stood in awe and fear, looking down at the smaller twins who has decimated an entire group so fast.

"I-how!?" He yelled, backing up slowly. "This isn't possible, you're not this strong!"

"Who told you that?" Yin asked slowly, tilting his head and watching as the demon realized... he'd never heard they couldn't fight. "We don't fight like this because we don't want to. Never meant we can't."

"Why?"

"We are really bad actors," Jin said, wiping the blood off his weapon on an unconscious demon's shirt. "Why bother trying to hold back when we can just hide it by not trying?" He turned to the demon, glowering coldly as he watched his brother pick Mei up carefully. "Tell anyone who asks nothing. We'd like to keep it that way. Unless you want a round two where someone else doesn't hold us back."

And then they were gone.

~

"What in the actual hell happened?" Macaque asked in an even tone. Practiced even. A dangerous even.

"Well-" "You see boss-" "we kinda-" "-there was-"

Jin and Yin tried to think of a reasonable excuse, faltering as everything they thought of sounded worse and worse in their heads.

The two sat in Mei's hospital room, towels draped around their shoulders. They’d been smart enough to stash Mei's bike somewhere safe and wash off in the ocean before coming to the hospital, less covered in demon blood meant less scared humans when they rushed in with Mei in tow, and it was easy to make the nurses believe them.

Simple bike accident, friend hurt, help please.

With Macaque staring them down with his patented death glower, shadows growing and warping around the room in response to him, it was infinitely harder.

Of course Mei's emergency contact was MK. Of course MK could call Macaque before her parents (who were apparently on their way back from some kind of dragon family business trip when they learned). Of course Macaque would show up almost immediately and begin asking questions.

"It was my fault," Mei chimed in, voice slightly off from having awoken with a nasty concussion. "I thought it'd be fun to go on a joy ride late at night, I've done it before without issues! But, uh... I've never had two passengers before... and we hit something. Don't be mad at them?"

Macaque looked like he believed Mei as much as he believed Tang would lose interest in the Monkey King and switch his field of study to obscure methods of basket weaving. Which is to say: he didn’t. But he sighed, giving Mei a small smile as the shadows returned to normal.

"Ok," he said softly, tone much more gentle with the dragon descendant as he reached out to brush loose hair out of her face. "I won't be mad at them. I'll be very disappointed-" his tone hardened for a second at those words as he turned to the twins with a glower again. "-but I won't be mad. Do you need anything?"

"Maybe a candy bar from the vending machines outside?" Mei asked with a smile.

"Sure," Macaque laughed and shook his head, moving to the corner of the room. "I'll be right back."

He sunk into the shadows, a cool trick that the twins would always be impressed by, and they breathed a sigh of relief at knowing they were alone. For now.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, frowning at Mei in concern. Maybe it was just because he was now the eldest in the room, but some kind of protective feel pulled at him.

"I know," Mei said with a tired laugh, laying back into her pillow. "But you guys are like... my bros. I gotta stand up for my bros."

And that made both Jin and Yin pause. They looked at each other, eyes widening as they both came to a realization that was probably a very long time coming at that point.

"Yeah..." Yin said, a soft smile forming on his face. "We'd do the same for you... you know, if you didn't take that hit for me you probably would have kicked everyone's ass way better than us! We barely got out by the skin of our teeth!" A full truth and a blatant lie, but he hoped Mei wouldn't pick up on that second part.

"You know it, boi!" She didn't.

It was odd for him in particular. Yin had never really thought of himself as an older brother before.

First time for everything.

[quokkacore]

please don’t bite [wong yukhei] (m)

part of the wasn’t on pawpose collab

summary: you’d always prided yourself on being able to read people well and managing yourself as an independent hybrid in a world that was still getting over that. but when lucas, your best friend, manages to get himself turned into a wolf hybrid, it has you second-guessing everything you thought you knew about yourself, him, and the both of you, together. 

pairing: wolfhybrid!lucas x bunnyhybrid!femreader

genre: friends to enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, thriller if you squint

warnings: language, lucas is a bit of a dick, medical experimentation, mentions of sexual harassment, knotting, breeding kink, mating cycles, degradation (use of the word bitch to be specific), dirty talk, biting, marking, size kink, possessiveness, jealousy, mentioned doyoung x reader, momentarily dubious consent, stomach bulging, slight predator x prey dynamic between lucas and reader

song rec: troye sivan - bite ♡ wonder girls - why so lonely  ♡ neon trees - everybody talks  ♡ harry styles - cherry  ♡ the 1975 - tonight (i wish i was your boy)  ♡ sunmi - 24/7  ♡ loona (jinsoul)  - singing in the rain ♡ fall out boy - hold me tight, or don’t  ♡ wayv - bad alive

word count: 17.6k

a/n: this turned out a lot longer and a lot angstier than i expected. also.... dont ask where yukhei’s human ears went. i don’t know either :P

masterlist

You were going to kill Lee Taemin, if the dean of your university didn’t do it first. This was all his fault. 

It all started at the beginning of the semester, when Lucas, your best friend and roommate, had told you during dinner he was helping your older friend, Taemin with an experiment for his Ph.D. You'd expected him to say he'd be handing out surveys on Main Street or trying some new diet and writing down the effects, or something along those lines. 

Nope, not at all. What he really said had thrown you for a loop. “Actually, I’m gonna be trying out some hybrid hormone pills he’s been working on that have finally been cleared for human testing.”

You’d choked on the pizza you were eating. “You’re going to do what!?” You cried when you finally managed to swallow your food.

“Dude, chill,” He answered, large hands waving back and forth passively, “Taemin hyung is 99% percent sure that they’re absolutely safe. I’m just supposed to go in for testing once a week and write down any side effects I feel, which, according to him, should be at most three or four, and they’re not even that major.”

“Okay…” You’d answered, quirking your head. You were still slightly wary, your ears twitching. "And Taemin's like, completely sure they're safe to eat?" 

Lucas nodded, demeanor completely casual. His calm expression did nothing to deter your concerns, mind going a mile a minute when a new thought popped into your mind.

“Yukhei, what kind of hybrid hormones are you even taking? Predator hybrids or prey hybrids?”

His smile had disappeared slightly, and his eyes left your face to stare down at his plate. Your stomach sank, and your foot started tapping in distress.

“Wong Yukhei. What kind of hormones are they gonna give you.”

“They’re, uh… alpha wolf hormones.”

Your eyes widened, and he rushed to placate you. “Y/N, bunny, calm down. I know how you feel about predator hybrids, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought there was something weird about this whole thing. The dean is breathing down Taemin’s neck telling him not to fuck it up. Trust me, he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t absolutely certain that it was safe.”

You chewed on your lips, before sighing. “Please be careful, Xuxi. You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to hurt yourself all because Taem wants to find a way to get taller after puberty.”

Lucas had laughed, glad that the mood in your kitchen had shifted from tense to slightly less tense. He grabbed your hand, your eyes dropping to glance at it for a second, before looking him in his eyes. “If you want… He told me earlier he’d be at the lab until like, midnight. Maybe we could go pay him a visit, and he can explain everything better, you know?”

You pursed your lips, glancing at the clock. It was almost eight. After a few seconds, you huffed, and nodded, the tension finally diffusing.

“Alright, alright, let me get my jacket.”

He grinned at you, and you flashed him a smile back, automatically endeared at his goofy expression as he disappeared to gather his things. You smiled to yourself, looking down at your hands which had fallen into your lap, sighing.

Too cute. He's too cute.

The walk to the campus lab took about fifteen minutes, maybe less. Lucas, despite being taller than you, actually walked at a much more snail-like pace, and thus fell victim to your playful teasing over his slow walk.

"You're part bunny," He pointed out, eyes briefly glancing at the white rabbit ears poking out from your hair, "You have that natural spring in your step."

"Bull," You countered with a smile, turning to face him, now walking backwards, "They disproved the whole ‘rabbit hybrids run faster than humans’ theory years ago. You just suck at walking, Xuxi."

"You just suck at walking, Xuxi," Lucas grumbled, mocking your tone, but there was no malice behind it. You laughed, turning as he took a few quicker strides to catch up. His hand came up to pat the spot between your fluffy ears at the top of your head, and you hummed in satisfaction as the door of the chemistry department finally came into view. 

The ride up the elevator was quiet. You were still slightly uneasy, ears twitching, something Lucas easily picked up on. He flashed you a soft smile, pulling you closer.

“Everything will be fine, bunny. I promise.”

You nodded, pressing your head against his shoulder. You took a deep breath, taking in Lucas’s distinct scent of cinnamon. “I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier… But you gotta admit, it sounds risky. And with the side effects, I thought maybe it would affect behaviot, and a lot of predator hybrids are just huge dicks, sometimes, especially around prey hybrids, you know? They’re creepy and asshole-ish and, well, you remember the snow leopard guy we met at The Burrow a few months ago, right?”

Lucas’s eyes darkened, recalling the time you had to mace a hybrid at a bar because the guy was getting handsy with you, despite the fact that you had made it incredibly clear that you weren’t interested. He nodded, staring at his feet.

“I don’t want any of Taemin’s weird science hurting you or affecting your behavior.”

He nodded, eyes sympathetic. “I totally get it. But like I said earlier, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust hyung with it 100%, or if I thought that it could hurt me or you in any way. You’re my bunny, you know? I would never do anything to hurt you.” 

“I know, I know, Xuxi, and I trust you… But I will cut Taemin’s legs off if you die.”

He shook his head, his amused smile growing lopsided on his features.

Finally, the elevator made a ding! and the doors slid open. The hallway was lit with industrial fluorescent lights, much brighter than the warm light of the elevator.

Lucas’s larger hand grabbed yours, leading you down the hallway. 

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw Taem,” You mumbled, not really thinking about the topic, “It’s like he lives here now.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lucas replied, “Baekhyun hyung’s been begging him to just let it go for at least a night, but he’s obsessed.”

A few doors later, and you finally arrived at the one indicating it was the floor’s chemistry lab, and Lucas knocked once, twice, before a soft, muffled voice said, “Come in!”

Lucas opened the door, letting you step in first before following suit and closing the door behind him. On the other end of the lab, stood a thin, short man facing away from the both of you, typing away at a laptop. You knew it was Taemin, he smelled like Taemin, but your mind didn’t immediately register that it was him; his ashy blond hair was up in a hairnet, he was wearing a long lab coat, and there were blue latex gloves covering his hands. 

“Hyung?” Lucas asked, and the typing stopped abruptly as Taemin turned, took in the sight of the both of you, before flashing a gummy smile. 

“Hey! Y/N, long time, no see. And Yukhei!! Just the person I wanted to talk to.” His tone was pleasant, excited. “I wanted to talk to you about your hormone treatment.” 

“That’s great, because we wanted to talk to you about it also.”

Taemin furrowed his eyebrows, giving a slight shake of his head. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Lucas. “We?”

Your eyes widened before holding out your hands. You exchanged a brief look with Lucas, whose ears were a bright red. 

“I wanted to know about the whole wolf hormone thing because… you know. Well, you know how we live together, and prey hybrids and predator hybrids don’t really get along well, you know? I mean, I know that it’s just hormones, but… should we be worried about anything? Should I be worried?”

Taemin’s mouth dropped open slightly as he registered what you said, and he shut his eyes before shaking your head.

“No, not at all! I totally understand your concerns, Y/N. We’re using several different test subjects for the human testing, all with different circumstances, but they’re our ‘demographic’ when it comes to using the treatment. A few are hard of hearing, others have suffered physical trauma in their legs or arms, some have poor eyesight. Our intention with using wolf hormones is to see if it can be used as adequate treatment for specific disabilities.”

“Lucas doesn’t have any of those things?” You said, confused. You glanced at Lucas, who was still watching Taemin, before the latter spoke again.

“He’s part of a separate group, people who have no major medical ailments or physical disabilities. We want to see what the effects could be on the statistically average human.”

You nodded, still feeling slightly uneasy despite Taemin’s otherwise chipper attitude. “So the expected changes are going to be mostly physical? No behavioral side effects?” 

“A few behavioral side effects, but nothing major. Increased appetite, irritability, high energy, maybe increased libido. Nothing too major. Mostly we’re trying to see if he gets stronger, or if his hearing and eyesight improve… I understand you feel worried, Y/N, but the members of my research team and I have been working around the clock to make sure that these pills are absolutely safe for human consumption. From our research, there’s like, a 98.7% chance that nothing other than the expected side effects will show up, and those aren’t really behavioral at all.”

“Why not 100%?” You asked, eyes shifting back and forth uneasily.

Taemin grimaced, gaze sympathetic as he exchanged a look with Lucas, and then with you. “Well, nothing is ever 100% confirmed, so science doesn’t really lend itself to certainty, y’know?”

That had been two months ago.

For the first two weeks, everything seemed like it would be fine. Lucas’s only complaints about the hormone pills were that they made his hair grow a bit faster and that they were so big that they were hard to swallow. Then… things started to happen.

First, he started to eat a whole lot more. Every time you saw him between classes, he seemed to be chewing on something. You were grateful he wasn’t touching your food, because he seemed to only ever be eating meat.

“Didn’t Taemin say I’d probably get hungrier?” He asked one night, eating a ham sandwich as he sat on the couch. You were resting your head on his thigh, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that any crumbs wouldn’t fall into your hair or your ears.. You set down your phone, blinking as you tried to remember, before nodding. 

“Yeah, he did. Shouldn’t you write that down?”

“Uhh… Yeah.” He stood, you sitting up, and walked towards his room, probably to do as you suggested, before he called out to you one last time. He at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish.

“Hey bunny, can you, uh, order some Chinese food?”

Then he started complaining about loud noises. However, from what you could tell, there were no loud noises at all. Your rabbit ears, from what you understood, had similar hearing to that of humans, only you were slightly more sensitive to higher frequencies. So you were incredibly confused when Lucas barged in while you were pacing in your room, going over flashcards for an exam, dark eyes glaring at you. He seemed slightly ticked off.

“Can you please stop stomping around in here? I’m trying to finish a paper.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced down at your feet, which were covered by a pair of fuzzy socks. “Uhh, I’m not stomping?”

He cocked an eyebrow. ��Y/N, I’m serious, stop yelling. This paper is due tomorrow and it’s like 15% of my final grade.” 

“And I’m serious too?” Your tone was perplexed, because you weren’t yelling at all, “I was just pacing, Xuxi, like this.”

You took a few steps back and forth to show him, footsteps light, barely audible, and his face scrunched up in discomfort. 

“But… it’s so loud. It’s giving me a headache.”

You made a face, before your eyebrows shot up, and your ears did as well. 

“Do you think it’s because of the hormones?” You asked, lowering your voice so it was just above a whisper, “Taemin said that would probably happen, remember? Wolves have crazy hearing.”

He opened his mouth to answer, before closing it again. He flashed you a weird look, before shaking his head. “Okay...? I’ll tell hyung that it’s working… But like, can you please just sit down while you study?” 

You nodded, sympathetic, and he closed the door. But a few seconds later, he reopened it. He looked a bit confused. “Is that… new perfume?”

It was your turn to make a face at him. “Huh?”

He shook his head, still looking confused. “Uh, nothing,” He mumbled, waving a dismissive hand, “Never mind. Forget I asked.” 

He closed the door a final time, and you were left even more weirded out than you already were. 

Somehow, he got even taller than he already was. A few days later when you were making breakfast for the both of you and you had your back turned, he came and hugged you from behind, still addled with sleep. You paid him no mind, continuing your task. One of his arms wrapped itself around your neck, almost as if he were trying to put you into a loving headlock, something he often did. In response, you did what you often did whenever he did so, which was to nuzzle your chin against his forearm.

"Good morning," He hummed, voice deep and raspy, “That smells good."

“For you,” You answered, scrunching up your nose as you turned over the bacon, “I feel like you forget sometimes that my genes make me a herbivore, Xuxi.”

Lucas stepped away, and you frowned at the loss of warmth. “Eh, sometimes. Do you want me to grab a plate?”

You set down the spatula before turning off the stove, as you turned to face him. 

“You can serve yours—oh my god.”

You had lifted your head to where you usually did to look up at Lucas, and for some reason, had only been met with his neck. You craned your neck back even further, and met his eyes, which held a confused look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape. 

“Did you get… smaller?”

“No,” You mumbled, still in disbelief, “I think you got… bigger. H-how tall exactly were you again?”

“Uh, 1.83 meters.”

You nodded, closing your mouth. “Yeah, you’re definitely more than that now.”

Lucas peered down at you, gaze slightly concerned. “This is starting to get really weird. Should I write this down?”

You frowned, looking him up and down. The shirt he’d went to bed with, an oversized white tee, now fit him better. “Yukhei, at this point, I think you should go see Taemin. Did he even mention growth spurts?”

Lucas blinked, before pushing the hair out of his still puffy, sleep ridden eyes. “Hmm, I don’t think he did. I’ll eat breakfast and then go see him.”

According to Lucas, when he’d gotten back, Taemin had been over the moon when he’d measured him and found he’d grown almost 11 centimeters in his sleep, now standing at 1.94 meters. 

Everything had been somewhat tolerable. Not yet batshit insane. Lucas’s mood swings were relatively easy to handle as long as you left him alone whenever he seemed pissy, and he always apologized afterwards. He started staying up even later, but you didn’t really mind since he did his best not to be too loud. 

Sure, the fact that his hair started growing faster and ended up in the shower drain when he decided to “manscape” (his words, not yours) was gross, but bearable. His random bursts of energy, making him even more eccentric than he already was, were kind of like babysitting a huge, five year old Lucas doped up on caffeine. Which, while a bit more tiring to put up with, had not yet crossed into uncanny territory.

Yet. 

It all came to a head one Sunday morning, when Lucas had woken you up when he started screaming from the bathroom. You were woken from your peaceful slumber, and immediately stumbled out of bed to see what was going on, tripping on your way out the door in your panic.

“Yukhei!?” You shouted, slamming the door open. Your eyes were wide. Your heart was racing. Immediately your nose was hit with a strange odor. That put you even more on edge than you already were. Your eyes scanned the small bathroom in a haste. Your eyes fell to the corner. There, was Lucas, huddling. Knees to his chest, hands covering the top of his head, trembling and babbling incoherently, the sound muffled by the fact that his face was buried somewhere in between his knees and his chest.

“Y-Yukhei?” You repeated again, this time quieter, breathing heavily, anxiously. Was he having a panic attack? Was this a side effect of the treatment? “C-can I come closer?”

He trembled, not giving you an answer, still mumbling to himself. He seemed almost catatonic. Swallowing the lump in your throat at seeing your closest friend like this, you steeled yourself. Crouching, and slowly making your way to him, you cautiously held out an arm, and slowly, slowly, touched his hand.

He immediately flinched away, your heart dropping at his action. He sniffled, letting out a little sob, and tears sprung into your eyes. You blinked them away as best you could. He needed someone to lean on, and you couldn’t do that if you were an emotional mess.

“No, no,” He cried, voice small. “Please, stay away.”

“Yukhei,” You murmured, voice wavering, “I’m not gonna leave you like this. W-what’s wrong? Tell me Xuxi, please. You’re scaring me.”

“Y-you’ll hate me.”

You gasped quietly, resting your hand on his. “Xuxi… I could never hate you.”

“Even looking like this!?” He snapped harshly, lifting his gaze, dropping his arms, and you fell back onto your butt in shock. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide, white ears stood at full attention.

You peered into Lucas’s teary, red rimmed eyes. Only they weren’t Lucas’s eyes. Lucas’s eyes had always been a deep, rich brown, reminiscent of the earth. But these eyes were a bright, glowing amber, seeming almost radioactive in how much brighter they were than Lucas's old eye color. 

Your mouth moved as you scrambled to say something, but no sound came out. Your eyes caught the attention of something twitching atop Lucas’s head, and you blinked dumbly, taking in the salt and pepper pointy ears peeking out between his caramel colored hair, before scanning his entire body and taking in the thick tail swishing back and forth behind him.

The blood in your body ran cold as you took a deep breath through the nose. Lucas’s signature scent of cinnamon was still there, but now overpowered by the strange odor from earlier. You realized with a chill that the scent was earthy, musky, a smell you were no stranger to as a hybrid. Your animal instincts automatically kicked in, whispering in your mind: predator. wolf. danger. danger. danger.

 “I…” Your voice was hoarse as you pushed yourself up onto the balls of your feet, inching closer towards him slowly, despite the hairs on your neck standing straight up and telling you to run far, far away. 

“Y-Yukhei, what happened?”

He shook his head, shaking like a leaf. “I don’t know,” He mumbled in a daze, and although he was staring at you with those strange yellow eyes, you got the impression from the blank look in them that he wasn’t really looking at you. “I woke up, and I c-came in here and I looked in the mirror and…”

He didn’t finish, but you got the point. You pursed your lips, before making your way towards him, but he let out a groan and you froze in your spot as he knocked his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. 

“What is that smell?” He growled, “Why do you smell like that?”

“Like what?” You asked quietly, anticipating his answer. He shook his head, cracking his eyes open ever so slightly to peer at you. His gaze seemed to freeze you in place. 

“Like… jasmine? I mean, it’s so strong…”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to tell him that that was your characteristic scent as a hybrid. You were still reeling from the fact that Lucas, who up until yesterday, aside from a few obnoxious habits, had been very human, was now a hybrid just like you, with ears and a tail and…

You glanced down at his gritted teeth, taking note of the very, very sharp canines that had seemingly grown overnight. 

You gulped, looking up at him. His wide eyes showed you that he was just as terrified as you were, and you swallowed back your wariness when your heart clenched at the sight. He needed help more than you needed comforting.“We need to get you to Taemin. Now.”

You had to force Lucas into his car, which was not easy in his dazed state, considering he was so much bigger than you. Towering over you, pure muscle, and basically a limp rag doll. In your panic, you’d forgotten your phone, your pants, and to give Lucas some shoes. You did the driving despite the fact that it was his car. He still seemed too frazzled to do so, so you buckled him up and started the ten minute drive to Taemin’s apartment.  

On the way, you did your best to ignore the situation at hand. That just because Lucas was a predator hybrid now didn’t automatically make him like the rest of them. Lucas wasn’t like the pervy fox hybrids who would follow you for blocks when you were in high school. He wasn’t like the snow leopard you’d forced off of yourself. He was Lucas, he was Yukhei. He was your Xuxi, and you needed to repeat yourself that he wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

The silence in the car was tense. You were sure that with his heightened senses, Lucas could hear everything, and you didn’t want to say anything to upset him further. He didn’t say anything to you. You didn’t say anything to him. And when you parked in front of Taemin’s apartment building, you got him out of the car, and grabbed him by the hand to walk to the door.

You were grateful it was Sunday morning. There weren’t that many people out on the street as you tapped your foot impatiently, pressing the button to buzz the comm on Taemin’s apartment incessantly. The few people that did pass were more focused on your sleep-addled bedhead and bare feet than anything else, and you thanked the universe for the fact that your oversized sleep shirt fell to your mid thighs. 

“It’s eight in the morning. Literally what do you want,” A deep, groggy voice grumbled, and you rolled your eyes. Finally.

“It’s Y/N and Lucas,” You said into the speaker, pressing a hand to your forehead in frustration. “You need to see this, now.”

 “Uhh, it’s Jongin,” The voice mumbled, and your eyes squeezed shut. He sounded so hungover. And whenever Jongin was hungover, that probably meant Taemin was hungover as well, and that it was generally Baekhyun’s idea. 

“Wake Taem up, please, Nini,” You pleaded desperately. “It’s life or death.”

“Fine, fine, okay. Come on up.”

When you made it up to their floor, a bedraggled Jongin opened the door. He was shirtless, his hair was sticking up in random spots, his face was still puffy, and he didn’t look happy to be woken up.

He looked you up and down, eyebrows furrowing at your appearance. “I swear this had better be good,” He told you, before turning to look at Lucas, “or I’m gonna—”

Jongin cut himself off as he registered the pointy ears, the fluffy tail, and the glowing yellow eyes. His eyes widened, certainly looking more awake now. His mouth started moving, but no sound came out.

“I—uh—is this why—?”

“Get Taemin,” You snapped, ready to kill him. You were furious, to say the least, ready to barge in and kick Taemin’s ass. This was his fault, all in the name of mad science. But then you added softly, voice wavering, “I don’t know what to do.”

For someone who almost never stopped talking, Taemin had nothing to say, for once. Instead, his eyes turned wide as saucers, his eyebrows jumped up to his hairline, and you were sure that if his jaw could have dropped any lower, it would have fallen below sea level. When he finally did manage to speak, his voice was small and unsure, and he never stopped gawking at the ears on Lucas’s head.

“Uh… Y-Y/N, Jongin, could you give us a minute, please?” 

So you did, letting them walk off to Taemin’s bedroom, and as Jongin sat you down on the couch to make you some tea, Baekhyun emerged from his own bedroom. Baekhyun at least looked a bit more awake than the dynamic duo, who, in their hungover state, both looked like the walking dead. 

“Y/N?” He asked, seeing you on the couch. He had a small but confused smile on his face. “What are you doing here…?”

“You’re not gonna believe what Taemin did to Yukhei,” Jongin’s voice declared from the kitchen. Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, craning his head once, to look at Taemin’s shut door, again, to look at Jongin standing at the cupboard, and then to you, sitting on the couch with a blank stare on your face.

Baekhyun blinked. “Shit, did he kill him?” 

You pursed your lips, staring at him wide eyed, eyebrows furrowed. Your look was meant to convey something along the lines of, you’ve got to be kidding me. And by the way Baekhyun grimaced at himself a few moments later, broad shoulders scrunching up, he got the message loud and clear.

“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the situation, I guess?”

“Not helping, hyung,” Jongin huffed as he made his way over to you, handing you the warm mug of tea. You accepted it with a quiet “thanks,” before blowing on the tea and taking a quick sip. 

“What even happened?” Jongin’s deep voice was quiet, concerned. He sat down next to you, and Baekhyun sat down on your other side.

So you told the story from the beginning of the treatment, all the way up to when you decided to bring Lucas to Taemin. The hearing, the growth spurt, his mood swings. They listened, nodding along to the story and thankfully, not interrupting. From Baekhyun, at least, that was surprising. 

When you finished, you looked at them, then at your tea, which didn't feel as hot anymore. You lifted the mug to your lips, relishing the warm chamomile taste as Baekhyun opened his mouth to speak. Still not very comforting, but at least you were filling your stomach with something.

"Wow…" He mumbled, still in slight disbelief. "So, Yukhei's a hybrid now?"

“I guess. I don’t know.” Your voice sounded empty. 

Jongin sighed, gaze pensive. “What’s gonna happen between the two of you, though? You live together. You of all people know that prey hybrids and predator hybrids, living together in tiny spaces don’t really mix well.”

You frowned, settling the mug down on their coffee table. “It’s not like he’s gonna become one of those asshole-y hybrids overnight, y’know?” “Didn’t you say he snapped at you this morning?” Baekhyun asked, tilting his head. “You said he was having mood swings, too.” 

You shook your head, fluffy ears flattening against it as the stress seemed to accumulate in your body. “It wasn’t like that. I think he was just freaked out. And as for his mood swings… I don’t know.”

An awkward silence filled the room, and you gazed at your hands on your lap. 

“Uh, Y/N…” Jongin mumbled, tips of his ears a bright red, “A-are you wearing pants?”

“Oh,” You answered dumbly, feeling your face heat up, “Um… No? I kind of panicked and, uh, forgot to put some on.”

Jongin stood, holding out a hand. “Come on, you can borrow one of mine. You must be cold, right?”

You nodded, glancing at Baekhyun, who had a sympathetic smile on his face. You looked back to Jongin, and took his hand to stand up. He pulled you toward his room, trying to make you smile by telling you about his drunken escapades with Baekhyun and Taemin during karaoke. 

“Baekhyun almost got us kicked out while he was singing some Mamamoo song,” He said with a laugh, “You know how loud he gets.”

You smiled, giggling quietly as he opened a drawer, searching for something you could wear. After a few moments of fumbling around, he pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, and shuffled towards you. 

“So,” You said, reaching for the fabric, “I’m guessing you and Taemin did your usual rendition of Fergali—”

The sound of a door opening across the hall interrupted you, one ear lifting as you turned your head. Taemin emerged, Lucas trailing behind him. Taemin had changed out of his pajamas and was now wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. Your eyes immediately met Lucas’s, but a second after, his eyes fell to Jongin, then the pair of pants you were reaching out for, then back to you. His gaze was hollow, unreadable, but his eyes still shone bright amber. Jongin tucked the fabric into your hands, and took a step away from you. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hey, man, how are you doing?”

“Not really good, if I’m honest,” Lucas answered, practically glaring at the older man. You frowned at his tone. He was rarely this quiet.

“I did a quick check-up,” Taemin declared, “I don’t see any immediate risk, he seems to be safe for now.”

Your shoulders sagged, as you sighed in relief, tension leaving your body.

“But I’m still taking him to the lab,” Taemin said, eyes serious. “We never foresaw these... mutations. I need to run some tests and contact the team and the other test subjects. Y/N, you can stay here if you want, I don’t think Jongin and Baek hyung would mind—” 

“Head home, Y/N,” Lucas interjected, deep voice serious and clipped. He kept shifting his eyes in between you and Jongin. “I woke you up, you should go get some more sleep.”

The deep authority in his voice startled you. A small thought crossed your mind, submit, obey, and you realized that these were your rabbit instincts kicking in as it registered a predator in your midst. And that only happened when predator hybrids used a specific tone of speech, one used only to take command over a situation with other hybrids. It was a bit hard to disobey, but not impossible. With a chill, you realized he was probably doing this subconsciously. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to work, not with Lucas. Yes, Lucas had become this thing that you’d been told to fear, but it wasn’t necessarily him. You blinked, looking at Jongin, then at Taemin. You realized that Taemin and Jongin were staring at each other awkwardly, before looking at Lucas again. Despite your sleepy state, you knew your anxiety wouldn’t let you rest. And to be frank, you didn’t want to be alone after what had happened. “I could wait for you here, Xuxi, and then we could head back home together—”

“I can drop him off at your place!” Taemin said, an awkward smile plastered on his face. “It’s no problem, you should head on home…” You furrowed your eyebrows, before nodding slowly at having your actions countered.

“Huh,” You answered slowly, remembering all of the times Taemin had gotten pissy about giving you and Lucas a ride home (gas money, he complained), even though his apartment wasn’t that far from yours, “Okay…? I’ll head home in a little bit. You guys be careful.”

Lucas nodded, face not changing. He was upset, you could tell, but he was completely justified, given everything that he’d been through. You didn’t appreciate him taking it out on everyone around him, though. 

“Yukhei, let’s go.” Taemin seemed all too eager to drag Lucas away, and you watched, bewildered at the strange shift in energy between the three men. You’d known Jongin and Taemin since your freshman year of college, and Lucas since junior year of high school. Never had you seen the three of them act like this.

You turned to Jongin once you heard the front door close. He was shifting back and forth awkwardly. “That was… weird.”

“Well,” He said, scratching at the back of his neck, “This whole morning has been a bit weird, don’t you think?”

You gave a sardonic smile, trying to figure out how to explain your thoughts. “I mean, yeah, but… I don’t know. Regardless of that, everything just seemed off between the three of you.”

Jongin’s eyes met yours. He looked a bit taken aback.

“You can’t be serious.”

You shook your head. “What?”

Jongin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god,” He muttered, more to himself, “You really don’t know.”

“Jongin, what?”

“Yukhei likes you,” Jongin confessed, rubbing at his chin, “He has for years.”

Your ears shoot straight up, eyes widening. Immediately your face heated up, and your free hand shot upwards, waving them back and forth.

"What? Huh? No. No, no, no. We’re just—" 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He countered, “You’re friends. But he wants to be more. He’s told me so, several times.”

When you didn’t answer, he walked around you to sit on his bed. He sighed, looking upwards as he gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. 

“Y/N, you’re smart. And you’re an independent person, and you value that because of how some people still treat hybrids. Especially prey hybrids. I know that. You know  that. Yukhei knows that. But…” He sighed again, shaking his head.

“You don’t see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. He… he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, or like you invented pizza, or something. And right now, his behavior…”

He groaned in exasperation, and you raised an eyebrow. “What?”  

“I don’t know how to put it other way than territorial,” He grumbled with a frown, “The way he was acting was like that look, but more aimed at me. Like, she’s the only one I see, don’t look at her the way I do. And I’m no expert on hybrid behavior, but…”

You didn’t know what to think, but you completed his thought anyway. 

“...You think Lucas was acting possessive.”

“I don’t think, I know,” He said, “He seemed really standoffish, and you should be careful. Not because he’s dangerous—this is Yukhei we’re talking about—but because it might strain your friendship.”

You remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing everything he’d told you. 

You didn’t want to believe him. 

You went home not much later, trying to process everything you’d seen and heard that morning in the silence of the car as you drove through traffic, still pantsless. You didn’t feel comfortable accepting Jongin’s pants after everything he’d pointed out in Lucas’s behavior.

Lucas, your mind continued to think, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.

You’d known Lucas for so long at this point, he’d always just been your best friend. You’d never really wanted anything else from him.

You knew people had been expecting the two of you to get together for years. Your friends had told you, your family had told you, and now, his friends had told you that there was something going on between you and him. And every time, you’d been adamant to deny it. No, he’s like my brother. No, he’s my best friend. No, I don’t see him that way. No, he’s seeing someone. No, I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway. 

Lucas was attractive, you knew that. You had eyes. You had ears. Regardless of his looks, he was effortlessly charming and funny, and that would make anyone attractive. You saw how people swooned and fawned over him, despite him rarely being interested. But he’d always just been your best friend, the one who supported you through everything and made you laugh on your darkest days. And from living with him for the past few years, you considered it a bit awkward to be attracted to someone after seeing them scratch their ass as nonchalantly as possible in front of you as he had. 

That was until this morning, when he’d spoken using that tone of voice. You still weren’t sure how to feel about that. It gave you the chills, but... not in the way you’d expected. Something instinctual had begged you to submit to him. That didn’t usually happen to you when you heard other hybrids used that tone. Usually, you would feel a small tug in your gut, maybe a small flutter of anxiousness, but most of the time all it achieved was a roll of your eyes. But not with him. Not with Lucas.

You thought about it the entire way home. You thought about it on the way up to your apartment. You thought about it as you crawled into your bed, closed your eyes, and finally allowed your mind to be at peace once more. You slept until noon, then made yourself some lunch, showered, and worked on a few assignments you had for your classes.

Lucas came home several hours later, just before 7 PM. He no longer seemed as tense as this morning, but tired, instead. You didn’t blame him. His eyes had faded back to their warm, welcoming shade of brown, which didn’t surprise you. Wolf hybrids’ eyes tended to glow like that whenever they were on edge about something.

“How are you doing?” You asked, as he sat down on the couch. “Is everything alright?”

Slowly, you sat down next to him, wondering if he’d still be snappy as he had this morning. His neck turned to look down at you, and with a deep sigh, he nodded. 

“Medically, I’m sound. They still need to run a few tests, to see if this is something permanent, or not. I’ve been ordered to stop taking the pills, for now.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile out of relief. 

“Thank god,” You murmured, “I was worried about that. But how are you doing?”

He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He shrugged, pursing his lips. His body shifted towards you, and before you knew it, he’d tackled you into a hug, burying his face into your neck. He seemed to be holding back tears again, and your eyes fluttered shut as he spoke again. “Honestly? I don’t know,” He said, voice small and muffled against your skin, “Things like this are so… different. I found out several things have changed basically overnight.”

“Like what?” Your arms came to wrap around him, trying to calm him down.

“Fuck, I don’t even know. Like, I can smell so much more, now. I can see in the dark, apparently? I can hear so much, Y/N. I’ve been poked and prodded all day and no one knows if this is gonna go away and I’m just… I’m scared.”

He shook his head, shifting to bury his head again, but this time into the other side of your neck. Your hand began to comb through his hair, trying to avoid touching the furry ears that now resided atop his head.

You shook your head, humming. You rested your chin against his shoulder, nuzzling into his form, and his large hands rose to your waist, arms wrapping around it. You looked down when you saw vague movement from below your gaze, and smiled to yourself when you saw Yukhei's tale wagging with contentment. 

“Everything will work out fine, Yukhei,” You whispered, “What matters now is that you’re safe, you’re healthy. You’re so strong, Xuxi. Whatever life throws at you, even if it knocks you down, you always get up with that big smile of yours and keep going.”

He nodded against your neck, cuddling even closer to you. “Thank you,” He answered, before pulling his head away. His eyebrows were furrowed, dark eyes peering into yours from above you. 

“This morning,” He mumbled, “When you were in Jongin hyung’s room. I said something. And I don’t know what it was but it felt…” 

You forced your face to remain blank and expressionless, and broke eye contact, trying to gather your words. God, you didn’t know what to tell him. “Oh… Yeah. That’s sort of a, uh, special tone more dominant predator hybrids use. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’m sure there’s some scientific term, but uh… yeah.”

“Oh.” He pulled away from you slowly, resting against the couch. You nodded awkwardly. 

“I don’t hate you,” You said suddenly. “This morning, in the bathroom, you didn’t want to let me look at you because you thought I’d hate you… I don’t. I could never.”

He smiled, but didn’t meet your eyes. “We don’t have to make this awkward, do we? I don’t feel any different just because of… this. You’re still my best friend, Y/N.”

You nodded, smiling. “Why should it be awkward? I don't think this will change anything, Xuxi.”

Finally, he looked at you, and your eyes found his. His smile grew, and yours did as well. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” He said moments later, as his hand rose to rub at his neck, “I’m insanely tired.”

“Good night, Xuxi,” You told him as he stood.

 “Good night, bunny.”

When he walked into his room without another word, you watched as he did so, closing the door to his room, right across the hall from yours. You rubbed at a kink in your neck, inhaling deeply as you did so. 

A few moments later, you stopped, eyebrows furrowing. You frowned, ears perking up ever so slightly as something gained your attention. You sniffled once, twice, three times.

Usually, you couldn’t perceive your own hybrid scent unless you consciously thought of it, kind of like when a person thinks of breathing and starts doing it manually rather than automatically. But now, you couldn’t do it. 

Instead, only the scent that you’d registered this morning as Lucas’s remained in its place. Your breath hitched as you realized that Lucas, in hugging you and burying his face in your neck, had scented you. 

There’s no way he did that on purpose… right?

Did Lucas even know about scenting? Was he even aware that it was a courting gesture between hybrids, and a way to tell other hybrids to back off?

Your mind drifted back to what Jongin had said this morning, and you sighed as you once again contemplated the situation. Within a day, both your life and Lucas’s had made a turn for the stranger, and no one knew whether this would be permanent or not.

Shaking your head to yourself, you stood, making your way to your room. This is only awkward if I make it awkward. Lucas doesn’t know hybrid behavior very well because up until this morning, he wasn’t one. Y/N L/N, you’re not going to make this awkward. This isn’t about you being ‘uncomfortable’, this is about Lucas’s wellbeing. You’re not going to make this awkward, you’re not going to make this awkward!

When you reached your door, you took one last glance at Lucas’s door, deciding that you would do your best to help him, for his sake.  

It couldn’t get that awkward, right? Especially not if you tried your best to make it as such. The both of you could continue living as if nothing had changed, right?

Wrong. 

The next few days, it was almost as if the conversation you’d had that night had never happened, but not for your lack of trying. The next morning when you emerged from your bedroom, you found that Lucas was already gone, probably off to class. You shrugged it off, but still found it kind of strange.

When you got home from your classes and studying at the library, he was in the kitchen, eating a sandwich, and you greeted him, and he answered with a vague “hello”, not really paying you much attention. You thought it was strange, but chalked it up to him probably being tired. 

Then it happened the next day, and the day after that, and the next day, and the next, and the next. And almost overnight, you had no idea who this person who had replaced your best friend was. You felt hurt, trying your best to speak to him when you returned to your apartment. He wouldn’t budge, and you’d back off before you pissed him off too much. 

He didn’t look at you the same way he once did. It was like all of the warmth and happiness from his eyes had been sucked out of them, leaving a winter that rivaled the north pole. You couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed around you.

You missed Lucas. You really did, and the worst thing was that you couldn’t tell if he felt the same thing. You didn’t want to confront him, telling yourself he was going through a tough time. You could tell it frustrated him, having this new tail twitch and to knock something over, the augmented senses distorting and amplifying everything around him. 

He confessed about three weeks, in a clipped tone, that Taemin couldn’t be sure if it was permanent or not. Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone before. There was no way test designed for this situation, and Taemin would have to design a safe way to test it. Which meant time, money, and patience. Two of which, those being money and patience, Lucas had never had much of. 

“Oh, Xuxi,” You’d sighed when he told him, “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He set down the textbook he’d been holding onto the table. “You didn’t do it.”

You stepped forward, and he stepped back, almost immediately as you had. You frowned. “Please don’t do that,” You mumbled, now kind of angry. 

“Do what,” He sighed, as if the conversation was exhausting.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” You were glaring at him now. “You’ve been avoiding me like the goddamn plague.”

“And what if I am?” He asked, turning to face you. The ears on his head twitched restlessly, and his eyes were burning with what seemed to be contempt. “What if I can’t stand to be around you anymore?”

Your eyes widened, taken aback. After weeks of him not giving you the time of day, for him to say that was too much for you to take sitting down. You scoffed angrily, tapping your foot anxiously. “Excuse me? Where is this coming from?”

He stood up straight, and somewhere in your mind, a little alarm went off in your head at the sheer size of him. He always slouched, just a little. To see him like this, especially now that he’d grown so much, was jarring.

“You heard me,” He said in a tone you could only describe as threatening, taking a step towards you, and this time, you took a step back. “I can't stand being around you anymore. I can’t stand your face, or your voice, or your scent, or your voice. You get on my nerves, and sometimes I swear, I just wanna...”

He didn’t finish.

You shook your head, laughing humorlessly, despite the fact that your heart was cracking with every passing second. You didn’t know this person. Sadness and anger swirled in your chest, creating a mixture that made you grit your teeth. 

You weren’t backing down from this, not after giving him space to himself only to turn around and tell you this. You took a step forward, crossing your arms. “Um, why? What did I ever do or say?” 

He didn’t answer, fully scowling now. His eyes studied your face, but after a few moments, it dropped lower. You realized almost immediately he was looking at your neck. You swallowed nervously, forcing yourself to not look away when he met your eyes again. 

Still, no answer, and you groaned, causing him to snap out of his strange reverie. “Fine. Don’t fucking tell me. See if I care, Yukhei.”

You stepped away from him one last time, walking towards your room. 

“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation, you know! I don’t owe you shit!” He yelled, and you jumped at his sudden burst of anger. You turned, incredulous. Even he seemed to be shocked by the volume of his voice, wolf ears pressed against his head, like a puppy who’d just gotten chastised.

“And I don’t need you yelling at me! Just because you hate me doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit!” You answered desperately, just as loud. You hated the way that your voice cracked towards the end of your tirade, eyes welling with tears and throat closing up. You blinked the tears back furiously, taking one final look at the increasingly sad look on his face before slamming your bedroom door behind you. 

Finally alone, you took a few deep breaths, trying to think over what had just happened. 

You’d known Yukhei for years. Never once had he raised his voice at you or anyone else. And here he’d just exploded at you, telling you that he couldn’t stand you or the things that made you, well, you.

You sat on your bed, body numb, as the tears began to flow freely. But you couldn’t bring yourself to make noise. You couldn’t bring yourself to curl up sob into your pillow . You knew that he would most likely be able to hear you if you did, and you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 

Instead, you laid back, trying your hardest to control your breathing, and fell asleep like that, with the tears falling into your hair, eyeliner and mascara streaking along your skin, feeling utterly destroyed.

After that, you felt yourself giving him an even wider berth than before. You didn’t speak to him unless you absolutely needed to, like when you couldn’t reach the sugar that had suspiciously ended up on the highest shelf, (even though you were the only one to use it) and needed him to hand it to you.

If you walked into the living room and he also happened to be in there, you two would meet eyes briefly, before you walked away. His gaze was never cold, but rather emotionless. Indifferent, bordering on unreadable. It still hurt to see. The only thing that could describe the mood of the apartment was tense. You quickly learned to hate living in such a suffocating environment.

The only "good" thing was that finals were right around the corner, so you were able to distract yourself from the whole situation and pour all of your concentration into studying into the wee hours of the morning. 

But that only lasted for so long.

Taemin had mentioned a heightened libido as a side effect of the treatment. As far as you could tell, Yukhei didn't give off any signs of that. It didn’t even make sense, considering he’d stopped taking the pills ever since the mutation had occurred.

However, for some reason, the universe decided that it wanted to cause you trouble on purpose. 

You came home one day to strange noises coming from Yukhei's bedroom. And when you got closer, it didn't take much for you to realize what was going on between him and whoever he'd brought home. Deep groans, high pitched moaning, and the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. Even worse, the smell. It smelled like sex, and sweat, and Yukhei. 

Maybe if you'd been human, you wouldn't have smelled it. But alas, you weren't, and so your heightened sense of smell painted a picture you didn't want to see. Of Yukhei and some stranger, him on top of her, fucking brutally into her.

"Yes, fuck, right there!" 

You damn near jumped out of your skin, then immediately cringing because… well. How could you describe the nasty feeling building suddenly in the pit of your stomach? It wasn't disgust. It wasn't… no. It couldn't be jealousy. Could it have been a mix of the two? 

You couldn't be sure.

And that was only the first time it'd happened. Soon enough, it was happening two or three times a week.

You suddenly started spending more time away from the apartment. Be it at the library, at the café right off campus, at your best friend Mark's apartment. 

But at night, you were on your own, having to listen to Yukhei plow a seemingly endless array of girls into his mattress while you were either studying or trying to sleep. 

Your girlfriends still lived at the college dorms, and there wouldn't be enough space for you there. You didn't want to impose on Mark, since you were already spending most of your day with him and he shared his apartment with four other guys. You certainly didn't want to ask to sleep over at Taemin's, not after what Jongin had told you.

You were more or less trapped in your apartment past nine PM. You wondered if this was how Fiona felt in the first Shrek film when she couldn't go outside at night.

Yukhei was loud, you came to learn. He groaned, he grunted, he growled. He had a filthy vocabulary and, if you were to go by what the girl he'd brought home past Thursday said, leaving out all the gory details, he was very… well endowed. 

You still weren't quite sure how to feel about constantly having to hear him from across the hall. You weren't judging him, not at all. It was none of your business, and as he'd so rudely put it, he didn't owe you an explanation.

But with exams rolling around, and stress starting to build up, you were disappointed, but not surprised to realize that your sexual frustration was doing the same. And Yukhei, with his pretty face, broad shoulders, foul mouth and maddening scent, was not doing you any favors by practically acting out porn across the hallway. 

Even worse? Mating season was approaching. 

The actual duration of heats and ruts for all hybrids varied, but a grand majority of hybrids went through them during the first few weeks of winter, regardless of whether they were predators or prey. 

So while it pained you to say it, Yukhei’s across the hall antics were not doing you any favors. You found yourself lying awake on a Saturday at one in the morning, after a particularly rough Friday. Meanwhile he was with yet another girl, listening to him dirty talk her to high heaven. You had your eyes closed, trying to sleep in the dark of your bedroom, but it wasn’t easy given what was going on.

If you hadn’t been in a sleep deprived delirium, you wouldn’t have allowed your mind to drift to Yukhei, or to focus on the vulgar words he was saying. His words were muffled by the walls, but it was still pretty easy for you to hear them, ears perking up as you did.

“Yeah, baby, you love my cock, don’t you?”

If you hadn’t been so tired, you would have put in some headphones and listened to some soft music until you were able to fall asleep, instead of letting your breath hitch while your sleepy mind conjured an image of a sweaty Yukhei on top of you, doing to you what he’d been doing to the entire campus.

“So fucking tight around me…”

And you definitely wouldn’t have stuck your hand down your pants, with one hand, covering your mouth with the other. But you did, imagining that it was Yukhei’s fingers and not yours pinching at your clit, teasing around your slit, feeling yourself get wet with every passing second. Hard to do, considering Yukhei’s fingers were so much longer than yours were, and you clenched around nothing at the thought of his pretty hands and how deep they could reach inside of you.

You opened your legs a little more, eyes fluttering shut as your index finger delved inside of you, stifling a quiet moan. Even in your sleepy haze your mind told you not to be too loud, because you knew that Yukhei could end up hearing it, and you didn’t want to seem like a creep after everything that had already happened. Slowly, you built up to a speed that you felt went well with the sound of skin against skin.

“Fuck, baby, you gonna come soon? I’m so close...”

Your breathing turned heavy, and suddenly the sheets were too hot, kicking them off of you before adding in a second finger, relishing in the stretch and the way your palm rubbed against your clit in a deliciously frustrating way. You hesitated briefly before adding a third finger, searching desperately for a spot that would cause you to see stars before they cramped up too bad.

When you did manage to find it, your body curled in on itself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. So embarrassingly fast, you felt yourself nearing climax, listening as the moans and groans escalated in pitch and in volume. You pulled your other hand away from your mouth to rub at your clit, and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth tipping open in silent moans. You prayed to whatever cosmic force that ruled over the universe in hopes that you wouldn’t make too much noise.

“Shit, shit, I’m c-coming, baby…” You heard him say, before switching to Cantonese to swear, and with that, your orgasm came crashing against you.

Your toes curled, your eyes squeezed shut, and before you could bury your head in your pillow, you squeaked out the softest possible whine, “Yukhei…”

When you came back down, you were quick to fall asleep, ignoring the stickiness in your panties or the smell of sweat permeating your room, too tired to bring yourself to care. 

You didn’t hear the shuffling of feet as Yukhei kicked this girl out of the apartment, too on edge after having heard your whimpering.

After that, Yukhei didn’t bring home any other girls, and you brushed it off as him needing to concentrate for finals. The coming weeks were filled with all nighters, cups of coffee, tears and desperation as you somehow managed to pass all of your classes.

 You and Yukhei continued to practically tiptoe around each other, still not speaking. Now, however, it was more due to a lack of time than anger geared towards each other. Yes, you could still sense animosity when you crossed paths but it was getting… strange. While he almost never spoke, Yukhei’s wide eyes seemed to follow you whenever you passed him.

Now, the apartment had turned silent, rather than tense. You felt like you should anticipate something but you weren’t sure what. Many times, you could feel Yukhei before you saw him, and while before, at the apartment he tended to avoid you like a criminal dodging the law, now you always felt him close, his scent never far from where you were. On campus, you didn’t have that problem, rarely seeing him due to your different majors. But at home, it seemed like you could rarely hide from him. 

Finally, winter break was so close to rolling around, and all you needed to do was take two more exams, and hand in one final paper. Then you were free, and all you needed to do was call up your… friend, Doyoung.

You used the term “friend” very, very loosely. 

Doyoung was the only other rabbit hybrid you trusted enough to spend your heats with, and you really only spoke to him during this time of year. He was kind and soft spoken, and attentive to your needs when you were in heat despite him also being affected by his own rut. He was also insanely good in bed, and not too bad on the eyes either.

He enjoyed your arrangement, and wasn’t looking for anything serious, which you appreciated. This would have been your third heat spent with him.

You called him a week before your heat was due to start, and he swung by your apartment for a quick visit to discuss where you would go, how long your doctor had told you it would last, and generally to just catch up with each other.

Yukhei was out, probably studying with Mark or something. All you knew was that he was out. 

Doyoung was cute. Really cute. His ears, white with black tips were generally stood at attention. His broad shoulders and gummy smile were too much, and even though it was a week before your heat was supposed to start you kind of had to resist jumping his bones when you let him inside. 

You managed, somehow, and he sat down next to you at your small dinner table. 

“So, how’s Lucas?” He asked once all of the details were worked out. You were going to stay at his apartment for the following week.

You pursed your lips, sighing. “He’s, uh… It’s complicated.”

He shook his head, a nervous smile gracing his face.

“What do you mean it’s complicated?”

You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut. “It’s a long story.”

“So? Tell it,” He said, ears twitching, “I’ve got all day.”

So you did. From the treatment, to the mutation, to what Jongin had said, to the shift in his behavior, to the argument, to him bringing random girls home, even including the bit about you masturbating to him that one time. You didn’t spare the details, given that you’d probably had more sex with Doyoung within the span of both of your heats than you’d ever had with all of your previous partners combined. There was no point in being vague.

You worried you might be airing out you and Yukhei’s dirty laundry, but continued anyway. Doyoung was a good guy. He wasn’t going to blab to anyone about it. During your whole tirade, he remained emotionless, nodding along to show he was still listening to you. When you finished, he took a deep breath, ears falling against his head. He blinked a few times.

“Phew,” He whistled, “That’s… a lot. Sounds like he’s going through a tough time.”

You nodded, staring at your hands on your lap. “I know. I want to help him but I’m scared he’s gonna yell at me again and I don’t want to have to push him away even more. I miss him, Doie. I miss my best friend.”

Doyoung offered a sympathetic smile, patting you on the back. “Can I be honest?” His voice was soft, not demanding. You, always appreciative of his candor, nodded. 

“I don’t think you just miss your best friend, Y/N.”

Your head snapped upward to meet his gaze, sympathetic smile still there as he continued to rub up and down your back, now slower.

“No goddamn way,” You denied vehemently, shaking your head, “I don’t like him.”

“You’re right,” Doyoung answered, “You don’t like Yukhei. You’re in love with him.”

You spluttered, looking away as you felt your face heat up. “Y-you can’t really mean that, Doyoung. He’s like—"

“Yeah, yeah, your brother. You’ve told everyone and their mother that. But has it ever occurred to you that when you say that, it's just you trying to convince yourself? I see the way you look at him when I come to pick you up before your heats and you say goodbye to him. Your eyes just light up, and you smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.”

“Well, because he makes me happy, he’s my—”

“Veggie lover’s pizza makes you happy, and I don’t see you smiling at it like it invented modern wi-fi. Yukhei? Y/N, he makes you happy happy. As in, if you were an actual bunny and not 25% bunny, you would be doing binkies around him.”

You gasped. “I would not—!”

“Would too,” He retorted, laughing slightly at your antics, “I swear, the way you talk about him—"

He would have continued, but was interrupted by the sound of the key clicking the apartment door open. Quickly, both of your heads turned to watch as Yukhei entered the apartment, eyes immediately trained on Doyoung. His expression was unreadable, but at the end of the day, both you and Doyoung, prey hybrids till the bitter end, could smell the tension that permeated his signature scent. You exchanged glances with the black haired man, and noted that his ears were standing at attention, just like yours.

 “Uh, hey, man,” Doyoung said with his iconic awkward smile, adding an awkward wave as well, “...Long time no see.” 

Yukhei remained silent for a moment as he took off his jacket, eyes still not leaving the other man. “Hello, Doyoung hyung. How have you been?” His voice was monotone, no discernible emotion in it, and you felt like you wanted the earth to swallow you then and there.

“Uhh…” Doyoung side-eyed you for the briefest second, your eyes flashing between him and Yukhei incessantly. Suddenly, you were on edge, and you knew that it was all because of the six foot tall nuisance that had just interrupted your moment with Doyoung.

“I’m... good. I was actually just about to, uh, head home,” He mumbled, and you furrowed your eyebrows as you turned to look at him, kind of taken aback. He was already getting off the couch, making sure he had everything.

You raised a tentative hand. “Hey, Doyoung—”

“Like I told you earlier, I need to go, uh… feed Jeno’s cat since he’s still out of town.”

“Uh,” You blinked, gaping like a fish, remembering the fact that you’d bumped into Jeno at the convenience store earlier today, “Take care, I guess?”

And then, quickly as Yukhei had come, Doyoung had gone, eyeing the wolf hybrid like he was about to get strangled.

When it was just the two of you, your eyes turned to look at Yukhei, and you huffed, before getting up and walking to your room. You closed your door, picking up your phone as you sat at your desk. 

doyoungie: your roommate is insane 

doyoungie: did you see the way he was looking at me? his scent was also super intimidating, y/n

doyoungie: i cant help you out, i dont feel comfortable given everything going on between the two of u

doyoungie: im really sorry y/n 

doyoungie: please be careful around him

You saw red. You chucked the phone onto your bed, too angry and upset to answer Doyoung in that moment.

Everything going on between you and Yukhei had ruined everything these past months, but this was the icing on the cake. If Doyoung wouldn’t help you, you couldn’t go over to his apartment during your heat. If you couldn’t spend your heat at Doyoung’s apartment, you would have to spend it in the apartment, with Yukhei across the hall. And if Yukhei, a predator hybrid, turned out to go into rut at the same time you, a prey hybrid, went into heat… well. 

It wasn’t even a matter of whether you would end up sleeping with him at one point or not. It was the principle of the thing. Yukhei brought home several girls to fuck and you had turned a blind eye. But god forbid you make plans to fuck someone in your own home. No, no, that was heresy. Highest treason in the land.

You slammed your door open, crossing the hall to stomp into Yukhei’s room. You ripped his door open, seething with anger. He turned in surprise, eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, what—”

“Fuck you, Wong Yukhei,” You spat, getting straight to the point. He opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows turned downwards as he observed your angry frame. But you didn’t let him. 

“How fucking dare you. I said jack shit when you brought home all of those girls. But no, every single time I get close to another guy you put on a pissy face and puff out your chest and scare them away. What gives you the fucking right?”

He scoffed, then gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not my fault your prey hybrid boy toy can’t handle being looked at for more than five seconds.”

Your mouth fell open, glaring at him. You couldn’t believe the way he’d said the words ‘prey hybrid’ like it was something shameful. “What, do you have a problem with us prey hybrids now, or...?”

“Please,” He growled, “You’re always the one who was so willing to push predator hybrids away.”

“You of all people should know why.”

He took a step towards you, eyes meeting yours before looking at the floor. “Of course I did. And that’s why I pushed you away.”

You stared at him, incredulous at his sudden quietness. “No. Don’t you dare spin this as some little ‘woe is me’ sob story. You ghosted me. You treated me like I was trash. Maybe you didn’t want to worry me with this whole thing, which is more on par with the Lucas I know. But my Lucas, my Xuxi, would never have taken it that far.”

“Did it ever occur to you that your stupid little Xuxi isn’t coming back!?” He yelled suddenly, and your eyes widened at his display of anger. He took notice and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, and lowered his voice. 

 Y/N, this entire thing,” He huffed, gesturing to his ears and tail, which was now swishing back and forth restlessly, “It changed me too much."

"Yukhei…"

"You think I didn't want to keep being your Xuxi? T-that I didn't want to pretend that everything was normal and keep patting your head and hugging you in the morning and calling you bunny?" 

Your demeanor faltered, and your heart sank. This wasn't how you wanted this conversation to go.

"Yukhei."

He stepped closer, and you swallowed at his sudden proximity. "I feel this… need. Inside of me. Almost all of the time, but it's strongest when you're close to me. And I don't know what it is, but every time I look at you, I want to…"

"Yukhei," you mumbled dizzily as he took another step forward, basically forcing you up against the wall. You could feel his breath on your skin as he peered down at you, eyes melancholy. He looked lonely. You felt lonely.

"I want to… God, let me kiss you."

Your breath left your body, and before you could give it a second thought, you were tilting your head, eyes falling shut as he pressed his lips to yours.

Immediately, you stood on the tips of your toes to meet him easier, and his hands cupped your face before moving to your back, and then finally splaying possessively around your waist. 

The kiss was urgent, desperate; Yukhei kissed you as if he were dying and you felt the need to match his desperation. As your lips locked against each other's, Yukhei's body stepped closer to yours, his torso now pressed against yours. Your arms rose to his broad shoulders, wrapping around his neck, releasing a whimper when he pressed his tongue into your mouth.

Your stomach lurched when he used his thigh to separate yours, hands trailing down to grasp at your thighs. He pulled away from your lips, trailing to your jaw, and you whimpered, hands combing through his hair. Lower his mouth went, planting open mouthed kisses along your neck, and you felt a fire in your stomach, readying you to submit to him.

Submit?

Your eyes shot open, and your heart dropped, and as you realized what he had said, how he had said it, you were pushing him off of you. He stumbled back, chest heaving, eyes scared, lips swollen and pink. He seemed to have realized what he’d done. “Y/N, I didn’t mean t—”

“No.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, clenching your jaw. “I came here to say that I was tired of being treated like your property when all I’ve ever been is your friend. You turned it around and used that tone with me and you used it to kiss me. I-I can’t, Yukhei. Why would you even—”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened as you met his, and you slumped against the wall, inhaling sharply. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. He took this as his cue to continue, eyes pleading and apologetic as he leaned against his desk, giving you the space you suddenly needed.

“That’s no excuse, I know that. It’s literally the worst possible excuse I could give you. I don’t know how to control this thing yet and I’m… Y/N, I’m scared that I’ll hurt you with my words or all of this strength I now have combined with instincts I don’t understand and it terrifies me. And now, with this whole mating season thing coming I feel them even stronger and I...”

“Yukhei, you’re not making any sense,” You said, voice barely above a whisper. He looked up, eyes suddenly teary. 

“How can I make my thoughts make sense when you’re the only thing on my mind right now?”

You pursed your lips, eyes squeezing shut. Your stomach swirled and your mind was jumbled, unsure what to tell him. 

“Yukhei, what are your instincts even telling you?” 

He shook his head, expression agitated as he looked you up and down. Finally, his eyes landed on your neck, and he groaned, shoving his face into his hands. 

“I can’t hurt you, Y/N. I would never forgive myself if I did.”

Your breath hitched, heart rate beginning to pick up. “Yukhei, I need you to tell me what is going on with you. Then, we can call Taemin and he—he’ll figure something out.”

“I need to bite you. A-and you need to leave, so I can leave before I do something I regret.”

“Yukhei, hold on a second—”

“Y/N,” He growled, and you felt all of the hairs on your head stand straight up, animal instincts going haywire, “Leave.” 

Even if he hadn’t used that tone with you, you would have done so. And you did, bolting out of his room, quickly grabbing your phone from your room and then darting out of the apartment, out of the building and somewhere onto the street, legs shaking and heart broken.

You ran for several blocks, stopping once you felt comfortable, which just so happened to be in front of a cafe a few minutes from your apartment. You went in and ordered, sitting at a table in the window, staring blankly at the cup in front of you. You felt numb. Yukhei was making absolutely no sense, and your thoughts were too jumbled for you to try and decipher what he was trying to tell you. There was only one thing that you could make sense of.

Because I’m in love with you. 

God, you wanted to slam your head into the table, his words echoing in your head. He’d looked so candid, so vulnerable, so scared saying those six words, that it honestly kind of petrified you. After everything you’d thought about, everything you’d been told, and everything you’d said to each other, you were being forced with the truth, and you honestly weren’t sure if you could handle it.

Yes, you loved Yukhei. But what best friend doesn’t love their best friend? There was such a difference between loving and being in love, but in that moment you couldn’t be sure of any. 

Yukhei had always been there for you. He understood your boundaries, understood that you wanted to be an independent person, but wasn’t afraid to support you if he felt you needed it. Whenever you were sad, or frustrated, he was there. And vice versa. You understood that Yukhei, despite his intimidating looks, muscles and tall frame was just a gentle giant, sometimes not confrontational enough to stand up for himself. And yes, he was confident, but you knew that deep down he would always feel like he wasn’t good enough, just a little bit. And whenever that feeling became too heavy for him to carry, you’d be the one to pick him up and help him carry the weight.

Your mutual understanding of each other went so much more than just finishing each other’s sentences sometimes. With a simple movement, both of you could tell whether the other was upset, or excited, or angry. 

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee.

Yukhei was kind, and he didn’t worry about what problems he might have in the future. He was funny, sometimes making you laugh till you cried because it was just an innate talent of his. And fuck’s sake, he was hot. And you… you, the worrisome, blunt hybrid who trailed behind him because he lit up your days, you were…

Oh my god. I’m in love with Yukhei.

You spluttered, immediately coughing as you choked on your coffee, attracting the attention of the people around you. It took you awhile, but you eventually managed to catch your breath, avoiding the questioning gazes of everyone around you. You were left with your head spinning, foot tapping anxiously. 

You needed to get back to the apartment.

You paid for the unfinished cup of coffee in a hassle, and ran back up the street as fast as your legs could carry you. You realized that all of the running you’d been doing meant your hair would be frizzy and you would smell like sweat once you got back, but you couldn’t care less.

 All you needed was to see him.

If you’d been able to talk him down from his own thoughts before, like that day in the bathroom and times before that, if you’d been able to get through to him before, it wouldn’t be that hard now, would it? You needed to know he was okay and that he knew that everything would work out in the end. 

You dashed onto your street, mind filled with only Yukhei and his wellbeing, for once being a bit reckless when it came to your own safety. Yes, he’d told you to leave. But that didn’t matter anymore, you thought as you rushed into the building and pulled yourself into the elevator. He was your only concern, now.

Your heart pounded as you stood in the elevator. Your leg never ceased its insistent tapping. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the doors to slide open. It took an eternity, but finally, you heard a ding! And when the doors opened, you bolted. You ran down the hall, reaching your door before you pulled out your key and unlocked the door, not thinking twice before swinging it open.

“Yukhei!?”

Your loud, breathless voice rang out through the apartment, but there was no response. As you caught your breath, you noted that the scent of cinnamon and earth was still there, but faint, as if Yukhei had vanished into thin air. Your heart sank.

“Yukhei?” You asked again, voice now quieter as you realized that he was probably gone. Your face fell, and part of you began to wonder why you even expected him to still be here.  

Walking towards his room, where the trace of his scent was strongest, you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, silently asking yourself where you would go from here. The vibration of your phone caught your attention, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see what the notification was. Your eyes softened at seeing Yukhei’s contact name grace your screen, but your gaze quickly turned gloomy when you saw how long his text was. That was never a good thing.

xuxi: Hey. I’m sorry about everything that just happened, and for scaring you like that. I’m gonna be staying at Taemin hyung’s until your heat passes. I don’t know how long that is, but I know it was supposed to start sometime next week? I want to keep distance from you until either hyung or I can understand what’s going on with me, and I don’t want to do or say anything that’s gonna damage our friendship. Please don’t worry about me, Y/N. I’m fine. Don’t think that I think you can’t be around other guys, because I don’t. I want you to be happy. And if you feel like you never want to see me once this is all over, then I’ll totally understand. I’ve been an asshole and I treated you horribly because I was acting selfishly. Take care.

You slumped against the wall, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. 

How on earth did everything get this messed up?

The last few days before winter break were miserable. You spent the rest of that night after the argument with Yukhei crying out of frustration at the situation, falling asleep with puffy eyes and a runny nose. Eventually, however, you had to force yourself out of your pity party, because despite everything going on, you still had two exams to study for and a paper to turn in. 

Your paper was going to turn out mediocre, at best. You simply couldn’t put your heart into it despite the fact that it was 10% of your final grade for the semester. Thankfully, it was due Friday, and the first exam was on Monday and the other on Tuesday, leaving you a full three days to finish it, and you’d done pretty well in the subject all semester, so if you flubbed the paper, it wouldn’t be so bad. 

As for your exams, they weren’t your best, but you’d live. Exams this late were always hellish for you, because on top of all of the stress, your pre-heat symptoms were starting to set in. You felt tired, sluggish, and irritable. 

You thought of Yukhei almost all week during what little free time you got. You didn't see him on campus all week, but you knew from texting Taemin that he was still going. According to him, he wasn’t talking to anyone much. Not even Baekhyun could cheer him up, and Yukhei loved Baekhyun’s jokes.

You never responded to the long text Yukhei had sent you. You weren’t sure what to say, and after a certain amount of days had passed it just felt awkward to try and respond to him. 

Finally, Friday rolled around, and you strolled onto campus, ready to hand in your paper, go to your last few lectures, and then buy yourself some snacks to prepare to hole up in your apartment for a week during your heat. You wished you could just turn it in online, but this professor was probably as old as the university itself, and still preferred doing things the old fashioned way.

You sat down next to Mark right before your history lecture, about two hours before your paper was supposed to be turned in. 

“Hey, how have you been?” Mark asked, and you shrugged. 

“I’m pretty much over everything,” You sighed, “All I need is to turn in my paper to Wang and I’m out of here.”

“Can I see?” He asked. “Mine sucks and I wanted to compare.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” You answered, turning to open your bag. You rummaged through it, looking between your notes, laptop, and old pieces of paper, before frowning. 

“No fucking way,” You muttered to yourself, looking through the contents of your bag again, now more frantic. 

“What? Do you not have it?”

“No,” You answered, turning to him, sounding desperate. “I think I left it on my desk this morning. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Why don’t you just go get it?” Mark said, tilting his head. “Your place isn’t that far.”

You eyed the professor, who was preparing his presentation before the class started, weighing your options.

“...You’re right. I’ll be back in like, half an hour.”

And so you set off, power walking back to your apartment, which was right off campus. When you got to your building, you stepped into the elevator and heard your phone ring. You looked at who was calling first, furrowing your eyebrows. Hesitantly, you picked up.

“Taem? What’s up?” You asked, looking through your bag for your keys.

“Hey, Y/N.” Taemin sounded anxious, and it didn’t do anything to dissipate your confusion. “I just wanted to let you know that Yukhei said he would be passing by the apartment to get some more clothes, but uh… I forgot to ask him what time, and now he isn’t answering my texts or my calls. He was acting kind of… weird this morning. He didn’t say anything to you, did he?”

You blinked, swallowing at the idea of seeing him again after not having said anything to each other. Suddenly, your heart seemed to be beating a lot faster than it had been a second ago. “Um. No. He didn’t. But um… thanks for letting me know. I’ll just be going—” 

“Wait, Y/N!”

“Taemin, what?”

“Have you ever heard of Tanaka’s Theory of Hybrid Compatibility?” He blurted, and you made a face, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“...No?”

The elevator dinged, and you stepped out as he began to explain. 

“I was doing research after running some DNA tests on Yukhei, yesterday, to see if I would be able to gauge whether he’d be going into rut or not. This theory says that two hybrids of different animal types could trigger each other’s mating instincts—”

“Wait, wait, wait, I thought that wasn’t possible—”

“That’s what a lot of people thought, until Tanaka and her team published this study about a year ago. She did an experiment where she paired up hybrids of different animal types, and induced heat in only one of them, to see if it triggered rut or heat in the other hybrid. She concluded that it was possible, but only if the hybrids had already formed a deep emotional bond. Y/N, you and Yukhei…”

You stopped right outside of your apartment, dead in your tracks. “D—Taem. Do you think that could happen if…?”

You didn’t finish, and Taemin sighed. “Yeah,” He said, voice quiet. “I think he might be in the very early stages of rut. Please, please be careful, Y/N.”

You stared at the door, before sighing. “I will, Taemin. Thank you for calling me.”

You hung up, trying to absorb everything you’d just been told. Cautiously, you inserted the key into the lock, trying to be quiet. A chill rolled through your body as you stepped into the apartment. For some reason, it seemed so much more quiet than it usually was. You gulped. Hurriedly, with quiet footsteps, you approached your bedroom. You sighed in relief upon seeing the paper on your desk, and grabbed it, stuffing it carefully into your bag before turning to exit. 

“Hey.”

You shrieked in surprise, your skeleton nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Yukhei in the doorway of his bedroom, staring intently at you. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide like saucers, eyeing you up and down. His body seemed tense. His scent was overpowering. You scrunched your nose once it hit you.

“Y-Yukhei. What are you—Um, how have you been?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” He said, wide eyes never leaving you. You felt like he was studying you, and you squirmed underneath his gaze, “Just peachy. A little hot. What are you doing here?”

His sentences were quick and snippy, as if he were jumpy. You spluttered, gathering your thoughts.

“Oh,” You mumbled, “Um… I forgot my paper on my desk. I needed to come and get it.”

 The entire time, you never stopped looking at him. He seemed poised, ready to strike, looking for the moment he could catch you off guard. You swallowed, trying to step past him, “I need to turn this in later, so I’ll just…”

He grabbed your wrist before you could get out of his arms’ reach, cornering you against the wall. 

“I need to… talk to you,” He muttered, eyes trained on your face.

“Yukhei, you’re kind of freaking me out,” You answered, looking away from his face. Your own face was suddenly hot, animal instincts were screaming at his proximity, at his scent, begging you to either get away or pull him closer. Danger, one side of your brain whispered, while the other said, want.

“Just hear me out,” He answered, deep voice quiet and raspy. “I missed you this week. Missed my bunny.”

You looked away, unsure what to do. 

dangerdangerdangerdangerdanger

He lifted a hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You gasped, realizing that his eyes were a bright yellow. Had they always been that color or was it only now noticeable due to his proximity?

wantwantwantwantwantwant

“Y-Yukhei,” You mumbled again, panting as he brushed his lips against yours.

DANGERDANGERDANGERDANGER

In that moment, your animal instincts took over. What happened next happened in less than ten seconds, but felt like an eternity.

See, when rabbits feel threatened, they bite their attacker. You knew this. Yukhei knew this. So it should’ve been no surprise to either of you when you shifted your neck, quickly striking and giving his neck a harsh bite. Your animal instincts expected him to back off. But instead, he groaned loudly, pressing you even further into the wall, gripping your hips and pressing himself against you. You froze, feeling something hard press against your hip. 

“So you want to bite me too,” He growled, “But I want to bite you harder.”

WANTWANTWANTWANTWANT

You whimpered, as he, agonizingly slowly, pressed his mouth to your neck, baring his teeth. He tugged your head to the side, and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the bite to come, almost welcoming it. 

But it never did. 

Instead, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Yukhei was trembling. 

“I can’t,” He whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You swallowed, realizing what was going on. 

“You won’t,” You answered, matching the tone of his voice. “Xuxi, wolves bite like this to mate, not to attack.”

“Huh?” His amber eyes studied your face, searching for anything other than the uncertainty etched upon it. 

“You’re not biting me to hurt me,” You said, stroking his cheek, “It’s because you wanna mark me as yours.”

“But you’re not mine,” He murmured, still trembling, “You don’t love me the way I love you.” 

You shook your head, head spinning as the heat on your face spread across your body at the sensation of his body against yours.

“Except I do.” Your voice was hoarse. “I love you, Lucas. I realize that now.”

You tilted your head back, revealing the expanse of your neck. He growled in approval as you did. “And I want to be yours, forever.”

He didn’t mark you then. Instead, he craned his neck to catch your lips with his. You cried out softly when he did, his hands coming down to lift one of your legs, wrapping it around his hip. 

“Jump,” He said into the kiss, and you did, without question. The feeling of uneasiness, of danger, melted away, leaving you only with want. He dragged you back to his room, tossing you onto his bed with ease. 

You whimpered as you let him go, now fully aware that you’d entered your heat, and you wouldn’t be satiated until he made you cum. You watched, as he stared down at you with a predatory gaze—go figure—pulling off the t-shirt he was wearing. He crawled on top of you, not saying a word before he kissed you again. 

Your hands roamed, tracing down his back and up your sides as he squeezed your thighs with his large hands, sliding up the skirt you were wearing. 

“Please don’t tease,” You whined between kisses, “N-need you.”

“My bunny needs me?” He asked, chest rumbling with pride, and you nodded. He tugged off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and your skirt. He pressed a kiss to your neck, before inhaling deeply and groaning. 

“God, is this what you smell like when you’re in heat?” His voice was raspy, lustful; you felt punch drunk at the sound of it. “You smell fucking divine.” You nodded, reaching for the button on his jeans. You didn’t trust your voice.

“Bunny, you’re on the pill, right?” He asked suddenly, sounding a lot more sober than he had just a few seconds ago. Your eyes darted up to his face, noting his ears twitching nervously. You nodded. “Y-yeah, why?”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, before lowering his mouth to your ear. “Because as much as I want to pump you full of my pups right now, I know you probably don’t want that for us now.”

God, he was the human definition of whiplash. You straight up moaned at the idea, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled his pants down. “S-sounds good on paper. R-really good,” You declared, “But in practice… Not right now.”

He nodded, smiling softly. You realized he was wagging his tail, and you smiled gleefully. “Anything for my bunny.” 

Yukhei pressed another kiss to your temple, before pulling your skirt down, hands kneading at your newly exposed flesh. You lifted yourself off of the mattress to press wet kisses to his collarbone, ignoring the desperation beneath your skin. Still, your mind screamed.

WANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANT

“Xuxi,” You said, “Please hurry and fuck me already.”

“I don’t wanna wait either,” He admitted, grinning wolfishly. With not another word, he pulled your panties to the side, and slowly pressed a finger inside. 

Your breath hitched, feeling like when you scratch at an itch, but can’t find the exact spot. Content, but not yet satisfied. 

“You’re so wet,” He mumbled, “All of this is for me, right, Y/N?”

You nodded insistently, legs spreading further to allow him enough space. He was so big, nearly engulfing you as he hovered over you. And his fingers were so long, reaching far further than your fingers could when you pretended yours were his. 

“Lucas…” Your voice was high, breathless, “More, please.”

"So needy for me, hm?" Yukhei chuckled darkly, adding another finger. His smile grew when you tightened around him. "Tell me what you want, bunny." 

"Fuck," You groaned, "I want you to fuck me and make me yours. W-want to be stuffed and filled with your cum. Want y-your pups, wanna be yours."

His amber eyes glowed in admiration, peering down at you. "Fuck, that's a good girl." 

He tugged off your bra, but got a little too impatient when he got to your panties, and you gasped in surprise when you felt the seams snap. Your eyes darted to Lucas's hands, which were now holding the broken fabric with a smug look on his face.

"Oops."

You huffed, not caring about the underwear. Lifting yourself off of the mattress, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he responded with fervor. His tongue dipped into your mouth, swallowing your eager moans. In your eagerness, you reached into his underwear, wrapping your hand around his member. 

You gasped into the kiss, feeling how hard he was. Even without looking, eyes still shut as you focused mostly on kissing him, you could feel he was big. You wondered, momentarily, if he would even fit. Yukhei pulled away from you, lowering his eyes to watch your hand stroking him. You did as well, swallowing at the sight. He wasn’t too thick, but he was incredibly long. The tip was a pretty shade of red, precum leaking steadily out.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, mouth brushing against yours, panting slightly.

You nodded, canting your hips in an attempt to entice him. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, brushing against your clit intentionally. You keened, looking up at him. 

“Yeah, baby,” You answered, pushing him away slightly, to turn around, and prop yourself onto your knees. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, one finger teasing at your hole. He came closer to you, and his free hand pulled you up. His chest was pressed against your back. He pressed a kiss to one of your shoulder blades, resting his head on his shoulder to speak to you.  

“One day, I’m gonna sit you down on my face and eat you until you forget your name. But right now, I can’t hold back anymore. Need to be inside of you.”

You nodded in agreement, bated as he gripped one of your hips, the other nudging you gently between the shoulder blades, so your face was buried between the pillows. You inhaled, whining lightly at how much it smelled like him, like Yukhei. 

“All mine,” He growled, sliding inside of you. He was met with no resistance, your walls sucking him in with no protest.

“Yours,” You agreed, rocking your hips lightly against his. He groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly. 

“S-so tight,” He groaned, with a little laugh, “I can barely move.”

“Please, Xuxi,” You whined, voice muffled, “N-need it.”

His grip tightened, and he gave a hard thrust, to which you responded with a loud noise. He immediately set a brutal pace. He bent over, practically covering your body with his own. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his grunts and growls right into your ear.

Your hand reached behind you, trying to grab him in some way. He registered what you were trying to do, and reached out to take your hand in his. “Who’s making you feel this good, bunny?”

“Ah, you, Lucas,” You cried, and Yukhei pressed a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

“You think Doyoung could fuck you this good, baby?”

Your stomach curled at his words, and you shook your head. “N-no,” You said, hips bucking back to meet his. “Don’t want him, want you.” 

“F-fuck, that’s my girl, you just wanna be mine, huh?”

You nodded, unable to answer at the pleasure coursing through your veins. Yukhei wasn’t satisfied by this, evident in the way he tugged on your hair and pulled your head up. You shrieked not only at the pleasure, but also how unexpected it was. Yukhei was always one to be gentle, but now, with the need he felt to fuck you until you were both satiated, all of his mercy went out the window. 

“Use your fucking words,” Yukhei snarled, hips never letting up. You whimpered, eyes closing.

This wasn’t Yukhei, or Lucas, or Xuxi. No, this was pure, unbridled, alpha wolf taking the reins. And in this moment, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Y-yeah, I want you to make me yours,” You answered in a small, shaky voice.

“You wanna be my bitch, baby?”

“Fuck,” You moaned, pussy clenching at his question, “Please…”

“Please what, bunny?” The wolf asked, voice sickly sweet, and you bit your lip, trying not to cry out. “P-please make me your bitch, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder again, letting go of your hair. You fell back onto the mattress, practically boneless; you couldn’t find it within you to hold yourself up. His hands found their way back to your hips, using them as leverage as he pounded into you.

“What my bitch wants, my bitch gets.”

His hips sped up, something you didn’t know was possible. You were vaguely aware of his headboard ramming into the wall, but you couldn’t care less. All you could care about was the growing pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, which only boiled hotter when you reached between your legs to pinch at your clit.

Yukhei groaned at the same moment you did, relishing in the way your walls clenched at the sensation.

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” He said. You craned your neck to get a good look at him, chest tightening at the sight.

His tan skin glowed with sweat, eyes rolled up into his head, mouth open as he let loose grunts and groans, and his light brown hair was matted with sweat. The dark ears on his head were twitching furiously and his cheeks were flushed. You felt like you could have cum from the sight alone.

 Could have, because the awkward angle made your neck hurt, and it pained you to not be able to touch his skin or tug on his hair. 

Yukhei opened his eyes immediately when you muttered out a soft, “stop, stop,” his hips stopping much to his discomfort. He sighed in relief when he realized you just wanted to change your position. You whined softly in discomfort when his cock slipped out of you, shaky legs doing their best to maneuver into the position you wanted.

You flopped down onto your back in front of him, staring up at him. “Come on,” You said breathlessly, parting your legs, “You know what I want you to do.”

He exhaled, eyes scanning your sweaty body, taking in just how beautiful you looked beneath him. “Fuck, I love you so much,” He declared, settling in between your legs, slipping back into you with ease.

You took advantage of the position, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. Your hands wrapped around him, reaching for his back. You dug your nails into the skin, and he huffed slightly at the pinch of pain.

He growled with pride when his eyes darted down to where you were connected. “Fuck, that’s so hot, bunny. You’re so fucking tiny.”

Your eyes followed his, and you whined when you realized that there was a bulge sticking out of your tummy. 

He immediately retook his rhythm, pounding away like there was no tomorrow, voice getting louder. It was still a bit far, but you could tell he was approaching his high, just like you. He was pressing wet kisses to your breasts, large hands groping them. Your head fell back, mind completely blank.  

“X-Xuxi, I’m c-close,” You mumbled, “Please touch me.”

He nodded, lifting off of one of your nipples to meet your eyes. “Shit, me too,” He agreed, voice shaky. His lips travelled to your neck, one hand travelling to your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back to reveal more of the skin of your neck. 

“Gonna make you mine,” He growled, “Gonna fuck you full of my pups, show everyone who you belong to.”

His hips were losing their finesse, their rhythm, pace turning sloppy as his hand rubbed at your clit, hoping to make you cum.

“Yes, yes, yes,” You cried nonsensically, toes curling. “Make me yours, Lucas, ah, fuck, w-want it so bad!”

And then he sunk his teeth into your neck, and you tumbled over the edge, a lot harder than you ever expected it to be. You were drowning in a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain, vision blurring as your body writhed against Yukhei like a woman possessed. You cried out his name one final time, voice dying after you did. 

You heard him groan against you, hips grinding against you as he released inside of you. Your mind immediately realized what was going on as his cock swelled within your walls, eyes snapping open as the sheer size of his knot caused you to cry out. Whether that was from the burn of being stretched beyond your limits, or the satisfaction of stuffed with him. 

 You were wordless when you managed to come down, breathing heavily, his head resting on your collar bone. The need that had been itching inside of you had gone away, for now. Your mind cleared up, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that Yukhei was naked, on top of you, and now the two of you were stuck together for god knows how long. The few words you had exchanged prior were under the influence of his rut and, subsequently, your heat, and even before that, an argument that led to you not speaking to each other for a week.

"So…" You muttered, voice hoarse.

"Uhh…" Lucas lifted his head, tired eyes meeting yours. They were back to brown. "I take this as an 'apology accepted'?" 

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm playfully. "You're not completely out of the woods yet, asshole. You were a huge dick. But what matters now is that we're together, and I love you. We can work the rest out later."

Yukhei's hand brushed a stray hair out of your face, smiling softly at you. "I don't deserve you," He murmured, "But I promise I'll do my best to treat you like a queen." 

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'd like that."

You both fell asleep slightly after, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a better tomorrow into each other's ears.

And when Taemin—who had worried about Yukhei not coming back to his apartment got worried enough to use your hidden spare key to get into the apartment—woke you up, screeching at the "ungodly sight" of your naked bodies pressed against one another, you laughed, despite Yukhei's possessive instincts kicking in and covering your body with his.

Because you finally had Yukhei in your arms, and, regardless of whether he's got fluffy ears and a tail or not, you were happy to call yourself his.

[cloudy-minded-idiot]

secrets

pairing: Shuri x reader

warnings: none that I could think of

word count: ~2,200 words

a/n: requested by @junajackson. sorry that it took me so long to write this! between uni and having to evacuate my appartment for a while, I really didn’t have a lot of freetime to write. I hope you like it :)

summary: shuri comes to visit the avengers compound, and your teammates dicover that you’ve been secretly dating the Wakandan princess for a while now. 

The sun was already starting to rise by the time you returned to the compound, bathing the sky in a light pink hue. It was a pretty sight for your sore eyes. You felt drained, the way you often did after a mission. You had been gone for almost a week without being able to contact anyone, getting very little sleep as you had to fight your way out of one mess after the other. Ultimately, the mission was a success but exhausted as you were, you didn’t have it in you to celebrate.  

You were welcomed back by an agent who briefly reminded you when your mission report would be due. You muttered out a confirmation and made a beeline for your room, stripping yourself from your dirty clothes and jumping under the shower. Cleaning up made you feel a lot better, and the warm water did wonders for your aching muscles. Dressed in something comfortable, you walked to your bedroom, ready to call it a day and catch some sleep. You had barely covered yourself with a blanket when a disembodied voice interrupted the tranquility of your room.  

“Mr. Stark has requested your presence in the common room.”  

Burying your head in your pillow, you let out a groan.  

“Do I have to?”  

Even to your own ears, your voice sounded whiney. The AI refrained from commenting on that, though.  

“Mr. Stark is giving you five minutes to get to the common room and advises you to make yourself look presentable.”  

Grumbling out some incoherent swear words, you stumbled out of bed and slowly got changed and pulled on some shoes. After assuring your hair looked alright, you made the small track to the common room. Tony looked up when you entered but, seeing your glare, refrained from making whatever stupid comment he had on the tip of his tongue.  

Silently he passed you a cup of coffee which you received with a grateful nod. Taking a sip of the dark fluid, you let its warmth and the caffeine wash over you.  

“How was your mission?” Tony asked tentatively, almost as if scared you would snap at him. 

“Long and exhausting. I had to ditch my phone and comms the first day and barely had time to sleep or eat,” you took another long sip of your drink before throwing him a side glance, “I really hope for the sake of you that this is important.”  

Tony was quick to assure you that it was, perhaps fearing that you would lose your cool otherwise. And yes, you were tired, but you were not irrational. The worst you would do is hit him in the arm and cuss him out, maybe prank him, later on, to get even.  

“Important visitors are arriving from Wakanda today. We’re doing a bit of collaborative work on a new suit, improve some of my technology, etcetera. I need someone to show them around while I’m at a meeting with Fury. Think you’re up for that?”  

You visibly perked up once you heard about Wakanda. You were more than familiar with their technology. After all, you were dating the head of their science and information department, although Tony didn’t know that. No one on the team did. After all, it hadn’t been until very recently that Wakanda decided to open up to the world and share its knowledge and technology. So, naturally, secrecy had to be part of the deal at the beginning of your relationship. And since then, you had just never found the time or the opportunity to broach the subject.  

“I think I'll manage.”  

Tony patted your shoulder with a grateful nod.  

“Good. I know you’re tired, but I'll owe you one after this,” he said, distractedly checking his watch as he spoke, “I gotta run. Can’t keep Fury waiting any longer. Tell the Wakandans I'll be back by lunchtime. Keep them entertained until then, alright?”  

At your affirmation, Tony thanked you and left you alone in the common room. You made yourself a second cup of coffee, already feeling better than before. That might also have something to do with the excitement of knowing your girlfriend might be coming to visit. After all, she was the head of the technology and information exchange program, so it would only make sense for her to be the one arriving today.  

When FRIDAY alerted you that the Wakandan jet was preparing to land, you were out of your seat and down at the landing lane in no time. Some agents threw you weird looks, but you couldn’t care less. The plane had just shut off its engine when you arrived, waiting a couple of feet away to leave enough space for the small boarding ramp.  

First to step off the jet, were two Dora Milaje carrying their standard sonic spear and serious expressions. The two warriors remained at either side of the door, eyeing the terrain with watchful eyes. Your own were fixed on the door while practically bouncing on the back of your feet in anticipation. As soon as you recognized the silhouette of your girlfriend in the doorway, you couldn’t help the big goofy smile that came to your face.  

Her eyes trailed over the small airport before finally landing on you. Face lighting up, she matched your grin with one of her own. It had been so long since you had last seen Shuri in person, your heart stammered a bit just at the sight of her. The Wakandan princess quickly descended the ramp, immediately engulfing you in a hug that you returned just as fiercely.  

“I was not sure you would be here when I arrived,” she admitted, releasing you just enough so that she could really look at your face, “I haven’t heard from you since you left for your mission a week ago.”  

She gave you a playfully reproachful look, causing you to grimaced sheepishly.  

“I just came back an hour ago. I would have called, but sadly my phone was one of the few casualties of my mission. Anyways,” stepping back a little, you cleared your throat and jokingly bowed slightly before your girlfriend, continuing in a mockingly formal tone.  

“Princess Shuri, I have the honor to officially welcome you and the Dora Milaje to the Avengers Compound. Sadly, Mr. Stark will not be available for the next hours. Until then, I can offer you a tour of the parameters, if you like?”  

You held out your hand in silent offer.  

She bowed her head in thanks, lightly putting her hand on yours.  

“Why thank you, we would appreciate that very much.”  

Unable to keep up the show any longer, you both started to giggle before you motioned for her to come along.cHolding hands, you walked her through the most important parts of the compound, ending the tour in the main lab that Tony liked to use. Shuri looked around with an appraising gaze, silently evaluating the different pieces of equipment and machinery as you leaned against the table in the center of the room.

“Not as good as what I have at home, but it will do,” was her verdict, and you laughed slightly.  

“Don’t tell Tony that, or he might be tempted to renovate again. He likes to pride himself on having the best of everything.”  

“Oh, but he has already admitted that I have the better tech, has he not? Or I wouldn’t be here.”  

“True,” you conceded, “So what do you guys have planned? You’re not going to make him a vibranium suit, are you?”  

She shook her head, joining you on your side of the table, “We were more thinking along the line of nanotechnology. Something like my brother's Black Panther suit. Easy to carry around, quick to put on. Much more practical.”  

You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to sound nonchalant as you asked your next question.  

“So, how long do you suppose this would take?”

She hummed, taking a couple of steps closer to you.  

“Two, three days at most,” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your closer, “But for you, I might stretch it out a little. Give us more time together.”  

You smiled adoringly at her, leaning in to press a long kiss to her lips. She returned it eagerly, letting out a content sigh. You really had missed her, more than you could ever put into words. And obviously, that sentiment was shared. After a few moments, you pulled apart to catch your breath, resting your foreheads together, breath mingling in the space between you. You stayed like that for a while, just content to hold each other and be close again.  

“Almost forgot, I have something for you,” she whispered after a minute, releasing you to reach into her pocket.  

“Oh, uh, I didn’t get you any gifts,” you muttered out, a bit embarrassed. She dismissed your worry with a shake of her head. Taking your hand in hers, she slid something onto your wrist. Shuri watched you with anticipation as you slowly realized what it was.  

“You made me a Kimoyo bracelet?”  

Your eyes were probably wide as saucers, a finger tentatively trailing over the engravings on the vibranium beads. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her nod.  

“It’s easier for me to contact you with this than on one of your old school grandpa phones, and I thought it might be useful to you on your missions. It’s no big deal, really.”  

She shrugged at the end, trying to play this gesture off. You looked up at her in wonder, quite aware that despite her words, this was, in fact, quite a big deal. For one, vibranium was really expensive. For another, Wakandans weren’t known for just handing out Kimoyo beads to anyone. This not only demonstrated how much she trusted you but also that she believed that the two of you were in this for the long run. Your adoration must have shown on your face because Shuri immediately groaned.  

“Oh no, I know that look. Don’t you start getting sentimental on me,” she warned you without any malice. You smiled at her softly, unable to do anything about your expression.  

“I won’t, I promise.”  

She rolled her eyes playfully, overdramatically throwing her hands up in the air.  

“You’re already doing it. Alright, I’m outta here.”  

The Wakandan princess turned to go, but you gently took her hand and pulled her back into an embrace.  

“I love you, Shuri,” you told her, your voice conveying all the emotions you felt. Her expression softened at your admission, and she leaned in to give you a small kiss.  

“I love you, too, you big sap.”  

“What's going on here?”  

Both of you blinked in confusion, slowly turning to look at the door without letting go of each other. In the entrance of the lab, staring at you with faces ranging from shock to confusion and surprise, stood Tony, Steve, and Natasha.  

You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up, and slowly let go of Shuri, still keeping one of her hands in yours.  

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?”  

Steve was the one that spoke up, vaguely gesturing towards your girlfriend.  

“We came to formally welcome the Princess.”  

“Looks like Y/n has done enough welcoming for us all,” Natasha muttered, only snickering when Steve sent her a reproachful look for her comment. Tony was still regarding you flabbergasted.  

“You,” Tony took off his ever-present sunglasses motioning between you and Shuri, “And her? Since when?”

“Shuri and I have been dating for almost a year now.”  

“A year?” Tony repeated incredulously

“Back when Wakanda ‘s borders were still closed to the world,” Shuri sonfirmed, “With all the secrecy surrounding our technology, Y/n and I thought it would be best to keep our relationship secret too.”  

“And after that, I just didn’t know how to tell you guys,”  you added sincerely.

Tony looked as though he was about to ask more questions, but luckily Cap intervened, flashing you a smile.  

“Well, I’m happy for you two. You look like you're happy together.”  

Shuri squeezed your hand encouragingly, knowing how nervous you had been, not knowing how the team would react. Having the Captain’s blessing, even if you didn’t really need it, was appreciated.  

“Thanks, Steve.”  

“At least this explains why you’ve been having so many late-night phone calls. Good for you,” Natasha teased you, her words having the desired effect of making you groan in embarrassment.  

“I guess I’m happy for you, too,” Tony admitted reluctantly after being prompted byone of Steve's stern looks, “But I'll be much happier after your girlfriend helps me with my suit. So shoo, out of the lab. Play time's over, let's get working.”  

The billionaire made a motion for you all to leave, Natasha and Steve complying readily, saying their goodbyes to Shuri. Rolling your eyes, you followed his demand as well, but not without leaning in to kiss Shuri’s cheek.  

“I'm beat anyways. I haven’t slept in a minute.”  

She released your hand with one last small squeeze.  

“Get some rest. I'll see you later.”  

You were barely out of the lab when, much to Tony’s dismay, you heard Shuri brag about her own lab's much better equipment. You still had a fond smile on your face by the time you finally laid down in your bed.  

___________________________________________

taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @penparkz​

[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. 

[chastiefoul]

first kiss(es) | itafushi.

word count : 2.045

in which Itadori tell Fushiguro he is cute. very cute.

---

Itadori and Fushiguro had made hanging out together every night a habit. There is hardly any day where they did not go to each other’s room where they did everything and also nothing. Some nights it would be movies, with Itadori spoiling everything unintentionally. Due to the training he just had not so while back ago, he already knew most of the famous movies were all about.

Itadori would like to call it knowledge but Fushiguro had made it perfectly clear that it was just straight up bragging.

Some other nights it’d also be quiet, with the dark-haired male reading and Itadori playing on his phone. Whether it’s loud or the opposite, it’s clear that these guys enjoyed the company of one another.

Though there is also a rare night like this. Where they both somehow laying on the bed with nothing to do, the sliding door that led outside opened a bit on purpose, just to let enough wind went in. Itadori would sneak a hand to Fushiguro’s raven locks, tracing his finger slightly along the strand of hair. Physical contact wasn’t something the younger male was familiar with at all but unless you had confronted him about this, not once Fushiguro had ever complained the subtle gesture.

Not that he should.

Itadori drew his hand back just to get something out of the boy beside him. Fushiguro that had been closing his eyes for the entire time turned his expression into somewhat of a discontent when the hand that was on his head was no longer there. It did not went unnoticed for Itadori as he chuckled softly,

“You know Fushiguro, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.. But you’re really cute aren’t you?” The salmon-haired man grinned, his eyes glistened with a slight obvious adoration, except of course not really to the oblivious friend of his. At this Fushiguro raised an eyebrow, annoyed. “Haah?” He said, displeasured, though if it wasn’t for the minimum light, it could be seen that Fushiguro’s face has been tinted with the color pink of embarrassment.

“See? That’s cute.” Itadori continued, still smiling. Clearly seeing how happy Itadori was teasing him, Fushiguro turned his back, sulking. “Shut up,” he mumbled incoherently with whatever little amount fight left in him.

“Still cute,” Itadori smiled yet again. “Honestly, you-“ Before Fushiguro’s complaint even reached its end, Itadori grabbed the shikigami user’s shoulder, and pinned him down against the bed. The gesture was perfect in timing, it was not rough nor it’s uncomfortable, it’s just right. At least that’s what Fushiguro think so, cause he shouldn’t know, he never encountered a circumstance such as this before.

Even then, Itadori totally caught him off guard, Fushiguro’s face clearly flushed, eyes running away.

“Yeah, totally cute.” His usual grin came back, looking down contently to a pair of dark blue orbs that belonged to Fushiguro. The gesture irked the raven-haired man way more than it should, he went to grab Itadori’s face, gripping it as a way of getting back at him.

“Ow, ow, quit being so harsh!” Itadori grabbed Fuhiguro’s wrist, stopping it before it’s harming his face any further. “Then quit being an idiot,” Fushiguro said with an annoyed tone, though as if contradicting himself, his one hand went limp, giving to Itadori’s touch completely.

Seeing that as a stamp of approval and an invitation to keep going, Itadori slowly drew his face closer to Fushiguro’s, bringing his gaze to his lips, making it obvious as to what Itadori wanted.

“Can I?” He lingered there for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Fushiguro’s gaze.

The latter man shivered under the usual goofy boy’s stare, though it wasn’t really an expression of scared but more like, excited? He never even thought about getting in a position such as this with his friend let alone finding out that he was actually eager for Itadori to kiss him?

Not letting his pride slid down yet, Fushiguro decided to be mischief about it, though honestly he was just as desperate as the other male to have his lips’ need met. “Can you what?” Fushiguro himself was surprised that he could manage a voice barely above a whisper, considering Itadori’s hot breath pressed against his jaw was kind of threatening Fushiguro’s insanity.

Yet, it was the same for Itadori. When you were pining someone below you to find out he had the prettiest face and had been looking at you with a gaze so desperate underneath those long lashes, it’s kind of decided early that Fushiguro Megumi is a man with a tremendous charm, and an irresistible one at that.

Wait scratch that. Itadori had always known that Fushiguro is beautiful. Stunning, even, if he dared to be dramatic about it. So it wasn’t a surprise anymore that situations like these are bound to happen, exactly like how people around them had been saying.

How Kugisaki had shared a knowing look that the both of them were too tired to interpret, how Gojo had been snickering quietly everytime the two of them were in the same room. Also the time where Inumaki given up a seat besides Fushiguro just for Itadori to sit, and that time too, and many more times after that too.

Everyone had long been involved in that relationship, before Itadori and Fushiguro could even figure out what was it in their chest that felt painfully tight, everytime the room visit occurred.

“Kiss you,” Itadori finished, drawing his lips dangerously close to Fushiguro’s, stopping at just the right distance upon not hearing a yes from the boy below him, though he’s guessing it was just to be annoying. “You always ask too many questions,” Fushiguro let out quietly, just enough for Itadori to hear, and just enough to let him know that he needed it fast.

Itadori smiled into the kiss as the younger male circled his arms around Itadori’s neck, bringing him even closer. Their lips met each other at an agonizing pace, yet it was just right for them and no one else. Though a tad sloppy for a bunch of firsts, it was just as passionate as any other kiss that happened at nights on different places. The kiss between the two was not any less meaningful than the couples that shared a goodbye kiss at mornings where one of them had to leave, it was not any less sweet than a quick surprise kiss they had seen so many lovers done, and it was definitely not less than a kiss that was shared between two platonic friends anywhere in the worl-

Wait. Why are they kissing?!

The teasing- That’s where Itadori usually knew where to draw the line and to not ever cross it, but as it’s been said before, they didn’t get a night like this that much. The dim room, the cozy breeze, the exhausment that could make anyone’s head is not on the right mind, and each other. It was a crazy coincidence that at the same time after staring each other for a good amount, Itadori had known that he will never meet a man more desirable than Fushiguro, and no one will ever has this magnetic effect on pulling him constantly just to be with the said person.

And the latter man has never wanted so much when he grew up, but that kiss that longed for him a moment ago, he felt like he could kill just to have his vacant lips be filled with Itadori’s. No, not just for that night where he was swept off his feet, but for next morning, and also a long time after that.

Realization descended after them at the same time, they both pulled away from the kiss. As painful as it was.

For a solid minute, there’s just silence. Both of them still trying to pick the words that had to be said after that happened. When the both of them finished observing whatever it was so interesting about the bedroom sheets –as they’ve been staring at it so intently- they both said at the same time.

”So-“

“I-“

“You first,” Fushiguro yielded characteristically. “Okay,” Itadori agreed, taking a deep breath somehow nervous, but isn’t it a bit too late for that considering the intense proximity they both just experienced?

“Shouldn’t there be something, you know, before this part?” The pink-haired boy said sheepishly, eyes darted around. Fushiguro was no better, his ears were red all the way to the tip, his heart beat loudly against his ribcage. “Like a confession?” Still, he managed.

“Like a confession.” Itadori confirmed, his gaze finally returned and rested it on Fushiguro’s.”Okay, you go first,” the younger male started—someone had to. “Wha-why me?!” Itadori protested.

“You kissed me first,” Fushiguro stated, “You kissed me back!” Itadori stared at him in disbelief, mostly because how he thought Fushiguro could get away with this with a weak argument such as that.

“Right, shouldn’t that be enough..” Fushiguro stopped halfway, not used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, “proof.. that I want you?” He finished, the last part was barely a mumble. Still, Itadori managed to get that. Of course he did. He never, not once, did not listen to what the quiet boy had to say.

Hearing that, a shade of pink appeared on Itadori’s face, a few darker shade that the one he has on his hair. He smiled through it, grinning from ear to ear. “Me too. I want you too. No, Not just because you said that first, but truly, I’ve wanted you for a very long time. I like you so much Fushiguro, Maybe I’ve just been too scared about this confrontation because of the change it might bring to us, or to you. I guess I was scared you’d look at me differently and honestly that would be worst thing to ever happened.” He reached out to the slender finger Fushiguro owned, holding it gently. The neediness and urgence that was once there has turned into an act so prudent.

That tugged some of Fushiguro’s heart strings, the rarity of a warm feeling engulfed him. “Stupid, the only change I’m going through right now is that realizing that turns out I can like you more than I already was.” His heart is full, to some extent, though it’s a very scary thing to admit, that Itadori has become such an important person to him that it is not possible for Fushiguro to be whole anymore without him in his life.

Without any further prompt, they both knew that words are no longer needed. Itadori reached out, this time with certainty and spring on his hands, Fushiguro just closed his eyes surrendering his lips, but how surprised he got when the one who made contact with the other male was his eyelids, so gentle, exceptionally incredibly loving, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with heaviness inside his stomach.

The kiss didn’t stop there, feather lightly trailing along the dark-haired male’s jaw like teasing because Itadori knew it wasn’t enough. Fushiguro was more sure of that because he could feel the smirk forming beside him.

Yet before letting Fushiguro has anything to protest against him, Itadori pressed a soft kiss, exactly like the one Fushiguro had been hoping for. He couldn’t help but smile and gave in, their mouth moving in an attempt to match each other. Honestly? They had no idea what they’re doing but it felt so damn good. The genuiness of a first kiss (well, second if you counted the impulsive teenage boys’ hormones) flew right between the two of them, there’s this rawness that felt like an electric spark every time their lips met each other. They couldn’t get enough, even though it was clear from the conversation they just had that doing this is something they’re gonna do a lot in the future to a point where they could already hear Kugisaki groaning and rolled her eyes at them, looking so done.

They pulled away, faces still extremely close to each other as if it pains them if it’s the opposite.

Still smiling, Itadori asked, “Now what?”

Fushiguro pretended to ponder for a moment, “Do that all over again?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They laughed, before leaning in yet again.

Let’s just say, those are a lot of kisses for a first kiss.

[sillydreamer]

Hi! I don't know if you are doing this but...nsfw alphabet for Raphael?? It's okay if you want to ignore it 😁

NSFW alphabet of Raphael

Do you hear that? Those are my sinful thoughts celebrating for these request. Keep reading if you want to read about dirty things of these vampire.

(And I apologize for any mistake, it's my first nsfw alphabet)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Raphael is really gentle during the aftercare, he praises you and kisses all your body trying to make you feel better if your skin hurts. Then he’ll hug you and kiss your neck with love.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He really likes his hands; how he’s able to touch you and what he can do with them on your body.

At the same time his favorite parts on your body are your hands and lips. He goes crazy when you touch him and with the contact of your lips on the top of his skin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is an average amount but very thick. You can feel how it slides through your body while he’s letting himself go inside you. Prefers when we ends up inside you but if you want to swallow it Raphael would allow you, just be careful with it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes when one of you two is tided up to the bed or with its hands stranded, being unable to move. Also has some fantasies about using his powers on you and controlling you in every aspect.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn’t very experience because since Margarita died he hadn’t feel that attraction to anybody else. Probably has a few nightstands as experience but nothing too intimate.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary; loves to hear your voice and touch your body. Also likes against the wall but it’s afraid of hitting something and breaking it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

His sense of humor is strange and most of the time is serious but if you joke a little bit he’ll continue with it and make both of you laugh. He’ll feel happy if you are feeling alright.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s short by nature, he doesn’t have the need to cut it since it doesn’t bother a lot during oral and if you want it short he’ll probably ask for your help to do it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Likes to prepare the environment to be as romantic as possible. Likes to take his time and enjoy the moment. However if he’s feeling a little bit rebel he’ll tease you a lot and hold you waiting for the moment for a long time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it often because he lost the sense of doing it, physical pleasure is something that only lasts for a moment and then becomes a memory. Well that’s what he used to think before meeting you, still he doesn’t masturbate that often and prefers to talk with you (masturbates once a week or so, probably he’s very repressed).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage, Dom/Sub, switch, a little bit of humiliation, fisting, orgasm control, perhaps ocasional dirty talk...

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place are the bedrooms, both of you can do whatever you want without being bothered. However if he’s feeling horny he’ll do it in the library (I can hear Vladimir’s voice in the distance)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice, if you say the right words in the right tone he’ll get hard in an instant. Also when you touch his neck or hair with your hands Raphael’s breathing will start rising.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He may like humiliation and other hard stuff but if you ask him to hit you hard he’ll say no. Also having sex in semi-public spaces were people can see you (however he’s good if they are just hearing you, weird but let him be).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both giving and receiving. In the first one he loves to hear you whimming and begging for more meanwhile on the other hand he can’t but moan when you are giving him, really loves the feeling of your mouth hugging his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers to take his time and please both of you. Can last all the night if he’s slow but can be rough and mean when he wants it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He rather not to have them and enjoy in the bedroom but may give a little fuck behind the walls but later Raph will need a new session of love but longer and harder.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He isn’t closed minded, he’s more curious about experimenting and trying new stuff. However he doesn’t like being seen by others while doing it because he’s shy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Has normal energy for a vampire, even a little bit less. His average are 3-4 rounds before feeling tired and starting to feel weak. Of course he takes breaks between rounds and respect if you need to rest more of by the other hand, if you need more rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t have toys but may try them. If you have one he will use it on you and will suggest to use them on him too. Probably he’ll ended up getting one and experimenting with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

During normal rounds he’ll be kind and more of being slow to tease you, leaving you wanting more. However if Raph is feeling “dirty” he’ll be mean and tease a lot with words “Why so impatience darling? You know that I’ll take good care of you” Or by the other hand he will be rough and let you gasping for air “Are you done? That’s bad, I hadn’t ended up with you yet”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud and isn’t ashamed of it. Most are moans and heavy breaths while his cheeks turns red and his mouth is slightly opened letting those sounds escape (I need to chill out it’s 12am and my family may caught me)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

During sex he speaks italian and loves to tease you with this, telling hot things right at your ear.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

it’s thick enough to fill inside you, has small veins around it and the top is slightly bigger but nothing weird. It’s a little bit curved to the left and covered in soft skin

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high, he can do it two or three times a week by his own but for you he can do it every single day. Of course he doesn’t want to force you and will let you choose when.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Prefers to wait until you fall asleep and follows you right away, however if you touch his hair and neck he’ll lose himself and fall asleep right away. It’s tired after sex and this baby need to rest.

Mom if you’re reading this you saw nothing 💀

[stnscat]

Ship: Mammon/Fem!MC

Rating: M (Mature)

Warnings: Alcohol, violence, cursing, some making out wink wonk

Summary: MC and Mammon go to a casino, but when Mammon gets too caught up in a scheme and leaves you hanging, another demon decides you’re easy prey. On the bright side you get to see why Mammon is the second strongest. Ends in angst/comfort.

So perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea.

You stumbled along the corridors of the casino, mind cloudy. You turned your head ever so slightly, and immediately felt your sight delay for a second. You stopped and blinked, trying to catch your breath. Psh, you thought, you were fine! Totally. You only had a couple, or maybe four shots. Everything went to Mammon’s tab anyway, so you weren’t counting. Or maybe you stopped counting after the third glass of whatever-ma-thing-california-tequila you had. It was sweet and nice and...

Actually, you felt a bit weird. This wasn’t a corridor anymore, but since when? You were holding your shoes because it was just so much harder to walk around in heels -- why had Mammon insisted in heels anyway? Heels were an invention to make women’s butts smaller and running away harder! That was a movie quote, you were pretty sure.

You sat down on a couch. It was black and felt nice to the touch. A cold breeze came from an open balcony, and while you did feel a bit chilly now, it also made you feel less... Weird. You weren’t particularly used to being drunk. Hopefully you’d sober up at least enough to remember most of the night tomorrow.

You looked down, elbows on your thighs, deep in thought. You were here so Mammon could scam people, and you’d be the pretty, well-dressed assistant to help take the “clients’” mind off of how sleazy everything out of his mouth sounded. Like a few magic words and “was that your card”s, it was easy money with cheap tricks, and he said you’d get a cut off of it. You didn’t need the money, mind you, you just wanted to spend some time with him. But he disappeared while talking to some people, leaving you at the bar while chatting to the bartender. As revenge for leaving his so-called partner you decided it was only fair to order a drink on his tab. And then another came, and another...

You squinted, feeling dizzy, and let out a breath. You put your head up, eyes closed, and took in the fresh air. If you kept your head down like this you’d only feel sicker, right? You opened your eyes again, and instead of an almost empty room you saw a stranger’s grin a bit too close for comfort, truth be told. You felt your stomach turn, and you were sure it wasn’t the alcohol.

“And you must be MC, correct?” she said your name with a strange emphasis to it, her grin never diminishing, like you do when thinking of an expensive meal you’ll treating yourself to after a long day.

“Yeah...” you hesitated. “And you’d be...?”

“Oh, just a friend of your friend. He asked me to take care of you.” she replied, a hand snaking its way up your arm. You were too drunk to react in time. It felt like both an eternity and too quick to process, your stare blank towards the action, and then you lazily looked up at her, painfully aware that you weren’t going to move quickly enough for anything. Yet, you felt your heart beat faster and adrenaline running through your veins. You knew damn well she was lying, no matter how smashed you felt. You sobered up a bit, and though not enough to actually be sober, it felt like enough to not stumble on your own feet if you ran. You didn’t know if that would matter, but it was better than the alternative.

The demon’s look was sickeningly sweet still, yet sharp. Like she was waiting for your move, to read if you actually saw through her poorly told lie. Your drunk mind trailed off to Hansel and Gretel’s candy house, and how it was used to lure them to the witch. And how you didn’t leave any crumbs for Mammon to follow you and hopefully save you. No, you were alone, and painfully aware of her grip on your arm. You tried smiling back.

“Ah, okay.” you replied, trying to pretend you bought it. “So, um...” you paused, trying to think of anything, absolutely anything, to keep the façade of oblivious intoxication. “Have you seen my friend? He’s like... Tall and dark and stuff. White hair.”

“I know, dear, don’t worry. I’ll take you to him in a second, if you’ll just come with me.” she pulled you lightly, surprinsingly gentle for someone who saw you as prey. You followed her lead, and for a second her grip on your arm was released. Your feet moved before you had a chance to think, and once you did you felt a sharp pain on your arm. You inhaled, not taking the time to look at the possible injury. You know the demon was at your back and would pounce if you slowed down for even half a second.

You slid from one corridor to another on your bare feet and ran down a flight of stairs, never having realized you were upstairs. You heard a groan behind you, and tears stung the back of your eyes. Suddenly you were tumbling, and everything stung. You know for a fact you didn’t trip. You felt pressure on top of you, only intensifying the pain, and black and white spots danced in your vision, but through them you could still make out the demon readying herself. You let out a pathetic hiccup and braced yourself.

Instead you heard a yelp, and the demon’s weight being lifted off of you.

Letting out the breath you were holding, you try to turn and look, a glimmer of hope in your heart. You grunt as your new aches flared up, but you still managed to prop yourself up with an elbow.

Right next to you was Mammon, demon form unleashed, holding the other demon up high by the throat as she struggled to put her feet down to no avail. He had an aura of seriousness about him, which, yes, you would expect from any of the brothers if you were ever hurt, but with Mammon it was different. You’re far too used to him gloating and boasting and jesting even when the situation is dire. But now you can’t help but notice there was no humor to his eyes. A tint of ferousciousness colored them instead.

“Tell me: what do you think you were doing?” his voice had a deep, cruel tone instead of his usual goofiness. He let the words hang in the air as the other choked, hanging just as much from his grip.

The position you were in began to hurt, and you tried to sit up further. A sharp pain blazed through your chest, and you wheezed, arm wrapping itself around the area. Shit, did you break something?

“Hey,” Mammon’s voice spoke higher than the pain. Cruelty no longer laced it, but it still sounded so much more serious than usual. “how bad is it?”

“Pretty bad.” you coughed back. You noticed the demon squirming more, and guessed he squeezed harder. “Don’t kill her.”

“I don’t, usually.” he paused, and the demon’s squirming seemed to stop as well. You could barely process it, but the next second a wall had been cracked, her body making more unpleasant sounds than your own. Your breath hitched, but Mammon wasn’t even paying attention to the demoness anymore. Instead he’d directed his attention at the staff members, who all seemed to be either gasping or gulping. “Get her information. Pass it to Lucifer. He’ll want to have a talk.” the scorn, disdain, hatred. All of it was clear in his tone.

And then he turned to you, changing from his bare chested demon form, to his previous attire that night. A simple suit, carefully disheveled, sunglasses on top of his head.

“Tell me if it hurts, alright?” his tone was kind now, barely a whisper. His hands were gentle as he lifted you up from the ground and walked out of the casino, carrying you. You placed your head on his chest. You could still smell his cologne as the haze from before eveloped you, this time both it and the exhaustion putting you to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of yelling outside your door. The dim light from the corridor was just enough for you to make out that you were back at the House of Lamentation, and that the bed you were in was yours. From there you could also hear people speaking loudly, the volume of their voices only increasing.

“... been so stupid, as usual!” a deep voice was exasperated. Satan or Lucifer, you’d say.

“Shouldn’t we just take her to a hospital?” another deep, but this time softer, voice. Beelzebub, you guessed.

“No, he said nothing was broken. It’s best she rests here, where we can keep an eye on her.” it was definitely Lucifer this time.

“You could’ve killed her, you know?” a soft voice snapped. Asmodeus. “How could you just leave her at the bar like that? Did you even notice she wasn’t there anymore?”

“I gotta say, that was a dumbass move even for you.” Leviathan chimed in.

Through all that Mammon kept himself quiet. That is, until now.

“I’ll apologize to her when she wakes up.” his voice was tiny, the façade of an egocentrical bastard completely gone. That seemed to surprise everyone, in fact, as there was no more snark thrown his way.

You understood. Yes, he shouldn’t have left you alone, but maybe you shouldn’t have overdone it like you did. You were mad you got ditched, but you didn’t blame him for being attacked.

“Alright.” Lucifer was the first to break the silence. “We’ll bring you some tea later.” Mammon probably nodded, as there was no audible response before you heard steps getting farther away from your door. Then it opened, and you instinctively closed your eyes as if to pretend you didn’t catch any of the previous conversation.

You heard someone approaching, stopping right next to your bed, and then kneeling. He searched for your hand on top of the bed, the slight cold from the lack of a blanket entirely covering your arm quickly substituted by the heat of his own hands. He held it for a second, and you felt your face burn with his stare. At this point you were sure it was Mammon. He sighed, almost as if to confirm your suspicions, and carefully placed your knuckles on his forehead. You felt a bit of movement on your side, like he’d buried his face on the sheets.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, voice not above a whisper, muted further by the bed. He then moved your hand, lips gently touching it as he continued to speak, this time a bit more clearly “I should’ve been more careful. I thought... I don’t know what I thought.” he confessed, pain and regret finely threaded in-between his words. ”I thought you’d be fine. I didn’t know you would get completely drunk and run off to where I couldn’t see and... And it’s my fault, even if I put it like that. And I know it. I’ll do better.”

His hands squeezed yours ever so slightly, as if he was afraid to break you further.

“I’m supposed to protect you, damn it...” his voice shook. “I’m supposed to not be such a screw up all the damn time. I’m the second oldest, and if I can’t even protect a single human from one minor demon...” he sighed, letting the thought hang in the air.

“But you did.” you replied, attempting a smile. Mammon looked back at you, startled, eyes sparkling with what you weren’t sure were tears or not “I’m sorry I made you go through this.”

“You...” he stuttered. “Ah... You heard all that, didn’t you?” he sounded sheepish, looking away. “It’s not your fault. You know it’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either.” You attempted to move your other hand, change positions. You wanted to caress his hair, tell him, show him you were fine and everything would be okay. Instead you hissed as pain shot through your chest.

“Ah! Hey, hey!” startled, he gently held your shoulder in place. “Don’t... Don’t do that. You’re already all purple and blue, you don’t need more bruises. Humans are too fragile.” he tried to go back to his usual persona, but it was much less effective than he was hoping for. He frowned, looking at the bandages on your arm, where you know for a fact the demon had put her nails and cut you. You weren’t sure you wanted to know how deep those went. “I’m sorry.”

“C’mere.” You simply replied, and before he could say anything else you put your hands on each of his cheeks, pulling his forehead to join with yours. “I’m okay. I’m here. And I don’t blame you.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Shush. Now, come on, I was saved by the Mammon. My knight in leathery armor, my first man. How could I ask for more?”

He chuckled back.

“So how much did we make anyway?” you asked. You hadn’t let go yet. You didn’t want to. Mammon was sitting on top of your nightstand at this point, comfortably pressed against your bed and you, and he, too, made no effort to separate himself from you.

“Well...” he trailed off, his cheeks burning slightly. “Ya know, it was s’pposed to be a surprise, but I don’t think you’re getting out of this bed ‘till after the weekend, so I guess I could tell you...” again he let the words hang in the air before adding “For a price.”

“A price?” you replied, feigning ignorance.

“C’mon, I’m the Mammon. My services, whatever they are, always come with profit for me, myself and I.”

You hummed in response, face inching closer. Now your cheeks were burning as well, noses tickling each other so close they were. “I see. And what kind of profit was the incredible, showstopping Avatar of Greed thinking of?”

“Hm...” he let out. His breath was hot on yours, eyes half-lidded. His hands held the bed frame, arms encasing you in his heat even more. “There’s a couple of things...” A hand moved, carefully, tenderly, to the back of your head. You lifted yourself slightly so it could be easily placed, which only made the two of you all the closer, lips almost brushing. You didn’t move away. He didn’t move either. 

And then he did, pressing his lips to yours. Carefully, passionately, yet with an underlying hunger. You pressed further, fingers tangling in his hair. He was Greed personalized, but you had your own spells of selfishness. He noticed, his own cravings fueled by yours. He moved from your lips to your jawline to your neck, trailing kisses wherever he went.

“You--” he said in-between kisses. “That’s just one of the things you can do to pay me for information.” he had moved from the nightstand, now almost on top of you on the bed. Your heart beat fast seeing him like that. Disheveled, now with no care, no measures and appearances, simply messy because you did it and he wanted you to do it.

“Yeah?” you breathed out only to immediately bite your lip. You didn’t expect to be out of breath already. He placed his forehead on yours again, a grin spreading accross his face.

“Would you go on a date with me?”

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Hand-holding, 5, Gar and Conner

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Can't Stop The Feeling

Pairings/Relationships: Garfield Logan & Conner Kent, Core Four

Summary: Conner has no clue about dancing. So Gar tries to teach him.

Hand-holding | 5. Platonic hand-holding, Gar & Conner - for @books-life-death

REQUESTS CLOSED (for now)

also tagging my bestie @undertheknightwing because it's ya boy Gar so you should be notified

____________________________________________

I got this feeling inside my bones.

"It goes electric, wavy when I turn it on!" Gar sang happily to the tune on the radio, not giving a damn that he's totally off key. He's been playing around in the kitchen for about an hour now and he had it all for himself, so he decided to test his culinary skills and prepare a feast.

Him and Rachel finally got Dick and Kory to get out for a date night and with other team members also spending their own free evening elsewhere, the Tower was mostly empty. When the two lovebirds finally left (or more like got kicked out because the two teenagers basically had to push their dramatically worried asses into the elevator, dodging questions and reminders like bullets) Gar asked Rachel if she'd like to help him in the kitchen but she had a slightly different idea for celebrating their victory - she locked herself in her bedroom with her pencils and brushes and got to work on another art masterpiece.

But he didn't mind working alone - it gave him more space to experiment.

He turned up the volume on the radio, singing along with Justin Timberlake and headed to the fridge, sliding on the polished wooden floor in his bright green socks. Stacking up things he needed in his arms he swayed his hips to the beat and smiled remembering how back at the Doom Manor he often caught Larry dancing while cooking. He balanced the tower of ingredients in his arms, holding the tip of it with his chin as he waltzed to the kitchen island.

"Nothing I can see but you when you dance, dance, dance…" he kept singing out loud as he chopped and cut vegetables and put them in the biggest pot he could find.

He twirled and jumped around the counter, busting moves and screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, completely lost in the music. He grabbed the chopping board and swung his arm over it, playing a riff on the invisible guitar and the crowd in his mind screamed.

"What are you doing?"

These four words worked on him like a hammer shattering glass - the happy illusion fell apart and Gar found himself awkwardly standing in front of Conner, who was staring at him baffled with his round eyes. "I didn't know cooking was…" he paused to find the right words, "physically demanding." He looked down at the almost empty bowl of popcorn in his arms and frowned. "I guess I've been doing it wrong."

When the initial shock faded, Gar chuckled and put his imaginary instrument away.

"This is not cooking," he said, shooting him a crooked grin. "It's dancing."

"Dancing?" the boy's face twisted, brows furrowing in something between confusion and focus. "I- I think I know what this is but I don't really… get it."

"It's easy," Gar shrugged. "You hear the song on the radio? All you need to do is move. You gotta feel the rhythm, man!" he outstretched his arms as he spoke and demonstrated a perfect (in his opinion) arm wave.

Unfortunately that didn't make Conner look any less clueless.

"Feel the… rhythm?"

Gar's arms dropped to his sides and his shoulders slumped when he let out a sigh.

"C'mon, let me show you."

He walked up to his friend and reached out his hands in offering. Conner glanced down at them, then back at Gar's encouraging face grinning at him and slowly, a bit hesitantly laid down his palms on top of Gar's. The green haired boy's fingers wrapped around his and then he pulled Conner into the open space between the kitchen and the lounge.

"It's easy, Conner!" he laughed, spinning them both around. "Listen to the beat!"

He tapped his foot onto the wooden floorboards, showing the other boy how his body moved in tune with the music, hitting every note perfectly in time. Gar started swinging his arms, swaying his hips, nodded his head to the rhythm as his legs stepped one way or the other.

"Got this feeling in my body!!!" he belted out as he spun Conner around and watched with a smile as his friend tried to mimic his moves, at first a bit sloppy and awkward, but getting better with each passing second.

"I think I got this!" Conner's high pitched excited voice rang over the song and Gar nodded in agreement.

"You got it, dude!"

As the last note of the tune played out and the melodic ooohhh faded into silence, Gar and Conner ended their little performance with their hands clasped high in the air, facing the windows with the biggest smiles on their faces as if the entire San Francisco was their audience. In Gar's mind the city lights glowing in the black of night were thousands of lighted up phones and glowsticks and the wind howling outside was the crowd screaming his name. The two boys looked at each other, grinning like idiots as they both tried to catch their breath - or as Gar did, because Conner with his super-everything didn’t even break a sweat.

The sound of slow, almost obnoxious clapping broke their little bubble of imagination and the two whipped around, startled, only to find Rachel standing by the breakfast table with a smirk on her face.

"That was… something." she said, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes darting from one surprised face to the other.

"How… How long were you standing there?" Gar's voice sounded tight even for his own ears. He felt his cheeks slightly blushing in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Long enough to enjoy the show."

Something in her tone, that mischievous spark in her eyes told Gar she did more than just ‘enjoy the show’ and his gaze dropped to her left hand, catching the tip of her phone hidden underneath her arm. There was no doubt a high quality blackmail material was there and they both knew it. Their eyes met as Gar tried to find something in her gaze that would tell him he's wrong but Rachel only held her chin up and slid her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans, not even bothering to hide it anymore. It was a clear challenge and a warning, both in one sharp gaze and a smug smile.

Conner, oblivious to the silent game the two siblings were playing, smiled at her and happily announced.

"Gar was teaching me how to dance!"

He shook their joined hands for emphasis. Rachel laughed.

"I can see that. Was he a good teacher?"

"I think so," the boy replied and let go of Gar's hand, then outstretched his arms to the sides like Gar did earlier. "I mean, I think I got this now."

His arm wave was… not good to say the least, but the proud look on his face filled Gar's heart with warmth. He walked over to his friend and patted his shoulder.

"You're a fast learner."

Rachel smiled at the two for a bit longer then turned towards the kitchen.

"Well, I came here to get some coffee." she said, walking slowly to the coffee pot and pouring the drink to her favorite mug. She eyed the mess on the counter on her way back, peering into the pot then stealing a piece of tomato. Gar held up his finger, about to say something but she only smirked at him and threw it into her mouth.

She stopped right next to him though, leaned in close to his face and whispered.

"Dick and Kory were very impressed."

As if to confirm her words, her phone let out a quiet ding and her smirk grew even wider. She reached for it and opened the message in front of him. It was a picture of the pair, both glammed up and pretty in some fancy restaurant. The table was set with flowers, candles, some expensive cuisine and a bottle of wine cooling in a bucket full of ice. But what Gar's eyes focused on the most was Dick's goofy smile, Kory trying to quiet down a giggle and their thumbs up in the air.

His face drained of all the color.

They are never gonna let him live it down. Like ever.