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1kook · 3 years

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commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly.

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking.

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot.

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment.

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon.

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now.

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway.

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.”

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds.

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims.

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay?

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.”

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks.

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off.

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.”

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line.

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.”

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain.

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him.

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.)

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.”

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you.

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you.

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #mine

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goldengoddess · 3 years

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hi! i was wondering if i could request a matthias x reader where jesper knows that the reader likes matthias and then one day matthias asks the reader what tumble means and when they ask why he wants to know he says that jesper told him that the reader wants to tumble him (i hope that wasn't too specific haha)

pairing: matthias helvar x reader

a/n: okay so i think this will be my first time writing one of these not in bullet point form so bare with me <3 this is very cute and very matthias (since i don't explicitly say it in here, tumble basically means to have sex if you didn’t know!)

warnings: cursing, suggestive comments, betting and playing cards

you lean your head back, staring at the ceiling of the slat. an exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you close your eyes in frustration. jesper lets out a small laugh under his breath, sitting in the seat next to you. you straighten yourself and open your eyes, sending him a sharp glare.

“stop laughing jes! this is absolutely not funny.” you groan.

he only lets out another little laugh and shakes his head, “this is totally funny. this situation is the most fun i’ve had since i gave wylan a gun for the first time.”

you roll your eyes, if jesper was comparing your situation to the wylan gun fiasco, you really were in trouble.

“maybe it’s funny for you but im absolutely dying here. i don’t know how to act around him.” you let out an annoyed sound and drop your head into your hands.

“just tell him. matthias is like a giant really threatening teddy bear. even if he rejects you, he’d probably give you like a pat on the back or something” jesper shrugs.

you let out a small fake cry and look back up at jesper, “i can’t just tell him i want him. it would ruin everything. matthias is just starting to really trust me. he trusts me more than anyone else. i can’t mess that up for my own selfish lovesick reasons.”

jesper flicks your arm and you whine, rubbing the spot.

“saints, you’re overthinking this. first of all, matthias looks at you as if you’ve hung the fucking moon. second of all, you don’t have to get down on one knee and admit your undying love for him. you can just have a little fun.”

at his last comment, he makes a suggestive face your way, insinuating something you’ve tried not to let your mind linger on.

“he doesn’t look at me like anything,” you mumble out, a bit embarrassed.

he groans and stands up from his chair, “saints im really the only one in this group with a bit of common sense.”

you furrow your brows at the sharpshooter, “where are you going?”

“away” is all he says before he’s making his way up the stairs to the bedrooms.

you frown but turn your chair so you’re facing the table you previously had your back to.

whatever, you think to yourself, what does jesper even know? he has his stupid perfect love with wylan. he wouldn’t get it.

your play with the hem of your shirt sleeve for a couple of minutes, lost in thought, running over all of the things you would say to matthias if you could, if you had the courage that all the other dregs seemed to have.

a couple of minutes later you feel someone sit in the chair next to you. you’re so engrossed in your thoughts that you don’t even bother to look up.

until you feel a small tap of your shoulder and a soft, “y/n?”

you look up, meeting those ice-blue eyes that seem to totally hinder your ability to make normal conversation.

you smile at him anyway, “hey matthias.”

it might be your imagination but you feel him brighten at your smile.

“um, y/n, can i ask you a question?”

you nod your head, turning your attention back to the table. you were used to answering random questions from matthias. making the permanent move to ketterdamn had been difficult in a number of different ways but matthias had struggled a lot with the slang of the city. it was habit for you to whisper the meaning of phrases to him as all of your friends made conversations.

but you definitely weren’t expecting the words that came out of his mouth next.

“what does uh tumble mean?”

your head snapped up to look at him. you could practically feel the heat of your blush on your cheeks, but you try and keep a neutral face in front of this giant stupid beautiful boy. “oh! um, why do you want to know matthias?”

he scratches the back of his neck.

is he nervous, you ask yourself in total disbelief.

“jesper said that you want to tumble me” he struggles with the word tumble, the pronunciation so different from that of his native fjerdan.

any hope of keeping a neutral face evaporates at those words. your jaw drops slightly. you turn your head around, searching for that mischievous sharpshooter who seems to only be in your life to cause absolute chaos.

you spot him leaning on the bannister of the stairs, he gives you a knowing smirk and a condescending wave before bounding up the stairs.

you’re going to kill that little bastard.

you turn your attention back to matthias, who’s watching you expectantly.

“um well see. you can’t believe a word jesper says because you know jesper and his impulsive habits, he just loves to say absolute nonsense to cause trouble-”

matthias stops your ramble by placing his hand on yours, “what does it mean?”

you blush and take a deep breath, well here goes nothing.

you lean into the space that separates the two of you and whisper the meaning into his ear.

and saints, you had never seen matthias turn so red in your whole life.

the two of you sit in silence for what feels like hours, the tension building.

he’s the first to speak and you tense, preparing yourself for the rejection, for the anger, for anything and everything that could happen next.

“i um,” he pauses, “want to tumble you too?”

he mumbles the last part but your eyes widen, obviously hearing it.

you’re suddenly aware of matthias’ hand still ontop of yours. he laces your fingers together.

holy shit matthias helvar is holding my hand, you squeal in your mind.

you give him a small smile.

and he smiles back.

well fuck.

you were gonna have to thank jesper.

#matthias helvar #matthias helvar imagine #matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar headcanon #matthias helvar fanfic #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #Grishaverse #shadow and bone

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sei-hoe · 3 years

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manager pt. 5

hello all! as always thank you for your love on this story. i hope you like this new chapter! leave me a comment, i love reading your thirsty thoughts! also i recently remembered that shiratorizawa is a dorm school lol, so from now on i will write it as such oopsie. also!! i got all official and made a banner for this series, im so official!

Fem Reader X Tendou Satori & Fem Reader x Ushijima Wakatoshi

CW: blowjob, angst, jealous themes, manipulative reader, language, implied sex, spit kink

WC: 2.6k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Clingy. That was the word you would use to describe Tendou as of late. During school he was walking with you in the hallways, during practice he was standing next to you, after practice he was walking you to your room. It wasn’t necessarily annoying, just strange. His change in behavior was sudden and unprompted, at least in your mind.

You had been the Shiratorizawa volleyball club manager for about a month now and your outlook had changed drastically. What used to feel awkward was now second nature. You used to flinch at what now was commonplace. Being “used” wasn’t what it used to be. Now it was something you looked forward to at the end of practice and you had actually become...dare you say it...friends with these guys. Friends with extreme benefits that is.

But still, Tendou was different. You’d catch him staring at you in a way that was different from the other guys. You’d catch him staring as Ushijima would carry you out of the gym on his back and straight to the locker room. He’d have a look that you used to not be able to identify in his eyes, you knew now it was jealousy. It was the same look that you’d found on Ushijima’s face about a month ago.

From Tendou’s perspective, it seemed as though Ushijima was hogging you, whisking you away after practice day in and day out. You would always walk out of the locker room with wet hair and another one of Ushijima’s shirts on. It was infuriating and just wasn’t fair. Tendou had barely been able to talk to you recently, hence his rather clingy behavior. But you were in heaven. You were in Ushijima’s presence daily and were able to care for him how he deserved. However, he had made it very clear that you were not his girlfriend as he didn’t have the time for such a commitment. Another price you were willing to pay.

_____

Another grueling practice ended a little bit later than usual, you noted the dark sky through the windows towards the top of the gym walls. You were working on a bit of homework when the final whistle was blown signifying the official end of practice. You stood up and began packing up your bag as the team approached the bench for a meeting. Tendou was the first to arrive by the bench, coming up behind you for a hug, wrapping his arms around your upper stomach and resting his chin on your head. His chest felt hot and sweaty against your back, instantly raising your body temperature. You giggled, knowing exactly which sweaty athlete this was. You and Tendou had become quite close, despite spending less time with him sexually, at least, during the last month. It seemed as though you were never really alone anymore and Tendou was always around you. It was nice, he had become a great friend to you. The two of you were always flirting back and forth and unlike Ushijima, it seemed as though Tendou really cared about you, both emotionally and physically. He always made sure you came before him and that you were alright after one of your umm...managerial obligations, whereas Ushijima didn’t care if you came at all. Long story short, you always enjoyed the time you spent with Tendou.

A few words were said per the usual by the captain and practice was dismissed. Tendou, still holding onto you from behind, moved his hand further down to your lower stomach, began rubbing gently, and craned his neck down to whisper in your ear, “ya wanna get outta here?”. You could hear the smirk behind his words as his hot breath blew against your ear.

“Mhm”, you murmured eagerly, missing your time with Tendou.

“Good”, he hummed in response, “because there’s something I’d like to give ya,” He accentuated his dirty talk by moving his hand even lower, “right here.” To say you had butterflies was an understatement. It was crazy what a couple of words could reduce you to, but here you were.

You walked back over to the bench to pick up your bag, but was intercepted by Ushijima who had a proposition.

“Come back with me to my room”, he offered, stepping close enough to make you crane your neck up. You looked behind you at Tendou, he was laughing with Semi, unaware that you were about to ruin his night. It’s not that you didn’t want to fuck Tendou, you did, very much actually. That’s just how whipped you are for Ushijima.

“But I already told Tendou that I’d-”, you started.

“Go make up some excuse and then wait for me outside of the locker room.” he interrupted while he started for the gym doors. Ushijima was hardly in the mood to share you tonight, or ever really. You watched him leave while standing and staring, awkwardly contemplating what to say to Tendou. You mustered up the courage to walk over to him, smiling and saying goodnight to Semi as you passed him on his way out.

“Hey, umm, I just remembered that I’ve got a ton of homework that’s due tomorrow and I just think I should probably-”

“What did Ushijima just say to you?” he caught you off guard with his question, although you should have been expecting it.

“Nothing, I just have a lot of homework.” you quickly replied.

Tendou rolled his eyes, “Come on, we’re closer than that, you don’t have to lie to me.” His hands were placed on his hips in an annoyed fashion.

You remained silent, thinking of anything you could say to ease the tension.

“Ok, I’ll say something then. Are you dating Ushijima or something?”

You shook your head.

“Ok...so then last I checked you were still the team manager, would that be correct? Meaning you’re not just Ushijima’s to play with? Cuz there are other guys on the team that are stressed out too, if that’s what we’re even calling it anymore.”

You blushed at this choice of words. “You don’t understand, I-” you started again.

“I think I do understand actually. And just so you know, he’s never going to give you what you want. You think you’re the first girl to fall for him?” He scoffed. “I mean, fuck,” he ran his taped up fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “It just gets old, ya know?” Tendou looked so hurt and angry. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it promptly and turned on his heel to leave. You reached to grab his arm before he could slip out of your grasp.

“Wait, Tendou...please.” you whispered into his sleeve, despite being the only two left in the vast gymnasium. “I don’t want things to be like this either. You,” you paused to collect your thoughts. “You’re my friend and I love all the time that we get to spend together. I always have the best time with you. But I can’t help liking Ushijima. So please don’t be mad at me,” you prayed into his arm, still gripping at his sleeve.

He finally turned around to face you, taking a deep inhale, he looked down into your wide, pleading eyes while exhaling through his nose.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that.” he looked away from you.

“Look at you, how?” You prodded, widening your eyes and moving closer to him.

“You know exactly how.” he smirked, bringing his hands to rest at your sides, lightly rubbing his thumbs in soothing circular motions. Beginning at the bottom of his abdomen you begin running your hands up his stomach, to his chest, shoulders, and finally around his neck. Standing on your tippy toes you pull him down to your level.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you breathed in his ear.

“Please,” he replied, his hands making their way down to your ass.

“You’re the one that I think about. It’s your hands that I imagine are touching me when I’m touching myself. You always make me feel so good, Tendou.”

“Ughh why are you doing this to me?” He whined, tipping his head back. It was then that you noticed the prominent tent in his pants, poking you in the stomach.

You’d never seen Tendou so flustered in the short time that you’d known him. He was usually the one making you flustered, not the other way around. It was a nice change of pace. It was also refreshing to know you had a kind of power over him, the kind to make him lose his mind.

“You sure you can’t bail on him?” He asked, hope gleaming in his red eyes. It made you pause to think about your options, a wicked idea popped into your head.

“Come wait with me?” you began pulling his arm towards the gym doors. He looked confused, but followed you anyway. Maybe you needed to give Ushijima a little push, it’s only a bonus that you get to makeout with Tendou too.

_____

The concrete bricks felt cold against the backs of your legs as Tendou shoved you against the locker room corridor hallway, the entrance to the room just around the corner. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, protecting it from the hard brick while the other pressed bruises into your waist. His chapped lips scraped against yours in a heated kiss, tongues fighting for dominance, his eventually winning as you whined into his mouth. He broke the kiss to stroke his own ego, his hands trailing down your sides to play with the waistband of your shorts.

“So you really think about my hands touching you when you play with that cute little cunt?”

“Please Tendou”, you moaned in response.

“I think you’ve had enough attention for today, fucking teasing me for the last fifteen minutes. Hell, the last couple weeks actually. You fucking rile me up just to go fuck some other dude. You like being a little slut? Hmm?”

You were at a loss for words. As much as his words were turning you on, you knew there was some truth behind them. He was onto your antics and done with them.

“You think I don’t know why we’re making out right by the locker rooms? Are you trying to make Ushijima feel like he’s missing out or something? Being all cute with me to show him how good of a girlfriend you’d be? Well fuck that shit. Get on your knees slut.”

He removed his hand from your waistband and brought them to your shoulders guiding you down to your knees. You couldn’t even rest on your calves, you had to stand up as tall as you could on your knees to be eye level with the imprint in his shorts.

“Fuck, it doesn’t take much, does it?” He scoffed as he pulled his shorts down to reveal his hard, heavy cock.

“Aw you didn’t think we’d take it this far, didja? Better make this quick if you don’t want your boyfriend to catch us!” Tendou tilted his head to the side, a smirk plastered on his face while he caressed the top of your head.

You opened your mouth to lap up the precum on his tip, swirling your tongue along the soft skin on the head of his cock.

“Nah, I don’t feel like being teased anymore today.” Tendou spoke as he readjusted his grip on your head, scooting you back until you were trapped between the painted brick wall and his body. You didn’t have a moment to adjust before his cock was plugging up your throat, making you gag around him. The pace started brutally, shoving in and out of your mouth. It was all you could do to keep up, running your tongue against the engorged vein on the underside of his cock. He never eased up until you tapped his thigh signifying you had enough.

“Too much?” he condescended. You looked back up at him with watery eyes, swallowing as many breaths as you could before it all started over again.

“This would have been much nicer for both of us if you hadn’t ditched me, I would’ve made you feel so good, baby.” He paused to take in your appearance, you looked so pretty like this. Your hair was a mess, eyes watery, lips so fucking swollen, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth, your chest heaving, and he had a great view down your shirt. Is this what his captain got to see everyday? The thought filled him with rage. If he had known he’d come to feel this way about you, he would’ve just asked you out, not asked you to be the manager. Ushijima wouldn’t have ever noticed you had it not been for him! Fuck, that’s annoying.

“Ya ready for a little more?”

You smiled at him through bated breaths, nodding your head. Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, but you were still having a good time. You opened your mouth, closed your eyes, and stuck out your tongue, ready for whatever he had to give you. Tendou bent down into a squat until his mouth hovered just above yours. You felt something warm and sticky hit your tongue, you opened your eyes only to find a thin line of spit connecting Tendou’s lips with the liquid pooling in your mouth. Did he just spit in your mouth? Before you could say anything he was back on his feet, cock in his hand, rolling it in the spit laying on your tongue. He inched his way back into your throat, watching your eyes water with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck you’re gonnna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that.” He continued thrusting, your throat convulsing around his cock.

“You’re gonna leave here with a tummy full of cum, ok sweetie?” His breaths and thrusts were becoming stuttered, he was close.

“You’re gonna fuck Ushijima with my cum swirling around in your stomach.” He whimpered, talking himself into an orgasm. With his hips giving one final thrust, you felt the back of your throat flood with cum. Tendou held his hips flush to your mouth for a few seconds, emptying himself completely into your stomach. He hissed as he pulled your head off of his now oversensitive cock.

“Lemme see.” he sighed. You stuck out your tongue, displaying your empty mouth to him.

“Mmm good girl.” He offered you his hand to help you up off of your knees. He tucked himself back into his pants as the locker room door creaked open.

“That’s my queue!” Tendou pulled you in for one final kiss, moaning as the taste of his cum hit his tongue. And with that, he shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders and took off walking down the hallway.

_____

You walked face first into a warm chest when you rounded the corner leading to the locker room door, looking for Ushijima. Looks like you had found him. His hair was still damp from the shower, his body was warm and humid through his clothes.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked.

“Yea-” you cleared your throat. “Yeah!” That’s better. Your voice was horse and your throat was sore.

Ushijima noted your appearance. Your hair was messy and your makeup was smudged. Your lips were bright red and your chin was glistening. He took your hand in his to begin the quiet walk to his dorm room. He heard footsteps in the opposite direction, only to turn around to see Tendou walking away from the two of you, a slight pep in his step and unknownst to Ushijima a smug look on his face.

#tendou satori x reader #tendou satori x reader smut #tendou satori smut #tendou smut #tendou x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima smut #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa smut

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

Hey! I really liked that atsumu x reader fic where reader's Kita's sister. Could we get a similar fic but instead it's Kuroo dating kenma's equally as socially awkward sister/team manager?

Dating your Brothers teammate PT 2 (Kuroo)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.8K

Genre: angst, fluff

You were a first year in Nekoma high school

You kept to yourself, since you found it hard to make friends

You spent your time in your classes, the library or joining your old brother’s (kenma) practices, although when you did attend you didn’t socialize with all your brother teammates you either sat with a book on in your hand or (if you were lucky) played on Kenma’s nintendo swtich.

When Kuroo first saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl that he ever laid his eyes on. He was speechless, to say the least. Kenma introduced him and you first as when you started in your first year, since he knew that you two should at least be acquainted with each other as you were all going to be walking to school together.

You found Kuroo very annoying (and that was an understatement) his debonair smirk, his wild wild bedhead and all of his continuous chemistry puns were things you found attractive annoying about him.

Sometimes when you attend practice, you could tell that Kuroo was trying extra hard in an attempt to ‘show off’ to you, but you took no notice since you knew what type of guy Kuroo was (well you thought). Kuroo was a heavy flirt (well everyone he laid eyes on) he also was a giant dick. To you, he was a your average stereotypical teenage boy.

One day, Kenma fell ill with a cold so it just left you alone to walk to school. However, when you left your house, you see the last person you want to see.

“Kenma’s not coming today” you whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah I know” he smiled

“So then why are you here?” you ask

“Well I’ll have you know Y/N, I’m here to see you.” he said as you start walking

On your route to school, you don’t say much just letting Kuroo talk about things or asking you questions to which you just nodded or shook your head in reply. As much as you’d like too, you didn’t know how to properly talk to someone like Kuroo, knowing the types of conversations he’s used to having with people, especially other girls.

Reaching the gates of Nekoma, before you could step inside Kuroo pulls you to side and puts his hands on your shoulders “Y/N” he says,

“Yes Kuroo?” you look up at him

“I just want to say I like you..” he says waiting for a response from you

“I-I ...umm” You didn’t really know what to say, although you did find him annoying beyond relief there were some redeeming qualities about Kuroo that you could think of. But would two even work properly?

From your lack of response Kuroo continued, “I’m sure you don’t trust me right now, but Y/N don’t worry I’ll make sure I’ll prove to you that I’m a good guy for you.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, since you didn’t really know what to say to that. Just then, the bell rings and you were still frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when you hear Kuroo shout from afar “Don’t worry Y/N im going to do my best to woo you!”

Over the next month, Kuroo is doing his extra best to get you to fall in love with him doing things like: walking you to your lessons, carrying your books for you, bringing you lunch and spending everyday complimenting you to your face and to his friends.

His actions made you swoon, you did feel more comfortable around him, although you haven't confessed your feelings yet, you were planning on to at the date that you reluctantly accepted to go on. You were going to have dinner first at this nice restaurant that you showed interest in ages ago and you were planning to watch a sequel to *insert favourite movie here* since he knew that you really liked the first one.

Before leaving out to the date you looked in the mirror giving yourself a once over. ‘Wow I look hot’ you thought smiling, you were kind of excited to see Kuroo and hear what he had to say about how you looked today. When you were leaving you were startled by Kenma who said

“Where are you going Y/N?” he asked with his eyes focused on his game

“Oh, to the library” you lied your cheeks heating up.

“Sure, you are...” he said

“Bye Kenma” you say putting your hand on the door knob

“Oh Y/N” he calls

“Mhm”

“You look nice today” making you smile wide giving your brother a ‘Thank you’ before finally leaving.

On the way to the restaurant, you had a pep in your step, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been in a while. You stood outside the restaurant and took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of nerves that washed over you. You counted to 10 and walked in the resturaunt freezing at what you saw, there was Kuroo looking as handsome as ever but next to him was a beautiful girl who was tall and had long hair, pretty eyes and a great body who also reminded you of someone you knew (but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.)

She exclaimed “Tetsu!” and pulling into a hug, her boobs pushing against his chest making you cringe. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t compete with this European-looking supermodel, especially she already looks really friendly with ‘Tetsu.’

You storm out the restaurant a bit too aggressively, causing attention to yourself making Kuroo look at over to you, cursing himself for knowing how the situation looks to you. He chases after you, but sadly you were already gone.

When you got home, you rushed upstairs to your room with tears in your eyes. You knew this was stupid in the first place ‘Trusting a guy like Kuroo Testurou, how stupid can you be.’

Kenma came into your room, never asking or caring to know what happened as he knew that once you were ready to tell him you would. You and Kenma have always been close, as you’re both as quiet as each other you never felt the need to be surrounded by a bunch of people since both of you were just what each of you needed.

You managed to forget the awfulness of your ‘date’ getting distracted by trying to win in a game of Murder Mystery on roblox and also having fun trolling 6 year olds with your brother. The night was basically ended and before you dozed off to sleep and Kenma went to his own bedroom he said “At least talk to him Y/N” leaving your room not waiting for a response.

As you slept, you thought about what Kenma said ‘what more is their to say to Kuroo?’ You did think about all the possibilites of what could’ve really happened with Kuroo and that girl. Maybe they’re just friends? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of you being wrong. You were never wrong. So you just slept with the assumption of Kuroo being who you thought he was in the first place. A womanizing dick.

As lonely it was, you didn’t tag along with Kenma to the gym and you made sure to wake up earlier so you didn’t have to walk to school with your brother and your boyfriend his best friend.

Kuroo really wanted to talk to you again but you were heavy on the ignoring him. He even asked Kenma for help, but even though your brother was definitely always going to be on your side no matter what, he didn’t want to be in between his bestfriend and his little sister.

When you were walking home from school one day, you were stopped by the pretty girl that was with Kuroo on your ‘date.’ “Hi, my name is Alisa Haiba” she said smiling

‘Haiba’ you thought ‘Where do I know that surname?’ until you realised, “Oh your L-”

“Lev’s sister, that knucklehead is my brother” she laughed

“So what do you need me for?” you ask

“Me and Kuroo are just friends, I know you probably won’t believe me but me and him are NOT dating or anything romantic, he’s as much as a little brother too me then Lev is” she said

“Oh ok, thanks” you didn’t have any more to say and with this newfound information, you did feel more inclined to give Kuroo a chance, and that is if he even wanted one after all the ignoring and avoiding you’ve been doing. Now you feel stupid.

You thought back to all your times with Kuroo, making you smile. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t shy away from this anymore, you thought about the scenario of him completely rejecting you and to be honest you were content with that as if ‘you don’t ask you don’t get’ or whatever the saying is. Since it was Friday, you knew that Kuroo would be at Kenmas playing smash bros on their switches (and that’s when you would usually spend extra time at the library to avoid him.)

So, you rushed to your house, dramatically opening the door exasperated. “Kuroo!” you shout, not even looking to see if he was there, to your horror there was the whole team over tonight who were quite humored by your shout.

You went red and then shyly whispered “May I speak to Kuroo please?” looking up at him “that’s if you wanted”

“Umm...sure” he said getting up to follow you into your room.

Kenma gave you a reassuring smile that read ‘Everything's going to be ok.’ You led Kuroo to your bedroom and sat on your bed fidgeting.

“I’m sorry”

You both say at the same time, making each other laugh he waits for you to speak, “Kuroo, I’m sorry for misreading the situation and ignoring you and making you out to be a complete dick, I know I’m probably a bit too late but I’d love to ask you on a proper date... one that I won’t run away on this time”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m sorry for not actually explaining the situation as I know what it looked like. And yes, I will definitely take you up on that date... that’s if you’ll have a ‘dick’ like me” he jokes

You playfully shove his arm, making you both laugh. You spend the rest of the night with Kuroo in your room catching up on all the things you’ve both missed out on in the time when you were ignoring him.

The date you went on was better than you imagined, Kuroo was definitely a great guy (making you feel even more stupid for assuming differently in the first place.) You developed an amazing relationship with Kuroo, which lead you to eventually become mrs Y/N Kuroo and having Kenma and Kuroo be able to officially call themselves ‘real brothers’

AN: I really actually enjoyed this one, so I hope you do too. <3

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo scenarios #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #signedwithane😌

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years

Note

Greetings one of mah fave authors :) Hope you're doing well today 💖 Do you mind if I request for some yandere Damain Wayne x reader headcanons or a oneshot where the reader loves to write stuff on Wattpad and Tumblr? Oh, and will he let reader have her own Wattpad/ Tumblr account after he kidnaps her? But lol, imagine the chaos that would go down when people start saying that they love her 😂

Greeting to you as well one of my favorite authors,

I’m doing good thanks for asking ♡

~*~

After Damian kidnapped his beloved he refused to let her have her phone for the longest time, he didn’t want her contacting anyone or talking to anyone that wasn’t him or his family. Of course, he tapped her phone with the bat computer so he would see any text or call sent out or received. But, to be safe he had Drake hack her phone and made it so she couldn’t even open the apps. But, after much begging he finally allowed her to use her favorite app Wattpad to read on. He had never used the app before so he didn’t know much about it other than she could read so he didn’t have much of a problem with it.

Y/N was an author on Wattpad as well, she wrote her own stories that gained quite a lot of traction before she was kidnapped and left it on a cliffhanger for months. So, when she finally posts once again her followers went crazy, they begged her to continue the story and she was so happy her story had so many views that she couldn’t deny them this.

Whenever Damian was out she worked on the story and one day Damian came home early and saw her typing.

“What are you doing My Beloved?” Damian spoke as he walked into the room he shared with her. She squealed and jumped slightly into the air from surprise and slight embarrassment.

“Im just writing a story on Wattpad.” Y/N spoke sheepishly and saved her work before swiping out of it. Damian rose an eyebrow and looked at her suspiciously.

“I’ll read it.” He spoke and walked over to the desk she sat at before grabbing her phone and walking over to the bed. She slightly chased after him but she knew she couldn’t prevent him from doing what he wanted.

He clicked view as reader on her story and began the first page, then the second and he kept reading even as she went and grabbed a book from the small library Damian had in his room that consisted only of her favorite books. He continued reading until he reach a page with a small number to the right of a paragraph.

He clicked on it and saw a bunch of comments pop up.

“This is so good.”

“Your writing is amazing!”

“I wonder what will happen next!”

He immediately was alarmed, she could contact people on Wattpad?! He didn’t know that when he allowed her to have the app.

“Y/N.” Damian spoke in a accusingly manner.

“Yes?” She spoke, slightly scared at his tone of voice.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can talk to other people on here?”

Her eyes widened, She knew Damian didn’t want her to be able to contact the outside world. To be honest, she hadn’t minded all that much when he kidnapped her. She didn’t have any family and very few people she could hardly consider friends.

Damian looked at her with a eyebrow raised and a slight scowl on his face.

“Hmm?” He questioned again after she didn’t respond.

“Well, I really never thought about it. I promise I never commented on other things before and I haven’t wrote anything in my stories.” Damian was slightly surprised but wouldn’t show it. “I mean… I like staying here with you. You care for me more than anyone else ever has.” Y/N spoke the last part quietly and quite sheepishly but he still heard making him grin. He turned back to the story after he kissed her forehead and he pulled her to lay on his chest as she read her book and he read hers. It was when he reached the latest chapter and saw the comments.

“This is so good! Please update!”

“Wow.”

“I love you-“

“I love your writing.”

“I love this!”

Damian saw the word pop up many times through the next comments and he was growing angry. Nobody loved her, not like he did. No one deserved to love his beloved, they were all unworthy.

“Y/N.” He spoke again with a harsh tone. She looked up at him and he stared directly into her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Who are these people? They keep saying ‘I love you’ and love this and love that! I love you! Not them!”

Damian was throwing a huge fit. He was deleting every single comment that contained the word ‘love’ in it and Y/N sat and watched him do so. She felt guilty as they were just compliments for her story and not actually her. He was standing as well, slightly pacing as he continued to dwell.

Once Damian had calmed down a little she walked over to him and held his face in her hands. He looked down at her and his eyes softened noticeably.

“It’s okay Damian. They aren’t really saying they love me, they mean the story. I have never even disclosed who I am on Wattpad. It’s just a pen name.” She attempted to ease but he still felt annoyed.

“But-“

“I know. You love me, they don’t really. They love my story. I appreciate there support of course but I am yours.”

He was stunned, of course she said it like that as he had drilled it into her head after he kidnapped her, that she was his. But it sounded better as it came out of her mouth. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips to shut it up which worked as he stood frozen for a second while she looked down sheepishly.

He gained back his senses and smirked before truly smiling for a second.

“I love you.” Damian said staring into her Y/E/C eyes. They were beautiful and bright, full of wonder as well.

“And I you.”

~*~

Sorry this was short, I wasn’t sure what to put ♡

#yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #Yandere #xreader #Wattpad #batfam

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katsukikiss · 3 years

Text

JEALOUSY

JEAN x F!READER // COLLEGE AU // MINORS DNI!

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, cheating(ish?), oral m receiving, soft dom jean, face f*cking, suggestive dancing (w/connie and eren), alcohol use, reader is wayyy too flirty with others lol

Jean is a super kind and forgiving boyfriend, but what happens when you push his limits?

AN: idk wtf this is I just know I love this man and I had to write for him at some point, let me know if I should make a part two 😵‍💫

WC: 2.5k

Masterlist

The air was warm despite the sun being long gone. The summer was nearly over and classes would be starting up again soon. Obviously someone needed to throw one last hurrah before that, and your boyfriend and his friends were going to do just that. Jean was such a kind lover, and was a bit possesive in the beginning but now he was nothing but a sweetheart and kept saying how he couldn’t wait to dance with you later that night. You had known his friends for years, hanging out with them since you guys were freshmen and always staying in their shared house they had together. But their eyes would linger on you for too long, something your and your boyfriend had always noticed, but a sloppy tongue kiss or an ass grab would usually solve the issue. He trusted you, and trusted his friends for the most part…

They placed you in charge of getting drinks for the party since you always complained about the beverages they would offer. You and Sasha went together to buy some beer, seltzer and liquor. It wouldn’t be a party if there wasn’t snacks, or at least that was Sasha’s motto. You drove to one more store to pick up chips and pretzels before bringing your friend home and heading back to your boyfriends place.

You made your way up to Jeans room to finish getting ready. He was busy downstairs fixing up the basement with new LED lights since the old ones short circuited at the last party. You were probably too comfortable in his shared house, most of your clothes were here too. You undressed out of the t-shirt and shorts you were running errands in and sat on a chair in your bra and underwear. Music blasting, half naked, sitting in front of your boyfriends mirror applying makeup, you had no care in the world. You couldn’t hear the belligerent knocking on the door so they entered.

“CONNIE! GET THE FUCK OUT!” you squealed at the man who had just entered, instinctively throwing your arms over your chest, leaving your legs and panties exposed.

“MAYBE TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN AND I WOULDN’T HAVE BURSTED IN LIKE THIS” he yelled back at you, laughing at your flimsy attempt to cover yourself. You fumbled with the volume buttons on your phone before looking back at him.

“Can I help you?” you questioned, giving him the faintest tint of attitude.

“Nah, Jean asked me to grab some wire for the speakers, but I might stick around a little longer” he said with a sly smirk. Connie was never afraid to openly flirt with you, even in front of Jean, and it didn’t bother the two of you much, you knew it was all in good fun so sometimes you’d tease him back.

“Oh yeah?” you mused, removing your hands from your chest. “I dont think you’d last very long in here” His face turned bright red, as it always did when youd pretend to be interested in him. Before he could even answer Jean was barging into the room and instantly stood in between you two to cover your body from his friend.

“Find the wire?” Jean asked plainly. Connie nodded and swiftly made his way downstairs to finish setting up. Jean pressed a hand onto his door to close it before turning around to face you with a disapproving look.

“You know youre mine right? I dont need Connie doing something dumb later because you were teasing him” he growled at you. You looked up with innocent eyes and rutted your lower lip out. Your pouty face and adorable eyes made it hard for him to seriously be mad at you.

“Im sorry baby you know I was just messing around”

“Yeah yeah I know” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “hurry up though okay? People are gonna be here soon and I dont need more people seeing you like this”. You gave him a confirming nod and proceeded to finish applying your makeup, this time with the music playing a bit lower than before.

“To senior year!” Eren chanted and everyone repeated back “to senior year!” before you all downed shots of various liquors in the crammed kitchen. Jeans hand rested on your hip in a show of dominance. You were earning looks from his friends as well as some other senior guys you didn’t know. A tiny black dress was fitted to your figure, leaving very little to the imagination with the way it accentuated your curves.

“Y/N! Come dance with MEE” Sasha called out to you. You looked up at your boyfriend who nodded with a smile. He removed his hands from your body and watched you skip away to follow your friend down into the basement. He watched as a few others proceeded to make their way downstairs as well, as if they were following you.

The temperature of the basement was at least 5x hotter than the rest of the house because of all the bodies crammed into it. You were pretty drunk already, which is why the heat didn’t bother you or anyone else that much. Sasha pulled you through a sea of people to the back wall of the basement. The led lights outlined the ceiling with a purple glow that made it hard to see. You leaned onto the concrete for support because your head was spinning a bit after being bumped and pushed around while music was blaring. Your eyes attempted to refocus as you looked around for your friend.

“Stay here!!!! I will be right BACK okay?” she slurred. You lazily nodded as you watched the girl who brought you to this cave of a basement leave you alone. You scanned the dimly lit room for someone you knew, stumbling through the hoard. Two hands snaked their way onto your hips without you even noticing until your ass was aggressively pulled up against someones crotch. They forcibly swayed your hips in line with their own to the rhythm of the music. Your body stopped resisting and started to move on its own, the strangers hands no longer guiding you but rather holding on for the ride.

“Your ass feels so fuckin nice y/n” a familiar voice gruffed in your ear. You recognized it as Eren; Your body halted for a moment as you thought of your boyfriend, but he wouldn’t be mad at you right? It was all harmless fun, he was the only one that got to really have you at the end of the day. The alcohol in your system drowned out those thoughts as you bent over and shook your ass against him, his hips rutting forward to feel every little movement you were making while his hands dug into you. You heard him whisper ‘fuck’ a few times when you would throw your ass back into his groin.

When you snapped back up you felt a new pair of hands on you. The man behind you now had more rhythm in his actions, grinding his hips against you to the beat of the pop song that you could barely hear anymore. You turned your head slightly to see Connie, his eyes fixated on your gyrating curves while the rest of the men were watching. You laughed internally, faintly recalling what happened between you two earlier.

“I was waiting for my turn sexy” he whispered in your ear, his hot drunk breath making your neck feel sticky. You wrapped your arm back and hooked it around his neck while slithering up and down his body. Your vision was blurry and your head was all over the place. You could feel his bulge growing with every twist and turn you made. His hands made their way up your sides to the front of your body and onto your breasts, squeezing entirely too hard. You pulled yourself off of him instantly upon feeling his intrusive hands on your chest, it was as if the feeling snapped you out of the drunken haze you were in. You turned around to scowl at him, backing up a foot or two before you bumped into someones chest. Connies eyes left yours and looked up to the person behind you with a shred of fear. Turning to look up, you found relief in knowing it was your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around Jean and pulled him in tightly. One hand of his rested on the top of your head but he never stopped looking at his group of friends.

“Had fun?” he growled at them. Eren walked away, annoyed that their fun was ruined. Connie hesitantly backed up before attempting to apologize over the noise. He left and made his way upstairs, fearing that if he stayed any longer Jean would really hurt him.

“What was that about?” he snapped at you. While he didn’t care if they tried to flirt with you, actually putting their hands on you was too far for him. You backed off of his chest before speaking.

“I didn’t think you’d be mad baby I’m sorryyyy, but don’t you wanna dance with mee?” you slurred. He didn’t have his usual soft expression this time and your adorable looks didn’t have any effect on him anymore.

“Not anymore, you’re coming with me” he demanded. His low tone made you weak, you knew what was coming next when he spoke to you like that. He latched onto your wrist and pulled you up the stairs, through the kitchen, pass Eren who gave you a wicked smile and wink, as if knowing exactly what was about to happen. You made your way up to his room, he scooped you up into his arms and threw you onto the bed and stood at the foot.

“I said I was sorry” you pleaded, desperation in your voice and eyes. He liked when you would beg for mercy like this, you wanted what was coming next but pretending like you didn’t was so much more fun.

“Oh I know baby, but sorry isn’t gonna cut it tonight” he hummed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and began crawling on top of you like a lion about to devour its prey. You felt so small underneath him and his presence. You could feel the heat from his breath on your neck as he leaned closer, and he could feel the heat between your legs as you pushed your hips forward. You were waiting to feel his mouth on your neck but he pulled away and got up from the bed, your face was visibly upset.

“You know I like to make you feel good sweetheart, but I don’t think you deserve that tonight, not after what you’ve done” he said, unbuckling the belt encasing his hips. He slipped it off and let his pants fall to the floor and signaled with a finger for you to come closer. You crawled across the bed and tugged at his boxers he still had on. He lowered them a bit and allowed his long thick cock to spring out onto your lips.

You gathered saliva and spit onto him, massaging it around with your hands. You kissed the tip a few times, giving it sweet little licks before wrapping your lips around and taking him in, your behind in the air while you descended onto his cock. His hands massaged at your legs as your head bobbed in an attempt to please your man and receive his forgiveness. He pulled you off his cock by your hair and flipped you over so your back was against the bed and your head was hanging off the side. He bent down to your ear and spoke.

“I think I deserve to fuck this pretty mouth of yours, especially since you were being such a slut tonight” he whispered. You nodded, a mix of concern and kexcitement on your face; he NEVER called you names like that before, but something about it was making you feel hot; you didn’t want it to end. He stood back up, your mouth hanging open waiting for him to use. Slowly, he pushed himself in, watching you struggle and gag from the sheer depths he was reaching in that position. He wrapped two hands around your neck and began to thrust ferociously, causing several tears to fall down your cheeks. His cock was pounding into your throat that could barely accommodate.

“Your my fuckin slut, you got that?” he growled at you, his voice shaky. You tried to reply but only gurgles came out. You loved this new side of Jean you were seeing, and wondered what else you could do to get him to treat you like this again. He could feel himself in that little throat of yours against his hands, and with every thrust he could see the bulge he was creating and it drove him wild. A sweet mixture of your gagging and his mumbles and groans filled the small room. His resolve was gone as his cock began to twitch, spewing his warm white seed down your throat. He had never came in your mouth before so you were surprised when he did, you felt so full with his cock and stuffed down your throat. He dragged himself out, a string of your saliva and his seed connecting you two to eachother before snapping apart.

“Open up sweetheart, I wanna see it” he said, looking at you upside down. You opened and allowed your tongue to hang out, exposing all of the sticky white fluid coating your mouth. He admired it all for a minute before he teasingly squeezed your cheeks together and stood up.

“You can swallow now” You gulped it down and coughed a bit, your throat sore from the abuse it just endured. Jean walked over to the bathroom and filled a glass with water and grabbed you a t-shirt. He sat down on the bed beside you, you stripped yourself of the little black dress you had on and slipped into the t-shirt.

“C’mere” he pulled you by the waist into his lap, “you know I love you right? I’m sorry if I was too rough” You nodded no, and nuzzled your face into his chest, his fingers drawing little circles on your back.

“I love you too Jean” you cooed. He was always so forgiving with you, never staying mad for too long, never going too far.

“How about we make a little more noise hm? Let my boys know who you really belong to” he suggested, a primal look in his eyes. Your legs quivered at the thought of Jean making you scream, and all of his friends getting hard just listening.

“Do it, make me scream” you whispered. In one swift motion he flipped you over onto your back and grabbed your face by the jaw, towering over you again like his prey.

“Im gonna make you regret that”

#jean kirschstein #jean x reader #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jaeger #armin aot #aot fluff

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leiasfanaccount648 · 4 years

Text

I’m So Sorry

Keigo Takami [Hawks] x Fem!Reader

Request from Anon: Hello i am new to your account, and i think it's great. Im a hawks simp so you might get more requests of him if thats okay lol. Uhm can my first request be a hawks x fem reader angst, if you write that and uh can it be an imagine where he gets mad at her and ends up hurting her, angst with happy ending? .i hope that is okay but its up to u. Thank youuu!!

A/N: Thank you again so much for your request! I hope you don’t mind, but I did change this up a little bit. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings/Contains: Angst, this takes place during/after the last two episodes of season 4 so slight manga spoilers? (I haven’t read much so this is mostly just hypothetical speculation from what I have read), cursing, argument, reader being shoved by Keigo.

Word Count: 2031

He knew it was risky, but then again, what else was he supposed to do? He had no other option. He had to be careful on how he went about this, as anyone could be watching or listening. Hell, for all he knew someone already knew of what he was planning to do or already done and was waiting for the perfect moment to chance to blackmail him.

However, he couldn’t think of that right now. He had to focus on what his plans were. If one thing went wrong or was out of place, it could sabotage everything.

“Keigo?”

The winged man flinched slightly as he heard his name being called out so suddenly. He had been so lost in thought that he had stopped eating the dinner that his girlfriend prepared for him. Keigo looked up at her, blinking to get rid of any possible look he had in his eyes that could worry her.

“Hm? What is it, baby?”

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out there.”

(Y/N) let out a chuckle, finding it a little funny how her boyfriend would sometimes focus on the smallest things. She didn’t find it out of the ordinary, but she did find it odd that something other than herself managed to tear Keigo away from the precious chicken parmesan you made him. As he replied to her, part of her began to take notice how out of place he seemed to be every now and then over the last few weeks; this was just the first time she had taken the time to ask him about it.

“Oh,” Keigo laughed along with her, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking about work is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” (Y/N) took a bite from the food on her plate, her tone being very easy going as it was obvious to her boyfriend that he didn’t have to tell her, but she was still there to listen if he needed her. At the same time, she wanted to know in case something was seriously wrong. He was a pro hero after all, and that job comes with many risks.

“No, it’s alright. A certain case has just been in my mind after hearing about it today.” Keigo took a bite of the chicken, humming in satisfaction at the taste. He swore he would never get tired of his girlfriend’s cooking. “Dinner’s great, by the way. Thank you for making it.” He smiled, knowing that he changed the subject smoothly enough to make both of them move on from the previous topic.

(Y/N) proceeded to thank him, going on to say that she had to run to the store at the last minute to get an ingredient that they didn’t have in the kitchen. Of course, Keigo’s thoughts remained elsewhere while his eyes were trained on the one he loved.

The next morning, Keigo had gotten up a little bit earlier than usual before leaving for work. Granted, he did have to make a stop first before the hero rankings happened later that day.

Keigo had arrived at the warehouse first, looking around the building to make sure no one could possibly see him before walking inside.

“About time you got here.”

Keigo had barely taken 3 steps inside before he heard the voice. Even if he had expected it, he still pulled out one of his longest and sharpest feathers and pointed it in the direction he heard it in. He kept the hard glare on his face as he stared at the man. “You should be more careful about keeping yourself out of sight, Dabi.”

The man chuckled, obviously sarcastic as he shrugged his shoulders while his hands rested in his pockets. “Please, if anyone else stumbled across this place I would have taken care of them without you even knowing.” He smirked slightly, almost making Keigo question whether or not Dabi really had done that before he arrived.

Either way, he rolled his eyes and lowered the feather in his hand. They had work to do soon that could not be treated nicely. “Let’s just finalize the details and get this over and done with, shall we?”

~ ~ ~

Keigo smiled to himself, proud of the fact that he managed to bring Endeavor to his hometown of Fukuoka just like he planned. Now, all that was left to do was seal the deal and wait for everything to go down the next day, or so he had thought.

He and Endeavor were eating lunch to discuss all that was going on when it happened, and part of Keigo was annoyed at himself for thinking that it would happen this way. Nevertheless, he and Endeavor fought the Nomu that Dabi and himself had planned for in hopes that everything would turn out like the plan originally intended to go.

It was a hard fight, one that even he didn’t expect to go the way it did. Of course, he couldn’t focus on that factor for long, as he still had a job to do. Sadly, it fell short as Endeavor had won the battle against the Nomu. Even though he was hoping for the end of Endeavor like Dabi was, he couldn’t help but admire the pro for always trying to get to the number one spot.

Endeavor always kept trying to get there unlike others who simply stood by thinking it was impossible. Keigo strived to be like that too, even if he claimed to want a lower hero ranking. He wanted to be able to create a laidback world so that heroes didn’t have to work so hard all the time, and he would do anything in order to do so. Including killing the man who had inspired him.

While he was upset about the plan not going the way he had hoped, and the fact that Dabi had acted without telling him, Keigo couldn’t help but feel stressed due to the fact that everything he had done in order to pull this off was now a waste. And he had no idea when he would be able to get another chance like this again.

He managed to reason with Dabi so that they could come up with another plan to end the current number one hero later in time, but for now, all he wanted to do was go home and relax in attempt to get rid of the pounding in his head and aches in his body from the fight he had.

The moment Keigo stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, (Y/N) made her way to the door to greet him, walking faster than usual. She knew that he was okay, as he had called her shortly before meeting with Dabi to let her know, but worry was still written all over her face.

“Keigo,” (Y/N)’s hands raised to her mouth as she noticed that most of his wings were gone after the fight. Even if they would grow back over the course of a couple days, it was still an unusual sight to see from her boyfriend. “Your wings.” She stepped towards him again, reaching out to hold his cheek so he’d look her in the eye.

Instead, Keigo moved her hand away before she could touch him and took off his coat followed by his shoes. “I’m fine, (Y/N).”

The tone in his voice was one (Y/N) knew all too well: stress. “You’re not, and we both know it.”

Keigo didn’t say a word and simply walked past her to the kitchen. He reached into one cabinet and grabbed a glass, then into another to grab a bottle of gin and seltzer water. (Y/N) followed him, choosing her words carefully. “You don’t have to tell me what’s on your mind, whether you do or not. But please tell me how I can help you.”

“You can be quiet, that’s how you can help.”

(Y/N) eyed him, part of her hurt from his words and part of her annoyed. “Excuse me?” “You may say that you can help, but right now, all I need from you is silence and to leave me alone.” Kiego’s back faced her while he spoke, making the cocktail that he decided on. He turned around and took a big sip; he took in the expression she now wore herself.

“What on earth happened to make you start acting like this?” (Y/N) took a step forward, still hoping that she could figure out what was actually going on. There was definitely a reason as to why he acted so different compared to the way he did after a hard day at work, so what caused it?

“What do you want me to say when I come home from work, (Y/N)? That everything was all fine and dandy? No crime happened throughout the city? The district? The country?” He let out a short yet sarcastic laugh. “Well guess what sweetheart? That just isn’t the case, is it?” He took another swig of his drink before setting it down on the counter.

(Y/N) held back from sounding so harsh, becoming more and more ticked off as her boyfriend dodged question after question thrown at him. “Keigo, please,” she stepped forward, reaching out to him again. “Just answer my question so I can help you.”

Keigo eyed her as she got close, her words starting to get to him. He was a hero, so he should be helping other people, not the other way around. But, with his plans in flames from Dabi, the world he was hoping for was now even further out of his reach.

He stepped away to walk out of the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. “I’m going to get a shower.”

(Y/N) trailed after him, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him as Keigo began to step into the hallway. “No, you’re not.” It was then that Keigo would turn to regret everything.

“I told you to leave me alone!”

In less than a second, Keigo turned around to move (Y/N)’s hand off of him, but in the process of doing so, he accidentally put too much strength into his movements and slammed (Y/N) into the cabinets next to her with just his arm.

(Y/N) lost her breath as well as her footing from hitting the wood so hard and fell to the floor. She hesitantly looked up at her boyfriend, seeing as he was now glaring harsher at her with his teeth slightly bared. She could almost feel the anger now radiating off of him, and she was terrified.

The realization of what Keigo had just done sunk in mere seconds after it happened. He felt his heart drop at the sight of the one he loved on the ground from his actions, now scared of him and what he would possibly do to her next. “(Y/N),” was all he could get out.

“No, don’t.” (Y/N) moved back on the floor as best as she could in her scared state. She eventually stood up, backing up away from him while her arms wrapped around herself. “If you’re going to act like this, then I’m going to leave before you do anything worse.”

Keigo couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes, instead staring at the floor. He didn’t even move when (Y/N) walked past him with tears in her eyes. He could hear her grab her keys and put on her shoes before leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

Keigo didn’t try running after her, instead raising a hand to grip his hair tightly and leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Fuck.” This all happened because of him and his selfish actions, and there was no other way to look at the situation. “I’m sorry.”

He knew that one simple apology wasn’t going to solve anything, but then again he didn’t know what he could do to turn this around. He grit his teeth and his other hand hit the wall beside him. “I’m so sorry.”

#hawks x reader #hawks fanfiction #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami fanfiction #keigo takami imagine #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha imagines #My writing #my work #my post

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rafecameron · 4 years

Text

super spies - r.c

Summary: In which reader follows her boyfriend to try and catch him cheating and Rafe tags along

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: This kinda sucks but im posting it anyways

*GIF is mine*

You were almost one hundred percent sure your boyfriend was cheating on you. You thought it, your friends thought it, but you needed some hard evidence before you broke up with his sorry ass. You didn’t want to throw a two year relationship down the drain over a misunderstanding, though the niggling in your stomach should be proof enough that you were right.

You text him asking him his plans for the day and he replies saying he’s staying home as he’s not feeling well. You already know this is a lie as you’re sat in your car staring at his car from across the road, you were parked close to the town centre. You supposed he really could be ill and he had stopped off to get some medicine, but you highly doubted it.

Getting out of your car you stuff your phone into your bag and head towards the shops, not sure where you would find him but determined to do so. You checked multiple shops, no sign of him in any of them. You sigh audibly to yourself, almost ready to give up before you catch a glimpse of him from across the road. You quickly duck into an alley way, poking your head round to watch where he was going, you saw him disappear into the cafe across the street.

Checking the coast was clear you bolt across the street, sneaking up to the cafe and poking your head round the corner of it to peek through the window, it’s busy inside but you can see him at the counter ordering. He didn’t look very ill to you. You glare through the window at him, watching him smile and chat to the girls behind the counter as he waits for his order, you could feel yourself getting more annoyed by the second.

You were so engrossed on watching your boyfriends actions that you didn’t notice someone coming up behind you, their head practically touching yours before the finally spoke into your ear, “What are you doing?”

You sucked in a breath of air out of shock and spun round, glaring at the amused person behind you, “What the hell is your problem?” You yell at him, hand over your pounding heart, you quickly look back into the cafe hoping that your yelling hadn’t given away your position. Luckily your boyfriend didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Why are you sneaking around? You’re acting really weird.” Rafe laughs, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for an answer.

You sigh running a hand through your hair, you quickly grab his arm and pull him out of view of the cafe window, “I’m watching my boyfriend.” You admit, not really sure why you were telling him the truth. Sure, you’d known him your whole life, he was your best friends brother after all, but that didn’t mean you should tell him about your cheating ass of a boyfriend.

Rafe raises an eyebrow at your confession, “That’s a bit stalkerish, don’t you think?” He asks, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“I guess,” You shrug, “But I need to see where he’s going.”

“Why?” Rafe asks, but you don’t have time to answer him as the cafe door swings open and your boyfriend appears, walking in the opposite direction with two coffee cups in his hands.

“Be quiet.” You warn the boy beside you as you head off in the direction your boyfriend was going, you could feel Rafe following behind, you hadn’t actually expected him to tag along.

“What are we? Super spies now?” Rafe laughs behind you but you just slap at his arm and shush him in annoyance.

You follow him into a small park on the outskirts of the town, keeping close to the tree line in hopes that he wouldn’t notice you and Rafe tailing him. You quickly put a hand out to stop Rafe walking as your boyfriend comes to a stop next to a bench, handing one of the drinks to a pretty blonde girl who was sat there. She stands up as he speaks to her pulling him into a hug. His free hand goes to her waist and he leans down and kisses her quick on the lips.

Your jaw clenches in anger, gripping onto the strap of your bag harshly as you shoot daggers at the pair by the bench, “I knew it.” You said through clenched teeth.

“What a fucking asshole,” Rafe fumes from behind you, “You want me to go beat the shit out of him? Cause I will.”

You glare at them for a moment longer before turning to Rafe, eyes wet mostly from anger and frustration than from hurt, you shake your head. “He really isn’t worth it.” You reply, wiping a tear off of your cheek as you begin to head out of the park.

“You’re not even gonna confront him?” Rafe asks running up behind you, his hand rests lightly on your shoulder and you don’t have the energy to shrug it off.

“No, I’m not. Let him be happy with her, I’m over it.” You huff out, the tears on your face telling a completely different story.

“You don’t look over it.” Rafe comments, falling into step beside you.

“And what would you know about it?” You snap at him, finally pushing his hand off your shoulder.

“I know that there’s a pretty girl in tears beside me because of some absolute tool.” He states, putting his hand back on your shoulder but this time stopping you from walking, “You were right when you said he’s not worth it. He was never good enough for you.”

You scoff and shrug his hand off again, “You don’t have to be nice to me, Rafe. You don’t even know me, you’re talking shit.”

“I don’t know you?” Rafe raises his eyebrows at your statement, “I’ve known you my whole life, Y/N. I know that you spend Saturdays in Sarah’s room eating ice cream and watching shitty girls movies. I know that you broke your arm when you were seven falling off the swing in your garden. I know that when you’re sad and hurt you get angry like you are now. I also know that you’re one of the nicest people on this stupid island and you don’t deserve that asshole hurting you like this.”

You blink up at him, fresh tears falling from your reddening eyes, shocked that he paid any attention to you at all, “Rafe, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything. I get it, I’m your friends asshole older brother and you hate me, but I don’t want to see you like this.” Rafe sighs out.

You take a second to process his words before replying, “I don’t hate you, Rafe. I could never hate you.”

“Yeah? Well then why don't you let me try to cheer you up?” He suggests, smiling now which only served to pull a smile onto your own lips.

“Okay.” You nod, wiping your face free of the last of your tears and following Rafe out of the park which was now your least favourite place on the island.

“So what are we doing?” You ask him after walking in silence the whole way back to the town centre.

“I’m cheering you up.” Rafe states again, “Wait here.” Rafe pulls you to a halt and sits you down on a bus stop bench before disappearing.

You knew you should probably call Sarah and tell her exactly what’s happened, let her come and pick you up and comfort you, but for some reason you were a little excited to be spending the day with Rafe. It was probably best you didn’t tell Sarah about that part. Before long Rafe returned, handing you a cone of ice cream which caused your face to light up.

You took it from him, licking at the cold scoop on top, “This is my favourite flavour.” You state as you begin walking beside him.

“I know.” Rafe states matter of factly.

You eat your ice creams in silence as Rafe leads you to his truck, by the time you climbed into the passenger seat you had finished eating and were curious as to what you were doing next.

“So, what are we doing?” You ask, buckling yourself in and watching Rafe excitedly.

Rafe shrugs, “There’s a couple things we can do. Or I could show you somewhere, if you want?”

You furrow your brows slightly, “Show me somewhere?” You asks and Rafe just nods his head in reply, “Okay, show me.” You smile and nod.

You were expecting the drive to feel awkward, you’d never really been alone with Rafe for more than a few minutes and you were worried you wouldn’t have anything to talk about, but you were worrying for no reason. The Rafe with you today was a side of Rafe that you didn’t see very often. He was friendly and open and extremely funny. He had you in stitches in the passenger seat, making comments about the stupidest things just to hear you laughing.

You were almost upset when the truck came to a stop and it was time to get out, “I could drive round with you all day.” You admit, a slight blush on your cheeks at you confession.

“Well we can do that next then.” Rafe smiles as he climbs out of his truck.

The devastation from early this morning was completely gone from your mind as you followed Rafe, the area he had brought you to looked a little run down, somewhere between figure eight and the cut, not somewhere you expected Rafe Cameron would hang out.

He reaches out and grabs your hand, “Watch where you’re stepping.” He warns you as he leads you off the path and into a wooded area, still gripping tightly onto your hand.

“Is this where you murder me and bury my body?” You ask playfully, eyes on the ground as you follow his steps so as not to fall over the many branches scattered across the floor.

“Am I that easy to read?” Rafe asks with a chuckle.

When Rafe’s feet stop walking in front of you you look up, peeking round from behind him, “Is this-wow.” You cut yourself off, fully stepping out from behind him, “This place is beautiful.” You comment, stepping in front of him to get a better look.

He’d brought you to the tiniest cove you had ever seen, the sand stretching no more than fifteen feet either way, rocks lining the edge of the sand and trees bunching together behind you. The ocean looked bluer her, like that pale blue water you imagine in exotic places and it lapped gently at the sand.

“How did you find this place?” You asked, finally turning away from the view to look at the boy behind you.

Rafe shrugs, “Needed to get away one day, somehow found this place. I come here whenever I need to be alone.” He admits.

“Thank you, for bringing me.” You smile, “I promise I wont keep turning up and ruining your peace.” You laugh gently.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Rafe admits, he moves to sit down in the sand and you follow suit, sitting beside him and looking out across the water.

“It’s so peaceful here, I can see why you come.” You mumble out, fingers burying themselves in the sand.

You spent the whole day in that cove with Rafe, laughing, messing around, having heart to hearts. You never imagined Rafe would have such a soft side to him, you were sure he would never want anyone else to find out.

“Are you cold?” Rafe asks, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side, you smile up at him appreciatively before looking back out across the ocean at the sun set, pink and orange glowing across the glittering water.

“Would you call me crazy if I said considering I caught my boyfriend cheating on me this morning I’ve had the best day ever?” You laugh softly at how stupid that sounded.

Rafe shrugged lightly, “I wouldn’t call you crazy. I’d just say you’ve learnt he was an ass who isn’t worth shit and moved on pretty quickly, it’s admirable.”

You look over at the boy sat next to you, “You think I’m admirable?” You ask.

Rafe’s eyes meet yours, the sunset casting an orange glow across his skin, “I think you’re incredibly strong, I always have.” Rafe admits.

You smile softly and don’t stop yourself when you feel yourself leaning forward, you rest a hand against his chest as your lips meet his. The kiss was soft and gently and didn’t last nearly as long as you would have liked it.

“I’m sorry-“ You start.

“Don’t me.” Rafe cuts you off, his hand coming up to the side of your face and pulling your lips against his again, this time with kiss was longer, his lips pressed against yours with more pressure. Before you knew it you were laid back against the sand, Rafe’s body hovering over yours as you got lost in the feeling of your lips together.

That’s how you spent the rest of the night, laying in the sand, pressing kisses against each others lips, noses, foreheads, cheeks. Lost in the feeling of each other and not caring about anything else, not needing anything more.

From that day onwards that became your spot. It’s where you held most of your dates, having picnics and drinks by the sea, it’s the first place you slept with Rafe and the first place you shared I love you’s and you couldn’t be more thankful to your ex for giving you the opportunity to let Rafe into your heart.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx x reader #obx #obx fic #my writing

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wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part One

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, mentions of death and murder, mentions of trauma, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 7,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

A/N: It’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience and support! Please enjoy!

“—this plan is fucking insane!”

“You said anywhere was better than the mansion!”

“That was before I knew you were claiming sanctuary with the very people that sent Teenage Chewbacca to maul Jinyoung and I!”

“It was Minho who turned Changbin! How many goddamn times do I have to say that to get it through your thick skull!?”

The incessant bickering of the two voices gradually lifts Jinyoung from his slumber, reintroducing his mind to the workings of reality. He flutters his eyes open, surprised at the lack of light, and forces himself to sit up. At his sudden movement, his head roars with pain, sending a dizzy spell through his limbs. He manages to swallow the temporary vertigo and keep upright, quickly realizing his current position in the backseat of a car.

“Jinyoung?... Oh thank god—he’s awake.”

“It’s about fucking time.”

“(Y/N)? Jaebeom-hyung?” Jinyoung squints, attempting to map out your and his brother’s silhouettes through the blackness. He manages to pinpoint the annoyed glare of the latter in the passenger seat, thus concluding that you are probably driving. “What happened? How did I get here?”

“While you were taking a snooze, that fucking superwolf broke into our home and nearly ripped my throat out.” Jaebeom snorts, “Of course, not until after he impaled me with my own landscaping.”

“I managed to stake him before he hurt Jaebeom.” You pipe in, “But we don’t think it killed him—only slowed him down long enough to let us get away.”

Jinyoung shakes his head in both confusion and shock, immediately regretting the decision when his brain pounds like a bass drum. He allows himself a moment to pass the ache before cautiously speaking, “And… where exactly are we going?”

“Yeah, Wonder Woman. Why don’t you tell my brother where your brilliant idea for refuge is?”

Jinyoung can feel the intensity of your glare from the back seat.

“I’m taking us to the wolf pack.” You murmur softly, “If anyone has a chance of talking Changbin down, it will be his own people.”

“And as I was explaining to our dear (Y/N), the wolf pack also has a pretty large bounty over our heads.” Jinyoung hears Jaebeom release a heavy sigh before leaning back in his seat, “We’ll be attacked the moment we step foot out of this car.”

“Would you stop being so damn paranoid?” Your frustrated demand echoes throughout the car, “Not everyone is out to kill you—”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies over the centuries, little dove… Killed a lot of people—pissed off even more.”

“Maybe, but I know you didn’t kill Jackson Wang.”

The car grows dead silent minus the heavy breathing of who Jinyoung assumes to be his hybrid companion. He tries to make out Jaebeom’s expression, but it’s too dark. His imagination will have to do.

“Everyone says you did, but I know there’s more to the truth.” You say, “I may not know what exactly happened, but Jackson’s death wasn’t your fault—either of your faults.”

“And how exactly do you know this?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that the pack is our only viable option at the moment, and I need you to trust me on this.”

Jaebeom sighs, “Good God—this is not happening.”

“I trust her.” Jinyoung answers without hesitation, reaching across the council to lay a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. “We have no reason not to, hyung.”

“And why the hell not?” To his dismay, Jaebeom shrugs away from Jinyoung’s touch. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you with my life.”

“Because I could have let Changbin kill you… but I didn’t.”

Jaebeom grows silent again. And although no words are said, Jinyoung knows—and knows that you know—that the conversation ended in your favor. Jaebeom may be a paranoid, narcissistic sociopath, but even he is capable of hope in the darkest of moments.

A sudden gasp disrupts the hushed atmosphere, resonating from beside Jinyoung a mere foot away. For the first time, he notices a third body propped in the seat next to him. The figure writhes and releases a set of whimpers before growing still once again.

“We have another issue.” Jaebeom murmurs darkly, “Changbin bit Tzuyu during our fight, and when I tried to heal her with my blood… it didn’t work.”

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean it didn’t work?”

“Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon that would have the power to kill you and Jaebeom—the only two invincible beings in existence.” Your explanation causes Jinyoung’s heart to sink, “His venom can’t be cured by Jaebeom’s blood, so…”

“So Tzuyu is going to die unless we find a cure.” Jaebeom finishes with a hum, “We better get to it fast cause the hallucinations are already starting.”

“The pack will help us.” You affirm. “I know they will.”

Jinyoung truly hopes that your confidence is well placed. Afterall, it is his, Jaebeom and Tzuyu’s lives all on the line.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do this.” Mark stresses, flipping through the grimoire with enough force to tear the pages. “This spell needs a lot of power—”

“Can’t you do what Youngjae does and channel something? Like a celestial event?”

Mark shakes his head. “Even that won’t be enough. I would have to channel the power unnaturally… through black magic.”

“It’s only one spell—what harm could it do?”

“Black magic is dark magic, Jack.” Mark directly addresses his werewolf companion, shaking his head even more feverishly. “It’s unpredictable… We could offset the balance of nature and—”

“I don’t give a shit about the balance of nature, Mark!” Jackson cuts in, “This may be our one and only chance to get rid of the Primes—to protect our town and the ones we love… Don’t you think that’s a little more important than upsetting the magic gods?...”

“You don’t understand—magic always comes with a price.” Mark says darkly, “I can’t trust what will happen if I use black magic… For fucksake, Jackson—I could kill you.”

Jackson places his hands on Mark’s shoulders, staring deep into the witch’s eyes. “I trust you with my life, Mark… and I know you won’t let me down.”

Mark debates with himself, attempting to find a solution past the chaos of his thoughts. His gut tells him it's a bad idea, but Jackson, his best friend, is telling him otherwise. He’s right—it is only one spell—and like he said, Jackson trusts him…

Mark just has to trust himself too.

“Alright.” He finally nods, “I won’t let you down… I promise.”

“Mark-hyung—Mark!”

At the call of his name, Mark’s mind springs from unconsciousness. His eyes snap open, discovering multiple familiar faces staring down at him. He releases a pained groan, just now recognizing the ache running through his entire body, before murmuring softly:

“What… happened?”

“How much do you remember?”

Mark attempts to pilfer through his memories, recalling his argument with Minho that resulted in the theft of his magic and the moments thereafter where said witch transformed Changbin into a super werewolf. He closes his eyes shut and leans back with a huff.

“How long have I been out?”

Youngjae hums, “At least a couple hours. Minho locked us in the old crypt after you passed out, so we really don’t have any sense of time.”

“Sounds fucking fantastic.” With a deep moan, Mark forces himself into a sitting position. His spine wails at the movement, but he pays it no mind and instead stretches his arms over his head in an attempt to work out the knots in his bones. He also takes the time to survey his surroundings, discovering, just as Youngjae said, to be inside the dingy, crumbling underground cavern beneath the mausoleum. He can’t remember the last time he’s been down here—how ironic.

“I’m guessing Changbin made a beeline for the Project Estate?”

“Didn’t even hesitate.” Youngjae answers, “You don’t think he got them… do you?”

“I honestly could care less about the Primes right now.” With Youngjae’s help, Mark manages to push himself to his feet before finding purchase against a stone pillar. He takes a second to catch his breath, then continues, “There’s an exit down here that leads into a bunch of old tunnels underneath the graveyard. If we can find it, there’s a chance we might—”

“I wouldn’t think about it, hyung.” Mark’s suggestion dies on his tongue as his favorite witch emerges from a dark corner. Beside him, Youngjae releases a surprised gasp while seeming to shrink in on himself. Mark, on the other hand, doesn’t budge.

“Enjoying this villain complex a little too much, don’t you think?”

“You don’t seem very happy with me, Mark-hyung…” Minho smirks.

“Okay—you’ve had your damn fun.” Mark sneers, “Let us all go before I really start to get pissed.”

“Like you can do anything about it anyway, without any magic and all—” The witch wiggles his finger in which the ancient ring still rests. “—and don’t worry. Once the blood moon fully passes, you’re all free to leave.”

“You’re a real fucking psycho, you know that? You really think Changbin is gonna manage to kill both Jaebeom and Jinyoung by himself?”

“I could care less if he does.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, “Why are you keeping us down here? What else could you possibly want?”

“Well, I want to make you suffer as much as possible… but that was already kind of obvious, don’t you think?”

“I’m serious, Minho!” Mark’s hiss echoes between the stone walls of the crypt, bouncing back in his ears like a record on repeat. “Why go to all this trouble to kill the Primes? To mess with me? Are you really that desperate for revenge? That you’d hurt your own people trying to get it?”

Minho shakes his head with a growl, “You all made it very clear that I was never a part of this coven.”

“That is such bullshit!” Mark peers over his shoulder to find Lia emerging from another part of the cavern, followed closely by a quivering, wild-eyed Jisung. “You just never got over the fact that we chose Mark as coven leader—not you!”

“At least I could have kept Nayeon alive!”

“Nayeon’s death wasn’t Mark’s fault! It wasn’t any of our faults!” Lia screams, “Why are you so strung up about this anyway!?”

“Because I loved her!” The atmosphere grows strangely tense at the young witch’s confession, effectively forming the beginnings of a large lump in Mark’s throat. That mass only grows as Minho continues on, “She was the only one who understood me! She believed in me when no one else would!”

Through the corner of his eye, Mark can see the same shock and pain spreading along Youngjae’s features as his own, as well as Jisung’s.

Lia’s expression, however, does not change. “I think you forget that all of us loved Nayeon—all of us are still grieving. It’s not just you.”

“You don’t understand—”

“Then make us understand for crying out loud!” Lia exclaims while throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You go on about all this bullshit that we never try to include you, when it’s you who never tries—it’s you who always pushes us away!

“We’re supposed to be a team—a family… We are all that’s left of this coven, and look at us now.”

Minho remains silent.

A single tear cascades down Lia’s cheek as she shakes her head. “Nayeon-unnie would be so disappointed… in all of us.”

At her words, Mark feels his heart practically sink into his stomach. He notices the blank expression etched across Minho’s face, wondering what could possibly be going through the young witch’s mind. For a moment, he has hope that Lia’s speech actually knocked some sense into him—that he’ll actually make amends and set them free.

But alas… he speaks too soon.

“Apné sà mene…” Mark immediately recognizes the incantation for a boundary spell, attempting to hurry toward the doorway in which Minho retreated towards. His chest smacks into an invisible barrier, sending his body sprawling back to the crypt floor. Both Youngjae and Lia rush to his side to help him back to his feet—a new pain lingering in his side.

He glares at the retreating witch with all his might.

“You’re gonna regret this.”

“Not as much as I regret ever looking up to you.” Minho waves his hand one final time, making sure to flash his ring, before disappearing up the staircase that leads out of the crypt. With a bitter taste in his mouth, Mark watches as he goes, continuing to do so until he hears the familiar sound of a closing door.

He turns to the trio. “Any chance one of you can break the boundary spell?”

“I might be able to siphon enough power from Lia and Jisung to take it down—” Youngjae shakes his head, “—but it will only be temporary. Maybe ten seconds or less?”

“That’s better than nothing.” Mark nods, “When Youngjae breaks it open, you guys will go through the passageways and head to the Wang Cabin to warn the wolf pack—”

“No.” Lia interrupts his explanation, “Minho will be able to sense our magical energy the minute we step foot out of the boundary. You, however, do not have any magic at the moment.”

“You need to warn the pack, hyung.” Youngjae agrees with a nod, “You’re the only one that can get out undetected.”

Mark feverishly shakes his head, “There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you three here. It’s not happening—”

“Don’t worry about us.” Lia says, “I have a plan to stop both Minho and Changbin.”

“What do you mean?”

“Minho bound Changbin’s power to his own in order to complete the transformation.” She explains, pointing up toward the ceiling. “Once the blood moon is over, Minho will no longer have the power to uphold the spell, so Changbin will no longer be able to remain in his enhanced form, which means…”

“Which means we have to stop the spell before the night ends.” Mark breathes, “Okay… How do we do that?”

“Youngjae can siphon Minho’s magic which should give us enough power to counteract the spell completely… that is, if we can get close enough.”

“Once Mark-hyung warns the pack, we’ll have more than enough backup to take him down.” Youngjae adds, “We need to do this now, before he comes back.”

Mark shakes his head again, “I don’t know about this—”

“We can do this. Trust us, Mark.”

Lia’s determined gaze strikes a chord deep within Mark’s chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so serious and resolute…

He’s never seen her look so much like a leader.

“Fine.” He reluctantly agrees, “Let’s do it.”

“Lia? Jisung?” At Youngjae’s call, both of the younger witches offer their hands for the siphoner to take. His own hands glow as he begins the counter incantation, gesturing for Mark to make his move with a nod of his head. Mark does as requested, carefully sliding past a crack in a nearby pillar to enter the secret passageway.

He spares one final glance at his coven mates, admiring the fierce passion along each of their features, before turning into the tunnel and becoming one with the shadows of the night.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Sometimes you forget life even existed before your time in Moon Dye Bay. Maybe it’s a result of your newfound interest in supernatural existence, or possibly due to the close relationships you’ve made throughout your stay. In the entirety of your time of living, you’ve never once called anywhere home, and while you still refuse to commit yourself to such a description, you can’t deny that this strange, little town has come pretty damn close.

Before you moved to Moon Dye, you lived in Chicago for about a year while finishing up your graduate work. Not quite in the city, but in a borderline rundown suburbia on the outskirts. There, you rented a decent condo for dirt cheap and found a well-paying, easy office job right down the street. It was every college student's greatest dream—until it wasn’t.

To this day, your mind still doesn’t recall the event as vividly as it should. Probably in an effort to ease the underlying trauma and fear. Even so, you don’t like to think back on it too much… Who would—when you’re the only survivor in a massacre of dozens of innocent people?

But even so, if it weren’t for that day, you would never have ended up in Moon Dye Bay… nor learned that fairy tale creatures aren’t quite fictional afterall.

You push the thought away to focus on pulling into the nonexistent driveway. The passenger beside you releases a rather loud groan as the car rocks back and forth, but you choose not to comment on his obvious distaste of your driving. You’re too exhausted… and frankly, you just don’t care at this point.

“You guys stay in the car.” You say while killing the engine and shrugging off your seatbelt, “I should talk to them first just in case, so try not to get yourselves in any more trouble while I’m gone.”

Jaebeom clicks his tongue, “Says the one who can’t seem to go one day without being attacked.”

“Hyung—” Jinyoung goes to scold his brother, but your voice beats him to it.

“Last I checked, it was your girlfriend, your proxy vampire minion, and, surprise, surprise, you who have all tried to turn me into a human blood bag.” You exit the car before throwing one final glare at the hybrid, “Keep treating me like some sort of liability, and the next time someone tries to kill your pompous ass, I won’t be so kind as to save your fucking life.”

With that, you shove the vehicle door shut with a little more force than necessary and storm toward the cabin, attempting to push the annoyance from mind. You wouldn’t usually waste your breath on something like Jaebeom’s pettiness, but with the combination of the stress of the current situation and fear for everyone’s lives at stakes, you really don’t want to deal with the hybrid’s need to make you feel like the dumbest person on the planet.

You eventually reach the front door, lifting a hand to knock at the wooden surface. The ominous silence of the nighttime tugs at your nerves as you wait—hopefully one of the wolves is actually up at this hour… maybe you should have called beforehand?

As each minute passes, your patience grows thinner and thinner. Even after another series of rather obnoxious knocks, no one opens the door. You debate returning to the car and discussing a Plan B with your undead squad, but decide to check the backyard first. Maybe the pack is having some sort of late night bonfire…?

You carefully navigate your way around the cabin, using the light of your cellphone as a guide through the darkness. Minus catching your toe on a loose board in the decking, you manage to make it to the back of the cabin unscathed. However, the sight that you find is definitely far from that of the bonfire:

From what little you can see, the yard is completely trashed. Picnic tables lay in splintered halves while other pieces of furniture are either smashed to smithereens or tossed to the side. Even Dahyun’s clothesline is no longer standing, and is instead strewn carelessly across the grass along with its collection of unfolded laundry. A particular sweatshirt catches your attention, appearing somewhat dirty in the minimal light. Once you’re close enough, you take the garment in your own two hands to better identify the mysterious stains… and you almost wish you hadn’t seen it in the first place when the realization settles in your head:

A large splotch of fresh blood is decorated across the fabric like an unfinished painting.

“Shit…” You curse, searching the area for any other possible clues of the pack’s whereabouts. Near the edge of the pond, you discover what seems to be an array of footprints in the mud, leading into the black of the quiet forest. There are multiple sets, you find, and you hope they all belong to the werewolves in question…

You know you should return to the car and report your findings to Jaebeom and Jinyoung, but something in your gut tells you that someone is in trouble.

Before you can dwell on the cons, you push forward into the woods, following the muddy footprints as best as you possibly can. Between pushing away mischievous branches and stepping over lazy logs, you’re almost reminded of the path you traversed before you met with Mina… You can only hope the events that follow this time aren’t as horrific.

“Yugyeom!...” You call softly, trying not to mistake each tree trunk as the silhouette of a person. “Bang Chan!... Anyone out here!?...”

The screech of the nightly breeze is your response. You eventually lose the footprint trail, unable to base your path off of anything but intuition. Your desire to turn back is strong, but you’ve come this far… and you doubt you’ll even be able to find your way back to the cabin at this point.

Your body tenses as a high-pitched wail enters your ears—a wail that sounds oddly similar to that of a human. Against the siren in your head screaming red flags, you head in the direction in which the noise came from. The silence pesters you as you go, practically electrifying your nerves from the inside out.

Out of nowhere, your foot catches some kind of large branch or rock, sending your body sprawling toward the earth with a loud gasp. You manage to break your fall with your arms, ignoring the gentle ache in your wrists, and scramble to grab the phone you dropped on the way down. Your anxiety is practically through the roof by the time the device is back in your grasp, but you muster up the courage and move to continue your search. However, the reveal of something that looks oddly like a human limb freezes your muscles.

It wasn’t a branch you tripped over… it was a leg.

“(Y/N)...”

It takes you a moment to identify the voice between the shock and fear, but all at once, your uneasiness shifts to concern.

“D… Dahyun!?”

After moving your light for a better view, you discover the female wolf slumped against a tree and covered head to toe in what seems to be a combination of blood and sticky mud. Her clothes are practically stained crimson, which you quickly realize is the result of the large jagged rock protruding from her abdomen.

“Holy shit… What happened to you?” You drop to her level to better assess her condition. There are more wounds embedded across her arms and chest—wounds that resemble claw marks…

“It was Changbin…” Your heart practically plummets to your stomach at her revelation. Dahyun pauses to cough—a couple projectiles of blood spewing from her lips—before continuing, “He attacked the pack… but he—he was different… Super strong and super fast and—and… It’s almost like he was—”

“Upgraded.” You finish, “Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon to kill Jaebeom and Jinyoung—the same spell Mark tried to use on Jackson.”

“It was more than that, (Y/N)...” She shakes her head, “Changbin wasn’t… wasn’t like himself…”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a monster…” You allow the wolf to grab your hand, ignoring the sticky feel of her blood against your skin. “I don’t—I don’t even know if anyone else is still alive… I don’t—I mean, I can’t—”

“Shhh.” You hum gently, reaching up to push away the hair melded to her sweaty forehead. Dahyun somewhat calms at your touch, but just from the wild expression along her features, you can tell the poor girl is scared out of her fucking mind.

“We’ll deal with that later, but right now, I need to get you out of here—”

You don’t have the chance to finish your sentence before she’s practically lurching away from you.

“No! You’re the one who needs to leave!”

“Dahyun—”

“He will kill you, (Y/N)!” She hiccups, “You need to run before he finds you!”

“I’m not just going to leave you here to bleed out—”

“She’s right.” You whirl around at the new voice, and to your surprise, discover a disheveled Yugyeom emerging from the darkness. Similar to the female wolf, gaping claw-marks decorate his face, chest and lower abdomen. His arm also seems to be broken and his knee badly dislocated—you can almost see the bone peeking out of his skin.

You hurry to catch the wolf before he collapses, carefully lowering him to lean against the same tree Dahyun is propped against. A pained wheeze passes his lips, but his expression remains as stoic and as determined as ever.

“If you care about your life, then you’ll run.”

“And if I care about yours and Dahyun’s lives?”

“We’re already as good as dead.”

“No—” You shake your head feverishly, “—I refuse to let you throw yourself to the big bad wolf like some fucking martyr, so you either start moving or I’ll drag you by the skin of your teeth.”

Yugyeom’s expression softens. “You sound like Jackson-hyung…”

If it were any other situation, you would have allowed yourself the time to respond to the newcomer’s comparison… but you’d rather not stay and risk the chance of encountering any more surprises.

“C’mon.” You carefully throw Dahyun’s arm over your shoulder, mindful not to push the rock deeper into her abdomen. Once you’re sure she won’t buckle back to the forest floor, you offer your free hand to the third party. “None of us are dying tonight.”

A familiar, malicious chuckle has your limbs growing numb.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Like a creature of the night, a smirking Changbin saunters into view. His clothes are torn and tarnished with blood, yet there’s no trace of injury along his skin. With the little light you have, you can just barely make out the black veins decorating underneath his eyes—the magic is already starting to consume him.

“Listen to me…” You murmur cautiously, maneuvering your body so Dahyun is safe behind and out of reach. “You’re under the effects of dark magic, okay? You’re not yourself—”

“I’ve never felt more like myself than I have now.” Your eyes dart around the area as Changbin leers closer and closer, attempting to find something sharp or heavy enough to knock him out. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any tea mugs or large branches in sight—

“I don’t want to hurt you, Changbin…”

“Really? Cause I sure want to hurt you…” He smiles devishly, “In fact, I’m just dying to rip out your fucking throat after that bullshit stunt you pulled back at the manor—”

“Leave her out of this, Bin.” Yugyeom hisses, clutching his chest while keeping himself supported against the tree. “If you have a problem, then take it out on me… Not her.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll get to you next, hyung.” Changbin suddenly approaches, providing you no preparation as he snatches your wrist and pulls. With the little strength she has left, Dahyun attempts to defend you, landing a couple heavy hits against the attacker’s head. However, it only takes a good shove to send her flying to the ground—leaving you helpless in the arms of the beast.

You try to throw your own punches, but Changbin is both stronger and faster by miles. In the blink of an eye, he has your figure pinned to the ground with a calloused hand around your throat. Your lungs immediately go into a frenzy as the superwolf cuts off your oxygen supply. You claw at his fingers, breaking skin and fighting for breath, but his grip remains as firm as steel.

“…Think of…” You choke—your eyes beginning to roll to the back of your head. “…J-Jack…son…”

“What the fuck did you say—!?”

A loud bang erupts through the area, drowning out Changbin’s demand. Through the dark spots of your vision, you notice a gaping hole in the center of his throat. Another bang sounds, and this time, his head is blown to shreds of brain matter and skull. His grip immediately loosens, permitting your intake of oxygen once more. You quickly scramble away from the now unmoving corpse, gasping for air and clutching your swollen neck.

You’re almost glad it’s dark, so you can’t see the extent to which Changbin’s head had been mutilated.

Your ears are still vibrating when someone takes your shoulders.

“Jinyoung…?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No—no… I’m fine.” You allow the vampire to help you back to your feet. “Is… he?”

“For now.” Jinyoung hums, leading you into a nearby circle of light. To your surprise, you discover Mark carrying Dahyun with one arm and supporting Yugyeom with the other—a large shotgun splayed along his back. “Mark is a remarkable shot… I don’t think you wish to see, but Changbin won’t be bothering us for at least a couple hours.”

You release a sigh of relief. “Great… But now what?”

“Yugyeom says the rest of the pack is holed up in a secret bunker deeper into the forest.” Mark speaks for the first time, “We should head there… We all need to talk.”

“There’s no time like the present.” Jaebeom pipes up, emerging from the shadows with an unconscious Tzuyu in his arms. “I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to be here when this guy wakes up…”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jackson is floating, aimlessly traveling through a white fog in which reality doesn’t quite reach. The Other Side is funny like that—Jackson doesn’t exist in the eyes of nature, therefore, when he’s not visiting the land of the living, he’s merely suspended in a state of nonexistence with nothing but the company of his own thoughts. He’ll spot the spirit of a fellow supernatural every so often, but even then… he’s completely alone.

Until he found you.

A wave of fondness spreads through Jackson’s veins—as if he had drunk a comforting cup of hot tea. In all the time he’s spent in the neverending nothingness, he never once thought he’d be able to feel again… but like a firework in the black of night, you sparked every bit of hope and passion and liveliness lingering within his mortal spirit. Maybe it was your determination that reminded him of his past self, or maybe it was your eyes—so bright with the stars of mortality—that made Jackson want to live again, to experience the warmth of your smile and the chill of your gaze in the depths of a true beating heart.

Something about you just makes him feel so… human.

Jackson snickers to himself before peering over his shoulder, having previously noticed some kind of blurred silhouette in the distance. It’s too far to tell, but he can just barely make out the approaching shape of another spirit—likely a newly deceased supernatural. He prepares to retire back to his thoughts, but is, however, interrupted when an ice-cold feeling overtakes the entirety of his being. Jackson freezes, both from the cold and his realization:

The witches know about his plan… and they’re not happy about it.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“—so once Youngjae siphons Minho’s power, he’ll be able to reverse the spell and turn Changbin back to normal.” Jaebeom keeps his focus on the witch as he relays his explanation to the many other audience members scattered around the bunker. He never thought the day would come where he would actually be working in tandem with Mark Tuan, the motherfucking magician himself, but here he is—

“What if Youngjae can’t perform the spell in time?” The pack’s beta, Yugyeom speaks up from his seat at a small, cardboard table stationed in the tiny kitchenette. He stretches his newly healed knee out in front of him before sparing Mark an inquisitive glance, “What happens then?”

“Minho’s power is the only anchor keeping Changbin alive, most of which he's drawing from the eclipse. Once that power runs out, then Changbin’s form will give out, which means—”

“He’ll die.” Dahyun finishes, pacing from one end of the underground shelter to the other. If it weren’t for the blood stains on her clothing and the large bandage encompassing her exposed abdomen, it would be impossible to tell she had been stabbed only minutes ago.

Being a werewolf certainly does pay off.

Mark nods, “Yes.”

“How long do we have then? Roughly?”

“‘Til the moon goes down, so about an hour and a half. Two hours at the most.”

“Shit.” She curses, “We’re so fucking screwed.”

“Let’s not jump to the worst of all evils so quickly.” Jaebeom fights the urge to roll his eyes as his brother, always the hero, appears from the next room before assuming his perch beside your sitting figure. He hands you an ice pack while still speaking to Mark, “You’re certain Youngjae will have enough strength to disarm the witch?”

“Not really, but it’s the only option at this point.”

“While this pathetic excuse of a plan is super great and all, there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room.” Ignoring the harsh glare the witch sends his way, Jaebeom continues, “There’s a cure for werewolf wonder’s bite, right? Some sort of witchy antidote or spell—?”

“As sorry as I am for your vampire girlfriend, I never thought of a cure when I designed the spell.” Mark’s eyes flash with something akin to resentment, spilling amusement through Jaebeom’s veins like a toxin. “When I want something—someone dead, I want them to stay dead.”

Jaebeom snorts. “Still the same punk ass kid you’ve always been, Tuan… It’s nice to see that nothing’s changed.”

“You’re a fucking prick—”

“Mark-hyung. Don’t.” Yugyeom places a calming hand on Mark’s shoulder, stopping him from storming over to where Jaebeom is currently smirking like a fool. The wolf glances at the latter before shaking his head, “We have bigger things than petty rivalries to worry about.”

To Jaebeom’s disappointment, Mark agrees with a sigh.

“Right… It’s just been a real shitty night.”

“For all of us, it’s safe to say.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the warning look his brother sends his way, shaking his head scoldingly before turning to the witch-werewolf pair. “Could Changbin’s blood possibly reverse the venom’s effects? Similar to Jaebeom?”

Mark shakes his head, “Changbin isn’t a hybrid like your asshole of a brother. His blood has no healing properties whatsoever—”

“But there has to be something.” Your voice immediately cuts the former off, allowing Jaebeom some time to suppress the urge to fly across the room and tear the witch’s tongue from his mouth. “Youngjae once told me that magic always has a loophole, so a cure has to exist—we just have to figure out what it is.”

“I admire your positivity, little dove, but we don’t exactly have the time for trial and error.” Jaebeom peers over his shoulder at a sleeping Tzuyu—who is still showing no signs of possible consciousness or life in general. Her skin is flushed and sweaty with fever, but he can sense how her limbs tremble beneath the poison coursing through her veins. His chest tightens for a moment, only until he returns his focus back onto the conversation at hand:

“Minho might have an idea, but it’s a long shot.” Mark exhales, “Once we take him down, there’s no guarantee he’d tell us—if there is a cure, that is—and with the combined effects of your and Changbin’s venom, I have no clue how long your girlfriend has until—”

A sudden clatter has everyone leaping from their seats. Yugyeom flies to the bunker door in mere seconds while Mark snatches his shotgun from the kitchen counter behind him. Through the corner of his eye, Jaebeom notices Jinyoung usher you behind his form before pressing a small pocket knife between your fingers. The blossoming of the black bruises along your throat sparks rancor through the hybrid’s veins, and he readies himself into his own fighting stance.

“Yugyeom!?... Are you in there!?”

Yugyeom’s hostile expression transitions into one of relief—the tension melting from his body like snow. Although the voice is apparently familiar to the rest, Jaebeom remains tense as the beta goes about unlocking the bunker door. He almost expects a cackling Changbin to come bursting through the trapdoor, but is pleasantly surprised when a new figure comes into view—another limp body thrown precariously over his shoulder.

“Oh my god! Chan—Felix!” Dahyun immediately rushes toward the pair. Her gaze practically alive with fear. “Holy shit—is he alive!?”

The newcomer, who Jaebeom assumes to be Chan, sets down the teenager, presumably Felix, on one of the bunk beds with the help of Yugyeom and Mark. He catches Jinyoung helping a third figure, a teenage girl who can’t be over eighteen, into the bunker as well. Judging by her glassy irises and quivering lips, she seems as if she is going to burst into tears at the drop of a thimble. The group’s collective ragged appearance, Jaebeom knows, signifies the aftermath of one hell of a fight.

“What the hell happened out there, Chan!?” Yugyeom’s demand awakens the hybrid from his trance, forcing him to return his focus to the newcomer.

“H-He found us…” Chan murmurs darkly, “I… I tried to protect them… but he was too strong…”

“How is that possible?” Jaebeom frowns. “Sabrina the Witch over here blew his fucking head off—”

“They had to have been attacked before then.” Jinyoung places a calming hand on his shoulder, which he is quick to shake off.

The strange werewolf nods in agreement, “We took our time to get here—didn’t want to risk running into him again…”

“Wait…” The room grows hushed at Dahyun’s exclamation. When Jaebeom turns toward the female wolf, his annoyance falters at the panicked expression etched along her pretty features. “Where the hell is Chaeyoung…?”

Chan remains silent and still, like a boy fresh out of war, but Jaebeom has witnessed enough in his many lifetimes to see the answer written all along his face.

Yugyeom stands. His expression grim, almost sorrowful, as if he already knows too.

“Bang Chan… Where is Chaeyoung?”

“…she’s dead…” His whisper is barely audible, yet the hybrid can see how deeply those two words wound the crowd around him. “…bled out… there was nothing I could do…”

“Fuck…” Dahyun shivers before burying her face into her palms and letting out an even louder curse, “Fuck!...”

“I’m so sorry…”

Your soft voice carries over the female wolf’s sobs. Fascinated, Jaebeom watches as you maneuver your way across the bunker to kneel in front of a now sitting Bang Chan. You take his trembling hands between your own and peer up at the wolf with the most sympathetic gaze he has ever seen—his own heart can’t help but lurch at the sight.

“I hate to add to the list, but we have another issue—” Mark groans, pulling his hand away from the incapacitated teenager’s neck to press it against his own perspirating forehead. “—Felix was bitten…”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“Dahyun—please.” Yugyeom sighs, “I just—shit.”

“We need to find that cure. Now.” Jinyoung steps forward, turning to speak directly to Mark. “I will go to the graveyard to assist your coven. With my help, it should be fairly simple to disarm the rogue.”

“Don’t underestimate him. You’re still gonna have to put up a damn good fight.”

“I can well manage on my own.”

Jaebeom shakes his head with a sneer, “I seriously doubt that, considering you got yourself poisoned the last time you played goddamn Superman.”

As much as Jinyoung puts up the invincible front, Jaebeom has known his brother for a long, long time—and also knows that the previous encounter with the superwolf left him much weaker than before. He can see it in the trembling of his hands and the pained lines etched along his forehead. He’ll get himself killed long before he reaches the graveyard.

“Jaebeom should go too.” You rise from your kneeling position to join the group. “Two pairs of hands are better than one. You can protect each other.”

“Absolutely not.” Jinyoung disagrees, “Jaebeom needs to remain here in case Changbin resurrects again.”

“We don’t have the time to worry about that. The witches will need all the help they can get.”

Jaebeom scoffs, “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but (Y/N) is right. We don’t know what we’re up against—better for us both to be there than just the one.”

Jinyoung stares at Jaebeom for a brief moment, as if searching his face for some hidden secret, before inhaling a deep, yet silent breath and finally nodding, “Fine. But if Changbin attacks—”

“We’ll handle it.” Yugyeom nods, “Thank you… for doing this.”

“We all have something to lose.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the glance Jinyoung sends in your direction before making his way over to the bunker exit. “I just wish to make sure that no one else dies.” The last bout of final farewells are shared along with the reminder for everyone to remain on their best guard. In an attempt to follow his brother, Jaebeom moves to climb the ladder, but is stopped by the call of his name:

“Jaebeom, wait!...” He pauses—his interest piquing as you rush toward his temporary perch. Your gaze is shy, he notices, but still contains the fire of a thousand burning suns. “Just… be careful out there, okay?”

His response is indifferent. “Not to worry, little dove. I’ll make sure Jinyoung returns to you in one piece.”

“Promise me you both will return in one piece, please…”

Jaebeom’s annoyance immediately dissipates at the stressed enunciation of your words. His cold expression melts into a mixture of surprise and astonishment, mirroring the conflict brewing throughout his chest. He clears his throat, attempting to expel the emotions creeping up his back, before nodding:

“Y-Yeah, sure.” He gulps, “Can you… take care of Tzuyu? While I’m gone?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course. Just please stay alive.”

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, untrusting that his words will make sense if said aloud. After providing you a silent farewell, he climbs the rest of the way out of the bunker where Jinyoung is waiting. His brother offers a pointed glance when he completely exits the safety of the bunker.

“I trust you’re ready for this, hyung?”

“Let’s get this shit over with.” Jaebeom rolls his eyes, “I’m getting real tired of running from Teenage Chewbacca.”

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Safe Haven

Hey guys! So a little backstory for this imagine, I randomly had a dream about this scenario with EZ and as soon as I woke up I was like “I gotta write that!” so here we are! Also just want to add how I really miss Mayans MC and my bois and I can’t wait for season 3 to come out🥰! Okay that’s pretty much it other than I hope you guys like it and sorry if it’s long or doesn’t flow well (I feel like it kinda seems rushed and towards the end doesn’t sound the best, but then again that might just be me being overly critical of myself 🤷🏽‍♀️ lol).

Pairing: EZ ReyesxBlack Reader

⚠️: Bit of angst, mentions of blood (very tiny), fluff mixed in throughout though

Sunlight beaming down from the small window above your bed, EZ slowly opens his eyes to see your still figure lying next to him. Hand placed just below his newest tattoo marking the birth of your son and leg draped over his, he gently brings you closer taking in the coconut scent of your lotion still radiating off your skin from last night.

Living a life like his, rarely could he experience peaceful mornings just lying down hearing the birds chirp outside, so he made sure to appreciate every second of it that he could.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?! YOU THINK IM THAT DUMB TO NOT KNOW YOU’RE LYING?!??!!”

Barely muffled shouting from your neighbors coming through the walls, EZ rolls his eyes with a soft groan while you begin to wake up.

“They’re arguing again?,” you groggily ask rubbing your eyes as a yawn slips from your mouth.

“Yea they just started.”

“Well, it could be worse. They could’ve started at one in the morning like last time,” you softly laugh grazing your thumb along his cheekbone. Taking your hand in his, he kisses your knuckles before leaning down to give the same attention to your pouted lips. Slightly calloused yet soft hand gripping your thigh, you push against his chest separating his lips from yours.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“You know exactly what,” you smirk. “Today we’re supposed to go get more diapers for Omari and more food for my fridge since someone and his brother keep eating everything.”

“That’s all on Angel, I know how to limit myself. And your leg was draped over me so really I should be the one telling you don’t start,” he chuckles kissing your jaw as you stick your tongue out at him. Sitting up, you carefully step over him to make your way to the bathroom.

“Whatever, I can’t help how I sleep Ezekiel.” Closing the door behind you, a wide smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head. While the use of his full name was only reserved for his father and brother, the way it rolled off your tongue made him want to hear you say it all day.

Swinging his legs over the side, he stretches before hearing the soft cries of his eight month old son in the other room. Quickly putting on his white tank and boots, his long legs guide him to the wooden crib in the next room. Tiny arms reaching between the bars, he carefully lifts him up to bounce him in his arms.

“Hey man, annoying neighbors woke you up too huh?” Reaching in his crib, he removes an older looking stuffed bunny with different sized buttons for eyes and a random patterned patch sewn on its belly. “Look what I got.”

Calming down, his hands roam around it’s face fixated on the black point that was its nose. “That patch was because your uncle Angel decided to keep throwing him at the ceiling fan seeing if he would stay on the blade. Don’t ever let him play with your toys ok?,” he smiles kissing the top of his head.

Like every event in his life, he could vividly remember everything that happened that day. Him begging Angel to stop. His hard headed older brother not listening until cotton fell from above. His mother calming him down insisting how it could be fixed as she smoothed his dark hair before kissing his forehead.

It may sound weird, but every time he saw that bunny he felt his mom’s presence as if he was back to that day sitting in her lap watching as she sewed his friend back together. That’s one reason why he wanted his son to have it, so his abuela would be with him.

Hearing your footsteps, he looks up to see you suspiciously looking towards the door instantly making him worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just thought I heard someone stop in front of the door,” you answer taking one last glance towards the front of your apartment. “It’s nothing though, they probably just paused for a second.”

Handing Omari to you, he approaches the door looking out the peephole before opening it to peak outside making sure no one was hanging around.

“Something like that happens again and I’m not here, call me.”

“I doubt-,”

“I’m serious Y/N.” Locking the door behind him he walks up to you and your babbling son peering down with dark brown eyes that were stern enough to know he meant business, yet still displayed their usual softness showing it was out of love for you and Omari that he was being so protective.

“Okay,” you answer; soon after feeling his beard brush against your skin as he pecks your lips.

———

“Ready to go to the park love?”

Bringing the diaper bag higher on your opposite shoulder, you balance your baby boy on your hip as you lock your door. Just as you turn around, you’re faced with three men patiently waiting while two of them intensely looked at you and your son. The tall, slender one in the middle, clad in a grey suit, displayed a small smile trying to appear friendly, but mostly seemed awkward as if he wasn’t used to that emotion.

“Hello, my name is Lincoln Potter and these are a couple of my associates. We’re looking for a man by the name Ezekiel Reyes, or EZ, as some call him. We have a couple witness accounts on seeing him in the area so we’re asking around for more possible information.” Holding up a candid picture of him on his bike outside his dad’s carneteria, you lightly bounce Omari hoping to distort his view so he wouldn’t possibly recognize his father.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

“Well it doesn’t have to be around here. Have you seen him anywhere else? In town perhaps?”

“No, nowhere else,” you answer showing no emotion. While this was your first physical interaction with Potter, you were definitely familiar with the attorney. A few times while you were at EZ’s trailer he’d have to step away to answer his call or meet him in some secluded location. It was then you saw how much of a pain he could be to any target he had his sights on.

Looking at you for a few seconds his mouth parts as if he had more to say, but instead the awkward smile returns as he hands you his card.

“If you do happen to see him, please call. He’s needed for...very important matters.” Taking the card from his hand, he gazes down to Omari innocently nibbling on his fingers. Black coils on the top of his head shifting from the light breeze, his dark eyes finally meet Potter’s crystal blue ones causing a low chuckle to escape the man’s lips.

“Might I add you have a beautiful son. His father is very lucky to have such a beautiful family.”

Through his compliment you could feel a sense of iciness laced within. Like he knew what information you were keeping from him and was 10 steps ahead of your two.

Politely nodding your head as a soft “thank you” leaves your mouth, you walk by the three men feeling eyes on your back. After buckling your son in his car seat, you move to the drivers side quickly closing the door behind you before resting your head on the steering wheel to take a deep breath.

“Mama,” Omari whines lightly kicking his feet wanting the car to move.

“I know we’re going baby boy just give mommy a second.” Dialing EZ’s number, you pull out of the parking lot onto the busy street anxiously waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, you okay?,” he asks, deep voice full of concern and worry.

“Um well yes and no....it’s Potter.”

———

Sat on the floor watching your little boy laugh as he plays with his interactive animal book, you occasionally look out the window anxiously waiting to see EZ and Angel arrive any minute. After telling him what happened, he instructed you to meet him at the clubhouse where he’d take you to his dad’s just in case you were being followed.

Dropping you both off, he didn’t say much as he walked you into the small house. Kissing Omari’s cheek and then your lips, he quickly left again with his brother instantly making you worried. Knowing what was going on, Felipe tried to get your mind off things by offering you food and getting you to talk about yourself or Omari, which worked but not for long.

Now over three hours later, it was dark outside and neither you nor Felipe had heard anything from the brothers.

Motorcycles humming outside, you peer out the window to see Angel and EZ slowly making their way to the front of the house causing you to sigh in relief. However, your worries quickly returned seeing both tiredly trudge through the front door and the front of EZ’s grey shirt crimson with blood.

“What happened?!,” you ask rushing to examine him for any other injuries.

“Calm down, it’s not mine,” he answers bringing your hands to his lips with a small smile. “Just had to save this one as always.”

“Save me? Pretty sure that’s not how it went at all but ok. And I’m good too, thanks for asking.” Shaking his head Angel picks up your son before sitting down on the couch and flipping through the channels on the outdated tv. “You care about your tio don’t you man?”

Little hands pulling his hair as he giggles, Angel lets out a small yelp trying to loosen his strong grip.

“Omari be nice,” you laugh before returning your attention back to your boyfriend. “Here, let me help you clean up.” Leading him to the bathroom, you close the door behind you as he removes his leather vest and shirt before sitting on the toilet.

“Try not to cry this time alright?”

“Psh, whatever,” he lightly chuckles resting his large hands on the back of your legs. A comfortable silence falls over you while you stand between his legs carefully cleaning the blood from his scars. Although you had grown used to these moments being with him for a while now, that still didn’t take away the ache you always felt seeing him hurt.

“You and Omari might want to stay with your mom for a while,” he speaks just above a whisper.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? You saw what happened today Y/N, I don’t want you guys hanging around for it to happen again.”

“If it happens again,” you correct making him roll his eyes as he stands up.

“Now’s not the time to be naive, I’m driving you tomorrow. Your stuff is already packed waiting at the trailer.” Reaching for the door, you stand in his way planting yourself against the worn looking wood with arms crossed over your chest.

“Last time I checked, you’re Omari’s father not mine.”

“Y/N move.”

“No. I’m not afraid of Potter or the men under him, he’s all talk.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because if he really wanted to do something he would’ve done it then and there. I mean think about it they had me at my most vulnerable state with no where to go and no way to defend myself,” you explain receiving an exasperated sigh from EZ as his hand rubs down his face.

“It was a warning. Yea they didn’t do anything when they could’ve, but they wanted to scare you into telling them what they wanted to know and intimidate both of us with what they could do.”

“Well it didn’t work,” you reply guiding his chin to look at you. “Ezekiel I knew what I was getting into when we started talking and I’m still here. If it ever gets to the point where I don’t feel safe or fear for our son’s safety then we’ll leave, but until then I’m not letting Potter get to me. Plus do you think it would be easy for us to just leave after all this time?”

Placing both hands on either side of your head, he slightly bends down leaving his face inches from yours. “I’m not saying it would be easy, but if it needs to be done then that’s it bellita.”

“And when it needs to be done it will be.” Connecting your lips with his, your hands roam from his bare chest to the nape of his neck while his wrap around your body bringing you closer.

“We’re gonna need to put you in a new apartment too,” he says separating his lips from yours as his fingers graze up and down your spine.

“Hopefully your dad is okay with me staying here for a while longer then.”

“Here? What about the trailer?”

“I think the constant revving of motorcycles and occasional parties might not be ideal for a baby to be around.”

“True, you’re probably right,” you both laugh before being interrupted by loud knocking.

“Aye I hate to interrupt your probably intimate moment in there, but your kid is hungry and I’m not sure if it’s for what I can give him or what only mom can,” Angel explains as Omari fusses in his arms. “Relax man I’m trying to get her out here.”

“I’m gonna shower, you better go ahead before he starts pulling his hair again,” he smiles kissing your temple.

Opening the door, you carefully take Omari from his hands tickling under his chin to make him laugh. “Okay my baby lets get you fed.”

“The amount of strength he has that’s not a baby, that’s a tiny grown man,” Angel adds making you laugh.

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#ez reyes #ez x reader #ez x blackreader #ez x woc #mayans mc

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armywriter2605 · 4 years

Text

Theirs- Chapter 7 - OT7 x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU! BTS; Yandere AU! BTS; Angst; Fluff; Smut; OT7 x Reader

Rating: 18+

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Warnings: Cursing; Mature Content ; Mentions of abuse and bullying; Yandere BTS; Gore; Stalking; Gore scenes; more to be added throughout the series

Words: 4.9k +

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Masterlist

Tag List :

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GIF NOT MINE

Credits to the GIF

As soon as Hoseok’s voice filled the apartment, the three of you stopped breathing. You could see the panic filled eyes of Jungkook staring at Taehyung as both of them contemplated on what to do. They were dead meat; they knew that much.

“Munchkin, why’re you so quiet? We’re he-” You looked up to the door once you saw it open, Jimin standing at the doorway his eyes on you. It wasn’t long until all the others stood next to him at the doorway of your own bedroom. It was so quiet that if a drop of your sweat fell on the floor, it would be heard.

“Jungkook, Taehyung. Tell me, what is going on here? Why is Y/N, my innocent princess, looking like this? What in all worlds did you two do?” Jin’s voice was low and if looks could kill, the two male standing next to you would be dead by now. It was the first time you actually saw Jin as upset as he was now. He usually kept calm during every situation. This was a new one for you.

“I…Hyung, Taehyung started it!! I only went along with it, but it was all his own doing!” You heard Jungkook say hurriedly as he kneeled down on the floor. He was throwing his own hyung under the bus. You giggled at the situation going on. Who knew this could happen?

“WHAT? No! Not true! It wasn’t me, hyung!”

“Really? We were gone for 3 hours, Taehyungie. And I do remember you saying that you wanted Y/N’s affection as well.” Jimin said as he stepped forward, his eyes on Taehyung who was now kneeled down next to the maknae.

“Y/N seduced us!! We couldn’t say no to her. But it was her, right Jungkookie?” Taehyung said as he elbowed the younger who nodded his head. You gasped as now all eyes were on you. What was this? How could they be putting the blame on you? You stared at Taehyung and Jungkook who mouthed a sorry before they looked at the ground, small smiles on their faces.

You knew the others wouldn’t get angry at you, but it was still annoying to have to get out of this embarrassing situation.

“Is that cum dripping down her hand?” Namjoon’s voice filled the room, staring at the hand that was yet to be cleaned. Taehyung got up as fast as lighting and grabbed the towel from Jungkook, cleaning your hand as fast as he could. He quickly got down on his knees again, bowing his head. If this weren’t so embarrassing, you’d be laughing your ass off right now.

“Cum? No. I don’t see such sinful thing on the innocent body of our baby.”

“Get cleaned, Y/N. We know it wasn’t you. Taehyung and Jungkook will get punished for not being able to hold it in their pants.” Hoseok said before you heard Yoongi let out a loud sigh as he turned around and left the room, giving you a last glance. His face was emotionless, but you knew there was something going on in his mind. His eyes gave it all away.

“But hyung! It wasn’t just us! This is so not fai-” Jungkook’s voice was interrupted as Jimin his head with a stack of papers.

“You still want to complain? Huh? You have the fun all for yourselves and still complain?” He said as he hit the younger males on the head back and forth. You giggled as you got up, heading to the bathroom. So, they weren’t mad for what had happened, but because they hadn’t been a part of it. That was cute.

As you were about to close the door to the bathroom, a foot stopped you from doing so. You were now face to face with Namjoon. He held a smirk on his face, as he got closer to you. “Baby girl, you might’ve not started it but you’re no angel in this. You were clearly enjoying the scolding Jungkookie and Taehyungie were getting. Next time you decide to be so naughty, I’ll have to punish you myself. And let me tell you, I’m not as kind as Taehyung and Jungkook.” Namjoon said as he closed the space between you two, kissing your lips. All you could do was nod your head as the male left the bathroom after giving your ass-cheeks a firm squeeze.

LATER THAT DAY

You and the boys were sitting around the dinner table, eating while you talked. It was a pleasant atmosphere and you were enjoying it very much until the thoughts of their job came to mind again. They left this morning, where did they go? What did they do?

“What’s troubling that mind of yours, angel?” Hoseok asked as he noticed how you were frowning over something.

“It’s just…If this is going to work, then no more secrets. I wish to know what you do. What you did today and what you are going to do tomorrow and in the future. I don’t want to be held in the dark anymore, please.” Your voice wasn’t loud or demanding, but calm. You wished for things to work out, but you needed to know more.

As you were lost in thoughts once again, the boys stared at you smiling widely. They didn’t wish and wouldn’t let you know everything. It was a dangerous world, but the fact that you wanted your relationship to work out pleased them.

Namjoon awkwardly fake coughed to get you out of your thoughts as Jin and Jimin who sat both next to you, held your hands and intertwined their fingers with yours.

“We went to take care of the guy who disrespected you in our club and some other… stuff. He needed to be dealt with, love. It wasn’t anything much honestly and before you ask, no he isn’t dead.” Yoongi said as he poured himself some wine and gave you a small smile before finishing his food.

“Unfortunately, he isn’t no.” Jungkook scuffed as he too finished his dinner.

You nodded your head at them and looked down at your plate before looking up at them again. They did so much for you that you were barely aware of any of it. How could you not have realized everything they did? Were you really that blind? Did they cross all lines and boundaries for your safety and happiness?

“I love you all so much.” You said before putting a piece of meat to your mouth. At your words, all the boys either chocked on their foods and drinks or stopped chewing all together. As you finished chewing and stared at the boys, they all smiled at you and were about to reply until your phone started ringing from the bathroom where you had left it earlier.

“I’ll get it!” Jungkook said as he stood up from his seat and jogged to the bathroom. He got your phone and looked at who was calling, making sure it wasn’t anyone who you couldn’t speak to. Upon seeing ‘Mother’ on the screen, he frowned. Didn’t they tell her to call earlier than this? Surely not when they were eating. Jungkook walked back to the dining table, hoping for the screen to turn dark.

As you noticed Jungkook’s frown, you immediately understood who was calling. Throughout the years, the relationship between you and your parents had diminished a great amount. They never approved of the boys and your friendship with them, yet that didn’t stop you from hanging out with them. When you told them, you were moving in with them, your parents disapproved of the idea entirely. You never understood what they had against the boys. They didn’t even know them.

“My parents are calling…” You mumbled out as you grabbed the phone from Jungkook and gave him a small smile before accepting the call.

“Y/N. So glad you could pick up. I was simply calling to make sure you were coming over on your father’s birthday. Hopefully, you didn’t forget about it.” Your mothers venomous voice said from the other side of the line. You could almost hear her smirk. You hadn’t forgotten about your father’s birthday; it was impossible for you to since you had been good with dates since little.

“Of course not, mother. Me and the boys will be there tomorrow morning to congratulate father. That is, if you let them come over. If not, I’ll leave my present by the doorway.” You replied in the same tone she was giving you, not bothering to keep the façade up any longer. The woman you dared to call for mother scoffed on the other side.

“Just be here by 11am sharp.” She said before hanging up, leaving you to listen to the silence. With that, you let out a deep sigh and looked at the boys. You knew they didn’t like them either, yet you couldn’t go there without them.

“Please come with me tomorrow. I know I didn’t consult any of you on the matter, but I can’t go there without you. They’ll throw shady comments and say rude things and all I want is for things to go at least a bit okay. If I go alone, they’ll use me to disrespect you and I don’t want that because I care for you so much but I know it is also selfish of me to ask you to join me because I know you don’t like them either but it’s just this once and after that you won’t have to-”

“Princess calm down. Of course, we’ll go with you. We love you too much to just let you go there alone. Plus, we love birthday cake as well.” Jin said as he started collecting the plates from the other boys, giving you a kiss on the forehead before also taking your plate and leaving for the kitchen to grab desert.

“Jin-hyung is right, angel! We’d hate to let you go there alone.” Hoseok said, giving you a huge smile. “But what are you going to give your father? Do you have a present prepared?”

You shook your head and sighed. With everything that had happened, you hadn’t had time to go out and buy anything.

“How about a bottle of wine? We have some nice wine here, so you can just give him that, munchkin.” Jimin said as he sipped down his wine, thinking of other ideas of what the present could be. You on the other hand were pleased with the bottle. Your father loved wine and the boys had a great collection so giving him a bottle as a present wasn’t such a bad idea.

“That’s actually a really good idea, Chim! A bottle it is. I’m sure he’ll love it.” You said excited and happy with the thought of giving your father a fine bottle of red wine for his birthday. Better than socks or nothing.

THE NEXT MORNING

You woke up at the sound of ruffling coming from beside you. You didn’t want to open your eyes, knowing it would mean you’d have to get up and you were too comfortable right now.

“Hmm angel. You look so beautiful first thing in the morning.” You heard Hoseok say from behind you as he spooned you against him. His voice was raspy, indicating he had just woken up as well. So, the ruffling noise wasn’t made by him. You smiled as you opened your eyes and met face to face with Jimin. He was already staring at you, staring at your morning face as his legs intertwined with yours.

“Morning munchkin.” He said, stretching as you stared at the tattoo in his ribs. You traced it with your fingers, smiling at the reason why he got it in the first place.

“I still remember when you got it, Chim. ‘Nevermind’ was our promise.” You giggled and placed a kiss on the tattoo before you blushed and sunk deeper into Hoseok’s embrace. “But to think you’d actually get it tattooed. You’re crazy.”

Hoseok chuckled from behind you, placing kisses on the back of your neck. “Angel, we all are. We’re crazy for you. Having you here with us is what keeps us sane.” He mumbled into your ear, sending chills down your spine before the door flew open.

“Namjoon-hyung forced me to get up so all of you need to get up as well.” Jungkook let out an annoyed sigh, his eyes still closed. You knew both him and Taehyung had stayed up all night playing like they usually did which meant always made them the worst to wake up, not counting Yoongi of course. Plus you were sure this was part of the so called punishment Hoseok said they’d both be getting.

“It’s your own fault for staying up late, Jungkookie.” Jimin said as he ruffled your hair, getting up from your bed.

“Pfft. Just get up. It’s already 9am.” Jungkook said as he left the room. At the sound of those words, you jolted up.

“9am?! Oh my god. Hobi, get up!! I need to get ready. We’ll be late! We can’t be late! Geeeet up!” You said as you stood up and headed to your wall–in closet, starting to pick something to wear. You needed to look presentable or else your parents would assume you didn’t put any effort in looking good and they’d, of course, comment on it.

“Alright ma’am, I’m up! I’ll go get ready too, Angel. Don’t take too long.” Hoseok chuckled before leaving the room, closing the door after him.

After almost 15 minutes of choosing what to wear, you left the room in a white casual long sleeved dress. You let your hair down and put some earrings on, them going well with the high heels you decided to wear. Almost your entire outfit had been things the boys had gifted you along the years, yet you happily wore it. You rarely styled any of the things they gave you, but today you decided to simply rock it.

“Princess…damn. You look ravishing with that outfit on. You should dress up more often, so we get to see you rocking those dresses you have.” Jin said as you entered the kitchen, finding all the boys sitting and talking, all in suits.

“Thank you, Jinnie and all of you look very handsome as well. Hopefully today goes okay.” You sat down next to Taehyung and smiled before taking a pancake and eating.

It wasn’t long until all of you were done eating and getting into the respective cars, making your way to your old house. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You knew this would go bad; it always did but you weren’t at fault. You tried to make things work, but your parents were extremely stubborn and if things didn’t go their way, they simply didn’t approve of it or thought it was bad. Lost in thoughts as you looked out of the window, your parents’ home soon came into view. You let out a nervous sigh as Hoseok parked the car behind Jin’s. ‘They’re here with me so everything will be okay. No matter what happens, they’ll always be by my side.’ You thought to yourself as you grabbed the bottle and got out of the car, soon joined by the 7 boys who stood close to you.

“It’ll be okay, cutie. We’re here.” Jungkook said as he carefully knocked on the door, you nodding as you held the bottle close to you.

Only seconds later, the door opened, revealing your mother fully dolled up. She stared at you up and down before looking at the boys and giving the eight of you a fake smile. You assumed this would be a small gathering yet judging by the number of cars parked around and the sound of people talking from inside, this was anything but small. Of course not, your parents had always loved to shine for their friends. Buying things, they could barely afford so they kept their appearance up. It was all so fake and that was also a reason that when the boys offered you to stay at their house, you barely gave it two thoughts. It’d be better than to stay there with such fake people surrounded by fake friends, fake designer clothes and fake happiness.

“So glad all of you could come. Please come in and make yourself at home.” She said, giving room for all of you to come in. The boys walked ahead of you, making sure no unwanted surprises would come your way. “Using their money, I see. Wouldn’t expect any less from you.” Your mother mumbled into your ear as she pulled you into a hug, holding you tight in her embrace. Her arms felt like snakes crushing you, taking all your energy away. “I could almost say you’re exactly like me when I was younger.”

“I think that’s enough.” Taehyung said as he grabbed your mother’s hand, taking you away from her. Taehyung hadn’t exactly heard what the older woman had said to you, but he realized it couldn’t be any good when he turned around and saw the look on your face.

“Oh, I was simply giving my daughter a hug. Is that not allowed, Mr. Taehyung?” Despite not meeting them often, your parents knew all of the boys’ names well. After all, they had been around since you were only 13.

Taehyung snickered at the woman’s comment, yet his eyes were dark. He felt he could strangle her if he were given the opportunity. One thing that drove him mad was the way your parents had started treating you after meeting the boys officially once you turned 15. It drove him to the brink of madness.

“It certainly would be if you weren’t such a witch, Mrs. I don’t like my sweetheart to be tainted by such hands of yours, you see.” Taehyung said before he wrapped a hand around your waist and leaded you to the living room where the other boys found themselves. Your father sat on an armchair as the other guests congratulated him. He looked happy yet as soon as his eyes fell on Taehyung’s hand that still held you, his smile dropped.

“My daughter has arrived. Y/N, come here.” Your father called, giving you one of his smiles. To other people that smile would come of as genuine and honest, but you knew better. You had seen the damage that smile held, the words that could come out of that mouth. Yet you decided to play his game for now. They were still the people that raised you till a certain age, you owned them that.

“Father. Happy birthday. Since you love wine, then I couldn’t find a better gift to give you than a good bottle of red wine.” You said as you walked over to him, handing him the bottle

“My daughter, always so thoughtful. Thank you. I shall treasure it.” He said, looking at the bottle. To many, the relationship between your parents and you were a normal, healthy one. Many of these people were just as fake as them, not seeing pass their own need for material things and power.

That’s why they wouldn’t stay for lunch. That was too intimate and none of them wanted to be a part of such. But of course, their excuses went along like they needed to work, or had something planned. They all knew it was simple excuses and lies yet they still pretended as if it wasn’t. It only took an hour before everyone who called themselves friends and acquaintances of your parents left the house.

Now it was you, your 7 boys and your parents. All in one room, all having lunch. The silence was unbearable, and you hated it. It wasn’t a comfortable silence but a deadly one.

“Are you done whoring around and ready to come back home?” Your mother asked as she eyed you from the other side of the table. With the question filling the room, the boys stopped eating and placed their forks and knives down. Your mother was bold to ask something like that in front of them.

“Excuse me what? I don’t think I caught what you said, mother.”

“You heard her, Y/N. I think it is time for you to stop with this act you’re pulling with these boys and come home. Stop this, understood? We can set up a date between you and the son of EL – electronics. Their company is doing quite well nowadays, and he is a lovely young man.”

“Your father is right. We’re getting older and you need to soon settle down with a capable man that is financially stable, of course.”

So, this was what it was all really about. They wanted to set you up with someone. You knew your mother’s invite was too good to seem true. You got up from your seat and stared at the man and woman you once adored. You weren’t going to give them the fight they so wanted and wished for. You were done with their little games and tricks.

“That’s not going to happen. You never liked any of them, I understand that. But because you don’t approve of the best friends, I brought home over 7 years ago, doesn’t mean I can’t be with them. From now on, do not call me or come near me. I wish to cut all ties I have with you.”

“You’re trying to take her from us? She’s fucking ours so you two better fucking lay low. We won’t have any problems getting rid of you.” Hoseok said as he grabbed the knife he used and stabbed it on the table.

“Hoseok-hyung, calm down.” Namjoon said as he got up. He took out his check book as he walked over to your father. While Namjoon made his way, Yoongi pulled you close to him, holding you against him. He placed kisses on your neck as his eyes were on your mother. If she wanted a show, he would give her one she wouldn’t forget.

“Y/N, you’re ours. And you won’t leave us. We won’t let you leave even if we have to tie you up to our bed. You’re ours to keep forever. Not even your lame excuse of parents can keep us from claiming you as ours.” He said loud and clear, making sure everyone in the room heard him.

“Mr. Our baby girl made it clear to wish to cut all ties with the likes of you so here.” Namjoon said as he wrote down something on the check and ripped it out, placing it in front of your father.

“Stay away from her from now on or God have mercy on you because we won’t. Upset her anymore and I’ll know. This money surely is enough to…buy your distance, no? Or are you greedy for more?” Namjoon said, a smirk curling his lips. By now, all the boys were either smiling or chuckling enjoying the show that was going on in front of them.

“YOU! You insolent boy. How dare you speak to me that way?!” Before you could even comprehend what was going on, your father had raised his hand at Namjoon, ready to hit him across the face.

You were fast to close your eyes, but the sound that you were so sure you were about to hear, never happened.

When you opened your eyes, Namjoon held your fathers’ arm in the air, as his other hand were around his neck. “Sir, I don’t believe I have given you any reason to hit me, have I?” Namjoon asked as he squeezed harder.

On the other side, your mother was making his way to you, yet was soon stopped by Jin, who towered over her, “I don’t think you want to do that. You touch our princess and we’ll show you where that money comes from. I’m sure you don’t want that. Please refrain from touching our princess.”

As your mother let out an annoyed sigh, you then looked at your father who was at the verge of passing out on Namjoon’s hand.

“Joonie, please. Let him go.” You said as you tried to walk over to them yet were stopped by Yoongi’s hold.

“This is all your fault! You unthankful whore! We raised you and this is how you repay us?! YOU WERE A COMPLETE MISTAKE!” Your mother yelled at the top of her lungs, but were words seemed meaningless as you felt water being splashed against your face and dress. A few drops had gotten on Yoongi and only when you turned around, did you notice that the liquid wasn’t water, but wine. The dress the boys had gifted you was now ruined together with your heels. Not only that but Yoongi’s suit was also most likely ruined as well.

“Yoongi-hyung, please take Y/N out of here and go get yourself cleaned up as well.” Hoseok said in-between gritted teeth as he grabbed the knife, he used to cut his meal earlier.

With that said, you were being pulled out of the living room and your old home, into one of the vans and being driven away.

3rd person POV ON

As soon as Namjoon heard the front door being closed once again, he let the older man go. “That was a good scene. Glad we could make a deal.”

“How could you make us do this…we may have never approved of any of you but she’s our daughter.” Your mother now sobbed as she sat down on one of the chairs. At her sobs, Jungkook laughed.

“Didn’t you hear Yoongi-hyung? She’s ours and not even you will keep her from us. You were a small obstacle in her life we needed to get rid of.” The maknae said as he made his way to the woman who sat in tears. “Plus, we didn’t do anything. It was a deal. You agreed to it, didn’t you? You wanted money so bad you’d do this to your daughter. That is why you aren’t worthy of being in her life. No one will ever be worthy of her attention and affection besides us.”

The older man who was coughing on the ground looked up to the leader, who still had a smirk on his face. “Once she finds out, she’ll leave all of you! You’re crazy! You made us do a deal with you just for Y/N to believe that we hate her, just for her to believe we are monsters when you’re the real monsters in the end!” He said as loud and clear as he could yet coughing tremendously afterwards.

“Hoseok, could you please?” Namjoon said as he took a seat on the chair in front Y/N’s mother and crossed his legs, grabbing his glass of wine and sipping it.

“Of course.” Hoseok replied as Jungkook now held the woman in place, both her palms on the table. Hoseok made his way to the woman and smiled at her before stabbing one of palms down to the table with the fork he held so tightly throughout this entire scene. As Y/N’s mother screamed in agony, her husband tried to get up from the floor only to be kicked back down by Jin. “Tae, Jimin, please take care of the man before we have to leave.”

“Of course, Hyung.” The younger males replied as both got on each side of him, now kicking him with full force wherever they felt like it.

“See, unlike you, we’d do anything for our girl. We’d never give her up the way you did.” Jimin said as his shoe connected to the stomach of the beaten man.

“Hoseok, the other one too.” Namjoon carefully said, looking at his watch, making sure they weren’t late for a movie night with Y/N later.

Hoseok smiled and repeated the same action he did earlier, now with a knife. The older woman had now both her palms stuck to the table, both utensils going straight through her hands.

“I hope you understood our message. Two doctors are on their way to help you and take of your…accidents. Stay away from Y/N or next time, it’ll be worse.” Namjoon said as he now got up and fixed his suit, finishing his glass of wine. He then grabbed the check he had written down and let it fall on the father of his lover. The man was bloody, laying on the floor as he grunted and sobbed in pain.

“It was a pleasure to make a deal with the both of you.” Jin said he grabbed a napkin and tossed it to Hoseok as all the others made their way out of the house.

“Oh, and don’t try to tell Y/N anything about this. The money’s exactly to keep you quiet and away.” Taehyung snickered before he left, being the last one to leave.

With that, they left the older couple bleeding and crying. The doctors were quick to arrive, giving their bosses a nod of head before rushing inside to make sure the older people inside the house didn’t die. After all, death is an escape for some people. And the boys weren’t kind enough to let the people who wronged you, find an escape from the hell they’d put them through.

Preview of Chapter 8

“You’re ours, right? Tell me you’re ours and that you’ll never leave. Promise me, munchkin.”

“I’m all yours.”

“I want to go to the club, come with me.”

“Look at her, moving her body like that. God, it’s such a turn on.”

“Get down on your knees, baby girl. I think it’s time for you to find out what the hyung line can do to that body of yours.”

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peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

super random prompts for today bc im feeling nostalgic~

tw // death

at 1100 years of you fulfilling your punishment as a human turned grim reaper, no one could blame you when you confess that you don’t really know yourself now if the promise you swore to chan before he died by your sword in his first life is still serious or holds meaning to you. it was a long long time ago, already muddled in your failing memories, when you swore to the joseon era prince that you would ‘find and torture him in every life he gets’ because he invaded your village and branded you as a criminal (which ultimately led to you doing the things that got you landed with your current spiritual punishment). at present, having already met different versions of him in his subsequent lives and delivering him to the afterlife each time without fail, you’re not sure anymore if you can still hold onto this promise and cause him trouble. after all, every version of him that pops up on your radar throughout the centuries never remembers what he did in his first life, let alone remember you. plus, the only time he sees you now as a grim reaper is on his death bed, when you come to fetch him and confess to causing some of the misfortunes he’s experienced in the life that he’s lived.

so imagine your surprise when the gods inform you that chan only has one reincarnation left to spend and that he’ll spend it in the 21st century seoul, right where everything started. you’re then furthermore petrified when this version you meet not only has the ability to see and interact with ghosts by his 3rd eye but also finds the journal you unknowingly drop at his neighbor’s funeral: filled with notes on him and his previous lives as well as the confusing feelings you’ve unconsciously developed over the years. the final nail in the coffin, however, is that he’s not smug about it when he eventually finds you at the local graveyard, unlike how you expected of the chan from the joseon era. instead, he asks you all about his past lives, your punishment, and what he should expect in his next life if he has any. this time, with no means of escaping from his 3rd eye and his dangerously fast biking skills, you’re forced to confront the soul of the person you once called your enemy.

more of the kids under the cut!

minho receives a google form link from you at the strike of midnight on your 1st anniversary as a couple, initially opening it on the assumption that it’s the survey form you previously coerced him into agreeing to answer for your senior thesis. the computer science major is then thoroughly surprised when the link opens to a red and pink-themed form titled, “y/n’s boyfriend application!” with questions ranging from, “full name so i can flames it with my name” to “rate my annoying habits from ‘i love them dw’ to ‘this is probably going to be one of the future reasons why we’ll break-up.’” he messages you first before anything else, asking you just exactly ‘what the fuck is this application for, babe?’ to which you only reply with a spam of winking emojis. actually, you only reply with winking emojis and actual winks when he decides to videocall you into answering him, leading minho to answer the form while you’re peeking over on a small browser on his laptop screen. your boyfriend mainly answers the questions lightheartedly, even reading his answers aloud to you after (”what number on the fan do i like? four, of course!” “minho, you’re a monster.”). that is until the last question which he only smiles at before spending the last five minutes of your videocall typing continuously then ending the call after submitting, preventing you from interrogating him and his sudden change in behavior.

it’s only after the call that you see his answer to the last question (”why do you love me”), an entire eight paragraphs of him just mindlessly rambling about whatever comes at the top of his head to answer the question: ranging from his favourite and least favourite memories of you together, the things he loves about you coupled with the things he claims to not like about you (before shyly admitting towards the end that he still finds things to love about them), and an “overall there’s a lot of reasons why i love you: some i’ve mentioned, some i haven’t, some i’ve discovered, and some i will find out about in the future when we celebrate our 2nd year anniversary, 3rd, 4th, and the ones we’ll eventually forget what number they’re supposed to be because we’ll probably be married and busy with a lot of other things ;) there’s just no one definitive answer to this question, to be honest, but this is what comes at the top of my head. happy one year, baby <3″

when the fabric of reality that blankets seoul is reported to have been ripped at the seams, you start mysteriously losing some of your personal belongings to the parallel dimension’s version of your apartment. at first you blame it on your public enemy no. 1 and roommate, changbin, who does have a habit of borrowing things without permission and forgetting to return them. when you find a blue-haired and heavily tattooed changbin using your hair dryer in the bathroom one day (clearly looking very different from the roommate you’ve been living with for 6 months who has blonde hair and piercings only), however, only then do you realize that it’s been your roommate’s parallel version who’s been unknowingly receiving your things. what’s more surprising is him getting visibly confused at you initially throwing a fit at him when you mistook him as your real roommate, explaining to you later on that he and your parallel version are dating. you purposely avoid parallel dimension changbin for a few days in embarrassment from the latter, that is until he sits you down in the living room a week later (while your dimension’s changbin is out at his part-time job) and asks you, “so, what’s your problem with my parallel self? maybe i can help!”

only parallel dimension changbin proves himself to be unhelpful when all he comments on your subsequent ramblings is a cheesy grin and, “your roommate’s probably in love with you. god, i can’t believe that even in your reality i’m stupid.”

in a world where the person who doesn’t reciprocate an individual’s strong feelings instead of the other way around, hyunjin’s had his own fair share of sick days and pharmacy runs to suppress the flowers that bloom in him from admirers who fall way too deep into his charms. he’s slightly grown desensitized to it, having already memorized what to do and what to say to the people who are forced to confront and apologize to him each and every time. when it’s you who’s suddenly confessing your sudden feelings to him, promising that you’ll get over it in a month and even stay away for a while for his sake, only then does he feel a strange mix of dread, worry, and fear at the pit of his stomach. he doesn’t want you, his best friend, to ever leave his side but at the same time he can’t find it in himself to reciprocate your feelings for you to stay. for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do nor what to say to you, the daffodils suddenly feeling heavier in his lungs the more you try and distance yourself and see new people.

jisung, unlike how the cliche trope goes, always bets everything on him missing his shot at your subdivision’s basketball court. he always says something along the lines of, “if i miss this shot, let’s go the movies!” or “if the ball falls off the rim after 5 seconds, you’ll go to the beach party with me!” despite being the star player of your high school basketball team himself. he always purposely misses for fun and gets his reward, of course, even when you remind him to shoot properly through flustered expressions and feigned huffs. this has then caused you your entire summer time and allowance, all spent glued to jisung’s hip and buying him all sorts of things from ice cream, extended time to borrow surf boards at the beach, and even a ride ticket to the travelling carnival’s ferris wheel (where he stole a kiss from you at the top like the cheesy little shit that he is).

whenever you ask him why he bets in reverse each and every time, however, only then does his confident smirk disappears into his blush and he turns his entire face away from you; too shy to admit that you make him a little too nervous whenever it’s just you watching him shoot hoops. give him a rest, he just wants more full assurance that he’ll get to spend more time with you, as boyish as that sounds.

you probably should’ve known better than to provoke chenle and wooyoung when you told them over the student council meeting that a marriage booth probably wouldn’t give you a lot of revenue since your school festival this year doesn’t fall on valentine’s day week. you probably should’ve expected that the first thing they’d do after the student assembly, when the festival is formally opened, is to drag you into said marriage booth—your english classroom decorated from top to bottom in cheap white cloth, plastic flowers, and an edit of your senior alumni bang chan as jesus—and put you into one of the flower crown veils they probably got at someone’s baptism, explaining that they need someone to kickstart the booth and attract more customers. but most of all, you probably should’ve expected that these two troublemaking vice president and secretary of yours wouldn’t hesitate to take this opportunity to torment you even further because suddenly you’re getting fake married to felix, your chem lab partner and long-time crush, who also has his own ‘sins’ to atone to chenle and wooyoung (something about ditching them at a party because he saw an injured cat stuck up on a tree on the way to the venue). the two of you stand in front of the “bang chan altar” for 10 minutes with han jisung in a questionable pope costume, the two of you attracting passersby who are mostly your classmates murmuring “oh my god, y/n and felix?” or “i knew it! those two are so cute together!” as the two of you are forced into exchanging cereal box rings and saying impromptu vows.

what you didn’t expect from this experience, however, is felix suddenly confessing in his vows, clearing his throat awkwardly while sliding the purple plastic ring on your ring finger and saying, “this isn’t how i imagined it to go but we’re both here, all of our classmates are here, and you’re looking really pretty today so, uh...y/n, i just want to say that i’ve really liked you for a long time.”

your grandmother shows you her first look of disapproval over your weaved fabrics when you start creating pieces that seem to resemble the aura of a boy. as much as you don’t want to see her disappointed, tradition still stands that you have to design your fabrics according to how you would interpret your dreams and since you turned 18, all you’ve been dreaming about is your potential soulmate. of all 7 billion in the world, you just have to be one of the rare ones with the ability to interpret your dreams on textile and have these said dreams be your soulmate bond to someone else as well. instead of arbitrary colors or shapes resembling nature like your grandmother and everyone else, you’re trying to recreate the face of a boy your age with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen and the prettiest brown eyes; instead of putting the sounds of the ocean or the chirping of birds as they would be usually heard in dreams onto colorful fabric, you’re trying to mix red, orange, and yellow dyes on threads just to try and capture seungmin’s golden voice whenever he would sing to you in your dreams. your soulmate becomes your muse, the lasting impressions he makes on you in the 3 real-time seconds of dreaming that you spend with him embedding themselves into the blanket you’ve been tasked to make for the winter.

seungmin is more than flattered of course, finding genuine fascination in what you do and excitement to see you in person once university allows him. it’s only at the end of the year, however, right on christmas day, when he finally sees you on vacation in your town with his family—finding you at the beach party his new friend hyunjin invites him to where you dance around the bonfire with your own friends, wrapped in the blanket made of warm colors that just scream his very soul and aura. your eyes meet almost as soon as he arrives because of your soulmate pull, causing you to become flustered at realizing that you’re wearing the blanket design that’s been inspired by him, and before he knows it, kim seungmin is running to you and grabbing your arm. “hi.” he pants breathlessly, his relieved smile shining brightly against the orange glow of the fire to your side. “finally. it’s you!”

jeongin stares at his laptop for a solid 5 minutes in complete and utter confusion before his roommate seungmin pokes him on the side of his head and asks if he passed his dream university, snapping him out of reality. it’s not that he didn’t pass the entrance exam, definitely not because he’s still feeling confident from answering it from almost 6 months ago. rather, it’s that the acceptance e-mail sent to him by the university is for a completely different name, your name out of all applicants out there—that one person he sat next to at cram school and turned down at the end of the summer. logging into his social media accounts, he sees people voicing out their concerns for similar incidents, that they’re getting acceptance or rejection e-mails of other applicants instead of their own, and posts that aim to track down who’s gotten who to remedy this. when seungmin hears this, he simply shrugs and urges jeongin to simply message you and get over it since the two of you are connected on social media anyway. but still, jeongin takes another hour to message you with a simple, “hi, i got your e-mail. should i forward it to you?” even closing his laptop in a hurry and running back into the comfort of his blanket as soon as he hears the dreadful ping of the messenger app. he knows he shouldn’t be flustered to message you, especially with something as important as your acceptance letter, but he can’t help but feel weak in the knees at the thought of having to talk to you again after almost a year because all he can think about is that he really shouldn’t have rejected you in that offer to go to the movies in the first place.

what’s worse is that, since he sent the message over online, his thoughts can’t help but overthink your simple “really? here’s my e-mail” reply that comes not even a second after he sends his message—even more your follow-up reply of “i got yours too btw! i’ll forward it to you when you forward mine” when he doesn’t reply immediately. jeongin’s fingers uncontrollably shake as he musters up the courage to reply, face blushing red the entire time as he e-mails you your acceptance letter. all this time, considering how the two of you haven’t talked in a long time, he only thinks about one ambitious thought: “is it a bad time? to bring up that movie offer again?”

#stray kids #skz #chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #seungmin #i.n.

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

Just Like a Woman - Part 12

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @nixfreak, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows, @vici-xx, @bellas2silly,@rogerrhqpsody If you’d like to be added for the epilogue, let me know!

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! However, there WILL be an epilogue, so it’s not quite over yet!

Warning(s): None!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Part 12 here we go!!!

Two weeks passed. The sentencing was equally as satisfying as the trial. Sully was hit with ten years in prison, but would not be eligible for parole until after serving at least five. You were sure they would appeal, but for now, he was going to be off the streets and Dominique had secured her justice. It made your entire career in law up until this point worth it.

After the sentencing, Bill called you into his office. You were nervous about it because usually he didn’t have private meetings unless it was serious. You swallowed before walking in.

“Y/N,” he greeted you. “Thanks for coming up. I know you’re busy.”

“No problem,” you replied. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for handling this case,” he said. “You took it on with no experience. You also overcame your own hurt to take on Roger’s divorce. You’ve proven just how valuable you are to this firm these past months.”

You blinked, surprised by the flattery.

“Well, I - um - thank you,” you said. “What’s brought this on?”

“We’re growing as a firm,” he said. “And with John retiring, I’ve got to start thinking about his replacement.”

John was the other senior partner. He was Bill’s professor, and they began the firm together. Your stomach jolted. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

He twirled his pen between his fingers and glanced down at a packet of papers on his desk.

“This is a new contract for employment,” he said. “For you. To become a partner.”

“A senior partner?” you questioned.

He smiled. “Just partner for now. But that is the track I see for you.”

You almost squirmed in your seat with joy. To become a partner was a dream of yours. To be on track for senior partner was even more pleasing to hear.

“What do you say?” he asked. “We’re a good team. You deserve to help me run this place, especially after what you’ve recently accomplished.”

A smile spread across your face.

“I say hell yes,” you told him, beaming.

“Wonderful,” he replied. “If you read the contract, you’ll see your salary increase.”

You reached out and picked up the packet. You scanned the first page until you found the number. Your stomach did a flip at the offer and your eyes went wide.

“What?!”

He smirked. “That’s just a little less than I make. I thought that was fair considering how great an attorney you are.”

“That’s a lot of money!”

“Nothing that you don’t deserve.”

You put the papers in your lap and looked at him with your mouth hanging open.

“This is incredible, Bill,” you said earnestly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he returned. “I’m looking forward to this.”

Feeling completely elated, you signed the papers. Afterward, you called Roger to tell him the good news.

“A partner?!” he gasped. “Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, sweetie!” you replied. “I just can’t believe it! I mean, Bill did so much of the work for Dominique’s case, and he guided me through all of it, so I was just really shocked! But I’m excited I can hardly stand it!”

“Tell you what, this calls for celebration,” he said. “How about I take you to a special lunch tomorrow and we can toast to your promotion?”

“I’d love that,” you told him.

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, love.”

“See you tonight.”

You hung up and giggled to yourself. You could barely contain your emotion. Everything was coming together, like Roger said. You were looking forward to your future with him, and your promising career as a partner.

The next day, Jane came into your office first thing in the morning.

“Y/N, Miss -” she began, but Miss Thomas swept by her and marched into your office.

“Miss Thomas needs to see you,” Jane finished, shooting the woman an annoyed glare.

“Yes, Jane, I can see that,” you sighed. “You may go.”

She nodded and closed the door. You looked at Miss Thomas.

“Lucy, how can I help you?” you asked.

“I need you to help my father with his wrongful termination suit,” she said, swinging her hair behind her shoulder.

“Okay, what does he do?” you asked.

“He’s a primary school teacher,” she said.

“And why was he fired?” you wondered.

“Because he believes he’s Santa Claus,” she told you simply.

You blinked. “I - I’m sorry?”

“He told the children that he’s Santa - which he believes - so the headmaster fired him,” she went on. “It’s completely unfair. What, just because he’s Santa means he doesn’t have a right to work?”

“You do know that he’s not really Santa Claus, right?” you asked slowly, shock still coming over you.

“There’s no way to prove that he isn’t, really,” she said with a shrug. “Whether he is or not isn’t for me to decide. The point is, he shouldn’t be fired for it.”

“When’s the court date?” you asked, ignoring the ridiculousness of it.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “Can you meet with him today?”

Your eyes went wide. “Tomorrow?! Why am I only just learning about this?!”

“He had another lawyer, but he was terrible so I fired him,” she answered. “You’re the best lawyer I know, so I came to you.”

“I can meet with him today, but it’ll have to be over lunch,” you said with a sigh. “I’m booked the rest of the day.”

“Great, I’ll see you at noon,” she chirped.

She stood up, turned on her heel and sauntered out of your office. You heaved another sigh. You had so been looking forward to your lunch with Roger, but now you were going to have to call and cancel. But as you picked up the phone, you heard the now familiar laugh of the little boy. You whipped around and spotted him crawling beneath the window behind your desk.

“What are you doing down there?” you wondered, smiling at him.

You had seen him at least once a day for the past two weeks. You told only Roger, who insisted you see a psychiatrist. Or maybe even a neurologist. You refused because going to the doctor was your absolute least favorite thing to do and you were certain the visions would stop. Only, they weren’t. You were beginning to consider Roger’s idea. Especially now that you were talking to him.

He only giggled before disappearing as he always did. You shook your head, amused. Then you dialed Roger. The phone rang, and as it did, you got an idea.

“Hello?” Roger’s voice came through on the other end.

“Rog?”

“Yes, love?”

“Could you meet me at my office for lunch today instead of the restaurant?” you requested. “I’m meeting a last minute client and I could use your help.”

“Really?” he questioned. “Sounds odd. And what about our celebration?”

“It’s Miss Thomas’s father,” you told him. “Can we celebrate tonight instead?”

“I can’t imagine what he’s like,” he said with a chuckle. “Of course we can celebrate tonight. I’ll change the reservation.

“Thank you so much,” you replied. “Get here around noon, yeah?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Love you!”

“Love you more.”

You hung up, humming contentedly.

He made good on his promise. In fact, Roger arrived before Miss Thomas and her father. You explained to Roger what she had told you that morning, but didn’t tell him the vital question you were going to ask.

Miss Thomas entered your office, accompanied by the kindest looking elderly man you had ever seen in your life. You wondered how he could have fathered someone like her. He was round, with cherry red cheeks, and a jolly smile. He wore a black peacoat, but you could see the red trousers beneath it. On his feet were black boots. Atop his silvery white mane of hair, he wore a red Santa hat. As he made his way through the office, he wished everyone a happy Christmas. Until finally, he was at your door.

“Mr. Claus,” you said respectfully. “Thank you for taking time to see me today.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied. “This whole business is really throwing off my schedule. And this is a very busy time of year for me.”

“I imagine so,” you returned. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” he said kindly, and he sat in a chair across from your desk.

“Tell me a little bit about your case,” you said.

“Well, for most of the year, I teach primary school,” he explained. “But of course, the closer the holidays get, the busier I get. So, I told the children this and why I was so busy, and then some parents got upset and the next thing I knew, I was fired.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. “Well, we’re going to try and get you your job back, sir. Only, we have to prove that what you’re saying isn’t proof of diminished capacity, which is what the headmaster is claiming.”

“I don’t understand all these legal terms,” he said with a shrug. “I just know that after delivering the presents this year, I won’t have the usual children to look forward to.”

“Mr. Claus, have you ever seen this man before?” you asked, pointing to Roger.

Mr. Thomas laughed heartily. “Well, of course I have! But not since he was a boy! How are you, Roger?”

“Um...fine?”

Roger raised a concerned eyebrow at you. He clearly had never actually met this man in his life.

“Mr. Claus, do you know Mr. Taylor from his band, Queen?” you asked.

Mr. Thomas shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Roger stopped writing to me when he was ten, and of course with all the new children, we lost touch.”

“Mr. Claus, how many children does Roger have?” you asked.

“Why, he’s got two!” Mr. Thomas said excitedly. “Little Felix and baby Rory. Both very good children who will be getting sweets in their stockings this year!”

Roger’s eyes went wide as an owl’s. He looked over at you again.

“I’ve never shared my children’s names publicly,” he said. “Ever.”

“And of course, there’ll be another next year, though he hasn’t got a name yet,” Mr. Thomas added with a twinkle in his eye.

You froze as you absorbed those words.

“I...I’m sorry, what?” you squeaked with shock.

Miss Thomas looked at you like you were an idiot.

“You’re pregnant, Y/N, didn’t you know?” she snapped.

“How could I possibly know, I haven’t even missed a period!” you protested.

You looked desperately at Roger. The color had drained from his face. You gaped at each other, in complete disbelief.

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Mr. Thomas said. “Your son?”

“M-my son?” you sputtered.

Was that the little boy you were seeing? Was that why he resembled Roger with that little piece of you?

Mr. Thomas’s eyes sparkled again as he winked at you.

“I...I have been seeing a boy, but I didn’t…” you trailed off, brain muddled with everything you were experiencing.

“He’s trying to get your attention, Y/N,” Mr. Thomas said. “Have you spoken to him?”

“I’ve tried, but he always disappears,” you admitted, unsure what made you comfortable enough to say it.

“He’s telling you he’s on the way,” he continued. “You ought to schedule an appointment with your doctor.”

You still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. You had no anticipated Mr. Thomas knowing about Roger’s children, much less the one that might exist in the future. And yet, to think that you might be carrying Roger’s son made you happier than you could recall feeling in years.

“Mr. Thomas, I will take your case,” you finally said.

“Hold on, this must be a trick,” Roger interjected. “I’m famous, he could have known -”

“Not if you’ve never shared their names,” you cut across him.

“What if he’s a journalist who could somehow gain access to -”

“Roger, he’s a schoolteacher,” you interrupted again. Then you looked at Mr. Thomas. “And so much more.”

You smiled at him, which he returned. Roger was still struggling.

“This is crazy,” he said. “It’s absolutely mad.”

“There’s only one way to be sure,” you said.

You had Jane schedule you a doctor’s appointment that afternoon. An at-home pregnancy test would not do for this occasion. Roger insisted on coming with you, so before you knew it, you were sitting on an exam table, swinging your legs with anxiety. Roger was pacing in front of you. The results of this would mean Mr. Thomas was telling the truth, but it meant even more for you and Roger.

“Rog, if we are pregnant,” you began with a sigh. “What...what would you like to do about it?”

He looked at you and his brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. “I mean, would you want to keep it, or…?”

“Oh, my love,” he said gently, striding over to pull you into a hug. “Of course I want to keep it. It’s our child.”

“I know, but we’ve only just got back together, and we aren’t married,” you went on.

“Would you like to be?” he asked.

You blinked. “What?”

“Married,” he said. “Do you want to get married?”

“Is this a proposal?” you returned.

“It might be,” he replied.

You frowned. “Roger, I don’t want to get married just because there might be a child. I want you to marry me only if you really want to marry me. And if you are going to propose, it can’t be in a bloody doctor’s office.”

He chuckled. “Don’t get upset, it was just a way to start the discussion.”

A beat passed and he became serious again.

“Y/N, I want to marry you because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” he said. “The only thing more foolish than getting married would be not getting married because we have wasted so much time already.”

Your mouth began to fall open as you looked at him.

“And no, this isn’t an official proposal,” he said. “I know the one you’ve always dreamed of. But this is where my heart is and I want you to know - I’d marry you right this fucking second, baby or no baby.”

“Rog, I -” you began, but then the doctor walked in.

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, it looks like you are pregnant,” she said.

The words washed over you. Pregnant. With Roger’s baby. The dream you had always wanted since before you even knew who you were.

“I...I am?” you asked. “Are you sure?”

She chuckled and then turned the paper in her hand to show you.

“I’m sure,” she said. “How did you know if you hadn’t missed a period?”

You looked between her and Roger, scrambling for an answer.

“Father Christmas told us,” he said simply.

She blinked and looked at him like she hadn’t heard him right. “Father...Christmas?”

He nodded. “Father Christmas.”

“Well, I can’t exactly argue with that, can I?” she teased, smiling again. “So, we should start you on a few things to keep you and your baby healthy…”

She went on, and you tried to pay attention, but the only thing you could think of was the life you now knew existed within you. You looked down at your stomach, thinking of how it would look in nine months. You were having a baby. With the man of your dreams. You looked up at Roger, who was listening intently to the doctor. You were so grateful that you had found him again, you felt your eyes get warm with tears.

“Y/N?” the doctor said, looking at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Yeah, um, could we just have a minute?” you choked out.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Just call me if you need anything.”

She stepped out of the room and you looked at Roger through your tears. A shaky smile formed across your lips as you met his gaze.

“We’re having a baby!” you sobbed.

You slid off the exam table and threw yourself into his arms. He laughed as he caught you. Giving you a squeeze, he closed his eyes to the feeling of you against him. This was everything he had ever wanted as well. To be with you. To have children with you. To love you for the rest of his life.

“I love you so much,” he said, choking up himself. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too,” you returned. “Happy Christmas, Roger.”

“Happy Christmas, Y/N.”

You went to dinner that night as planned, only without the champagne. While you were originally intending to celebrate your promotion to partner, you were thrilled to celebrate a more important promotion - to mother. You felt this was the one that would change you the most, and you couldn’t wait to see how.

As you and Roger walked back to your flat, you passed some carolers. Among them stood the little boy. He had a mischievous grin on his face that made you look at his father and smile. The boy looked at you and waved before running off and slowly fading out. The wave didn’t feel like a goodbye. It felt more like “see you soon.”

You were dragged to a stop because Roger had halted on the sidewalk.

“Rog?” you asked. “What is it?”

His eyes were fixed on the spot the boy had just disappeared from.

“Was that him?” he wondered, looking at you.

“You saw him?!” you cried.

“I did!” he returned excitedly. “He just waved and ran off! Was that him?!”

“Yeah!” you told him. “That was the boy!”

You took a giddy moment together and clasped hands.

“I’ve got the feeling we won’t be seeing him again,” you said. “Until, y’know, he’s actually here.”

“This feels so surreal,” he replied. “I can’t believe we’ve seen him.”

“It does all seem to be so magical,” you agreed. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. I know you’ve done this already, so -”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss.

“Y/N, no matter how many times I’ve done this, the thrill of being a father again doesn’t get old,” he said. “And to have a baby with you….well, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I am just as excited now as I was with Felix. Maybe even more so.”

You beamed at him.

“I love you, Roger Taylor,” you said.

“I love you more, Y/N Y/L/N,” he returned.

You kissed there in the street, caring nothing for the busyness around you. All that mattered was the man in your arms, the baby in your belly, and the future before all three of you.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor imagine #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen x you #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #just like a woman series

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 11: The Rush]

Chapter summary: Queen and Y/N attend a party and experiment with hallucinogens.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, drugs, partying, injuries, sexual references, angst, some baby stuff.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“You’re trying to make us late, aren’t you?”

Roger looms in the doorway of the hotel bathroom, arms crossed, a baiting ghost of a smile on his lips. His eyes—blue like a summer sky, like blooming delphiniums, like veins beneath skin—trace you from your black heels to your dangling diamond earrings, feasting, craving.

You smile back at him as you rearrange your hair for the fourth time. “The later we are, the drunker everyone else will be and the less agonizing small talk I’ll be forced to make with random music industry people.”

“I can assure you, they’re already drunk.”

“I don’t want to get there before the boys.” Freddie and Brian had left the hotel earlier to pregame in the bars of the French Quarter, and John is...actually, you don’t know where John is at the moment, which is unusual.

Roger chuckles, lights a cigarette, takes a deep drag as he gazes at you. “Come on, baby. You’re not getting any more stunning. It’s not possible. And you don’t want Deaks to be the first one to get there, do you? Can you imagine? He’ll end up telling his life story to the golden retriever or locking himself in a closet or something. We can’t abandon him.”

“No, of course not.” You give your reflection one final appraising glance. It’s not bad: sleek black dress, black Prada bag with a thin diamond-studded shoulder strap, smokey eyes, spritzes of Chanel No. 5. It’s pretty freaking great, actually.

Roger nods to your purse. “You got your kit, Nurse Nightingale?”

“Naturally. You think I trust eccentric and impaired musicians not to do gymnastics down a staircase or punch out misbehaving fellow guests? Oh no. Not a chance. I come well prepared.”

“Good.” Reflexively, unconsciously, he shakes his right arm a few times, stretches the hand, winces. It hurts him all the time, and you know that even if he’ll never say it. He drinks more or less constantly when Queen is on tour, and pops pills on top of that. You can’t ask him to stop; he can’t play without the booze and pills, and he can’t live without the band. He wouldn’t even want to try.

“Roger, is it—”

“I’m fine.” His eyes are on you again, everywhere, soaking up every curve and crevice like rain seeping through parched earth. Dusty ashes trickle from his cigarette onto the white tile floor.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says, meditative in a way that is quiet and still and very unlike Roger. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “How much I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

New Orleans is cool and humid and the streetlights shine beneath the constellations of the night sky: Auriga, Cassiopeia, Ursa Minor, Orion, Perseus. The salt-tinged dampness in the air sticks to your bare forearms, your ankles, your collarbones, your cheeks; the chaotic ocean wind rolls in off the Gulf of Mexico. It’s February 14th of 1977, Valentine’s Day, a day you’ve always thought of as a sort of anniversary for you and Roger; not the day you told him yes, but the day you surrendered to the eventuality, the day you agreed to fall in love with the world he promised you.

Is surrender the right word? you wonder, because part of you doesn’t like it, part of you flinches like you’ve been hit. Yes, it is. Whether I like it or not.

You’ve never spoken of anniversaries to Roger. He’s never asked.

The mansion, a Southern-style manor with columns and fountains in the front yard, is raucous with music and trimmed with twinkling white lights; there are dozens of people—men in suits, women in gowns, strippers, drag queens, mistresses, wives, acrobats, magicians, drug dealers—mingling on the wrap-around porch, sipping drinks, shouting at each other over the music, snatching appetizers off platters that waiters balance on their shoulders as they weave from one end of the house to the other. You and Roger swim through the crowd towards Brian’s mass of dark curls and Freddie’s brash laughter that carries through the night air like smoke signals.

Some man in a lavender suit—a producer or manager or record company executive—is talking to Freddie and Brian with a cigar smoldering between his fingers. “...And it’s extraordinary, really, this new album, everyone’s talking about what a success the tour has been so far. What’s it called again?”

“A Day At The Races,” Brian offers matter-of-factly, as if he’s in a business meeting.

“Ah, that’s it!”

“What’s so interesting,” Bri continues, “is that this time around the audience has started really getting into it, singing along to almost every song, sometimes we can’t even hear ourselves! And at first we were a bit annoyed by it—”

Freddie adds: “We were thinking, ‘shut up, bitches, you paid to hear us sing!’”

“—But then we realized that we should be appreciating that enthusiasm, that maybe we could even figure out a way to harness that energy and write songs with the audience’s participation in mind.”

“Fascinating!” Lavender Suit Guy replies.

“Good evening, everyone!” Roger announces as he sails into the middle of the conversation. “Hey man, how are you? Enjoying yourself? Have you met Y/N? Yes, she’s a Yankee just like you, from Boston originally, and she can cure hangovers like nobody’s business so she’s incredibly handy to have around. Have you heard the new Eagles record yet? Jesus christ, it’s bloody brilliant...”

As they chatter, you scan the pulsing throng of strangers for John. After a moment—as Freddie is recounting the band’s escapades in Miami last week—he appears wearing a black leather jacket and hair that barely covers his ears.

“Deaky!” Fred gasps.

“John!” you squeal in delight, and he grins enormously as he wraps you in a hug. He smells like cigarettes and Manhattans and that verdant, ancient mystery of the American South.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly.

“Your hair...?!” You reach up to run your hands through it, to flip his bangs one way and then the other, to tug gently on the ends. “I’m in shock. Good shock, but definitely shock.”

“Yeah, some American girl told me once that I had good bone structure and should chop my hair off someday so people could appreciate it.”

“Hmm, who could that be?” Roger teases, turning to you.

“I believe I described the aforementioned bone structure as fantastic, not good, but close enough.” You can’t stop staring at John. You blink a few times, waiting for it to sink in. Instead, something feels unnerving in a way you can’t pin down: new, different, anomalous, inviting.

“You’ve all gone shorter, haven’t you?” Lavender Suit Guy remarks. “Well...except Brian, of course.”

“He had much shorter hair once, if you can believe it,” Freddie says. “Back in the very early days. Before John joined us. Bri would straighten it too, it was horrid, the poor man looked like a Lhasa Apso.”

“You have a new baby at home, don’t you?” Lavender Suit Guy asks John.

“I do, yes, my second. A wonderful little girl named Anna.”

“Congratulations! And Brian, you’ve got one on the way as well?”

Brian smiles proudly. “Two, actually.” Chrissie has curbed her comments concerning Veronica’s dreadfully banal, domestic, decidedly unposh existence now that Chris is bedridden with morning sickness and carrying twins. ‘I feel like the fucking Hindenburg,’ she’d told you over the phone. ‘If the Hindenburg had sore tits and smelled like vomit.’

“We’re drowning in babies,” Roger quips in a tone you can’t quite read. Annoyance? Curiosity? Disapproval? Envy?

“Well, since the wives are away and you’re free to play...” Lavender Suit Guy flags down a waiter holding a small tray of sugar cubes. “Ever dropped acid? There’s blow floating around somewhere too, if that’s more your scene.”

Brian smirks uneasily and stirs his Vesper. You look to John. John looks to Roger.

Freddie laughs and lifts a sugar cube daintily off the tray with his thumb and index finger. “Marvelous, darling! Will it make me hallucinate all my wildest dreams? Will an imaginary cheerleading squad of Farrah Fawcetts suck my cock all night?”

Lavender Suit Guy chuckles. “I make no guarantees.”

“Nothing in life ever does. Isn’t that tragic?” Freddie pops the sugar cube into his mouth and grins. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

Roger asks you: “You want to? It could be an adventure.”

LSD wasn’t exactly the adventure you’d had in mind when you agreed to follow Queen across the globe all those years ago in Boston; still, an adventure is an adventure. And if I don’t keep things interesting, he’ll find someone who will.

Oh, that’s not a thought you knew you had.

And I would like to return it to that repressed, dimly-lit, cobwebbed corner of my subconscious where I’d buried it, thank you very much.

“Is it safe?” John asks Lavender Suit Guy.

“Do you think I’d give you something that wasn’t safe? It’s perfectly safe. It can’t kill you. It’s not heroin. Worst case scenario you get a bad trip. And I’ve never gotten a bad trip from this stuff.”

You conjure up a smile for Roger. “Let’s do it.”

“Excellent,” he says, his face lighting up; and you realize that that’s what he’d wanted. He picks up a sugar cube, lays it on his tongue, and then slips it between your lips as he kisses you. Freddie whistles and claps. The cube dissolves with a pleasant, innocent, nostalgic sweetness. Then Roger turns to John. “You in, Deaks?”

John hesitates, then nods. “Alright.”

Roger passes John a sugar cube (with his hand this time), picks up one for himself, and toasts them like champagne glasses. “Cheers!” The sugar cubes disappear behind their teeth.

Freddie stares at Brian. Brian gnaws his lip and stares back. Freddie wiggles his eyebrows impishly. Finally, Bri sighs, exasperated. “Fine, okay, what the hell, I’ll do it.”

“I’m so proud!” Freddie cries, pressing his palm to his heart. “I am a proud mama.” Brian grimaces as Fred stuffs a sugar cube into his mouth.

“How long does it take to work?” you ask Lavender Suit Guy, feeling no different at all.

“It varies. Not too long, usually.” He whirls, spies someone else he recognizes, waves, and rushes off to greet whoever it is and presumably offer them illegal drugs.

After fifteen disappointingly uneventful minutes of trailing behind the band as they chat with various rich and famous party guests you don’t recognize, you depart to find a restroom.

“Don’t be gone long,” Rog calls after you. John watches with a Manhattan in his right hand. “I don’t want you to be alone if things get...you know...weird.”

“Sure thing.”

You find a small restroom just off the downstairs hallway of the mansion. The clock above the doorframe reads 9:47 p.m. You duck inside, muttering about your first acid experience being a total dud, about defective LSD and Valentine’s Days spent with strangers. As you scrub your hands with rose-scented soap, you glance up to check your makeup in the mirror. Your face isn’t there. Instead, Dominique Beyrand stares back at you.

You gasp, and Dom does too, in that delicate and prodigiously feminine way that she has. You peer penetratingly into the mirror as you gingerly tap your fingertips against your face, which is Dominique’s face now: her olive skin, her high pump cheeks, her large dark eyes like a doe’s, her pink lips. You experiment with a smile, and then a frown; you even emote the same way she does, with a charming candidness, with a rare sort of grace.

Why am I thinking about Dominique?

You’d seen her a few times since Queen’s Hyde Park concert, following Richard Branson around at industry parties and dodging mindless gossip and tedious networking, the same as you. She always greeted Freddie warmly and mostly ignored Roger. He always asked her a few questions anyway, questions you thought he already knew the answers to.

I guess the acid wasn’t a dud after all.

You titter uncertainly. You knot your fingers through your hair—Dominique’s hair—which is thick and glossy and onyx. Her eyes gaze unflinchingly back at you. They blink when you blink.

I have to find Roger, you think suddenly. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know who he’s with.

You spin, wrench open the restroom door, and stagger out into the hallway, your hands pressed against the floral wallpaper to steady yourself. The yellowed, antebellum walls breathe as you do, subtly, sighing as they exhale cool air into the soft clammy skin of your palms. The boards of the hardwood floor clang like piano keys when you step on them. You check the clock hanging above the bathroom door. It reads: 11:09 p.m.

“Uh oh.”

I have to find Roger.

You creep through the hallway as other guests pass you—some zooming by, others moving in slow motion as if they’re treading water, none apparently noticing the breathing walls or musical floor—peeking into each room to see if Roger is there. He’s not in the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, the parlor. Instead there are strangers in all of these places, laughing in each other’s arms, drinking, dancing, touching each other beneath suits and skirts and dresses, smoking cigarettes and blunts, rolling up hundred-dollar bills to snort white powder off silver trays like mirrors.

I have to find Roger. I have to find Roger. I have to find Roger.

In the backyard of the mansion is a cobblestone patio, a garden, a swimming pool which must be freezing but nevertheless has several naked guests thrashing around splashing each other in it, and a bubbling hot tub. You recognize one of the two people in the cloud of mist with their arms resting above the roiling water on the concrete rim. They’re giggling and pointing up at the stars, telling the stories of the constellations, their faces flushed and glistening with steam.

“Hi, Brian!” you cry, relieved.

He turns, sees you, summons a smile; but it’s not a true smile. It’s cagey, it’s dissatisfied, it’s nervous somehow. “Ah, there you are, love.” The girl sitting next to him in the sweltering water is very much his type and entirely unlike Chrissie: tall, slim, blonde, curly-haired. She has a tattoo of a lush, pristine peach on one tanned shoulder blade.

“Have you seen Roger?”

Brian’s brow furrows. “He didn’t find you?”

“Evidently, he did not.”

“Huh. Well, I’m sure he’s around.” Brian waits for you to leave. The blonde girl shoots you a polite but anxious smile. Peaches, you think hazily. Peaches from New Orleans. Just like the girl he told me about when I first arrived in London. Just like the girl in Now I’m Here.

“Bri, come inside with me.”

“I’m fine here,” he replies curtly.

“Bri, please. It’s late. It’s cold. We’re so far from home. There could be sharks.”

Peaches gawps at me, confounded. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brian snorts. “Sharks can only live in cool water. Everybody knows that. We’re perfectly safe. Stay out of the pool though.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

“Good luck locating Roger.” That’s your cue to go.

“Come with me. I’m freaked out. The floor sounds like Somebody To Love.”

“That’s nothing. The bubbles in here play Beatles songs when they pop.”

“Brian...”

“Y/N,” he says harshly, darkly. “Go find Roger.” What he means is: Y/N, get lost.

What about your wife? you almost shriek at him. What about your children? What about those vows that you made three days before Christmas in 1975, the specter of global fame beckoning from the doorway of the Anglican church that Chrissie grew up attending, Roger’s arm tight around my waist and sprigs of holly in my hair?

But Brian already knows about all that, and he doesn’t care.

I have to find Roger.

You leave Brian and Peaches and slip back into the mansion. You search each room as the floorboards shift and chime beneath your feet; now they’re playing the intro to Seven Seas Of Rhye. You realize that you’ve lost your heels somewhere along the way. You aren’t terribly concerned; you have more pressing matters to attend to.

Behind the fourth door you open is a library with books and menacing portraits lining the walls. Everything inside is blue and wibbly and palpably sad. Freddie is slumped on the floor next to a grand piano, his hair in his face, each hand clutching a full champagne flute.

“Darling,” he slurs, thrusting a glass towards you. Fizzy champagne lurches over the edge and trickles down the side of the glass. “Come join me!”

“Is it the LSD or is the room actually that color? I feel like I’m trapped in Picasso’s Blue Period.”

“Do you? It’s all black and white to me. But blue fits. Welcome to my melancholy room.”

“Your melancholy blues,” you pitch with a grin.

Freddie chuckles. “Drink this champagne before I’m forced to pour it down your throat.”

You take the flute and sit on the floor beside him. “Have you seen Roger?”

“I have not.”

“Oh.”

“Darling,” Freddie asks drowsily. “Do you think one goes to hell for being gay?”

“I don’t think you’d go to hell for anything, Fred. You’re too good a person.”

“Ahhhh,” he sighs, dreamily, peacefully. “You are a delight, my dear. Truly. I adore having you around. I do hope you stay with us, even when Roger makes you want to kill yourself.”

“How would he do that, Fred?” you ask softly.

Freddie doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts your hair away from your face, tucks it behind your ear, smiles patiently at you. “I tried to warn you, you know. We all did. I know you thought we were all being insufferable pricks. But we did it out of love.”

“John never tried to warn me.”

Freddie smirks. “Well. He’s got his own demons, doesn’t he?”

You aren’t sure what Freddie means. You down the champagne and climb unsteadily to your feet. “I have to go find Roger now.”

“Of course you do.” Freddie’s umber eyes flick to the ceiling. “Good god, there are birds up there. That is not sanitary. Leave the door open when you go so they can fly away, would you dear?”

“Okay. I’ll love you no matter who you are, Freddie. We all will. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“Will you come with me? Will you help me? I’m worried about Roger.”

“You should be more worried about you.” Freddie waves goodbye. “I have to stay. I’m writing songs.”

“You don’t have a paper and pen, Fred. Do you need them?”

He grins and pokes his temple with a black fingernail. “It’s all up here.”

“Okay. See you around.”

“Au revoir,” Freddie replies, and closes his eyes as he leans back against a breathing wall.

You step out into the hallway and journey towards the main staircase. Someone has put on the new Eagles record; Hotel California rocks deafeningly through the mansion. The air quivers with slow, ghostly notes strummed on an acoustic guitar. The floorboards have abandoned their piano keys and now jolt with each drumbeat. The house has taken on a shadowy, violet hue.

“There she stood in the doorway

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself

This could be heaven or this could be hell...”

You clutch the banister as you ascend, studying each guest that passes you for a familiar face. There are none. They’re all blushing and glassy-eyed and cackling as they paw at each other, ignoring you, not seeing you at all. Emerald snakes dart between their rushing feet, forked tongues tasting the lust and impending amnesia in the air. What happens in the darkness tonight will be forgotten tomorrow. It has to be. All the world’s rules and obligations depend upon it.

“Her mind is Tiffany-twisted

She got the Mercedes Benz

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys

That she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard

Sweet summer sweat

Some dance to remember

Some dance to forget...”

You catch your reflection in the night-draped window halfway up the staircase. You’re you again, not Dominique. Part of you is comforted by that; part of you feels more alone than ever. You stare at yourself, beautiful, extravagant, dusted with jewels and luck. You have everything. You have nothing. You continue up the staircase.

“Mirrors on the ceiling

The pink champagne on ice

And she said, ‘We are all just prisoners here of our own device’

And in the master's chambers

They gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives

But they just can't kill the beast...”

A woman in a shimmering scarlet dress is sitting on the top step and taking a drag off a cigarette excruciatingly slowly. She exhales, the smoke curling out of her red lips like tentacles, her pale eyes tracking you.

“Last thing I remember

I was running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

‘Relax,’ said the night man

‘We are programmed to receive

You can check out any time you like

But you can never leave.’”

You summit the staircase and peer down the hallway to your right. At the end of it is a vast, broken picture window. Cold night wind pours in through the jagged hole in the glass; you can see stars outside. A man is lying on the floor next to the window. You know him.

“John!” you shout, and sprint to his side.

“Hi.” He’s cradling his right arm to his chest. His knuckles are shredded and drenched in crimson blood. Incandescent shards of glass protrude from his hand and glint under the lights. There’s a heavy, coppery, sick-sweet scent in the air.

“John, honey, why would you attack an innocent window...?”

“It wasn’t so innocent. You should have heard what the bastard said to me.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up—”

“Stop,” he hisses when you try to touch him.

“John—”

“No!” he screams, pushing your hands away. “Stop it, just leave me, just fucking leave me!”

You step back, cross your arms over your chest, raise your eyebrows impatiently. “You want to tell me who you’re really so mad at?”

He frowns down at the rug, which is streaked with his blood. “Me, I guess.”

“Well you can be mad at yourself at the hospital.”

“No, no hospital,” he insists.

“Your hand is positively mangled. Your playing hand. You need to get it cleaned out.”

“You can fix it. No one else.”

“Since I’m tripping on acid, I probably shouldn’t be the one to fish glass shards out of your skin.”

“You can fix it,” he repeats, confidently now.

“Fine. Have it your way.” You help John to his feet, lead him downstairs, and sit him down at the kitchen table. You open your purse, unpack your supplies and position them in a neat row, shake out your hands to get them limber, give John a glass of water. “Are you going to have to write whoever owns this place a check for the window?”

“No one knows I’m the one who did it. No one even knows who I am.”

“I know who you are, John. Here comes the lidocaine.” You land a series of injections into the flesh surrounding his wrist, his knuckles, the back of his hand. You pause each time you get distracted by the murmurings of the table, which apparently speaks German. Okay table, this is important, kindly shut the hell up. Danke.

“Ow,” John says lethargically.

“And so what if these people don’t know who you are? Who the fuck needs them? You don’t need anyone who doesn’t know you’re the backbone of this band. Who made the Deaky Amp? Who wrote You’re My Best Friend? Who stays focused and calmly waits for the others to stop bludgeoning each other on a nearly daily basis? John fucking Deacon, that’s who.”

“Yeah. Alright,” John agrees, smiling. “Who needs them.”

“You’re gonna get your moment in the sun, don’t you worry.” You pick up your tweezers and begin plucking slivers of glass out of John’s bloody hand, plinking each into a white ceramic bowl. “Everyone is going to know you one day. You’re gonna spread your wings and write a ton of hits and unforgettable basslines and show the world what a genius you are.”

“Sounds thrilling. I’ll see what I can do.” He gazes down at his hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all now, that’s incredible.”

“That’s the magic of modern medicine.” You drop another shard of glass into the bowl. “How’s your first-ever LSD experience going so far?”

“Aside from the window business, quite well. Better now that you showed up.”

“Sorry. I spent an hour being confused by my own reflection and then tried to find Roger. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“I have not.”

After a while you set your tweezers down on the table and inspect John’s hand closely. “Does this look glass-free to you? My eyes aren’t super trustworthy at the moment. I just saw a fish swim by outside.”

“It looks perfect, in my layperson’s opinion.”

“Okay. Let’s wash and sanitize, then we’ll wrap...”

John follows you placidly to the sink, lets you scrub and towel off his hand, returns to the table so you can bandage it with gauze. It’s quieter in the house now, the guests slowly dispersing, the music turned down and something mellow by the Stones; Gimme Shelter, you think.

“What made you so angry?” you ask him. “You know. Angry enough to assault a window.”

For a long time, John doesn’t answer. He looks up at the ceiling, his gentle greyish eyes chasing something you can’t see; birds, maybe, like Freddie. Maybe he’s looking for the sun. Maybe he’s looking for himself. Finally, he says, very quietly: “I’m just so fucking tired of lying all the time.”

“You never have to lie to me, John.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I do.”

Then you hear a laugh, an untamed one, a familiar one. You turn to John. “Was that just me or...?”

“I heard it too.”

You both leap from the table and hurry after the sound. You burst outside onto the cobblestone patio. Roger is doing backstroke laps in the pool, howling up at the moon. There’s no sign of Brian or Peaches.

“Roger!” you yell.

“Hey, baby! I’m winning! I’m in the Olympics! I made the team! Do you see me winning?”

“You’re totally winning. Please come out before you get pneumonia or attacked by a shark.”

“Shark...?” John inquires.

“I’ve discovered something amazing,” Roger declares, still swimming. He flails his right arm in the air for you to see; the serrated mark that mars the underside appears to be slithering, a snake made of scar tissue and interrupted plans. “When you’re on drugs, nothing hurts!”

“Baby, please come out now.”

Roger obliges, hauling himself up the ladder and out of the pool. He’s still in his black suit; it’s ruined and clings to him and is dripping buckets of chlorine-smelling water. John yanks a towel off a chair and tosses it to Roger, who drapes it over his shoulders like a cape.

“Jesus christ, where have you been?!” you demand. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Roger grins toothily. “A sheer one?”

Despite yourself, you smile back. “Oh yeah. A sheer heart attack. Real cardiac.”

“I had the best idea. Baby, you gotta hear my great idea. It’s so great.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

He lunges to wrap you in a cold, sopping hug. “Everyone’s having babies, right?”

“Uh, well, not everyone...”

“We should have a baby.”

John’s eyes go wide. You swallow noisily. “Roger, love, I don’t think right now is the ideal time to make a decision like that.”

“Why...? Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“If I still feel this way in forty-eight hours, can we have a baby?”

“Roger, I...” You glance to John for help. He raises his hands in surrender, one bare, one clumsily bandaged. You’re on your own, kid, that look says. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. That’s a lot of responsibility. I’d have to stay home with them. I wouldn’t be the tour nurse anymore.” I would never know where you were, who you were with.

“I’ll fly you out to visit all the time. I’ll have to. I can’t do this without you.” His eyes—blue like frigid pool water, like bruises, like dreams—are euphoric, effervescent.

I can’t say no to him, you realize, and it sends a biting shudder up the rungs of your spine. I didn’t just fall in love. I took a fucking nosedive.

Oh, this SO did not go according to plan.

You remember when you first met Queen, how independent and fearless and guarded you had been, how forcefully you had resolved not to put your happiness in a pair of wild, reckless hands like Roger’s.

What happened to that girl? How do I get her back?

And there’s something else, too: a thought you barely recognize as your own. A child would make us permanent.

John is watching you, edgy, apprehensive; but he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. “We can try. If you still feel this way in forty-eight hours.”

“And I will.” Roger’s teeth skate up your neck and he whispers, his breath hot against the goosebumps rising on your skin: “Let me know when you’re late.”

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