#they seem pretty darn ready to tell people as soon as they think there's a possibility they'll be believed

[17yearslatewithlattes]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: gee Sam, be nice

[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. 

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[parvulous-writings]

Slightly Unexpected // McCree x reader

Request:  Can I make a request were McCree meets a new member of the team who happens to be a field medic with a big St. Bernard named Bosco. Everyone didn’t know that Bosco could speak except for Winston and soldier 76. And I mean he has the same intelligence as a human type. Like McCree finds out that his S/Os dog can speak during a mission when she hast to save him and drag him to a safe spot to be patched up.  i’ve been obsessing over the creek for the past week and a half and this seems like a very funny idea that’s been playing in my mind for the past few days lol

Requested by: @wolvesbrigade

Summary: The request

Warnings: Violence, mention of injuries and blood

Words: 1.2K

Notes:Did I make Bosco sassy? Maybe. My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

Initially, the assignment for the small team you supported was going incredibly well. Almost too well. There were four of you in all- a very small team indeed, but you didn’t need to go for overkill for this. It was merely defense, and of a small area to boot. It should’ve been fairly simple.  Key words; Should have. As the battle wore on and on, you got a sinking feeling in your gut that you had severely underestimated the adversaries you were facing. How could you tell this? Well, in part because of how much you’re having to heal your teammates, but also because of how the more experienced in the team were starting to show signs of struggle. Jack Morrison- Soldier 76 to the masses- was one of the ones starting to struggle, having to slowly fall back to be able to deal with the enemy personnel safely. 

The more tank-like colleague of yours had also started to draw close to the rest of the group, raising his shield to defend both the old soldier and yourself, as one last member on your team strayed out into the field, all by himself. This rugged vigilante was the gunslinger Jesse McCree- known by most to be an outlaw, and known to you specifically to be a man who makes almost nothing but reckless decisions. You were doing your best to help the two closest to you, with the aid of your loyal companion Bosco. The St Bernard was the one who held the majority of your healing capsules- modeled partially after Ana’s which served largely the same purpose. He’d ferry them back and forth between the two allies defending the point, whilst you helped Morrison dispatch your foes with your small firearm.

You had just about managed to get your feet stuck in the ground where you were supposed to be defending, when you heard a raspy voice through your earpiece: “I need.. I need some help over here!”  It was Jesse, sounding out of breath, and in a reasonable amount of pain. You give a gentle sigh- it came as no surprise to your that it was McCree that was the first to essentially get downed. You looked to your companion, giving a low whistle to get his attention away from Reinhardt. “Bosco! Let’s get moving!” And with that, the pair of you dove into fire, taking out the lackeys that stood between you and the teammate who needed your assistance. For those you didn’t take down yourself, Bosco tackled and tore at them as they tried to take aim towards you- trying to take you out and weaken your team. 

It took you a few minutes to find Jesse, who had managed to drag himself into a small corner, where he was able to stake out and defend himself with his peacekeeper. He had a rather nasty looking wound on his leg- a large, bloody patch around a bullet hole in his trouser leg. Bosco was the first of you two to approach him, looking him over for any other sign of any other, more life threatening injuries. The hound glanced over to you, his collar- designed especially for Bosco by Winston himself, based on similar technology used for Hammond the hamster- allowed him to inform you of what was McCree’s injury as you caught up and approached them.  “Thankfully I think the bullet has missed the femoral artery.” You weren’t caught off-guard by the friendly yet oddly monotonous voice of your dog, but McCree certainly was. His jaw was almost in his lap- he had never actually been out in the field with you and Bosco, and Morrison had clearly failed to warn him of the collar and unique intelligence of your companion. 

“The- the- he can-” McCree stuttered, and had Bosco been able to, he would have rolled his eyes. “Talk, yes. Thank you for the observation, Agent McCree, I hadn’t yet noticed.” Bosco replied sarcastically. Whilst they were conversing, you pulled two bandages from the pack around your waist- one to tie at least a fairly secure tourniquet, the other to dress his wound. Bosco took a small capsule from the bag draped over his back, breaking it carefully in his jaw over the wound and letting the golden liquid drip over the bloody hole in Jesse’s thigh. McCree winced, as the wound started to heal- but it would take a few minutes to heal properly, so you still fastened a makeshift tourniquet after dressing his wound. Bosco then nuzzled himself under Jesse’s arm, trying to pull him to his feet. You started to help, taking both of the cowboy’s hands in your own. 

“You never told me the old dog could talk!” Jesse exclaimed through heavy breaths as you started to help him back towards the rest of your team.  “Not that old,” Bosco pointed out, along with a computer generated sigh.  “Ah... Sorry, Bosco.” The gunslinger replied, awkwardly.  “Didn’t really have the need to mention it... Sorry, Jesse.” You chuckled as the two beings you held dearest fully interacted for the first time. You actually thought Jesse was taking it fairly well- you had expected a much more... Dramatic display.  “Well, uh, thank you, both of you, for comin’ to fetch me...” Jesse chuckled as you finally rejoined the other half of your team. You sat the Southerner down near a piece of debris- where he could still shoot the odd enemy, but also rest his leg until a dropship arrived for you all. Bosco went and sat beside him, ready to move him should the barrier finally break and the group of you be overrun by those fighting against you. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long before you heard the familiar whir of an  engine as the dropship started to approach from overhead. You had defended your point for long enough, now Overwatch’s own metallic forces were able to fight back instead of their valuable living soldiers. Bosco now started to help the injured gunslinger to his feet, and you soon joined to assist him onto the dropship. The man gave you a thankful look- a rarity from someone like Jesse.  “You know... I’d like to take some tips from ya about satyin’ alive during combat... You seem to do it pretty darn well, so you seem like one of the best people to ask. Maybe we could discuss it over dinner?” He suggested, a smirk-like grin spreading over his lips.  “Are you asking me out, McCree?” You ask him with a chuckle. He shrugs and nods slightly.  “I might be... Is there any harm in that?” He asked you, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.  “Only if you try anything funny.” Bosco jumped in, which caused both you and McCree to laugh.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything... Jus’ want to be a gentleman...” He looked to you, “If you’ll let me, o’ course...” He chuckled, and you smiled softly, beginning to nod at his words.  “Alright... But only if neither of us are cooking.” You gestured between you and him, laughing gently as he nodded in agreement.  “I was gonna suggest the same thing, darlin’.” He told you, “So, you got a date in mind?”  “Saturday? Maybe... Half eight?” You suggested, and he nods eagerly.  “Sounds brilliant, sugar.” 

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McCree taglist: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​

[slashingdisneypasta]

Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader || Oneshot, [Part 2]

Title: The Fake Love Of My Life [PART 2]

Notes:

I'm just realising Harper and Y/N's relationship is very like Dimitri and Anastasia haha XD

Plot: Fake fiancés, impending murder victims who are actually quite lovely, dancing, jealousy, and engagement rings- oh my!

Warnings: Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh? Jealousy?

"Wait... you two? Are together???"

The words coming out of an 'honoured guest's mouth, aimed at Harper and I as he comes on into the bar, pressing a kiss to my temple on his way past. The guests, especially the one that rode in with that blonde Harper made off with earlier, do not miss it despite its subtlety - given more for the towns folk around us then anything else, obviously, - . And suddenly the fact that Harper just went off flirting with another woman, hits us both in the face.

Well... fuck- and the rest of the town catches it, too; Freaking out also, on the inside. I glance up unsurely at Harper who is still standing close to my seat, but force a tinkering smile that just makes me look perplexed, and that doesn't meet my eyes.

Which, you know, works. Because if we were a real couple, and I didn't, in fact, know perfectly well that he had to seduce these girls then I would look like this; Oblivious. And that's exactly what the guests think is happening.

Trying not to show my nervousness at the situation, a shield that I've mastered at this point, I decide to play the clueless-type. Thoughtlessly blinking and smiling, I tilt my head at the guy. "Yeah," I hold up the back my left hand, and show off the engagement ring (Which so happens to be Harper's actual mothers ring, so I take very good care of it even if it doesn't totally feel like mine, nor will it ever- seeing at the engagement in the first place is a total hoax) and beam. "We're engaged, actually!"

"Uhhh... " The guy's eyes flicker nervously from me, to Harper where his glance becomes hard. You can tell that he's struggling not to tell me out right what my 'fiancé' has been up to, and is gouging what kind of reaction Harper might give if he does do that right now. Still looking blissfully oblivious, I look between the two with wide, confused eyes. "Dude."

Knitting my brows together, I play my part well. A hand on Harpers arm and a teetering tone to my voice completes the act. "Harper?"

"Ah. Y/N!... " He picks up my hand off his arm, and holds it in his own, playing his own part with a side of guilt sitting beside a big serving of regretful douchebag. He doesn't meet my eyes completely, just flickers over them, leaning his shoulder slightly between me and the guy. "Its nothin', don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Hey, its not nothing!" The guy actually shoves Harper out of his way, and my own blow open wide at it as Harper flashes a dark glare his way, silently. "Girl- " I blink up at this man, who's pointing directly at me after that show of violence and I hand him all my attention. Because oh- wow- direct! Okay, yes? I mean I know he's going to be dead in a couple of hours and he's the enemy but wow. He points behind him with a thumb, at Harper. "This guy's been cheating on you. I saw him go off with my girl friend, Jess- and I know her. The way she was lookin' at him... oof," He shakes his head. "They fucked, or something, man. I'm sorry."

Miss Peaches and Boone flash eachother a smirky, secret glance at that while most people are looking at me for a response or glaring at Harper like some of the guests are, Buckman's watching this whole scene like a show at the theatre and he's on the edge of his seat, Hucklebilly is silently urging me with his eyes to do something already. Like hurry. Hurry up. Hurry! Hurry!!

Dragging my gaze away from Huck's, I make myself slowly look from the guy that 'told me'... to Harper. Before a new expression can take hold on my face, I ask, in a deadly tone; "... what?"

Harper immediately comes forward again, looking desperate and pissed off- though its not me, he's angry at. "I don't know what he's talking about, Y/N, I swear- "

I get up from my seat and he steps - stumbles? - back at the terrible glare on my face. As terrible as I can muster, when I want to laugh at his reactions. You know? Sometimes this pretending thing can be a lot of fun. Taking a deep breath, I take off the ring he gave me, and under the gaze of the man that told me Harper was 'cheating'- I hand it back to him. Then I clear my throat, as he looks from it... to me. And does 'heartbroken' so well. "... Um- whether you did, or not. I- I cant wear this... u-until, I know. You know? Um... sorry."

Then I manage to slip past him and out the bar door, into the empty square before a smile fights onto my face and giggles topple out of me. I collapse against the side of the building, letting the laughter come out as I cover my face. Oh god... the looks on Harper's face! Oh, he was good.

He must have run out after me a moment later - after the appropriate amount of staring heartbrokenly at my empty seat, I'm sure, - because then he's poking around the corner, finding me, and enfolding his hands into his pockets as he saddles lazily up to me.

But he does not fool me- he's pretty damn amused too, I see, as when I glance around my fingers; Theirs a grin on his handsome face.

Sighing, I calm down and press my head back into the wood. "That was good! You did well!- Coulda cried, though. I mean, you were being left by me, after all."

Rolling his eyes, making me giggle again, Harper sets his jaw. "You sure think a lotta yourself, don't ya?" His slow drawl is back to normal, no longer desperate like he was acting before. Perfectly, annoyingly shirty. He leans in towards me, giving me a raised eyebrow-look. "I didn't see you cryin', neither, Y/N. Not even one, stray, tear."

"Hm. Not even I am that good an actress, Harper."

He smirks back at me, and for a moment , before returning to his straight standing position, and sighing. He looks back at the building, his mouth twisted into a displeased, put-out frown. "Well, I guess we're fightin', now... Should we be yellin'?"

Scrunching up my nose, suddenly tasting something gross in my mouth, I scowl at him. "Do we want to be the kinda couple that screams and yells?"

"Well, it is just an act."

"Yeah, but still."

"Hmmm... " Harper, looking dissatisfied with my objections, looks away again and thinks. "Okay. How about we just say we fought, then? You can jog in place for a minute and look like you just ran a marathon or something when we get back in."

Gaze flickering up to him, my eyes narrow. "Oh I am only running, if you let me squeeze your cheeks to make it look like you got red-faced."

He does not look like he likes that idea, at all. "... Okay. What if I didn't find you, then? 'N instead I walked around looking for you for a while. You can go back in now and I'll wait out here for a while before comin' back in."

"Yeah, lets do that." I push off the wall and ready myself to go back in their, looking all down, when Harper pulls something out of his pocket and tries to give it back to me. As soon as I realise that its the ring though, I shake my head good naturedly and push his hand back. "You hold onto it, until this is all over. I don't want it falling out of my pocket." It was his mothers, so its important, and if anything in this relationship is real its our shared devotion to keeping that ring safe. I would die if I lost it.

Harper stalls for a moment, displeased by my response if I didn't know better, before shoving it and his fist back into the pocket of his trousers. "Alright then... Until this is all over."

"Right." I assure him, awkwardly. Before patting his shoulder and passing him by. "See you back in there!"

"Yep."

~

Its nearly 45 minutes before Harper comes back into the bar, a sullen look on his face still, like normal. I look away almost immediately, pointedly- returning to the conversation I'm having with Miss Peaches. "... As I was saying, yeah we are having nice weather toda- "

The guy from earlier - the one that had informed me of Harper's 'infidelity'. I think his name was Matt? - suddenly pushes out of his seat a few tables over, seeing Harper come in also and saddles right beside my chair. I cut off again, and look up to him. Hello? Mister?

Not looking at me, rather glowering Harper's way, Matt offers his hand to me. Shoving it right in front of my face. I blink, surprised at its presence and the gesture. "Miss? Would you like to dance?"

"Uh- " What? I look from him, with wide, surprised eyes to Miss Peaches who just looks pretty darn amused at it - in other words, entirely unhelpful, - , as I feel quite put on the spot and unsure. What is he doing?? The whole room seems to still once again, noticing the scene that Matt is creating, and I glance Harper's way.

His sullen look has just begun to look hazardous to anyone standing near to him and I fight not wince under its power, myself.

Matt breaks his gaze from its locked position with Harper's, and looks down to me; His gaze softens, a bit, and I understand that he's only trying to make me feel better. And if this whole thing wasn't fraudulent in the first place I would probably be grateful. So letting out a careful breath, letting go of my nerves and surprise at being put in a position like this, I place my hand in his and let him guide me up to my feet.

Oh god- now I just really want everyone to stop looking, at us. At me. Stop, stop, stop-

A booming clap sounds throughout the room, and just like that everyone's attention is stolen clean away by our enigmatic mayor, who's stood up and grinning. "What a good idea! Go on everyone, lets have ourselves a good old-fashioned hoedown. Grab a partner and get to the dance floor!"

As everyone immediately starts liking that idea and getting up from their seats, and music starts play from the little wooden stage in the corner, I let myself relax. Thank god. Bless that man. Long live the mayor.

"Hey, so, are you okay?" I'm broken from my relieved thoughts, as Matt walks me to the middle of the dance floor and guides me in front of him- setting one hand on my waist while the other holds my hand. His words are sweet and low, so no one else really hears, and damn- I'm going to sure be mournful when he dies. Even if he is a yank.

Offering him a small, strong smile as we begin to dance to the reasonably paced guitar music, I set the hand of mine that isn't holding his securely up onto his shoulder. He's just wearing a sleeveless under shirt, so I feel a bit of the skin of his shoulder which is odd but I've long since given up holding new-comers to any of the same expectations we have. "I'm holding up, thank you. I just never thought he would do something like that... its so not Harper... "

Speaking of Harper, I glance around the room slowly to see where he is now, and catch his glare from the side of the room with Miss Peaches. Evidently she's asking him if he wants to dance with her while I'm busy, but he seems unresponsive. Too busy playing jealous.

I quickly look away. Matt shrugs. "Yeah well, you can never really tell with douchebags. Sometimes they're real nice guys, until they aren't."

"Yeah... I guess so... "

"Anyway," Matt suddenly lets go of my waist, carries my hand up to above our heads, and spins me. A cant help the delighted giggle that tumbles out of me at the move, my skirts flying around me before he pulls me back to his body. He flashes me a grin back, and as the music's tempo speeds up, so do we- the dance becoming faster, and more fun. "Lets see if I can distract you from that bullshit for a little while."

Smirking back to him, I feel like forgetting about who I'm supposed to be, now - engaged and heartbroken, - in order to just have some fun. Because damn, it has been a long time. Yes at parties I dance with men - Lester, Hucklebilly, Buckman. Even Granny, though she isn't a man, - but that's not really the same. That's like dancing with my brothers, or my father - or mother, - . Theirs nothing quite like dancing with a man you don't know, not because you want him to court you or because he wants to court you, but just for fun.

"Lets see if you can."

~

A couple of hours later I finally sit back down again, a beam on my face and my cheeks warm - aching for a glass of water or twelve, - as Matt excuses himself to go to the bathroom- but promises that he'll be back. "Take your time, I'll be here!"

He smiles, patting my shoulder comfortingly, before turning and heading off out of the building.

Its a few moments later, after I've acquired a drink of water and am sipping at it at the bar, that Harper slips into the seat next to me. I turn and- immediately, catch myself. I was about to smile, and ask him how his night is going.

But I remembered just in time that I am supposed to be mad at him, and take a deep breath; Looking away again.

Without saying a thing to me, he orders himself a shot of whiskey- a heavily grumpy look on his face. I glance at him, wondering what's going on in his head and if he's had any fun at all tonight or if he's been preoccupied acting like a jealous bastard the whole time. I worry that its turned his actual mood sour.

I hope not.

"So... " He finally speaks, still not looking at me. "You been havin' a good time, with that yank?"

"Um... " Glancing around us, I see a group of the yankee girls nearby within hearing distance, and look nervously at Harper. Because for whatever reason, I get the inkling that he isn't acting anymore, and I don't want him thinking that anything that comes out of my mouth, is true. "That's... not, really, any of your business- is it?"

Finally he looks at me, and theirs a pissed off gleam in his brown eyes as he looks down on me. "Oh yes it is. You're my fiancé, ain't ya?"

My jaw nearly damn well drops. Has he been drinking before now?? I didn't see him dancing at all throughout the night. What's wrong with him? Theirs definitely something odd about what he's saying; How he's looking.

Not even Harper is this good of an actor.

"Harper... " Lowering my voice and leaning closer, I tug gently at the side of his clean white shirt. "Are you alright? Do you want to leave and talk?- "

"What's happenin' here, huh?" Oh for fucks sake- I turn to see Matt suddenly back, on my other side and standing over both Harper and I- but turning his stony, protective, angry look on my 'fiancé', obviously. I mean, I appreciate the efforts but you really have the worst timing, Mathew-

Harper doesn't back down even an inch from the more imposing figure that is my dancing partner for the evening. In fact he just pulls up his whiskey to his lips, letting his hand dangle lazily before him as he raises his brows at Matt. "I'm talkin' to my lady, a'course. What are you doin'?"

"Oh, your lady?" Matt scoffs, and I feel like red lights should be flashing and alarms should be blaring. Their tones are dangerous. "First of all, this is the twenty first century man so she has a name. Second of all- did you mean Y/N or the girl two seats down from you?"

Oh, hell. My eyes widen as that particular dig leaves Matts lips and, knowing Harper's already prickly personality, turn slowly to him. A flickering of a tiny - dangerous, - smile flashes across his lips as he nods and looks away, before taking the whole contents of his glass in one go. Then he turns to me - to me! - , an only marginally softer look in his eyes. "Y/N, lets go."

"Uh- " I cut myself off, unsure of how to respond. He continues to look at me, waiting impatiently for my response, and Matt looks swiftly down at me before picking up for, me.

"Y/N's not going anywhere with you if she doesn't want to, man. So back off."

"My apologies, was I talking to you?" Harper turns his gaze up to Matt again, and my eyes tear around the room for some help, but for the first time today no one, is stopping to witness the drama.

Hell, violence could be ensuing, and no one here cares?? Seriously?! How drunk is everyone?!

"No, but someone has to be good to Y/N."

Harper doesn't flinch but you can tell that he wanted to, as one of his eyes slowly squints, and the frown lines in his face deepen. "... do you wanna take this outside?"

Immediately I whip around to face him fully. A hand slamming down on the table between us and I am deeply concerned. "Harper do you even see the size of this man!?"

"Love to, but I don't feel the need to remedy all my problems with violence, mate." Matt smirks, crossing his arms. And first of all, thank god, but also- the look on Harper's face at hearing that is horrifying. How could this man have made things worse, by not punching Harper in the face?! Now I kind of wish they had gone outside.

"Okay!" Before Harper can respond, or take out the sharp throwing object I know he has in his pocket, I get up out of my seat and back off from them both. "You both need to stop this, before it becomes a dick measuring contest. First of all, Matt, I had a really lovely night so thank you, but I'm leaving now, so goodbye. Harper- " The moment I turn to him, I stall, and calm down. And I mean it, when I say; "I'll talk to you, later."

Then I turn around and head for the door so that I can walk out into the night and go home- when I suddenly hear a horrible hitting noise and a crash, followed by gasps and Buckman yelling 'HELL'- and whip right back around. My eyes blow open wide the moment that I see Matt, fallen into a chair behind him holding his jaw, and Harper shaking out his fist, still managing to look tough even as his fist must be killing him, looking down on Matt. I gape, about to say something - or yell something, - but Harper suddenly turns to me, and grabs my hand on his way storming through the horrified crowd and out of the building. I just try to keep up so he doesn't tear my arm off.

Once we're down the road a bit, I manage to rip my arm back away from him, and get glare in response. I tough it out, though, and scowl back at him. "Harper what the hell?? I mean I know we're kind of invested in our scheme but you're acting weird, now. And- you- you hit him! Why would you do that??? What is wrong with you??"

"'It's what my 'character', woulda done," He almost growls, through grit teeth.

"You really don't have to go that far, Harp!" He really, really, doesn't!

Rolling his eyes up into his skull, I watch as he finally takes in a deep breath- hands on his hips, bracing himself. After a moment of silence, and I'm thinking he's calming down now thankfully, his gaze flashes to me and I see clearly that he's still burning.

Reaching over to me, he once again takes my hand in his and drags me off. Not quite so angrily this time, so I don't fear that my arm will be removed from my shoulder at all at least, but I'm still totally lost. Where are we going, now??

We don't go far, as it turns out, and he quickly presses me against a wall between two houses close by to where we were, and in the darkness I can just make out a clearer look entering his eyes, finally. Like his sight is finally, - finally, finally! - not so clouded by fury anymore, as he breathes in fresh night time air. Silently, I watch, waiting for him to speak first.

Is he okay??

Taking his hands off of me, he runs a hand back through his hair, and finally lets his shoulders relax. "... Okay. Okay. I'm fine, now. Sorry for makin' you uncomfortable."

"Are... are you sure you're alright? Do you want to talk about what just happened??" Because I definitely think we should-

"My character just got away from me, that's all. I got too into it... I apologise." Yeah, he says that, but he still isn't looking me in the eye. Everywhere but my eye, actually. And an idea occurs to me that makes my heart start to beat louder, in my ears. Carefully, I reach up, and lay one hand on his shoulder while the other curls up into his hair.

I literally feel his body relax more, under my touch. A sigh escapes him, that I'm sure he would've preferred me not hear. So he looks stony, again.

Letting go of my bottom lip, as I had nervously been chewing it, my gaze flickers up to his face. "Um, would it help, if... my character, were to, 'forgive', you?" Still against his better judgement I'm sure, Harper perks up, at my suggestion. I set him with a focused, serious look. "Because she does. She knows that you have to touch other girls and its not because you want to, and in fact it has nothing to do with her. Me."

"... yeah?"

I nod. "Yes." Giving him a smile, I start to take my hand away from him and step away. "So don't fret! We're okay. Still engaged, and in 'love'- "

Suddenly, before I can get away completely, Harper grabs my hand again and tugs me back- and further, to his lips, where he presses a passionate kiss. A moan is torn out of me immediately and my eyes quickly fall shut, reciprocating before I can think better of it.

This happens a lot, now; The kissing. It helps us get into character, I suppose. Makes us feel like two people who are actually in love, rather then Y/N and Harper who just pretend to be. And it feels really, really good.

He pulls back not even an inches worth of space for a moment, solely for air, and my eyes crack open a tiny bit; Enough to see him gulping down air so he can come back. "Harper... "

He presses right back quickly, guiding me forward back into the wall behind me. Wood digs into my spine but I cant bring myself to care, too wrapped up in the body of the man kissing the hell out of me and my endeavour to taste him back, and maybe gouge a moan or two from him. Because I want to hear it. I don't know why, but I need to. I feel like all I ever see from him is spite and crankiness and I need to know he has more, for me. Especially, for me.

Tugging gently on some of his hair seems to win me what I wanted, as I swallow the vibrations of his groans. Then I slowly pull back, my heels finding the ground again and opening my eyes delicately, and look up at him as he sighs; Understanding that its over as he still leans over me.

Tilting my head, breathing slowly in order to return to former breathing patterns, I catch his gaze. "... Feeling better?" My voice is low, talking carefully as I look up at him from beneath my eyelids.

"... almost."

"Hm?" What else can I do? I'm just wondering what else it could possibly be that he, or his character, wants from me when to my surprise Harper slips down to one knee before me. My eyes widen slightly, looking down at him and wondering what he is doing. "Harp? Your knee hurt?"

He takes my hand in his and, not looking me in the eye as my heart starts to beat unbelievably louder- the sound reverberating hot in my ears. "I just figured, that, our engagement is missin' something."

Oh... Harper takes his mothers ring back out of his pocket, and slips it back onto my fourth finger; Where it now lives. "Y/N L/N, we've known eachother a long time now, basically our whole lives... unfortunately, I think I've only just cracked the surface of what their is to know when it comes to you... and I'd sure like to spend the rest of my life trying to learn the rest."

"Aw... Now, I kinda regret that we didn't do this in front of people. You did that really, well. And telling me my last name! Nice touch." I tell him, because its true, but adding a little joke because I have to as I slip my hand out of his grasp and examine the ring back in its place. My ring.

It really is pretty.

"I ain't done." My eyes snap back to Harper's and my cheeks heat up even more then they had been already, and close my mouth quick.

"Oh."

Flashing a little smile that looks so good on him, he tilts his head. I nearly forget that this is fake. "Will you marry me?"

Breath hitching, because that is the softest, least disapproving-of-me thing he has ever said and it makes my stomach drop- In a good way. But I hope that he does not see how mushy he's made me- because that might complicate things.

He might think I'm falling for him... And I'm not...

I try to keep it out of my voice as I respond, even as a gentle smile warms onto my face. "Yes, Harper Alexander... I will marry you. Now get back up here."

He smirks and gets up, and I lean up to press a quality kiss to his lips, in thank you. When I pull back, he picks up my left hand in his and I catch a serious and forlorn look cross his face as he looks at the ring. His voice is quiet but firm when he speaks. "... I don't want you ever taking this ring off, again. I didn't care for that, at all."

"Well it was just for show... "

His jaw clenches. "I know."

"Hey- " I grab his arm, pulling him gently but abruptly from whatever angry place he was disappearing back into, and flash him a comforting grin. "How about we don't go back to the bar. We can just go back to my house, and avoid the headache. Alright?"

"I'd like that." He grins, a lovely grin that we very rarely see on on him anymore unless he's faking it, a hand hovering over the small of my back as we turn and start heading off to my house.

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[chibinekochan]

Cherry Serpent - ft. Levi / reader

In this au you are a member of a semi famous j pop group, named Cherry Serpent. 

You are a human exchange student and asked Lucifer and Diavolo to keep your fame a secret, since you desire to live a normal life, at least in the devildom. Lucifer doesn't get it but is fine with this. You also get your own little portal so you can travel freely between the worlds. Soon you find out that Levi is your biggest fan.

  Small side notes - Cherry Serpent is an enby group, their whole aesthetic is based around snakes and cherries with an overall cute look. The group has 5 members.

Your character is Sakura, who is the cute one of the group. You wear a wig and contacts on stage. With some pretty heavy makeup. 

Here is how I picture Mc's stage outfit.

  Pairing: Levi x reader

2.5k words

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At the start of your exchange program you didn't hear any mention of cherry serpent. It's not a huge surprise and honestly it's a relief. You don't have to worry about anything and just be yourself. 

On stage you must play the role of the cutie with a love for cherries. In reality you are a huge anime and game nerd with a love for hoodies. Most people would be very disappointed if they knew. At least you believe that. 

Not long after coming to the devildom you become friends with Levi. You find it very easy to be around Levi. He never judges you for anything and it's very relaxing to be with him.

  Everything is going very well. You feel much more relaxed and your idol carrier is also going well.

  Well, at least until the day you walk into Levi's room and find a huge poster of your own face staring right back at you. 

You stare at it in awe. You can remember the photoshoot very vividly.

  “Hey perfect timing. I was just about to tell you about my newest treasure. Look at this beauty. It's so rare for Sakura to have a photoshoot, they are very shy. I relate so much. I'm so happy. I mean it's super rare merch.” Levi is very happy, so happy that he doesn't realize that you have gotten a bit pale. Now he will surely notice that you are Sakura. I mean it's literally your face but like 3 times bigger than you are. 

“Oh, wow that's pretty cool.” You try to not show your distress. 

“Sakura is just so cute, look at their signature hand sign. I mean I have pre-ordered the new CD of course. Actually about 500 of them. I know it sounds like a lot but they have limited photos of them all and a chance to win a vip ticket for the next concert.” Levi is in full fan mode. 

It's pretty sweet of him to be this excited about it. Even when 500 copies seems a bit too much to you. 

“You really are a huge cherry serpent fan.” You never thought that a demon would ever be your fan, especially since you have not heard a single thing about it since your arrival. 

“Ohhh, you know about them? Don't tell me you are a fellow cs stan?” Levi's eyes light up. 

You bite your lips, darn you forgot that your group is just semi famous even by human standards, it's rare to meet a person that recognizes you just from a poster. 

“I have heard about them.” You try to be vague. 

“That's so cool! Who is your favorite? I mean I'm a full Sakura stan. Maybe I'm biased but when I first heard their first solo single 'cherry beast.' I was so excited and they sang about the love between a sea beast and a human. It was so touching. Ever since that day, I've been their biggest fan.” Levi has stars in his eyes.

  This is pretty embarrassing. You can't help but blush a little, of course you had people tell you things like this before during handshake events but they all were strangers. 

This here is different, it's your friend telling you how much they love your work. Even when Levi doesn't know that you are Sakura.

  “I think they are all great but why Sakura?” You wonder a bit about this. 

“Well, other than their cute outfit, they have the best voice, the best signature move. They always encourage everyone. Like one day I felt very down and sent a request to their radio show and Sakura was so sweet and really encouraged me. I know Sakura isn't the best dancer but they always train so hard and improve so much everyday. I honestly want to be more like that. We also share a love for water creatures. I mean their favorite pet is a fish, despite them only being able to have a toy fish due to their busy life. Such a tragedy.” Levi seems unable to stop himself.

  This makes you smile. You have never heard anyone say such sweet things about you. 

“I know it must sound funny to you.” Levi seems a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh no, you were just so cute that I couldn't help smiling.” You are telling at least half of the truth. 

Levi blushes.“ You shouldn't tease me like this.” He is pouting. 

You giggle a little. “Sorry Levi.”

“Now that I think about it, you are similar to Sakura.” Levi looks closely at you.

Did he notice who you really are? 

“What do you mean?” You shift nervously around.

“You always encourage me too.” Levi gives you a smile. 

Now you feel a bit embarrassed.“That's very sweet of you to say Levi.” 

“I also think that you look similar.” Levi says this very quietly. 

“I'm not sure if I do.” You can't say that you don't look like this at all. 

“Well, how about we listen to their old CD and play some games?” Levi is utterly embarrassed again and just tries to move on.

  You welcome this chance. 

After a few games you both take a break. 

The CD is still running in the background, it's pretty surreal. What are you going to do when Levi notices that this is your voice?

  All kinds of thoughts keep running through your head for the rest of the day. 

Why does Levi have to be your fan boy? 

It's not like you want to hide this from him but how will he react once you tell him the truth?

He will be disappointed in you for sure. You basically lied to your best friend. 

You ponder about this for the rest of the night. Causing you to be very tired the next day.

  Asmo sees you and can't help himself to mention it.“Don't tell me that you have been gaming all night again? You have an awful complexion. Well, nothing that I can't fix of course.” He shakes his head. 

“Not this time Asmo. I just have been thinking about some stuff.” You sigh lightly. 

“What kind of stuff? I'm glad to hear you out you know.” Asmo tries to be supportive. 

You honestly appreciate this, especially today. “I can't really talk about it here.” You are afraid that Levi will overhear you. 

“In that case you should come to my room later.” Asmo gives you a suggestive smile. 

“If you mean to talk then I'm willing to come.” You know that he means no harm. 

“Alright, we will just have some snacks and tea and talk about all of your troubles.” Asmo shrugs and casually changes his tone. 

In the end he is a good friend. 

“I will bring your favorite cupcakes to make it up to you.” You give him a soft smile. 

“Now that is a plan. I'm looking forward to it.” Asmo is genuine about this and you are grateful.

  Later in the day you go to Asmos room with the promised cupcakes. 

Asmo is delighted. It seems like he is really looking forward to this. 

You both sit down and have some tea before starting your conversation.

  “I will get straight to the issue. I have a secret from my best friend and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.” You aren't sure how much you should tell Asmo. 

“Is this about you being a member of cherry serpent?” Asmo says this very casually, while you almost spit your tea out. 

“How do you know that?” You are too surprised to deny anything. 

“Please, I've known ever since we went to karaoke. Levi might be too blind to see it but I have heard enough of your music to recognize your voice. I mean your stage makeup is great but it's clearly you.” Asmo just shakes his head. 

“You knew all this time but never once mentioned it?” You are pretty baffled. 

“I know how it is to be in the spotlight and figured that you had reasons to hide it. I knew you would come forward when you are ready.” Asmo keeps sipping his tea. It's honestly amazing to you. 

“That was very nice of you Asmo.” You feel honestly touched. 

“Does that mean that you have finally fallen for me?” Asmo gives you a flirty smile. 

“Nope, I'm just glad that you support me.” You shoot him down with a smile. 

“Too bad. Well, anyway, I think you should tell Levi. I know he is your fanboy. I mean technically of Sakura, but I'm sure he will be happy to know that you are his favorite idol.”Asmo casually moves on and then gives you his suggestion. 

“I'm afraid that he will see me differently than now and I also don't want him to hate me. I hid this from him all this time after all.” Both things weigh equally on your mind. 

“He will figure it out sooner or later. If he finds this out from anyone else he will be much more hurt.” Asmo says this gently while still being firm. 

You can only agree and nod. “You are right.” You feel sad about this.

The last thing you want is for Levi to treat you differently. 

“Of course I'm right, and you know it's not the worst thing in the world to have your own personal cheerleader.” Asmo doesn't really understand your issue. 

“I just want to stay close to him. I can't do that if he is only my fan boy.” You shake your head. 

“You should tell him that. I don't think Levi will stop being your friend first and fanboy second. Maybe your relationship will change but that's not always a bad thing.” Asmo gives you some much needed encouragement. 

“You are right. Thank you for your help Asmo.” You give him a heartfelt smile. 

Asmo seems slightly troubled for a moment but then smiles as usual once again. “Everything for you.”

You spend some time with Asmo, catching up on the latest devildom gossip. 

After talking about anything you feel much better.

  You go back to your room and see a load of messages from Levi. 

It seems like he got tickets for an upcoming concert. All is well and good but it's a cherry serpent concert. 

Now you really need to come clean to Levi.

  After thinking for hours about the right way to gently break the news, you invite Levi over to your room.

  Not long after Levi arrives. He is still very giddy over the tickets. He almost seems to sparkle. “Hey, there. I guess you also wanted to celebrate the great news right? I have brought some snacks and some other stuff.” As usual he has brought some seemingly random things with him.

“Come in Levi. We really need to talk.” You give him a nervous smile. 

“Is the moment where you break up with me? Wait, we aren't dating…” Levi seems pretty confused. 

“Stop fooling around. There is something that I really need to tell you.” You feel slightly annoyed at his joke. 

“Alright, sorry…” Levi gets serious in an instant. One hundred reasons why you want to talk to him in such a serious manner race threw his head. No reason is a good one.

  Levi sits down, trying to prepare himself for whatever you will drop on him. 

“I know what I'm about to tell you will probably be upsetting. You should know that you are my best friend and if possible I want you to see me the same way as you see me now. You see, I have a big secret that I kept from everyone.” You take a small breath,“I'm a member of cherry serpent. To be more precise I'm Sakura.” 

You prepare yourself for whatever Levi will throw at you. His possible anger or hurt.

What hits you is stunned silence. Levi looks at you like he can't comprehend your words at all.

  It takes him a moment to get over the sheer shock of this information. “W-wait.. Hold it right there! You are SAKURA? Since when? Wait that's a stupid question. Are you serious right now?” Levi has huge issues understanding what you are saying. 

“It's true Levi. I'm sorry I have been hiding this for so long.” You feel pretty guilty. 

“Never mind that part but you are telling me that I'm friends with Sakura? THE SAKURA FROM CHERRY SERPENT?? I can't believe it!” Levi seems to struggle with his emotions but he seems pretty happy. 

“Well you are friends with me. I just happened to be Sakura as an idol.” You feel like you really need to point this out. 

“Oh yeah. That is an important distinction. So, you are telling me that my best friend is not only an idol but also my favorite idol on top of that?” Levi's confusion seems completely gone. He is very excited. 

“Yes, that's right. I mean, I didn't know that Sakura is your favorite idol.” This point is a bit embarrassing to you. 

“Now they definitely are. I mean my best friend is Sakura. So of course Sakura is my favorite idol.” Levi says this without any hesitation. 

This makes you smile. “That is very sweet of you Levi.”

Somehow this causes Levi to blush.“Stop being so unfair.” He mumbles. 

“Does that mean that you aren't mad? I mean, I've been lying to you for a pretty long time.” You are still bothered by it. 

“I'm not mad. I actually can't believe that I never noticed. In hindsight, I was pretty blind.” Levi seems to beat himself up more than anything. 

“I look very different on stage. I bet most people would be very disappointed by my normal appearance.” You give him a small smile. 

“Everyone that says that is a huge idiot. You are even better than Sakura in my opinion.” Levi seems a bit offended by your statement. 

This makes you giggle. “You truly are my biggest fan, aren't you Levi?” 

“Damn right I am! I will continue to support you and I will take your secret to my grave.” Levi says this with unusual confidence. It's something you can only see when he beats the final boss of a game. 

“You are the best!” You give him a big hug.

  This makes Levi freeze on the spot. “Hey, no surprise attacks!” 

You burst out laughing, there is your usual Levi. “Sorry Levi.”

“It's not like I hate it, but you should warn me.” Levi pouts a little.

You are just glad that your friendship is safe.

  On the day of your concert Levi joins the rest of your fans, as usual. 

Thanks to his great efforts he is far upfront. Waving his glowsticks. 

This is a very familiar sight to you. When you notice him your eyes meet just for a moment and you give him an extra smile while doing your signature move, just for him.

  Then you notice that Levi wears a shirt with your name on it. Not with his usual Sakura gear but your real name.

  What a sweet surprise. 

[stanzoeywade]

Maybe juuuuuust the 9th month spending the quarentine together??? Ahajjajajja poppy x mc ofc

Quarantine headcanons (Poppy x MC)

Summary: 9 months of quarantine headcanons of Poppy and MC, as requested by my fellow simp Gabu.

Taglist: @somewillwin @uhh-the-green-thing @jmojellybae @simp-pony @made-me-deep-blue @uselesslesbianfr @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @belvoiresqueenbee @alexlabhont @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @sparring-hyena

It's been 9 months since quarantine started, and it's been stressful to say the least, sure there are ups and downs but overall the stress of studying at home and not having any social events was starting to drive Poppy mad. She's not used to staying at home for prolonged periods of time, as she always has to be on the move, doing something or going somewhere. It could be hosting parties or visiting the animal shelter to see if any of them have been adopted, so it's safe to say that Poppy isn't a homebody.

Poppy doesn't say anything but she's actually very worried about the animals in the shelter, especially since it seems like a lot of animals are being found as strays, due to people not being able to afford or care for their pets, leaving them no choice but to give them up for adoption.

It obviously stresses her out because the shelter is the one place she truly cares for, and she genuinely adores all of the animals that are there and she's grateful that the volunteers do their best even in these uncertain times, whilst Poppy can be mean and vicious, she can also be generous, making sure that the volunteers are actually paid for the work that they do, as she knows that the ongoing pandemic must make it hard.

You on the other hand genuinely hate being cooped up inside, not being able to do anything, sure you're allowed to go outside for exercise but it's not really enough to help, especially since you've been feeling so burnt out since all you do is attend zoom classes that barely make sense and the sad puppy eyes given to you by the Professor isn't exactly making things fun. You thought that online class would make things less awkward but it seems that the Professor is hellbent on giving you those longing puppy eyes. 

The stares are so noticeable that Poppy scoffs and rolls her eyes for everyone to see and hear, it genuinely makes you laugh. Especially since even when she frowns she still manages to look gorgeous and it's unfair but that's just how she is. Gorgeous without trying. Poppy looks bored but also immaculate at the same time. Just because classes are online, doesn't mean that Poppy isn't going to dress up and look pretty. You honestly don't understand where she gets her energy from, opting to show up to class in your hoodies and sweatpants looking like you just dragged yourself off bed.

However, there have been times where you wake up early only to see Poppy getting ready for class, and let's just say that this causes you both to miss out, due to - ehem - "fun times". In which Poppy's lipstick ends up all over your body and her hair is all tousled up, and honestly, you've never seen anything more beautiful. (that's probably the whipped talking but you're not complaining because Poppy always looks fucking gorgeous, and any moment spent with her is always guaranteed to make you happy)

Remember when quarantine first started and Poppy barely knew how to cook without almost killing somebody? Well she's improved and she's actually wife material now. Who knew Poppy would actually enjoy cooking? It's one of her favourite moments actually, just spending time with you and it's so domestic that she actually has visions of a future with you. (not that she'd ever tell you but she genuinely is falling for you more and more each day) 

When things get too stressful and you both get frustrated over something, this can lead to arguments, and things are said even if you don't mean them. Since you're both stubborn, no one apologises even if you both feel bad. Things are sorted when Poppy actually gives in and apologises first, and you can't help but be shocked since Poppy almost never apologises. You two discuss things like normal adults, and this becomes a daily ritual where at the end of a stressful day you both ask each other how you're feeling and just vent to let it all out.

Another thing that Poppy will never admit is that she actually enjoys going out to go grocery shopping, it gives her time away from home and it's at times like these that she can actually imagine a future with you and the fact that it gives her a sense of normalcy because she can just get away from the stress of university and everything else.

Overall, Poppy is actually a pretty darn sweet person, she's just emotionally constipated, with her upbringing, especially since she knew that she wasn't really of Sinclair blood, she was a bastard child, and her father never accepted her no matter how hard she tried to be perfect. Not that anything she did was ever enough, Piers never really cared about her, only stepping up when it was revealed that she was a bastard child, in which he vehemently denied to the public even if everyone knew. 

Poppy has moments where she just needs some space and alone time, and at times like these the best thing to do would be to do little things to show that you care. Whether it be bringing her food or a cup of tea, she'll always be thankful.

9 months is a long time, and you and Poppy learn and discover new things about the other every day, and it's domestic as fuck and both of you learn to love each other more and more as the days go by.

Poppy will literally just steal all of your sweatpants and hoodies, it's warm and comfy and as soon as class is over, she's off to go read or make notes all comfy and cute. You can't help but take photos because Poppy Min-Sinclair is fucking adorable. She could wear a trash bag and you'd still be head over heels.

NSFW HCS

During the quarantine, there's something new that you learnt about Poppy, namely the fact that she could care less about her zoom class/meeting. There's been more than one occasion where Poppy left the lecture on as she muted and turned off the camera so that you two could get it on. Everyone just thinks that Poppy is being herself by not really giving a shit because even if she skips she still manages to achieve good grades. Veronica and Chloe know what's up though, the two are so fucking done, considering their rooms aren't really far away and the walls aren't exactly sound proof so you two get teased a lot.

You fire back at Veronica though, because no matter how much she calls you and Poppy out, you can also fire back and tease her about Zoey, considering they're quarantined together. (I will go down with this ship. Two tol hotties together uhm yes)

Poppy is a switch, but she's also very bratty when bottoming, she loves when you eat her out during class though, especially if it's during anthropology class because she's a petty hoe, and she hates Professor Kingsley so lol.

Hope you enjoyed GABU, I haven't written anything in a while so my braincell aren't that good. Hopefully I did this request justice lol.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I know it might be too soon cause I just got into them but I had a mighty need 😔😔 also no one writes anything for my babie Keonhee wtf- (this one has been completed in my drafts before the haechan one 🙃)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!oneus, mentions of crossdressing, mentions of petplay, mentions of bondage

Oneus as Camboys

Ravn

Alright, so we all know the confidence this man holds so he was made to be a camboy and I will not fight on this. Of course, as the prettiest boy, he gets a lot of attention right off the bat. He seems so cocky at the beginning of his streams which make viewers question if he's submissive at all, but then he'll whip out a fucking machine and proceed to get railed until enough comments give him permission to stop. If he ends up cumming before then he'll let it run for a little bit longer to overstimulate himself as his punishment, even when no one tells him to. He thrives off the comments that tell him how pretty he looks (which of course he already knows that but it never hurts to hear it again-), so much so that if he's getting close he'll start to ask the viewers if he's pretty just to help bring him over the edge. One of the viewers even mentioned that he looked similar to a kitten so the next stream he did he wore some cat ears he had laying around the house (no one knows where they came from or why he had them laying around but-). Now he never takes them off. Someone even bought him a cute little collar with a bell on it that everyone was thankful for cause it jingled everytime he moved and it only made him even cuter 😔.

Seoho

This man has the sweetest face so the first time people started watching him they were very confused as to why such a sweet looking boy is doing something this dirty. Originally he didn't know what he would be doing but the second people started telling him how precious he looked he knew he had found his act. (Of course everything he does on camera is just an act and you really wish he would listened to you as much as he listens to his viewers sometimes but nope, you get left with the bratty bitch we all know and reluctantly love) He'll log on wearing big sweaters and panties that barely cover him up, and he'll let people buy him toys for him to use on the stream. When these gifts arrive he acts clueless as to what they're supposed to do, asking viewers if he's doing it right every five minutes cause he's just a big dumb babie that needs to be told what to do all the time 😔😔. Towards the end of his streams when he's coming down from his high, and he's all shaky and covered in his own cum, he'll look toward the camera and murmur "Was I a good boy for you?" Which of course makes everyone's hearts burst then and there. Then he'll just lay there for a minute or two, all smiley and giggly as he reads through all of the comments telling him how good he'd been and how proud they are of him :(. There are also times he'll claim that he's a virgin which no one knows if it's true or not it's definitely not but they roll with it cause he's just too darn cute.

Leedo

Everyone was hyped as soon as he started making his own streams after seeing him appear in one of Hwanwoong's. They were a little surprised to see him all shy and awkward after seeing him pounding into one of his friends but he's hot so no one questioned it that much. His first stream he didn't really know what to do so he's just awkwardly touching himself, trying his best not to look at the camera. The first time he glanced up, his eyes landed on a simple comment that said 'you don't have to be so shy baby, you look so pretty :)' and everyone sees his cock jump in his hold as he murmurs "I'm.. pretty…?" under his breath. From that moment on everyone flooded the comments telling him how cute he was and he was finally able to relax a little. Someone mentioned that he whimpered so much he might as well be a dog, so it really wasn't surprising that he received a package a few days later with some puppy ears and a collar. Let's just say he enjoyed the collar a lot more than he thought he would. He'll start off quiet and shy but as he gets closer and closer to his release he can't hold back how loud he is. To 'spice things up a little' he wanted to do a stream where he cums without him touching himself, which leads to someone asking him to hump a pillow for them like the desperate puppy that he is. He enjoyed it a lot and has done many videos with it since then. But overall he's just the sweetest puppy who's ready to please 🥺💔

Keonhee

I genuinely don't know why I wanna tie this man up so bad but we're gonna roll with it. His first ever stream isn't meant to be sexual, he's just asking for advice on how he should tie his shibari cause he wants to surprise his girlfriend. The next one is of him showing off what he learned, and he's smiling so wide cause he's all proud of himself :(. But he starts to notice a bunch of comments telling him how pretty he is and how much they would pay to see him in nothing but the red ropes he had tied around him. He thinks about it for a bit before asking if you're ok with it (cause the sweet boy would never want to do something you're uncomfortable with) and after getting the go ahead he starts his camboy career. You tend to stick around behind the camera while he's filming cause 1) he tends to be more confident when you're with him and 2) he needs someone to help untie him when he's done (and secret reason 3) he gets really turned on by you watching him doing something so filthy). Let's say, giving a totally random example, he finishes up a stream where he's been tied up and gagged as he helplessly writhes around with a vibrating buttplug in and after the camera goes off, instead of untying him you take out the plug and replace it with your strap to make him cum again and again until you've drained him of everything he has to offer. Theoretically, if that ever happened, he wouldn't be against it- 👀 theoretically of course.

Hwanwoong

No one is surprised this man has a camboy account. He's the most likely to have one out of all the boys and everyone knows it. He's such a whore- But anyways everyone who watches him has a size kink. Obviously, everyone logs on to see his tiny body get absolutely ruined and you can't argue with me on this. His streams consist of him inviting over his tall, strong friends to just completely destroy his little hole for the world to see. One friend he invited over really caught people's attention cause of how pretty he was (*cough cough* Leedo *cough cough*) so he tends to keep bringing him back, and even convinces him to start his own camboy account. He's even done a few videos of him giving his friends a lap dance before he gets railed, which made someone mention that he'd make a good stripper and that's how he got his job at the strip club a few miles from his house (and this man would be loaded cause who doesn't want a piece of that?). He doesn't do a lot of streams of him by himself but they tend to be popular when he does. He gets a little shy cause he has to actually read the comments himself instead of someone just telling him how cute he looks as he rides his favorite dildo. Plus when he does it by himself it gives viewers a better view of him instead of another person.

Xion

This sweet boy lives for crossdressing. Originally he just wanted to show off a few cute outfits he had, which blended into him only wearing cute skirts and dresses he buys, and even though he isn't doing anything sexual everyone gives him money cause he's just so precious. One stream he's doing what he always does but things suddenly take a turn when someone tells him that if they were there right now then they would bend him over the nearest surface and fuck him senseless cause he just looks so cute, which leads to him touching himself cause just that one comment got him so worked up. He'll also get into roleplay and stuff too, usually around halloween cause it's easier to find costumes to wear. A fan favorite was a maid costume he bought for a halloween stream for some master/mistress and maid roleplay (Think of this cause I got lost in the world of catboy maids for a hot second the other day). He's been calling his viewers master ever since then cause he kinda likes the humiliation he feels when they call him their dumb little servant. Someone even sent him some cat ears, a collar with a bell, and some cat toe bean thigh highs to really pull his outfit together. He even bought matching pink lace panties to make him even more irresistible. I think out of all the boys he'd be the one to talk with his viewers most cause he just wants to make sure he's doing good for them cause he aims to please.

[fae-leaves]

SFW Headcanon Alphabet (Louis Vincent Chauveau)

I made this a while ago without the intention of posting it, so I forgot who I stole the template from... whoops.

//

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s very affectionate! Will praise you until your ego is bigger than the sun.

If you’re shorter than him he’d give you lots of gentle head pats.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You would most likely meet at either a party or browsing the wine selection at a store.

He’s a very loyal friend and will always be there for you whenever you need him.

If you’re ever sad and need some cheering up, he’s definitely the one to turn to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling

Curling up on the couch with a blanket and a warm drink, staring at the fire or a cheesy romance movie? Absolutely.

Loves cuddling with the cats, too. Any cats, really. It doesn’t matter.

If he sees you snuggled up on the bed with one of the cats, he melts and joins in as quick as he can without disturbing you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He doesn’t mind not being in a committed relationship, he travels a lot and meets tons of new people all the time anyway.

He’s a really clean person. If he’s left alone for too long with nothing to do, the house will be absolutely spotless.

He’s banned from the kitchen. Period. Full stop. End of story.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d ask to meet with you somewhere, preferably where you could have some privacy.

Louis would be super gentle about it and wouldn’t yell or scream, even if you were yelling at him.

He’d probably still want to be friends, but would obviously understand if you didn’t want that.

He’d give you space and be patient with you, and if you ever wanted to talk about it more he’d be open for that.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Due to his past, Louis has a hard time with committed relationships. On one hand, he’s too afraid that he’d hurt you or worse, but on the other he gets attached to people quickly and doesn’t want to leave you.

In the end, he’s fine either way. He just wouldn’t want to be with someone he isn’t 100% sure he’s in love with.

He wouldn’t want to get married/ propose quickly. He’s heard far too many stories about couples getting engaged/ married too quick and then realizing too late that their partner wasn’t exactly what they thought. Give it a few years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he’s pretty darn gentle. After years and years of softly petting animals and playing piano in his free time, he’s trained himself to be as gentle as possible.H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Surprisingly, even though he tends to be a bit handsy, he’s not really one for hugs unless he knows the person.

When he does hug someone it's usually quick, unless he’s close with them.

If he’s close with you then get ready cuz he might not let you go for a while.

Hugs from Louis are warm and make you feel safe, and the scent of his expensive cologne, fine wine, and dark chocolate make it that much better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him a while to say it, due to his past.

He’s scared that if he says it too soon, you’ll leave him or he’ll jinx it and the relationship will turn out bad…

You would end up saying it first, and after a while he’d feel ready to confidently say it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Louis doesn’t get jealous very often. He understands that you have your own life and separate relationships.

If you were in a committed relationship, though, and someone was getting a bit too close to you for his liking, he’d stand right next to you and wrap his arms around you, give you gentle kisses, and mutter sweet nothings to you, all while staring the other person dead in the eye.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He’s a great kisser. He’s had lots of practice, after all~

His favorite places to kiss you (other than your lips, of course) would be your eyes and your forehead.

His favorite place to be kissed is his neck (kinky little f*ck)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He wouldn’t really want any kids of his own, they’re too messy…

But he does love kids, and kids seem to love him, too!

He’d be great at telling dramatic stories to entertain them, and could always find a way to cheer up a sad little kiddo.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

That really depends on the events of the previous night…

If he’s hungover, you’d probably have to comfort him as he transformed into a blanket burrito and tried to sleep off his pounding headache.

Normally, though, Louis would hold you close and give you gentle kisses, rubbing your back and speaking softly.

He tends to wake up early, so he’d probably watch you sleep for a while.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Louis are always amazing.

He’d love to lay out in the garden with a bottle of wine (or perhaps two) and stargaze.

If you wanted something more fast pace, he probably knows of a party or club the two of you could go to.

If you wanted something more calm and loving, cuddles on the couch or a “sleepover” on the livingroom floor while watching all sorts of movies.

If you were looking for something… spicy… Louis would be happy to provide there, too ;)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Some things he’d be open about, but others it would take a long time with lots of trust for him to reveal.

He would definitely open up slowly, too scared that certain events from his life would put you off.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

That depends on the person and the subject, but usually he’s pretty chill.

The only thing that would definitely piss him off 100% of the time is cockatoos.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He tries his best to remember every little detail about you, and usually succeeds.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It’s hard for him to choose!

The moment you met, your first kiss, when you both said “I love you” for the first time, spending quiet nights in the dark with you, dinner by candlelight…

And if you decide to get married and/ or have (a) kid(s)?

He loves everything about you, so it’s impossible for him to pick just one moment to be his favorite.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If Louis thinks you can take care of yourself, he likely won’t bother you by being overly protective.

If there’s ever a situation, however, where he feels you need saving, he won’t hesitate to step in and get you out of the situation.

Since he tends to deprive himself of blood like an idiot, he’ll make sure to stay away from everyone and completely isolate himself until he gets himself back under control.

He’d trust that you’d keep any secrets he tells you, and that you not tell a soul that he’s a vampire.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh boy

This man has more money than he knows what to do with, so obviously he’d spend it all on you! (And wine and fancy clothes and cleaning supplies and chocolate and cat stuff, but we don’t talk about that)

He’d go all out on dates. A fancy restaurant, roses, fine wine, stargazing, anything you could want!

He probably wouldn’t buy you too many gifts on his own, but if you asked for something there’s a pretty darn good chance you’ll get it.

If you thought a date with Louis was great, wait for your anniversary…

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Louis worries a lot… like… a lot.

He’s scared that if he does even the littlest thing wrong, you’ll leave him

He’s also worried that he’ll hurt you, physically and/ or emotionally, without intending to

Because of this, he can sometimes forget to care for himself, only focussing on you

He doesn’t sleep as much as he should, which leaves him tired and drained. It doesn’t help that he’s good at covering it up, either.

Possibly the worst of all his bad habits is the fact that he doesn’t drink enough blood.

He absolutely hates that he has to potentially harm others just to survive, and even though the blood he gets is collected in a completely safe and harmless way, he still has a hard time getting it down.

Not getting enough blood makes him irritable, cranky, and tired, not to mention the physical toll it has on him.

He bottles up his feelings a lot, not wanting to be a burden on others

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

You will never, EVER, see Louis NOT looking fabulous.

He takes every chance he gets to glance at his reflection in the mirror, just to make sure he still looks flawless.

Yes, he does take over an hour to get ready every morning, thank you for asking.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he was truly in love with you, then yes, absolutely.

However, Louis has felt enough rejection and loss in his long life to be able to get over things much quicker than you’d expect.

If it was just a matter of not seeing you for a few days or even a few hours, then yes. No questioning it.

If you have to be separated for an extended period of time, you better be ready for at least a phone call a day, just so he can hear your voice, and a few texts every hour, just to check in on you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Louis hates cockatoos. He was once cursed out by one of the little devils unprovoked, and everyone around laughed at him. He was humiliated by a bird, and here he was thinking his love for our feathery friends was mutual…

His two favorite animals are birds and cats.

Louis doesn’t really like playing piano, but he was forced to learn growing up, and it’s a way to pass the time and possibly impress his partner, sooo…

He hates that since he was born a full blooded vampire, he can’t be cured and has to drink the blood of others just to stay alive.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like super sweet tasting things.

Cockatoos, but we’ve already been over this.

He doesn’t like people who act they’re better than everyone else. Even though he cares a lot about his appearance and social class, he’s aware that not many are fortunate enough to have a good life, and wouldn’t ever judge someone based on their appearance/ social status. Most of the time he ends up finding the less fortunate in life a lot more interesting than those who’ve had everything handed to them on a silver platter.

He also hates other vampires that intentionally harm humans or just others in general to get blood, especially if they can be cured of their vampirism.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleep? Who’s she?

He really doesn’t get enough sleep… usually it’s only 4-5 hours, not consecutive.

When is asleep though, he’s sprawled out over the whole bed, softly snoring, laying on his stomach with his face in the pillows.

He looks incredibly calm and at rest when he’s asleep.

He’s unfortunately a very light sleeper, but loves to pretend to be sleeping if he wakes up to you petting his hair or snuggling against him~

[alyss-spazz-penedo]

@w1lmutt So tbh I probably could’ve had this ninth part of the unedited v!Wind fic out earlier; I already had it mostly written. But on the flip side, I’m sure you’ll be happy know that the whole story's going to be a bit longer than previously expected!

I only took my eyes off them for like a DAY, where did all these new plunnies come from aiieeee 

I don’t want to promise the next part will also be out soon bc that feels too much like jinxing it, but, um. *side-eyes the pages and pages of Stuff I've already scribbled for the next few parts*

TW: The ending scene made me cackle evily when I first thought of it. That's it that's the warning

<<First Part 8 Next>>

Twilight climbs the ladder to the lookout post the newest Link first greeted the traveling heroes from. The kid’s perched there now, kicking his heels in the open air, head resting on arms folded against the railing—just like the first time they’d met.

Such a difference a single day makes.

“Food’s ready,” he announces himself, though there’s no way Phantom hadn’t heard him making his way up. The boy doesn’t respond. Twilight musters up his patience, makes an effort to keep his voice even and nonconfrontational. “Wild made enough stew for everyone. He’s a pretty darn good cook; you’re missing out.”

Phantom doesn’t move. “Don’t need it.”

Twilight frowns. He climbs all the way into the lookout and approaches the slumped form, stopping just outside of striking distance. “You haven’t had anything all day. You need to eat, kid,” he coaxes.

“Fuck off. Don’t patronize me.” There’s no bite to the words. Twilight folds his arms, trying to project sternness. Phantom lackadaisically flips him off without even looking his way.

Twilight sighs. “...Enjoying the view?” He prods instead, changing tack.

“...A little. I’m mostly listening. I’d... forgotten what it sounded like.” A stilted pause. Phantom sighs, so quiet it’s nearly lost on the breeze. “The village, I mean. While it was awake.” 

Twilight, who hadn’t meant to provoke such honesty with his offhand comment, finds himself momentarily derailed. Phantom seems to take his silence as an invitation to continue—or perhaps he’s not talking to the other man at all, anymore.

“Aryll hugged me back today,” he says, blank. “And. Everyone’s awake. I... don’t need to sweep the porches, or trim the grass, or make sure the water in the rainbarrels is still fresh. I...”

One of the seagulls hops closer. Link holds out a hand to it automatically, but it flaps away. He stares down at his empty hand for a long moment before he seems to realize there’s no bait in it.

“It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s not anything new—I should be able to do this, greet my friends and talk to my sister and help out where I’m needed. I used to. I know I used to.”

The silence stretches.

Twilight finally sighs, breaking through the tension that had settled gauzy and ill-defined over them. “I came up here for a reason. I need to talk to you.”

Phantom finally deigns to look at him, giving the other a droll look from the corner of his eye. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be here alone otherwise; you guys have been paired off all day.”

Smartass. Twilight hisses a breath through his teeth. “Look, it’s about Time.”

Phantom tenses.

“You’ve been hurting him. You’re going to stop doing that,” he informs the kid.

Phantom’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not going to attack you guys again. And I apologized for the-”

“I’m not,” Twilight grits out, “talking about a physical wound.”

The boy doesn’t understand. How can the boy not understand? Twilight wants to pick him up and shake him.

“As far as I can tell, your only impressions of him come from legends that reverie him, and memories that hate him. He’s not whoever it is you’ve built up in your head, Phantom. Try opening your damn eyes for a change.”

Twilight stares the younger boy down. He needs the kid to understand: he is deadly serious about this.

The little hero is wide-eyed with confusion, uncertainty grinding away his usual guard. Phantom visibly chews over his words, slow, like they might make sense the third time where they didn’t the first. Skepticism paints his face. He still doesn’t get it. 

But he nods. Agreement, however reluctant. Twilight will take it.

"Now come on," Twilight huffs. He stalks away. "Wild's made food; the least you could do is not let it go to waste."

~o0o~

Phantom picks at his dinner. Like he'd told the Hero of Twilight, he doesn't need it—hasn't bothered with food for a long time, frankly—but refusing to eat after it'd already been doled out to him would be terribly rude. He's not so far gone that he's forgotten all his manners.

He and Aryll sit back-to-back in a ring of people, surrounding the roaring beach fire one of the visitors had made to cook with. It's still odd, feeling something moving and breathing so close to him, but... it’s not so bad when no one’s trying to grab him. He’s fine as long as nothing's moving too quickly in his personal space.

Pressed against his sister now, he remembers the times he'd hug the statues or lean on them for comfort. He throws a few token comments into the soft evening conversation, just to hear those real, actual voices respond to him, and this alone is leagues better than relying on his memory and imagination to fill the silence.

Listening to Aryll’s excited chatter, to the gentle shifting of over a dozen living bodies gathered on the same beach... he realizes how much he’d missed this.

It’s not perfect. But for the first time in a very long while, Phantom finds himself held in the grip of a feeling that could almost pass for peace.

~o0o~

They send Grandma out to sea that night.

Dusk is not the appropriate time for someone to set sail on a long journey. But for her last voyage... the darkness will see her safely to her destination. That’s what the villagers say, at least.

Phantom’s lost his share of people over the years. He hates that he should be used to goodbyes—hates hates hates that this time is different.

(It’s not even that she’s family; he was old enough to remember his parents, after all. No, the difference between Grandma and everyone else he's lost is that he is so much more directly responsible for her death.

He might've loved and missed some of those others comparably, but Grandma... Grandma is one of his mistakes.)

~o0o~

Tetra finally comes to him in the morning.

She’d been avoiding him, and he’d been letting her have her space—no matter how much he ached to have her back again. She had every right to be angry at him, after all.

(He’d failed her. In every way that mattered, he’d failed her.

All that strength and he still couldn’t keep her safe; all that resolve and he still couldn’t get her back before Bellum had dug it’s claws in deeper than he could pry out of her; all that time, and still no Hyrule to show for it. He couldn’t even avenge her, in the end; the traveling heroes had robbed him of that killing blow.)

So of course she’s angry. Of course she’s disappointed in him, of course she's been avoiding him, of course of course.

There is a time and place for regrets, Phantom knows. That time is not now; that place is not here. Not when he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Tetra—his best friend, his partner, his anchor—finally, finally awake.

And yet. And yet.

She stands next to him without a word. They watch the dawn like that—together, with neither able to bear looking at each other.

~o0o~

The sun is fully up by the time her idiot speaks.

He fingers the mark on the back of his hand in lieu of looking her in the eye. “Do you think the power of the gods could bring her back?” He asks. He doesn’t look at her as he says this, gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Not forever. Just... just for a little longer.”

She feels cold. “I thought we’d agreed never to make a wish.”

“...Yeah.”

Tetra scowls. “How seriously are you asking? Is this the grief or the insanity talking right now?”

“I... I don’t know.” His eyes belie this—calculating, intent. He’s looking out at the ocean, but she can’t tell what it is he's actually seeing.

“I heard the story from those other heroes. How long?” She grabs him by the arm, yanks him around until he’s forced to look at her. “How long has it been?” She demands.

Link rips himself away from her touch. “I don’t know,” he lies.

She punches him on the arm for that. He winces but she can tell it’s entirely for her benefit; he’s not hurt at all. Her blows don’t reach him anymore.

She probably hasn’t reached him for a long time, now.

“Give it to me,” she demands—suddenly, inexplicably furious. He regards her warily. She barely recognizes him anymore. “This has gone on for long enough. I never should’ve let you try to carry this power alone. Give me the Triforce, Link.”

Link’s eyes narrow. For a moment, Tetra is convinced he’s going to refuse—that she’s going to have to enlist her crew and maybe those outside heroes to hold the idiot down so she can pry the corruption from his hand. 

But no. Link deflates and, for once in his life, makes things easy for her. “Okay,” he agrees, all wilted and sad and nothing like the spunky kid who once demanded a ride to the Forsaken Fortress from her on this very shore.

She lets him twine their hands together, goddess marked to goddess marked. The symbols glow together, synchronized in a way their bearers used to be, and when they open their eyes Tetra has an extra golden triangle on her hand.

The Triforce of Power is a trip. Link’s eyes are blue again, and they widen in alarm when she pins his wrist, when she seizes him by the collar and drags him around like it’s nothing. “That’s not enough,” she growls. “I said, give me the Triforce. All of it, Link.”

“Tetra- what are you-”

“Give it to me!” She shakes him a little. “Now!”

“No! Have you lost your mind-”

She backhands him. It's the easiest thing in the world.

He goes staggering, one hand flying to his cheek and the other reflexively dragging that terribly familiar sword from thin air. He freezes before he can raise it against her. "Tetra...?"

"Fine." She cracks her knuckles. "The hard way, then."

"What are you doing?"

He looks frightened. Of her. Is this what they've come to, now? Tetra could almost laugh, could almost cry. She draws her blade instead of doing either.

"Making sure something like this never happens again," she vows, eyes burning gold, and strikes without holding back.

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

I love Uyu can we get some Uyu interacting with other cmcs? It’s strawberry milk time

YES and she loves you 💋

Uyu is my main CMC paired with Saeran for those who don’t know! I’m currently planning to introduce her properly as soon as I can and begin posting some writing for her, but one step at a time! I still have a decent amount of her story to plan out and consider still, so she’s up for changes as her development occurs. I’ll be honest, I’m still unfamiliar with many parts of her, but that’s ok and why we’re here learning. Overtime, everything will be more solid. This is probably my most in-depth anything I’ve done for her 00” so again, changes might happen.

Uyu is the type of person to gravitate towards open and honest people, even if their honesty can be seen as bitter or harsh. She wants true friendships, and she can’t lie worth a darn, so she’d rather find others who are honest too. She likes tight, close friendships which create safe spaces for communication and feel more like a family. She’s quiet and shy at first mostly, but make no mistake her sense of humor is probably worse than Seven’s. She is also the type to ride or die for true friends, and she’ll latch on hopefully to what might seem lost sometimes for the better or for the worse.

As you didn’t specify any CMCs, I’m just going to attack yours with how their dynamics might work >:] with 100% honesty as I seriously admire your ability to write complex CMCs/OCs with genuine weaknesses, making them much more human. Some characteristics would definitely clash with her TT, but I actually find it neat. Nothing is ever perfect!

With Cannelle, I can actually see them getting along well if Cannelle is comfortable letting some walls down, especially because at first glance we’re going to see “oh hey! Another Lolita”! That would definitely be a reason for Uyu to initially approach her, starting off with a simple “oh my god I love your dress”. Cannelle’s aesthetic is something I associate with teddy bears, and Uyu is too going to be obsessed with that. Cannelle reminds me of the vibes of the song “We Fell In Love In October”, the fall mixed with elements of warm candles and fireplaces, tea and cookies. Let’s for sure make an Uyu Cannelle picnic real please. I actually think our two girls here can bond over insecurities, as Uyu is the type to let them as well as her anxieties run her over far more often than she’d like to admit. Uyu is always happy to dive into deep conversations with people she can really trust, and if Cannelle feels it’s ok, she’s always there for these kind of talks. Uyu also feels rather undeserving of a lot of things, so if there isn’t any fakeness between the two once they feel ok and ready, I think they could have a genuine friendship and feel understood in some areas.

With Emeraude, Uyu would be rather entranced by her features in all honesty. Girl is a stunner 0-0. Something tells me the two can be rather rougher in their senses of humor with one another, almost like Vanderwood’s reaction to most of what’s going down. Words cannot DESCRIBE how much I adore Emeraude as a character, because she’s genuinely so intriguing, but with honesty, I don’t think Uyu could get along perfectly with her unless Emeraude feels up to being more honest. Another trait Uyu has that can be for the better or for the worse is her sense of empathy for others, which can either be used to yank her strings like a puppet until she’s had enough or can be used to genuinely connect with others. She does “forgive” some bad behaviors to an extent because she understands what it’s like to be influenced by toxic environments and situations, within definite reason. But, the catch is, she won’t stay if you’re not at least lying saying you want to change. On the being a mercenary, she will actually find that pretty interesting and pester her maybe, that is, if Emeraude is proving to be on their side at that moment.

For the negatives here, Uyu actually can’t stand fake people or people with genuine narcissistic tendencies (especially as she looks down on herself to the point where narcissism just seems sort of disgusting and unfathomable). Despite this, she does understand we often wear masks to get through life, she’d rather never wear one at all. Because of course, she used to, and has dealt with things in the past that lead her away from people who behave this way. She tends to put a little too much trust in others who promise her their friendship, loyalty and honesty, so in Emeraude’s BEs, she’s going to be pretty damn heart broken if they build a good friendship. She can be emotional and takes no shit, so expect some very harsh words on her part, even if some she did not or truly could not mean.

[hotpinkrathian]

Double Date

(Kyalin) (Korrasami)

“I still don't understand why you agreed to this." Lin grumbled while Kya buttoned up the neck part on Lin's dress.

"Because, Korra and Asami have been nothing but nice to us since we... made the announcement. And it's good for us, and them."

"I can't possibly comprehend how this much stress is good for me."

"Oh Lin, stop being dramatic and get the keys. We don't want to be late," Kya said, rubbing the back of Lin's shoulders briefly before grabbing a purse and making way to the door. Lin bent the keys to her palm and followed, still grumbling under her breath.

"Hey, look there they are," Asami whispered to Korra, who had enticed herself by making a tune from hitting knives on the glasses.

"Hmm? Oh look, is Lin in a dress?"

"I think so."

"Bolin would love this." Asami nodded in agreement and the two of them played it cool while the older couple took their seats.

"Good evening Korra, Asami," Kya smiled, placing her jacket in the back of the chair.

"Good evening," Asami replied with an equally gentle smile.

"Lin nice dress," Korra blurted, getting an elbow to the stomach from her girlfriend. Lin just stared at her, her arms crossed and the same unamused look on her face.

"So, do you two come to this place often?" Kya asked.

"It's our favourite, it's central too so that helps. Some days we are together from 9 till 5 and others we hardly see each other. We always seem to end up here." Asami explained, taking a sip of her water when she was done.

"Oh I get it, I can't tell you how many times I've had to go to the station to bring Lin home from work."

"It's not that often," Lin protested, weakly. Kya rolled her eyes and Asami stifled a smile.

"Kya have you been to the air temple recently?" Korra asked.

"I was there the other day, why?"

"I was just wondering how everyone was doing. They're not around as much anymore, I hate to admit but I kind of miss Tenzin breathing down my back." Kya laughed and flipped the page of her menu.

"Tenzin has the effect on people. While he's around you hate him, when he's gone you miss him. Everyone's doing good, Jinora has really stepped into her role as a master, and Tenzin thinks that there's another arrow ceremony in the near future."

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for all of them."

"And how about little Rohan?" Asami asked.

"Well, he was crawling like crazy when I saw him, so he's mobile."

"Any sign of bending?"

"Not yet, but they didn't know the others were benders until they were a little older. There's still time." A waitress came, an empty platter in hand and a pencil and paper ready to go.

"My name Karina, I'll be your server today, can I start you girls off with some drinks?"

"I'll just get a virgin Margarita, Cherry please," Asami said.

"Yeah and I'll get one of those, with the alcohol in Lime," Korra added.

"I'll get a red wine, whatever's cheapest is fine," Kya grinned.

"I'll go for a soft drink, anything's fine," Lin said.

"Alright I'll be back soon enough" Karina smiled before taking off for the kitchen.

"Virgin Margarita, ill never understand, Asami," Korra joked.

"Well someone's gotta take you home."

"I know, I appreciate it. Even though I tease you." Asami blushed, and tried to hide her face from Kya who watched them with a sloppy grin.

Lin observed her surroundings, she tried to do the small talk like Kya had asked, but it was hard, and awkward. Instead she avoided eye contact, happy watching the workers move about.

"Well anyway, I show up at the precinct, and Mako is standing outside, this look on his face and I knew things were bad. I ran inside and I kid you not I busted down the doors to her office, Lin had a knife wound up her side, it was bleeding all over. And you know what she says to me? 'Kya it's not a big deal'" The younger girls laugh and Lin looked over to them.

"Okay honey, you're exaggerating just a bit. It wasn't a "knife wound" it was a scratch that just so happened to be caused by a knife shaped piece of metal." Lin added. Korra and Asami laughed, and Lin smiled, just a bit. She fiddled with the straw of her drink, halfhearted you listening to Asami tell then about one of their adventures on their vacation.

"Hey Lin, you okay?" Kya asked.

"Hmm? Yeah fine. I'm just going to the bathroom, excuse me." She replied, ignoring the worried glances from the rest of the group. She made her way to the bathroom, her brow sweating as more and more people set their eyes on her. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier today. She was out, and an aggressive older man had targeted her, because of her relationship with Kya. And now the four of them, being out together, it didn't feel safe..She hadn't told Kya, she knew how the water bender would worry, but she couldn't help but keep her eyes peeled on their surroundings, just in case another jackass tried to approach her with bad intentions.  The bathroom was empty, thankfully, and she let herself relax by the sink for a moment. Taking in the silence and solitude of the room. It wasn't long before the door swung open, and the Avatar stepped in, desperate not to disturb the peace.

"Lin. You uh... good in here?"

"I'm fine Korra, go back to the table."

"See you say that, but something tells me I should stay."

"You're confused."

"Hmmm, try I'm confused. Well not me. You. You say: I'm confused."  Lin sighed and faced away from the younger girl, putting a hand to her forehead on a crossed elbow. "Did someone say something? Was it Asami she can get pretty talkative sometimes. I don't get it you know? She says I have a habit of unnecessary rambling but I rarely speak-"

"-Korra. Oh my god."

"Something is wrong." Lin sighed again, this time Korra can you to her, stepping into her eye sight. "Lin you can tell me anything. I'll even keep it a secret if you want." Korra grinned, not a happy grin, but one that instilled confidence in Lin.

"I was attacked today."

"Ok not where I thought this was going, but continue."

"Some old bigot, guess he caught wind of my current relationship status, and that was too much for him."

"Wait, he attacked you because of..."

"Yeah."

"Does Kya know?"

"No! She'd get all angry, wouldn't let it down."

"Oh. Well honestly Lin, I have to hand it to you, you have the tolerance of Avatar Aang. If it were me... I would've been really destructive."

"Well its not like I didn't do nothing, I just didn't do enough."

"Ever since people found out about me and Asami, it hasn't been as happy go lucky as it used to be. So many people are happy for us, but there's still a lot of people who make enemies of themselves. I'm the Avatar and usually that's enough to send them running but you, you're a person."

"I'm the chief of Police,"

"That makes it worse. Some people have a problem with woman in power, a gay woman in power is just unheard of." Lin felt the corners of her mouth curve into a smile.

"Thanks Korra."

"Are you ready to go back to the table?"

"Yes, I am."

"Thank the Lion Turtles, I'm starving."

"Here they come, it looks like Korra got through to her," Asami whispered.

"Well I'll be darned," Kya replied as Lin and Korra sat at the table. "You good babe?" Kya asked.

"Great," Lin replied with a smile, kissing Kya in the cheek. Kya felt herself blush, and she spun the noodles on her fork in hopes of it fading. She caught Korra winking at her from the other side of the table and she smiled, releasing a discreet laugh.

"Where's the waitress?" She asked after a moment, "I'm ready for another glass of wine."

"Hell yeah!" Korra cheered, beckoning the waitress and getting herself a beer and Kya another glass of wine.

"Just bring the bottle," Kya told the waitress before she could leave. "So," Kya started, "What are we drinking to tonight Korra?"

"We, are drinking to Lin Beifong. For being the best bad ass in the city!"

"I can get behind that!" Kya smiled.

"Same here. To Lin Beifong then!" Asami added, raising her glass to theirs. Lin smiled, and with the motivation from her peers she raised her glass too, getting much more enthusiasm then she deserved. They took a sip at the same time, Korra and Kya's lasted significantly longer, nearly downing their newly refilled drinks in one go.

"Lin," Kya attempted at a whisper, "I love you," Lin smiled, and not without a small shake of her head she looked at her girlfriend.

"I love you too."

"Okay Korra, you and Kya can hang out tomorrow. Sure, Lin can drink with you next time. No we aren't stopping at Mako's stop teasing him it's not nice." Lin laughed as Asami put a four drink Korra into the car.

"Come on," she offered her own arm to Kya who stumbled a bit out of the restaurant, catching herself on Lin's arm.

"Lin I have been meaning to tell you all night, that dress really works for you."

"Tell me at home."

"Oh I will," Kya replied, rubbing her hand down Lin's cheek.

"You got that handled?" Lin shouted to Asami, who nodded, putting both thumbs up.

"Do you?" Asami asked.

"It's my job," Lin replied, boding farewell to the inventor and her girlfriend. Lin got in her own Sato Mobile, Kya leaned against the window, gazing out at the city lazily. They drove insolence for a few blocks, before Kya sat up, looking at Lin with a surprisingly straight face.

"Lin I know you pretty well," she said, "I know you well enough to know something bothered you today. You don't have to tell me, I'm just glad you're okay." Lin smiled, and let Kya rest her head on Lin's lap while she drove, using one hand to stroke her hair. The rest of the drive was silent, except the sound of their breathing, at one point Kya's became so steady Lin thought she had dozed off, but then she felt the waterbender adjust her head so she was looking straight up at Lin. From the look on her eyes Lin felt as though she was reading Kya's mind, your so beautiful. Kya had never let her forget it, and although the words made Lin feel awkward, she couldn't deny the small spark of joy each time it was said.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Sole loves Halloween and super looked forward to taking Shaun trick or treating when he was older, and they still want to take him even though it's post war. How would the companions (romanced) support Sole and Shaun?

(I had so much fun writing this! Thank you!! 🎃)

Cait:

“Alright little fella..uh, let’s do this.”

Cait had never gotten the chance to experience the quintessential Halloween as a child. Her parents certainly never dressed her up or brought her out for trick r’ treating..you know. So hearing you want to take Shaun out made her fall impossibly more in love with you, you were everything she ever wanted and then some. That being said, she still is pretty clueless- just going with the flow.

Curie:

“Awww, you look absolutely adorab- I mean, you look so spooky my little darling!”

If she could, she’d be the kind to take a million completely unnecessary pictures of Shaun and his costume- she was practically floating on air with happiness. She knew that “normalcy” was hard to come by for you, so she’d do everything she can to make celebrating perfect for you and your little one. Well, come to think of it, he was her little one as well. But that won’t stop her from making sure he doesn’t eat too much candy; she can’t have her little Shaunie getting a stomach ache.

Danse:

“Promise you won’t overdo it on the candy? Good, then by all means let’s get some candy, son.”

He’s a little rusty with this whole celebrating thing, the only memories he had being when he was very small in Rivet City and some kind soul taking pity and throwing some sweets his way. With that being said, he’s determined to make this the best damn Halloween he can for his child- seriously discussing with you just what was expected out of him. Also..you can count on him being #1 candy inspector.

Deacon:

“Ha, you’re in luck. I just so happen to be a master of disguise, come see and I’ll have you fixed up.”

As one could assume, Deacon was able to fabricate one of the best costumes you could ever dream of. Both him and Shaun were so excited, it made your heart melt. After the three of you went trick r’ treating, Deacon would suggest taking Shaun back to HQ so he could parade his little “mini me” around for everyone to fawn over.

Gage:

“Taking it would probably just be easier kid..but alright, but ya better split the spoils with me.”

He didn’t really get why Shaun wouldn’t just go and steal the candy when people weren’t looking. He even decided a plan for Shaun to steal from the other children while he stole from the adults..but, alas, his plans were foiled by you. Either way, he’d still go with Shaun to each and every door- shooting a glare to whomsoever didn’t give his boy an extra handful of candy. Afterwards, he’d take Shaun back out when you weren’t paying attention and throw eggs at the houses that didn’t give good candy.

Hancock:

“Dontcha fret bud, I can personally guarantee you that you’ll get all the candy your heart desires.”

Look, Goodneighbor wasn’t exactly a child friendly area but Hancock sure as hell would make sure that everyone got their shit together for this night. He’d even supply all the candy to each house, paying off any of his lovely citizens that might’ve not been willing at first...and then outright threading to shoot them if they still think it’s too “immature” or that he’s “getting soft.” Regardless, Shaun and you will be none the wiser and you’ll enjoy the festivities like a normal family.

Macready:

“Okay..uh, that one is Duncan...wait no, that’s definitely Shaun. Darn, maybe matching masks wasn’t a good idea.”

Luckily he wasn’t a stranger to dressing up an overly enthusiastic child for the night of Halloween. However..he was completely clueless when it came to doing it with two of them. For some reason you both thought it would be cute to dress the boys up in matching costumes..but the illusion of “cuteness” quickly ended when they both started to pull pranks on you and Mac, claiming to be the other one.

It was an eventful night to say the least.

Maxson:

“Are you sure he’s going to be safe? Oh, hey Shaun, you uh..that costume is superb. Have fun but please, stay close to me and mama/dad.”

He was so very anxious about letting Shaun leave the protection of the Prydwen. So much so that he deemed it necessary to have himself, you and a well trusted knight to follow Shaun around as he went door to door for treats. On one hand Maxson still remembered how much it sucked not being able to celebrate as a child, but on the other..he would die if something happened to his son. With that being said, as soon as Shaun is satisfied with his haul and is ready to go back home to the airship, Maxson will pull out a copy of an “ancient” book with all sorts of Halloween themed ghouls and creatures described within. Probably wasn’t the best idea, but Shaun seemed to like it.

Nick:

“Don’t you just look spiffy? Okay, as soon as we get back we can carve the melon.”

Having pre-war memories was a blessing in this case. Thanks to his knowledge, he was able to provide Shaun, his adoptive son, with the closest thing to a traditional Halloween that the wasteland would allow. He’d even decorate your little home in handmade paper bats and all that kind of stuff. When it comes down to trick r’ treating, Nick makes the perfect chaperone.

Old Longfellow:

“Don’t know how willing these folks will be giving out candy but..I’m sure I can find a way to inspire some generosity.”

True to his word, he used some..eh..”unique” methods to persuade the rugged islanders to play along. After all, there were some other children who desperately needed to focus on something aside from the impending danger of the fog. So, next thing you know your little plan to trick r’ treat ends up inspiring the whole town to delve into the festivities.

Piper:

“Aww, you two look so cute! Alright, remember only stay with us or the group!”

Perks of basically already being a mom to her little sister. She had Nat’s and Shaun’s costumes ready weeks in advance and already planned out a proper trick r’ treat with the other kids of Diamond City to participate. No worries, she’d be the cool kind of parents that lets their kids go with their buddies for Halloween....but she’ll also follow nearby. Just for reassurance.

Preston:

“Wow kiddo, that costume is terrifying! Hehe, come on, get your mom/dad..”

Like always, Preston is an absolute sweetheart. As soon as you made it clear how much this Halloween stuff meant to you, he made it his personal mission to make it special for you and his new adoptive son. After the trick r’ treating was done, he’d even build a little campfire and tell scary stories for shaun’s entertainment.

Sturges:

“Alrighty sport, I think you’re ready. Let’s go get your mama/dada and we’ll be on our way to getting us some candy!”

He hadn’t ever had a kid of his own to celebrate but back in Quincy..he had seen a couple carry on the tradition so he wasn’t completely clueless. He was actually just as excited as you were, even helping with making the costume and everything. You betcha your ass he dressed up as well, after all..his overalls closely resemble the outfit a bunch of the old pre-war horror movie characters you described.

X6-88:

“Shaun remember, the more we frighten them, the more candy they’ll give.”

He has a very loose understanding on what halloween is supposed to be. However he will never disappoint when it comes to making you and Shaun happy..so he’ll brush up on what makes sense...resulting in him dressing himself and Shaun in macabre costumes. A couple innocent candy givers may have passed out at the grotesque sight.

[hotsayce]

The Lake

NCT fanfic - 3.4k - Gender Neutral- A group of friends go to their nearby lake to hang out:)

Warnings: Drowning is mentioned but don't worry! No one actually drowns, the narrator just can't swim and is scared. Sex is also mentioned. Alcohol.

Author's Note: This is written in first person but the narrator is referred to as Y/N. Johnny and Ten aren't THAT important in the story, it's mostly the narrator and Mark.

~~~

It was almost time.

My friends and I were getting ready to go to the lake for a celebration.

Though the only thing worth celebrating was that Mark was finally graduating high school. He was the baby of our group. Ten and I were both 20, Johnny was 22 and Mark was just 18. We all started being friends in high school, I met Ten in dance class and Johnny in chorus my freshman year. We adopted Mark during my junior year though. We noticed some random kid sitting alone at lunch most every day. Nothing wrong with that, I myself sat alone sometimes during my freshman year. But this was different. Another group of kids began to sit with him, we thought he finally found his crowd. Until one week, Mark's little table was empty. We just assumed he was sick or something, until it lasted the whole week. We didn't have any classes with him and we had never spoken to him so there was no way to know what happened. The next Monday, Johnny just so happened to stop by the bathroom during lunch and saw poor Mark sitting on the (disgusting) bathroom floor, crying and eating alone. Then he brought him to sit with us. The rest is history.

Not really, I've never had a history class with any of them.

But that brings us to tonight, I am just about to open the door to leave my dorm room when my roommate asks, "Where are you going?"

Dangn't. I had been trying my best not to wake them up but I failed. Like always.

"Just out with some friends." I answer in the most calm way possible.

Adrian isn’t a snitch or anything, I just don’t want them knowing my business. We were never really that close.

"Okay," They roll back over in their bunkbed, facing the wall.

I almost slip out of the door when they ask, "What time will you be back?"

"Before 5."

They roll over again. "Okay, just be more quiet when you sneak back in please."

They must be referring to the time I came in at 6 A.M. and my morning alarm started blaring. I kept trying to push the off button but my screen was too cracked for me to press it. They'll never let me live that down.

I slip out of the door and am on my way to the bathroom. I don’t need to think of a plan to get out or anything, my Resident Advisor doesn’t care if we leave during the night. Ten wouldn't have such an easy time though, I hear the advisor at his dorm is more strict.

I finally step outside of my building only to notice that Ten beat me here.

"How'd you get past your RA?"

He laughs. "It's easy to reason with someone you've slept with."

"Gross." I shove him to the side. Not gross, quite cool actually. I was very jealous. Ten's RA was drop dead gorgeous and the amount of times I asked him if I could sleep over to see if they'd stop by his room is far too many to count.

We were on our way to Johnny's place to go chill at the lake behind his house. He went to the same college as Ten and I but he lived at home with his parents. I would too if they were as loaded as his family, not to mention they live pretty close to school. A walk was only 35 minutes away which never seemed like much if you walked with other people.

Walking to Johnny's was normally silent when I went by myself but that was never the case with Ten. He always had some cool college story to tell, we were both juniors but his experience seemed much more interesting that mine. Whether he was spilling gossip about the dance team or who he'd been flirting with during his most recent seminar, it was always something eventful.

"What college do you think Mark will choose?" Ten asks.

Woah. That's a much different direction from where he normally goes.

"Why such a somber question to start the night? (morning actually) I wanna know if anything new has happened between Veronica and Tamika?" I try changing the subject. Veronica and Tamika were two girls in his dance class who had supposedly been best friends since their freshman year. Everyone knew they liked each other but neither of them had ever asked the other out.

"Seriously Y/N. What if he doesn't come to our school?"

"Well," I normally try not to think about what would happen if Mark left the country for college. "Then we'll video chat with him every week and text him all the time and he'll come home each summer."

Ten doesn’t look at me but I know that this is eating him up.

It'd been eating all of us up. Johnny, Ten, and I had all gone to GC State for our own separate reasons and we were hoping Mark would too but he had his eyes set on an arts school in Vancouver. He was born in Canada so it would mean so much to him to move back there for college but he didn't want to leave his friends (us).

"I just don't want us to split up. We were gonna be his older college buddies." It was dark out but I could still see the frown on Ten's face.

I put my arm around his shoulder. "He still has about a month left, we don't know what he's going to pick. And whichever school he does choose, we'll support him."

Ten sighs. "I guess your right. We don't where he'll go yet but we have to be happy for him."

I nod my head and continue walking beside him.

"Oh and Ica-Ika is never gonna work out." 'Ica-Ika' was a cute ship name Ten and I made for Veronica and Tamika. "Imagine being a senior in college and still being too nervous to confess to your crush."

I raise my eyebrow at him. "You're one to talk."

"Look. I've got one more year. Quit rushing me."

I laugh at Ten. He's had a crush on Johnny since high school but has never told him. At this rate he never will.

~~~

We finally arrive at Johnny's house. He has that type of house that you have to drive down to since it's off by itself. The three story ones with the huge yards. The house where everybody wants to be and where all the parties were. Not to mention the lake in the back. I was surprised when I found out that Johnny was an only child. Why would their family need such a big house if there were just 3 of them? But it's not my place to judge what other people do with their hard earned money.

Johnny's car is the only one in the driveway so his parents aren't home. Ten and I don't bother walking through the front door, we walk straight to the back and find Mark sitting in a lawn chair and Johnny standing right beside him.

Johnny had always taken a liking to Mark ever since he found him in the bathroom. Not in the cliché high school relationship type of way though, Johnny was not a creepy senior guy on the varsity football team and Mark was not an innocent freshman girl who had 'developed' over the summer. They were 4 years apart but the way they act, you'd think they were the exact same age. Except they don't look the same age. Johnny was tall (a giant really) with long brown hair. Between his extroverted personality and his beefy arms, he had all the girls, guys, and honestly anyone with eyes after him. Mark was... not like Johnny. He was much smaller with short black hair and I'm sure people would be after him if he wasn't so darn oblivious to everyone who wants him. It's like he was waiting for someone special to come along and ask him out but who knows when that will happen?

"You're finally here!" Johnny turned at the sound of our footsteps and came up to hug us. He always gave great hugs.

"Now the party can start!" I say while Ten and Johnny hug for a second too long.

Mark gets up to hug us as well and we make our way to the lake, although he lingers to walk beside me instead of with Johnny and Ten.

~~~

"Have you decided which college you're going to yet?" I glare at Ten from my chair and Johnny does the same.

"You haven't even gotten him to drink yet and you're already asking him important questions? What am I teaching you Ten?" Johnny takes another swig of his own glass of wine. He's the only person who would bring fancy glasses and expensive wine to hang out at the lake with his friends at 3 A.M.

"I can't drink yet Johnny." Mark says.

Johnny winks at him. "Riiight."

I laugh as I drink from my own glass. "There's no rush in your decision Mark. We'll be happy with whatever you choose."

Everyone was silent as we all thought about what Mark's decision would be. Our guess was as good as his.

"C'mon guys no being sad at our celebration." Johnny jumps up from his seat. "To the lake!"

He begins walking to the lake, Ten close on his heels cheering. I get up from my seat to follow them but notice Mark still sulking in his chair. He must still be thinking about college. No doubt he has exams soon, he has this big decision to add on top of it all.

I walk over to Mark and grab his hand, motioning for him to walk with us.

When we get to the lake, the rest of the guys rid themselves of their shirts while Mark keeps his on. I opt to keep my shirt on as well, I don't plan on swimming today.

"You're not gonna swim?" Mark takes his shoes off, preparing to get in the water.

"No, not today." I sit down on the dock and stick my feet in the cool water.

Instead of getting in the water like Ten and Johnny, Mark sits down beside me. "I won't swim either then."

There's no use in telling him to go ahead and swim. He hates for any one of us to be left out so he'll stay with me no matter how much I protest.

The sadness in Mark's eyes from earlier disappears once he looks at the lake. His expression when he looks at the water makes it seem like he's never seen a lake like this before. He's always loved coming here. Johnny would sometimes pick him up after school when he had the time so they could just sit here at the lake and talk about anything. It was like his safe place. He wouldn't have the lake in Vancouver.

"Were you being serious earlier?" The reflection of the moon is still in his eyes but the sadness is back.

"Serious about what?" I say as I flick my feet in the water.

"When you guys said you'd support me. No matter what college I go to. You won't leave like-"

"No Mark," I stop him before he can even finish. "We won't leave you. It doesn't matter how far we are, we'll always be friends okay?"

He doesn't say anything but I know he understands. Ever since those kids ditched him in high school, he's had trust issues about people leaving him. There were so many people that tried to be friends with him but he always pushed them away because he thought they'd do the same. Sure he talks to some people at school, but his only real friends are all in college. I can't imagine how lonely that must feel.

I try to lighten the mood. "Hey Buddy," I say jokingly.

"Oh no, not buddy."

I place my arms around Mark's shoulders. "You know you're getting older and your life is changing..."

He then rips my arm from his shoulder laughing, "What is this?"

I grab his arm once again. "I'm just trying to tell you about college because you're a growing boy."

"Are you trying to give me the talk? Because I've had it before."

I turn and face him. "You've had sex before?!"

"What no! I meant the talk!"

I sigh out of relief. "Phew. Good. I couldn't believe you had never told me."

We both laugh until it gets quiet.

"You never told me whether you've had sex before."

He was not wrong. Johnny and Ten talked about their 'partners' all the time but I've never mentioned it because I've never been with anyone like that. I've always been waiting for the right time but it was really just me being cautious and refusing to have my first time in a cramped college dorm. No one (near my age) had caught my interest and, unfortunately, Johnny never volunteered so I've just been saving myself up I guess.

"That is correct." I don't know what Mark is getting at but I just keep letting him talk.

"Well do you thin-"

Before he can finish his sentence, I feel a splash of water hit me. Ten and Johnny float in the water in front of us with two big grins on their faces.

"Hey spoilsports, come swim with us." Johnny hits us with another splash and Mark jumps in to go play with them. Thank God. I was not about to let Mark down and tell him that I won't have sex with him during his last year of high school. There is nothing wrong with Mark except for how he is basically still a child and as (or even more) inexperienced as I am.

The guys stay near my area so I can still splash them from sitting down. Except it's mostly them cheating because whenever I throw water at them, they just duck under the surface whereas I have to stay up here and get wet.

By the time we're done, I'm soaking wet and Ten and Johnny have swam out again. Mark almost joins them but swims back to me.

"How come you aren't swimming with us?"

The word 'swim' is incorrect in this situation. He knows I can't swim. Normally, when we go to the lake, I lazy around in a floatie but I just don't feel like it right now.

"Mark, you know I can't swim."

"Well yeah," He flips his hair back and unintentionally sprays me with more water. "But we all can."

I'm sorry. I think he's failed to understand the concept of 'me not being able to swim = me drowning.'

Before I can inform him of that, Johnny and Ten come swimming towards us with a weird look in their eyes. When they get up on the dock, they shake their hair out as well, getting me wet again and then Johnny grabs Ten's hand and begins leading him back to the house.

"Where are you two going?" I question and they just giggle.

"Johnny wants to show me his room." Ten smiles up at the older and they're still walking away from us.

Mark calls out after them, "But we've all already seen his room!" They keep laughing, hand in hand, walking back to the house to do who knows what except we all know exactly what they're doing and I curse them in my head for setting up such a venereal tone in the air.

"What are they doing?" Mark looks up at me with the most oblivious look in his eyes.

"Sex."

"Gross."

Again, not gross. Very jealous.

I wish the moonlight and calm lake were not making the environment so romantic right now. Not to mention the text from Ten that says, 'Don't bother us. Go bang Mark :)'

Although that sounds very tempting, I will not be a senior in high school's, first time. Or let him be my first time.

"I can hold you if you're still afraid of swimming." Mark's quiet voice interrupts my thoughts.

"What?"

"We were talking about swimming earlier. If you're okay with it, I can just hold you in the water. I won't let go."

I get another text from Ten. 'Don't see any banging yet :(' I look up to the window of Johnny's bedroom and see a silhouette of them standing there. Mark waves at them and I can't see that far but I can tell that they're smiling before they close the curtain.

I put my phone away and respond to Mark. "It's really okay. You don't have to do that."

He moves from leaning on the dock beside me to being right in front of me, laying his hands on my knees.

"I pinky promise you'll be safe. Please swim with me."

Once again, the reflection of the moon does me dirty, illuminating the sincerity in Mark's eyes. I can't say no. (I absolutely could but I won't)

I take a deep breath. "Okay." I don't bother removing my shirt since he didn't either. Mark places his hands lightly around my waist and begins pulling me down into the water.

"Don't drop me." I say. I've done this before but with Johnny and he's much bigger and stronger than Mark so I can't say that I'm not a little worried he won't be able to carry me.

Mark just smiles and pulls me down until I'm no longer on the dock.

My first instinct is to immediately flail because I believe I will sink all the way to the bottom of the lake but Mark's grip on me tightens, obviously noticing how my body tensed up when I got into the water.

"I got you." He doesn't let me go as promised and we stay close to the dock, my back against the wood.

"See. All safe."

Being in the water isn't as scary as I thought it would be. I'm glad Mark is here with me. And I'm glad that we didn't leave the dock, giving me the option to change my mind and climb back up if I want to.

"What are you thinking?" He asks.

I haven't spoken since I got in the water. Maybe it's the calmness of the lake itself or the fact that Mark is holding me, but I can't think of anything to say.

"Nothing really." I feel the urge to wrap my legs around Mark's waist but I fight against it.

"Well I'm thinking of us."

I smile, staring at the moon. "Yeah. I really enjoy hanging out at the lake with you guys every once in a while.

"No Y/N." I look over at him. "I mean us. This."

I shake my head. There's always been something between us but it was so minute that we never spoke of it. "There is no this Mark. You know that. We both know that."

"Do we really?"

The water around us seems so still. The only movement is from our too close together chests, rising and falling at the same time. My eyes drift to his lips and I can't help but wonder how they would feel against my own.

Mark notices me staring, closes his eyes, and leans in but right when our lips almost touch, I turn my head to the side. His lips graze my cheek which is better than nothing I suppose. As much as my heart wants to, I cannot kiss him and add on to the already long list of reasons he would rather stay here than go to Vancouver. A kiss would only hold him back even more and I know how much he wants to leave.

"I'm sorry Mark." I lean my head into the nook of his neck hoping he won't push me away after what I just did. I don't want this to be awkward but I tighten my grip on his shoulders, not wanting to rid myself of his touch just yet.

"I understand." I want him to pull my face back up and tell me all the thoughts he's had about us. I want him to try to kiss me again, and this time I may kiss him right back. But he doesn't. Instead, his hold on my waist never loosens or falters even though I know his arms and whole body must be tired from swimming for so long.

I hope what we have won't falter either.

~~~

Sometimes when Mark calls me and I hear everything he's been doing and everyone he's been talking to, I wish I would've kissed him back at the lake. The people in Vancouver sound really pretty. And he always sounds really happy. What would've changed if I did kiss him? Maybe he would have went to college here and then we could be a cute couple like Ten and Johnny. But there's no telling what would happen. I just know that I'll always have a best friend halfway across the world.

But hey, there's always summer break.

[potterlovemail]

Math Tutor - Drarry Headcanon

(modern au)

Harry Potter wasn’t the brightest student in his classes. Throughout highschool, he managed to be pretty decent in his studies; he had B’s, and rarely any D’s. This pleased his parents greatly— though, they never really were strict on grades, they simply wanted Harry to live on happily and become whatever he wanted to in the future.

James is a professor at Hogwarts University. Basically Duke, but aim just a tad bit lower. Hogwarts was known for having many gifted students attend; no person was the same as the last. It seemed everyone had their own interests.

Though, Harry had no idea what he was going to do. He thought about teaching like his father, but it seemed far fetched. He could hold his own in class, teaching on the other hand— no. Harry hated teaching. Those times teachers would ask him to explain his answer, his mind almost always went blank. Maybe he was nervous, or perhaps he just disliked explaining himself. He’d put the future aside for now. There are more important things to be worrying about.

First day on campus, and they’ve been given their roommate’s name. Harry didn’t really mind having a roommate; just as long as they weren’t horribly annoying. He’d have to share a room with someone named Draco Malfoy. He had no idea who the hell that was. Harry had heard of the Malfoy name— apparently, they funded Hogwarts for a little bit. They were wealthy, Harry knew that much.

On the first knock, who supposedly is Malfoy answers the door. Harry didn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Malfoy was darn gorgeous. That’s right, Harry was into blokes, and what are the odds that he landed a room with someone as attractive as that.

“Holy shit,” Were the first and only words to leave the stunned male’s mouth. “Nice to meet you too,” Malfoy stepped out of the way so Harry could walk in and drag his luggage along. He does so reluctantly, eyes trailing Malfoy. Malfoy’s eyes were grey, and it was pretty much the most beautiful shade of grey Harry had ever seen. Oh, boy, he was crushing big time.

“You’re staring. Is there something on my face or are you just surprised that I’m your roommate?” Malfoy’s voice cuts through his thoughts. The blond knew where he was at the Popularity charts. “Well- I.. actually didn’t even know who you were till now,” Harry tries his best to stand his ground and not stammer. “I mean i’ve heard of the Malfoy name, of course,” His heavy feet crossed the room, heading to the empty bed which Harry assumed was his. Malfoy had pretty much unpacked everything. His bed looked expensive compared to Harry’s; the mattress looked fluffier, and just comfortable while Harry’s looked flat, and plain. Maybe Malfoy had paid them.

“Alright then. You stay on your side and mind your business, and we’ll be fine,” Malfoy states calmly, sitting down on his bed with a proper posture. Harry couldn’t stop himself from looking just a little bit longer. This seemed promising.

A week of sharing a room, and the two males realized that they literally were opposites. Harry’s closet looked like a jungle compared to Malfoy’s. Even the dark haired male’s hand writing was put to shame with Malfoy’s bloody cursive writing. Damn rich people.

Harry wasn’t proud of it, but they’d argued sometimes. Mainly it was Malfoy complaining about how Harry took too long in the bathroom, and how Harry had used up all of the shampoo. Their mornings usually went like this, and they parted ways for their classes sharing insults.

“Git.” Harry walked out the door first, trotting down the hall to get to his class, bag clutched tightly in one arm. “Prat!” Malfoy bellowed, just enough for Harry to hear as he speed walked. It was hilarious to the blond. Despite this, Harry was still crushing. How could he not? Malfoy just seemed so.. perfect. Gosh, it was still a shock how he had managed one week without throwing himself on the male. If he did that he’d probably be sent to the nurses with a broken nose, or maybe a concussion. He didn’t even know if Draco liked guys.

Second semester, and Harry was having serious problems with Math. Math wasn’t his best subject— it was definitely his worst. One particular evening, Harry’s jotting down notes messily and trying badly to recall everything. He has an exam in about 4 days. He’s so focused, he doesn’t even realize that Malfoy was watching him.

“You seem like you’re actually thinking. It’s hurting to watch,” Malfoy snorts, and Harry’s head snaps up to glare at him. “I’m doing my best to study. I’m not stupid, alright?” He rolls his eyes, averting his gaze back to his near crumpled folder paper. “I didn’t call you stupid. Not really. But, I could help you with that,” The blond offers. “And why would you want to do that?” Harry’s interested, definitely. He would never pass up on that, he really needed the help, but he also wanted to know what Malfoy was up to.

“Just cause. And i’m bored, the poor need my help.” Only Malfoy could make Harry as irritated as this— yet the dark haired male wouldn’t act on his annoyance. He didn’t want to make their ‘friendship’ worse than it was, and besides, he wants to be more than just silly roommates and friends. “Fine. Help me,” Harry groaned, crossing his legs as Malfoy made his way over to him. “Great. Now scoot.”

Malfoy wasn’t a bad teacher, or rather, tutor, at all. He helped Harry with things he couldn’t wrap his head around, and even took the time to explain it thoroughly. Harry couldn’t tell if Malfoy was just showing off, or trying to help.

Harry’s heart felt as if it’d leap up his throat any moment; they’d never been this close to each other. Knees made contact, shoulders touching briefly as Malfoy pointed to certain equations. Malfoy’s hand brushing against his as he stole away Harry’s pencil to demonstrate. All of this made Harry slowly insane.

“You look a little pink. Don’t tell me you’ve got a fever of some sort,” Malfoy comments, pausing his very useful tutoring. “I’m fine, peachy,” Harry shrugged, knowing damn well the blush on his face only deepened.

He was going to die if he didn’t make a move soon.

Harry decides that a week later is when he’ll make the first move. Was it probably the scariest thing he’d ever done? Yes. Merlin, yes. Harry was never an open romantic, he didn’t give out much hints. It was because he just didn’t want to be rejected, but he strongly felt he had a chance with Malfoy. For whatever reason.

So, this is how he did it. “Hey, I need you to errr.. explain this one again to me.” Harry asked, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand. “Sure.” Malfoy peered at the paper, expecting a complex equation ready to be explained, but he was met with something different. Harry had written, ‘You’re cute’ just underneath his notes. Malfoy fought back a smile, looking back up at Harry. “Everyone tells me,” He cooed, and Harry nearly groaned out in frustration.

That’s right, how was he supposed to flirt with the gracious Malfoy; who’s expectations were as high as skyscrapers and the Eifell Tower.

“Thanks.” Draco muttered, breaking eye contact. Harry blinked; it hadn’t gone so badly.

He keeps it up, writing down small compliments where Draco could easily spot them. Each time he did, he knew he was getting somewhere— because Draco had become different. He wasn’t purposely insulting the dark haired male, and if he did, it was jokingly. Harry felt like he was floating. This was all he’d ever wanted since the first day he’d walked in and blurted out, ‘holy shit.’

He hadn’t even realized how fucking amazing Draco’s laugh was till he was the one who had made him laugh. At the end of the day, Harry had finally asked him out. ‘I really think we could make this work. Not the math— but, you and me. What do you say?’ Harry had tried his best to make his handwriting neat and decipherable.

“Hmm.. well, I’m not sure. If I dated Potter would that ruin my reputation? Most likely, yes.. “ Draco looked up at the ceiling as he talked to himself, and Harry gulped. “But, I don’t give a fuck,” The blond adds, and Harry lips curve upwards, later breaking into a wide grin. “So then..?”

“Yes. Prat, I’ll go out with you,” Draco’s rather angelic laugh comes out again, and suddenly, Harry’s kissing him. Draco kisses back quickly, and it’s like a fire lit in both of their stomachs. It was the spark that Harry had been longing for.

Sadly, even after all of that studying, Harry managed to get a 73/100 on the semester finals. Not too shabby, but Draco would definitely have him redo his notes.