#so happy for this little family we're building here
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finally back from lunch. i'm glad the sketches were well received 😭
#very on brand of me to post something and run LMFAO#so happy for this little family we're building here#hope you all know i am reading yr comments and crying 🫶#(i also accidentally ate 2 surprise thai chilis but that's beside the point 🫠)#REALLY excited to actually have a series to work on bc i get to draw so many unique character designs#variety is the spice of life etc etc#also i need. i need to stop only drawing hes and niko (i won't)#it used to take me ages to bust out a single headshot#now i'm taking ages to post stuff 💀#mars.txt#I SAY BACK FROM LUNCH BUT I SHOULD BE BACK WORKING
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Prev
Tim came down the stairs with an empty mug in hand. As he entered the dinning room he found a kid happily eating pancakes. Ah this must be the new adoptee, he thought to himself as he recalled last night's group chat.
"This is not a new adoptee," Bruce said looking up from the boy. Man, Tim hated when the old man guessed their thoughts like that.
"Say whatever you need to convince yourself B," Tim replied with a shrug as he went into the kitchen.
Bruce shouted after him, "He already has a family!"
The boy immediately interjected, "She's not my family silly! She's my friend."
Tim chuckled to himself as he filled his mug and came back into the dining room. "Aw B," he said smugly, "he doesn't even have a family. You're not saying we're gonna leave him on the streets are you?"
Bruce for his part, glared halfheartedly at Tim before turning back to the little boy. Tim also took this time to observe the boy. He believed Oracle had said his name was Danny. Danny was currently happily kicking his legs as he stabbed at his pancakes. Tim couldn't help but note how the pancakes had already been cut into bite sized pieces. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. No apparent injuries or adverse reactions to sudden movements. His clothes were also nice and clean. Probably Alfred's doing. Speaking of the old butler, he came in and set a plate down in front of Tim.
"Oh I'm not-" One eyebrow raise was enough for the young man to shut his mouth. He looked down at his plate only to immediately turn back to Alfred with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Mister Danny claimed it was not fair he was the only one to receive such special pancakes. He was rather insistent that everyone experiences such happiness this fine morning," Alfred informed.
Ah, that explains why Tim had gotten star shaped pancakes. He looked over at Danny who was smiling giddily at him. As Tim took his first bite of pancake, he couldn't help but agree with that assessment.
Bruce cleared his throat. "Danny?" the boy looked up at him. "As you know our... mutual friend left you in my care. As such after you're finished with your pancakes, what do you say I take you back home?"
"Ok!" the boy replied before shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.
"I think I'll tag along too," Tim said. There was no way this little "drop off" was going to go as planned and he wanted to be there to see it. After all, someone had to keep the group chat updated. Besides, he took great joy in Bruce's half perplexed half annoyed expression.
"Don't you have some meetings to attend today?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth, guessing his son's angle. "Nope," Tim answered sweetly. "My schedule's all clear today."
"Fine," Bruce relented. "If you want to come along on this very quick drop off, I won't stop you."
Tim smiled into his mug. This was gonna be fun.
-----
"We're here!" Danny exclaimed as they pulled up to an abandoned looking apartment building.
"Are you sure this is your home?" Bruce asked cautiously. Tim couldn't blame him, this place was on the outskirts of the Bowery and looked like nobody had lived there in years.
Danny opened the door and hopped out. "Yep!" he said. "I know because I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home." He puffed out his chest proudly.
"Right," Bruce muttered pensively as he examined the building.
They all entered the building and began ascending the questionable stairs with Danny taking them two steps at a time. As they climbed, both Bruce and Tim noted how rundown the building looked. Walls were peeling and there was rubble and trash all over the floors. The railing on the stairs looked so rusted that a gust of wind could probably knock them over. Most of the lights didn't work because of one thing or another which luckily wasn't a problem considering it was daytime. But none of that was even the most concerning part. No, the most concerning part was how silent it was.
As they walked down the hall, it was simply too silent. Even taking into account that most people would already be at work right now, it was still too quiet. There was no hint of people coming back from work the night shift. No sound of those staying home sick or someone with a day off. No dogs barked, no cats made any noise. It was an eerie silence that seemed to blanket the whole building. It was unnerving.
Danny stopped in front of a door and opened it with ease. There was no lock or anything. Once again adding to the list of concerning evidence. They entered after Danny to discover a shabby looking flat past the door. There was barely any furniture, and the furniture that was there looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. The floor boards seemed as if they would give way at any moment too. The windows to the far side allowed lighted in but that only served to illuminated the mountain of dust everywhere. The apartment didn't even look lived in. There were no clothes anywhere, no dishes, no sort of decorations, nothing.
Danny seemed undeterred by any of this and happily pranced into a room off to the right. Tim followed him as Bruce stayed behind to look around more.
As he entered, Tim was relieved to find that at least this space looked lived in albeit barely. The bed had Superman themed sheets on it and there was a backpack leaning against the closet. The bed also had a blanket laying on top of it which Danny ran to and grabbed. He came back over to show Tim.
"This is my most precious thing!" he explained excitedly. "My friend gave it to me. Feel it! It's super soft."
Tim knelt down and felt the blanket which was black and had stars all over it. "You're right," he said. "It really is soft." Danny beamed. "Told ya!"
Tim smiled at the boy's obvious excitement despite his less than stellar living arrangements. Just then, Bruce called for him. Tim returned to the main room with Danny in tow, still clutching onto his blanket.
Bruce turned to him and handed him a piece of paper with an unreadable expression. The paper had cursive scrall on it that simply read, Take care of him my knights.
Danny looked up at them both curiously and Tim just sighed. So much for this being a quick drop off.
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How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory
Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?
For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!
First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!
Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.
Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.
Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.
Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.
There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!
Happy writing~
3hks <3
#writing#writeblr#writerscommunity#writing tips#writing inspo#creative writing#writing advice#thank you#how to write a backstory#tips to writing a backstory#backstory#character creation#oc writing#character writing#writing a backstory
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Jealous
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Pernille's a little jealous
Pernille wouldn't call herself a jealous person. She's never really wanted what others had. She's never looked at something someone has had and desperately wanted it for herself.
Similarly, she's never had a problem with people looking at Magda. She's never had a problem with fans fawning over her or some girl trying to dance with her at a club.
Pernille knows Magda loves her. She knows that Magda would never stray. They have you together. They've built a family together.
Pernille knows that you and her are the most important things in Magda's life.
Which is why it's strange that she's feeling jealous right now.
She'd just come in from training, hair slightly damp from the sudden rain shower that appeared and feeling glad she had sent you inside with Magda earlier.
Magda had cut her own session short after feeling a twinge in her ankle so went in to get it taped as a precaution.
The physio's office is where Pernille finds you and her now.
Magda's sitting in one of the beds, leg stretched outwards as one of the new physios massages her leg despite it being an ankle injury that sent her indoors.
You're in her lap and Magda's desperately trying to braid your hair back from where it's escaped from your hair tie.
She's not doing very well. Usually, she'll just throw it up into a ponytail and call it a day but Pernille thinks it's nice that Magda's trying so hard to give you a hairstyle that you'll really like.
It's a brief thought though as Pernille's eyes focus on the young physio.
She's talking to you in particular, nodding along as you babble about what you did last night and how Magda read your bedtime story and how you slept in her newest Sweden jersey.
The physio smiles at you before glancing up at Magda. "You're feeling really tight there, Mags. Really having to use all my strength here."
It's a blatant attempt at flirting as the physio bats her eyes a few times before letting out a groan of effort that could easily be sexual.
It makes Pernille's blood boil. One, because it's very obvious that she and Magda are together and two, that this new physio is using you to try and worm her way into Magda's heart.
She's fawning and cooing over you and Magda (poor, sweet, oblivious Magda) can't even tell.
That's the other annoying bit. Magda has no clue she's being flirted with and that really pisses Pernille off. It's not the first time something like this has happened before either.
Magda never knew when a girl was flirting with her. She never knew until they attempted to kiss her and Pernille had hoped that the years would have made Magda more aware of it happening but clearly not.
The physio giggles again and it takes everything in Pernille not to snap at her.
Instead, she plucks you off Magda's lap without saying anything, adjusting you so you're on her hip.
"I'm taking her home," She says, trying not to lose her temper as the physio inches her hands further up Magda's leg," The rain isn't going to let up anytime soon. Practice is postponed."
"Give me a few minutes," Magda says," We're nearly done here."
The physio pouts and it sends another bolt of anger down Pernille's spine. She doesn't like the way her hand it still on Magda's leg. It's inappropriate for work.
If Magda needs her leg massaged then Pernille would be happy to do it herself at home.
"I need to grab my bag." She says instead," If you're not by the car in five minutes then I'm leaving without you."
Momma walks off without Morsa, who scrambles away from the weird lady who was touching her.
You frown.
Momma doesn't talk to Morsa like that, all angry and annoyed. It's strange.
"Momma," You say as Momma grabs her bag and makes her way out to the car," Why's Morsa not coming with?"
Momma's jaw is clenched. You can tell.
"That's your Morsa's choice," Momma tells you as she straps you into your seat.
She slides into her chair just as Morsa comes running out the building.
She tries to open the passenger door but can't.
Momma's locked it.
"Pernille!" Magda bangs on the window. "Pernille, come on! I'm here!"
"You're late."
"I was just talking to Elizab-"
"Elizabeth!" Pernille snaps and your head ping pongs between them," Well, why don't you go back to talking to Elizabeth while you wait for your taxi to turn up!"
"Pernille! Really? Are we really going to argue right now? I don't even know what I've done wrong!"
"Then you've got lots of time on the trip home to work it out!"
Magda is silent for a while before it all seems to dawn on her. "Is this really about Elizabeth? Pernille-"
"You better not be about to tell me that it's all in my head! Her hands were way too high up to be a massage. In front of Princesse as well! In front of our child!"
"Let me in!" Magda says," I promise that I didn't realise! I thought she was just being helpful."
Pernille draws in a long breath. She knows that she's being irrational but sometimes these things just creep up on her.
She unlocks the car and Magda slips in.
"Hi, Morsa!" you chirp and she looks back to look at you.
"Hi, Princesse."
"Why'd Momma lock you out?"
Magda almost laughs as Pernille's hands clench around the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to drive home.
"Well, I'm a little silly sometimes. Do you know what flirting is?"
You nod. "Like how Sam's girlfriend makes her feel all giggly and silly by talking to her."
"Exactly like that," Magda laughs," Well, Elizabeth was trying to flirt with me but I'm silly so I didn't notice."
"Oh," You say," That's bad because you're with Momma."
"That's right so that upset Momma a little bit," Magda continues," And when I didn't react to her flirting, she tried touching me to see if I was interested."
You frown. "Is that why she offered you the massage even though you hurt your ankle and not your knee?"
"That's-"
"She asked about it in front of Princesse?!" Pernille demands before this whole situation becomes a bit too funny for her liking. "And you didn't realise, Magda? God, how oblivious are you?"
Magda's cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Well," She says," I know you like me hot and oblivious. That way no one can take me from you."
Pernille full on laughs. "As if you would let yourself be taken."
"And Momma didn't like her touching you either?" You ask, your mind still trying to work out what has just happened.
"I didn't like it at all," Pernille says," And I was very annoyed that your Morsa let it happen."
The car is silent for a few minutes as you turn it over in your head before calling for Magda's attention again.
"You should tell Elizabeth that Momma will beat her up if she tries it again!"
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#the big adventures universe
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Before I Leave You (Pt.65)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.
Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,
W/c: 15.0k
A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.
The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.
Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.
God does she know it.
She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.
Red is better color.
She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.
But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.
She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.
Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.
She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.
She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.
“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”
Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.
Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.
A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.
Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.
She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.
Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.
She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.
Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.
She sighs. Alphas and their messes.
In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.
Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.
That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.
She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.
She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.
The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.
He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.
Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.
This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.
Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.
She looks at the flame, sparking.
“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.
Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.
She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.
This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.
And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.
Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)
She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”
“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.
“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”
~-~
(Now, Namjoon)
Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.
It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.
He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.
No.
Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.
Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.
He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.
He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.
Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.
The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.
There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.
"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.
It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.
This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.
If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.
Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.
Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-
Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.
They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.
Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.
He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:
Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).
It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.
"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.
"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.
"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.
He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.
Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.
"I need you to promise."
Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.
"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"
"Just promise."
"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.
"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."
"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.
"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."
Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.
“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.
“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.
Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.
Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.
“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”
It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.
“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."
Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.
It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.
Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.
Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.
He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.
Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,
Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.
You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.
Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers.
He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.
Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)
You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes.
But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.
You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.
Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.
To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.
He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path.
Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.
An alpha. An alpha hunting.
You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.
He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.
His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.
His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.
“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.
“I mean it. Never.”
He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.
“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.
After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat.
Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.
“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.
Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.
He's never going to hurt you. He promised.
He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.
You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.
But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.
“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"
Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces."
"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"
"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."
"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"
Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."
You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.
"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."
"What the fuck-"
Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"
Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"
There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually.
You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.
You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.
"Shit are you okay?"
"Pup?"
"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.
Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.
"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.
When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.
"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."
"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.
"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."
Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.
"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."
You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.
You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”
“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.
Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.
If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.
“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”
Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.
“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.
"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”
Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.
“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."
You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."
Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”
“Oh my god daisy-”
You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."
Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”
Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”
"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.
"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“
Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”
“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.
“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."
You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."
Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."
“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.
The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."
Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.
"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"
Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.
You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"
“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."
The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.
Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.
Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.
“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”
Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.
He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.
“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”
Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.
“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”
“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"
“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.
Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."
Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.
Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.
"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."
Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.
"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.
Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"
Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."
"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."
"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."
"You mean-"
"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."
"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"
“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”
You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."
"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."
Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.
Maybe if he had, things would go differently.
A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."
Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”
Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.
"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.
“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“
"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.
You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.
“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”
(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)
Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”
You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”
“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."
"You've never said-"
Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."
You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.
You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.
You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.
“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"
You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”
Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.
“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"
There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.
Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.
Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.
To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.
The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.
Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.
Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.
Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.
To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.
But another woman? Even one like that?
Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.
It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.
But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.
Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.
By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.
~-~
(18 hours later, Jimin)
Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.
Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.
He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.
Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.
Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.
Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.
At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.
But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.
When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.
The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.
He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.
A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.
It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.
And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.
To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.
Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.
Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).
“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.
"Pup told me everything."
Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.
Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.
"It's okay,"
"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"
That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.
For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.
But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.
Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).
In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.
Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.
It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.
Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."
"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"
Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.
(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).
It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.
It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.
How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.
They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.
Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.
“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”
Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."
It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.
“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”
“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.
Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.
Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"
"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).
“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”
Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."
“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.
"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”
“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”
Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.
“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.
"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”
She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.
“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”
Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.
It stays there.
~-~
The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:
There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.
Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.
There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.
The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.
“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.
Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.
But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.
Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.
They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.
Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.
The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;
Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.
Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.
Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.
Once they're gone, other promises get made:
“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”
“I can ask some of my contacts-“
“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”
“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”
“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”
In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.
"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.
"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.
(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)
You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.
They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.
It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.
“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.
Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"
"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-
"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).
“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.
"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”
“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.
There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.
The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."
You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.
“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.
He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.
“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.
Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.
“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.
“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”
“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”
You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”
But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.
What's more intimate? Sex or murder?
He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.
“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.
Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.
You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.
No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.
"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.
You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.
Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.
You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.
Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.
The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.
It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.
Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.
“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.
You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.
“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.
You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.
Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.
Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”
Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”
“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.
that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.
the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.
It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.
“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.
Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.
It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.
Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.
"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.
You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."
Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"
You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."
Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.
If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.
But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"
You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.
"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.
He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.
There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.
"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.
You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.
"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.
Probably.
"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)
“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”
"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.
You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.
Noodle stops his chomping.
The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.
You freeze where you stand.
The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.
And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.
Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.
It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.
Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.
You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.
Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.
Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.
The danger is all in your head.
Only it's not,
Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.
~-~
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Notes:
There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.
in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.
i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.
on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?
this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.
when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.
it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.
Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3
In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.
although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!
i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.
i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.
i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?
i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.
oh~ shits about to go down~
Mini-Playlist
Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)
Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)
JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)
Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).
#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts gang au#bts mafia au#bts polyamory au#bts au#bts fluff#bts hurt/comfort#bts werewolf au#bts angst bts omegaverse fic#bts hybrid fic#min yoongi fic#kim namjoon fic#kim seokjin fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#jjk#pjm#myg#knj#kth#ksj#jhs#jung hoseok fic#min yoongi x reader#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader
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Message from your inner child
Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language. How to choose? Think of something you liked when you were a child (a game, a toy, a smell, a candy, your favorite stuffed animal) and try to remember you as a kid, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you and your inner child choose the image that drawn to you. Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes. This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go
: ¨·.·¨ :
` ·. 🦋
╱|、
(˚ˎ 。7
|、˜〵
じしˍ,)ノ
TW. Direct or indirect mention of abuse, bulling, violence, familial violence, broken family among others.
Ok, let's go!!!
PILE 1
Hello my friend :) Do you remember how disastrous our childhood was? Do you remember that there were some people who hurt us? Remember when we were pushed aside from parties? Do you remember when we found out that sometimes the "love" of a couple is not two but three? Remember when we found out what infidelity meant? Come, here and close your eyes for a moment, because I want to tell you a secret but I don't want you to see me are you ready? Yes? Ok: the infidelity of our parents marked me
I know since then we don't know what it means to love or how to make a relationship work. I know it's a lot harder for you than it was for me. I know sometimes you wonder if you're loving too little or too much, I know you're scared of being harmed like mom and dad did. Do you still feel that strange feeling of isolating all noise with music or the TV on while we sit on the floor of the room begging for it all to end? I do love you, my friend :) I know it seems a little difficult, I know it seems a little hard to say and hear, I know you may not believe it because they made you doubt what it means to love someone, but, I'll let you in on another secret: I don't feel alone anymore. I've learned that sometimes we have to leave where the water overflows to build a better castle. I learned to be smarter and not to argue when it's not necessary, to stop talking where no one listens, to live with myself and with you.
Please, I know it's not easy, but I want you to start again, on your own, I want you to leave everything behind, to let the dragons (they are not bad I already talked to them and they said they are on our side) I want you to let them destroy what hurts us, and to start building your own fortress. I want to be your first beautiful relationship. I want that you love me because I love you and I will always love you. Please love me, okay? Let's be you and me (km little you, hehe) against everyone. I want to be your partner in crime and have us laugh together. I promise you that after that, we're going to smile more and forget what they did to us.
You also have to eat well, did you hear me? Oh and don't tell anyone, but, I'm craving our favorite sweet treat from when we were little, can you eat it for us?
I'm always with you, don't forget me, I'm you but in little. Oh, something else, let's pretend it's your birthday, yei ! let's be happy for today and close your eyes again and make a wish
Francis Forever Mitski, Innocent Taylor Swift. Grey, Purple, Blue. Leaves & Streets. Orange juice?, Music, Cartoons, Headphones, Magic Wand. Mulan (I'll Make a Man Out of You)
🧸🎂🎈🍫 🧸🪄🎈🍫
PILE 2
Hey!!! What's up, buddy? I am very happy, I feel that I have arrived where I needed to be, I feel that the sun has finally risen, I feel that all the changes I had to go through have now paid off. The knowledge, the peace, the beliefs, everything I needed to cultivate is bearing fruit. See? I even speak as someone cultured and intellectual 😸. At first I didn't notice it, I was incredulous, but then I started thinking and thinking and thinking, and I realized that the change started in the interior. I know, you don't have to tell me, it sounds very cheesy, it sounds silly, but, I must admit, even if it's a little embarrassing, that sometimes dreaming and being cheesy is kind of fun SO DON'T MAKE FUN OF ME 😾😹. Ok, let's be serious, mate. We went through a time where we didn't believe in anything and we didn't even know if we should believe but I kept doing it. I kept looking until I got to where I needed to and BOOM it all made sense. Our lives are going to get better, we're better now, we're brave, we're smart, we're strong, we're cool !! We still have to keep learning, we still have a long way to go, but I learned that learning is also fun. DON'T GIVE UP, OK? Ok. I know it's hard to grow, but we've always wanted this, we've never bowed down, we've never given up, we've always looked forward and we'll continue to do so
Keep in your heart the ones who help you and give you happy moments, then let's continue writing our story
No matter how many steps forward you take, whether it's one or two or a thousand, I'll always be there proud of where you've taken us and what an amazing person you've made us. I only ask you to never forget where you come from and where you are going, don't forget to be grateful, don't play with anyone's heart or time, that's not good 😾. I want you to appreciate the time and I want that, when you think that the world is against you, or that everything is going wrong, you can change it. Don't worry, I don't want you to blame yourself for everything, but I also don't want you to always blame it on others. I know sometimes it's hard, keep trying again and again, even if you're scared don't don't victimize yourself because heroes don't do that, and you and I have the prettiest cape, we have the cutest glitter and we have the best superhero story just for us, and don't be afraid, because superheroes can do anything and if we can't our superhero friends will help us 😼
Let's be great, let's be epic!
Disney, A lot of changes or currently changing something, Happiness, Beach, Comics, Sun, Summer, Ice cream, Watch, Hats, Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride, Hannah Montana, Vacation, Pop en español (Pop in Spanish), Extrovert, Mischievous, Spider man? Funny, Tangled (the movie)
🦸, 👨🚀, 🐱, 🚀
PILE 3
There are two of us, we are yourself and I, and it has always been like this ☺️, do you feel confused? Because I do, a little bit, you won't get mad if I tell you, right? You'll understand, right? I feel like everything is going so fast, I feel like I can't stop, I feel like I want to rest, I feel like when I wanted the geography or math hour to end and go out for recess to get some fresh air. why is everything going so fast? I want to understand what's going on, I want to, I really want to, but I can't. Do you no longer feel distrustful? Do you believe in other people yet? Because I don't do it yet 🥺, do we have friends yet? Or are we still alone? Are they still hurting us? Are we still unsafe? I don't want to be like that anymore, I promise you, (crying?) I want to have a lot of friends, I want to be loved, I want to play, I want to have fun, but I can't believe in others, do you? I don't want to be alone, I know I said it was you and me, and I still believe it, it's you and me against the world, but I also want us to be more against the world. I want someone to turn on the light and hold my hand, would you? I want you to hug me, talk to me, I feel like you're mad at me, at the little you from a few years ago, did I do something wrong? Do you think it was my fault that we were treated like this? Do you think it was my fault that we were disappointed? I'm a little annoyed with you too, not gonna lie. you know what? I was a kid but you have everything to change what happened to us, you pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore and that's a lie! you're still upset and scared, listen, it's ENOUGH! Do something for us. At least I'm angry but I want us to change this, I want us to be happy. I want us to be together and happy, I want us to be one, I want you to remember me, but not only the bad but the good as well, remember what we like, remember the watercolors, the music we liked, remember the sun, the window, remember the yard, remember the stories that mom/dad used to tell us. Remember Mom/Dad. Remember the puddles after the rain. Please, I'm not asking you to want to be a child again to do everything differently, I'm asking you to connect with me so that our creativity flies, so that you know where to go, so that you can start something new.
The magic is in us, accept us, what you don't want to let out, is what makes us most beautiful
You will get what you want, but don't want everything, don't be ambitious. Don't forget us, don't forget you, never forget yourself.
Sadness, Grudge, Sobbing, Poverty (both spiritual and economic), Pranks, Bullying, Grass, Secret place, 8 years? Cold, Scams, Rain, Mirror, Emojis. Monsters, inc. As a child, Madeline The Person. J's lullaby (darling I'd wait for you), Delaney bailey. All I want, Kodaline. Rises the moon, Liana Flores
ꗃ🗝₊˚⊹♡ 𓉞 . ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼
Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. To be honest I struggle being consistent in what I do, but I'm trying (no, I'm really trying) to be more consistent.
Today, is children's day in my country, so I decided to do this spread for you all, because I consider that connecting and embracing our inner child is one of the most healing things we can do. So happy Children's Day !!
Alic (Chanty) 🪽
#tarot#tarot reading#tarot asks#tarot cards#tarot tumblr#tarotblr#pick a card#tarot and astrology#tarotcommunity#pick one#pick a picture
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Hi there! Do you think you can do some found family dialogue prompts? Either big sister x little sister or father x daughter! Thx sm!
Hi there :)
I love found family, but I always find it hard to come up with prompts for that, because the whole trope builds so much on context and longer stories that little sentences never really convey the found family part. But I'll try :)
Found Family Dialogue
Siblings Situation
"Hey, I'm the only one who's allowed to annoy you."
"Urgh, you're truly the sibling I never wanted."
"You're my sister and you always will be."
"Wow, listen to us. We really sound like siblings now."
"You are the best big sister that I never knew I needed."
Father/Child Situation
"I'm happy that you feel safe with me."
"Let them say that we're not actual family. We know it best."
"I will always be here for you. Nothing will change that."
"I wouldn't ever let anyone take you away from me. And I will never make you leave."
"You're basically already a dad. My dad."
"Does that mean I can annoy you with dad jokes now?"
Have fun with the prompts!
- Jana
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Let me love on you a little more (Charles Leclerc)
Sometimes, it felt like what you were doing was a drop in the immense ocean, but Charles always made you feel a little better when you had the chance to go home
Note: english is not my first language. I based this on the news and stories I heard from people on the front line! This is in no way romanticising or summing up what happened, much less downplaying it! I hold huge huge respect and gratitude for healthcare workers!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: Covid-19 pandemic and themes associated with reader being a front line worker as a doctor (mentions hospitals, tests, death)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"You can follow the purple line to the testing site we have here", you told the elderly woman.
"Is it going to hurt too much? My neighbour had to get tested to weeks ago when she visited her family and she said it's uncomfortable", she mused.
"It's a little itchy, I have to admit it, but it shouldn't hurt you, just a little bit uncomfortable, Mrs. Loire", you attempted to soothe her, your usual hand on the patients' arm now a strongly inadvisable way to comfort them.
"Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N", he said, her eyes letting you know that behind her mask there was a big smile on appreciation and gratitude.
Taking temperatures and checking flu like symptoms was not how you thought your medical career would pan out once you chose your speciality, but the new normal was this and you were working your best to do what you got into medicine to do in the first place, improve and save lives.
"How many people have you sent to the testing site?", your colleague Marina asked you when she noticed that for now, there were no walk-ins or ambulances with new patients.
"Just this morning, twenty-five", you sighed, "the closest I got to a potential non-Covid case was the kid that broke his arm, but Ortho swooped him right from me".
"Are you truly so disappointed about not being on an Orthopedics case?", she chuckled, "you hated everytime you had to be on that floor", she argued.
"I'd do anything that isn't watching people die because we don't have enough equipment or because we don't know enough about this disease to stop it", you let your frustrations out.
"We're going to win this, Y/N", Marina squeezed your shoulder, "you're usually the hopeful one on the service, but I can hope for the two of us today", she replied earnestly, "I'm going to have lunch now, do you want to go with me and sit on opposite tables so I can at least look at your face without a mask from a distance?".
"Let's go, I'm starving and I'm going up to the ward this afternoon", you raised your eyebrows, tidying up the station for whoever would cover the afternoon shift there.
As you walked to the area you had lunch in, you were happy to find the sun shinning outside on the green park area where you or the patients' family would take them to get fresh air when they were still admitted and recovering. It wasn't a thing now for obvious reasons, so you and Marina ended up in there keeping a safe distance while enjoying the feeling on the sun on your bare skin.
"Do you sometimes feel like you're losing all sense of time in there?", Marina nudged to the big building, "my mother's birthday was yesterday and I thought it was still a month away - she called me to say she had left a piece of cake for me by my door".
"Yesterday, Charles called me and told me he has going to wash my favourite hoodie of his and then wear it around the house so that by the time I came home it was nice and smelling the way I liked it. Then I reasoned with him that it wasn't this weekend because how could it be? Then I realised he was right", you took a spoonful from the tupperware.
"Are you spending the weekend at home?", Marina asked, smiling at how you seemed to finally be taking care of yourself.
You had been one of the doctors who didn't mind staying for longer in the hospital, reasoning that you didn't have kids and fortunately your family members didn't need assistance so you could cover more shifts and work as much to keep everything running smoothly. It caught up with you as it did with all your colleagues so you set specific times in your calendar where you would go home and, barring any catastrophic situation at the hospital, no one would call you for the days you spent home so you could fully relax with Charles.
"Yes, five days at home and then I'm back", you sighed, "and you? How is your little one doing?", you asked.
"My wife texted me an hour into my shift to say that Milo had a Skype call with his class and their teacher and he said his mama was in the hospital being a hero", she gave you a big smile and looked up to control the tears, "it's hard being away from them, but these little moments help", she added.
"Charles does streams with his friends, and apparently he's always mentioning me and the people on the chat have been very supportive - whenever he calls me he tells me that some fans recognise my voice and my name from the virtual appointments and that they've been here and treated by me, too", you blushed, "He's always hyping me up and I can't wait to be with him".
Stopping by the coffee machine, you both got another expresso shot before parting ways since Marina wasn't on the Covid ward for that shift.
"We've just intubated three more patients", the doctor finished her rounding up to you and the rest of the team that would take over for them, "beds five and six aren't looking good and we've alerted their family members already", he nudged.
Everyone knew what it meant when it came to calling the families, so you nodded, "hopefully they'll get here on time, have them page me downstairs when they arrive, please", you asked one of the interns before you excused yourself to put your personal protective equipment on.
"Is that you, Y/N?", one of the younger kids you had treated said as you got out of the room.
"Yes, it's me! You have a good eye, Arlo!", you smiled before noticing nurse Francesca pulling his wheelchair, "are you going home, sweet boy?", you gasped.
Arlo had been the first child you treated in the ward, only having seen adults up until that moment and it changed a switch in you. A small child struggling so much seemed to shake something inside you, and every time you called his parents with updates, you wished that you'd never have to make the dreaded call.
"I am, my lungs are all good and I'm not warm anymore!", he smiled, "I finally get to go home, my parents are downstairs waiting for me. Did you give Charles my thank you hug for the cap?", he asked.
When you noticed the little boy talking about the last Monaco GP and how he hoped one day he would be able to meet his favourite driver, Charles Leclerc, you couldn't find it in you to keep your relationship undisclosed. So, when you went home the last time, you asked Charles to sign one cap for you and told him to be ready for a FaceTime with the little boy. Arlo was the happiest you had seen him since he had been admitted, lighting up when he saw your boyfriend on the screen and giving him a few smiles despite his tired and sick state.
"I haven't been home yet, but I will give him the biggest hug at the end of the week!", you smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Arlo!", you gushed, making the gesture to blow him as kiss as he waved goodbye.
There were good stories, and even though they in no way erased the sad ones, they helped you carry on with the fight.
Laying on the on-call room after your shift, you took off your mask since no one else was allowed inside it other than you, doing your usual routine and setting your phone in the window sill.
"Hey, amour", Charles said on the phone, "how was your day?", he asked as he watched you towell dry your hair.
"Hey, mon coeur", you offered him a small smile, "I'm so tired I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep in a minute".
"It's okay, I won't mind. Did you get tested?", Charles asked as he seemed to be tucking himself to bed as well.
"Yes, another swab up my nose", you flashed him two thumbs up, "I'll have the results in the morning and hopefully I can get out of here for a few days and spend them with you and not quarantine in a hotel room", you crossed your fingers, "I don't have any symptoms, but still, you never know with this bastard".
"We'll spend it together, amour", he comforted, "I already have a lazy couple of days planned out for us", he smiled as you too tucked yourself on the oncall room bed.
"That sounds amazing", you closed your eyes briefly, "I can't wait to be with you", you yawned.
Charles knew better than to start anything important, just happy to see you were resting, safe and sound, making small talk to lull you to sleep before he ended the call.
After attending the virtual meeting so you could update the next team on how the service was running before you left, the results from test came back negative, which meant you could finally drive home.
Unlocking the door, you stepped inside as you heard commotion coming from the living room, "stay away while I put all of this in the cabinet", you warned Charles.
He was quick to go to the bedroom, getting his hoodie and a pair of shorts for you, "as much as I'd love to hold you all day looking like that", your boyfriend nodded to your figure in just underwear, "I think you'll be more cosy in these", he approached you as you finally let him touch you, his arms going around your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I've missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered.
"I missed you so much, too", you pulled your face away from his chest before kissing his lips in a proper greeting.
Charles guided you to the living room after you got dressed in his clothes, stopping by the kitchen door to check if you had a proper breakfast to which you said yes, so he took you to the sofa, snuggling you two under the blanket as he put one of your favourite shows on the TV.
"I love you, Charles", you would say every now and again, completing the affectionate moments with a kiss or a squeeze.
During the afternoon, you and Charles ended up napping on the sofa, Charles waking up with you still fast asleep on his chest, making him kiss your forehead a couple of times and pull the blanket to cover you up.
"How long was I out for?", you rubbed your eyes two hours later, looking up to see your boyfriend's smile.
"A couple of hours, it looked like a really good nap", he kissed your nose.
"Yes, it was", you squeezed his body, "I'm really craving some carbonara for dinner, do you think we have what the recipe needs?", you questioned.
"We do - I did the food shop earlier this week and I got all of the supplies", he smiled, brushing your hairs away from your eyes and behind your ears, "do you want to get started on it?".
"Yes - I need to pee first, but I'll meet you in the kitchen", you winked, pecking his lips multiple times before getting up.
As he watched you walk to the bathroom, thoughts came flooding in.
This is what he wanted with you. Cosy intimacy that went beyond what happened in the bedroom. The domesticity that went beyond just spending time together and that shines through in the little moments of intertwined routines, special requests and little talks in the middle of the night about random existential questions.
Stepping into the kitchen, Charles gathered the ingredients, pots and pans before you stepped inside too, hugging his waist and nuzzling your face on his back, "you're so comfy, Charlie", you cooed before he turned around so he could face you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing them.
"And you're so gorgeous, mon coeur", he complimented, making you melt inside as you focused on the pads of his thumbs against your skin.
Slicing the guanciale, you removed the rind and cut the rest into small pieces while Charles grated the pecorino cheese and added the egg yolks to the same bowl, the pasta already cooking with the timer on the side.
Scrambling everything into the pot one last time before adding the pasta water a little bit at a time until it was spot on as you liked, making you serve it up in the plates and head back to the sofa.
"Haven't you had enough of the sofa?", you giggled as Charles let you sit before he placed the tray on your lap, doing the same with his own, "I know I haven't had the energy for much else, but maybe tomorrow we can go hike if you'd like", you suggested.
"I want to spend time with you, wherever you are - you're in the sofa, I'm in the sofa, you're in the kitchen, I'm in the kitchen, if you're in the bathroom, I'm in the bathroom", he stated like it was clear as water.
"Maybe not when I'm in the toilet, though, okay?", you squinted as he laughed at your antics.
Charles tidied up after the both of you, sending you to the ensuite bathroom for a bath he'd join you in as soon as he was done.
"You didn't get in?", Charles slumped his shoulders slightly as he saw you sprawled out on the bed.
"I was partially in a food coma, but also - I didn't want to get in alone and the water was a little too hot so I had to let it cool for a bit", you smiled, letting him pull you up and into the bathroom.
Stepping inside the bathroom, Charles grabbed your hips, "let me love on you a little bit more, mon coeur", he said as he pulled you to him, grabbing the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and taking it off of your torso, kissing the skin on your shoulders.
As he stopped his ministrations on your skin, you took the opportunity to take his t-shirt off while you shimmied your shorts and underwear, caressing his muscles before he also took the rest of his clothes off.
"Feels good", Charles dipped his fingers in the tub, getting in himself so he could help you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest.
Your boyfriend brought his hands together and formed a shell shape with them, collecting water in them and wetting your shoulder blades, then letting it cascade down your neckline, boobs and tummy before he let his hands wander around to feel your body, hoping it would show you his love and appreciation for you.
After you got out, Charles rubbed your products on your face, giggling when you made little faces before you put on pyjamas, tucking into bed and cuddling his chest.
"You know I've missed you so much, but our bed feels heavenly right now", you chuckled, kissing his naked chest, "I love you, Charles", you mumbled before sleep took over you.
"I love you, beautiful girl, sleep tight", he whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head before he rubbed your back.
Charles was woken up from your body moving a lot and the clammy feeling of your hand on his chest, looking for your face and noticing the crease on your forehead, "hey, amour", he gently shook you awake, "wake up for me, please, it's okay, you're okay", he urged as you opened your eyes wide as you took in where you were.
"I'm home, I'm home", you mumbled, taking deep breaths like Charles encouraged you to once you sat up, doing them with you a couple of times until you calmed down.
"You are, mon coeur, you are", Charles kissed your forehead when you rested your back against the headboard.
After standing there in silence while Charles played with your fingers on your lap, you were able to speak about it, "I hit five this week", you mumbled, "five people who have died on my watch since this thing started, five family members I've had to call to tell them their loved one didn't make it.
"And it's a small number when you compare it to other countries - so many colleagues are already on their one hundredth, but Monaco is so small", you reasoned, "I haven't had a number this high since I started at the hospital - in my regular service, I never lost five people".
"It's not your fault, amour - a virus is out there and you're working so hard to contain it", Charles pulled you to his chest, rubbing your arm up and down and kissing the side of your head, "the work you're doing with the testing site, making sure to slow the spread and ensuring everyone is as healthy as they can be - you're part of that, Y/N, and even though it doesn't seem like it, you're still winning, you're still beating the universe".
"I couldn't do it without you", you mused and Charles' scoff alerted you, "it's true, Charles! I would never be able to stay at the hospital for so long if you weren't supportive, if you weren't helping my parents and making sure they're doing okay when I can't do it! The way you support me and are there for me - the way your holding me like you always do", you snuggled further into him, "this helps me keep going - you do", you kissed his jaw, seeing his blushed cheeks in the dimly lit bedroom.
"We're a good team then", he accepted the compliment, kissing your temple again, "do you think you can go back to sleep or maybe we could have a chat, watch some TV, have a lazy makeout session", he wiggled his eyebrows.
"That last idea sounds great, I've missed that", you rolled over properly, taking his lips in yours as his hands roamed along your tummy.
#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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Heavy Weighs the Crown
Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.
Chapter One - Sweetpea
Next Chapter >
Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.
~3.4k Words - MDNI
Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.
Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.
You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.
So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?
What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.
You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.
You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”
Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.
“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.
“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.
“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.
“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”
“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”
“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”
You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.
“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.
“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”
“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”
“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.
He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.
“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”
“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”
“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.
“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”
He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”
“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”
“High praise indeed, princess.”
The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.
You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.
You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.
Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.
When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.
You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”
“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”
You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”
The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.
You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”
“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”
“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”
“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”
Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”
“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”
“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”
“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.
You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.
“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”
“She likes it, sir.”
“I most certainly do not!” you protest.
“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.
“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”
Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.
The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.
You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”
You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.
Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”
“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.
“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”
“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.
You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.
Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.
“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”
“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”
“A deal with who?” you ask.
“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”
You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”
“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”
The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”
Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”
Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.
You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.
***
Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4
#Fantasy AU#cod mw fanfiction#x reader#x fem Reader#141 x reader#Heavy Weighs the Crown#Cave Writing#This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately#“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm#Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light
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Boys Are Idiots
Pairing: Eddie Munson x You
Summary: Evil Woman gets partnered up with Steve Harrington for a science project. Which means she has to TALK to him? And be NEAR him? Eddie Munson is NOT a fan.
Contains: Jealous Eddie, Oblivious Steve, Annoyed Evil Woman, Terrified Hellfire.
Words: 1.6k
"Alright, see ya," you say with an awkward smile, going the opposite direction of your new project partner outside the classroom door.
You head for your locker, spin the dial, and pop it open. A Polaroid of you and Eddie falls out. You scramble to pick it up off the floor before someone can step on it and ruin his pretty face. When you stand upright, the boy himself is in front of you… but he's not looking as happy as he is in the picture you've just rescued.
"Why were you talking to Steve Harrington?"
"And hello to you too, Edward," you say brightly. "Hold this." You hand him the picture and start searching your backpack for tape. "We're doing a science project together."
"Why?"
"Because he's smart and popular and I thought maybe some of his extreme coolness would rub off on me," you deadpan.
You take the picture from Eddie and tape it back where it belongs, on the inside of your locker door, and glance at him. He is not happy.
"Or because we got randomly paired up, take your pick."
Eddie crosses his arms and leans against the wall of lockers as you swap out books for your next class. You're not sure why this bothers him so much, but you see a storm brewing on his face.
"We're just partners in a high school science class, we're not engaged, calm down."
He rolls his eyes, and you slam the door.
"K, gotta go, see you at lunch," you say quickly while leaning over for a peck. Your lips meet his, and the issue is forgotten.
Until the next morning, in the parking lot where you always loiter by Eddie's van until the bell, when Steve Harrington gives you a little wave on his way inside. You return it - just a single wave and a half-hearted smile to your classmate and his girlfriend - and Eddie turns to see who you're waving at. His body tenses.
"Relax," you grumble, giving him a playful shove. It catches him off-guard, and he bounces against the side of his van before stabilizing himself.
"He's an asshole," he says simply.
"He's been nothing but nice to me," you counter.
"He's just another rich prick who thinks he's hot shit because he gets to drive Daddy's BMW around town."
"I'm sorry it's not as cool as your trash-filled van," you tease. Eddie's face turns red. That may not have been as funny as you intended. You wrap your arms around his waist and look up mischievously, in hopes of de-escalating your insult. "But I bet him and Wheeler couldn't achieve what we did in here last weekend, in that puny little thing."
Eddie smirks at the memory. Saved by the--
The bell rings. You peck Eddie's cheek and drag him into the building, and that's that.
Until you're spotted talking to Steve on your way out of science class a few hours later. Eddie is waiting at your locker when you get there, glowering in Steve's direction.
You roll your eyes and spin the combination dial on your locker. This is getting old.
"Can you not be a dick, please?"
"How am I being a dick?"
"You know exactly how you're being a dick." You trade out your books with a little more force than necessary. "Now quit. It's not cute."
"It's not cute that Harrington's trying to make a move on somebody that doesn't belong to him."
You turn to him with raised eyebrows and bubbling rage.
"Oh, I belong to you now? Am I your property? Do you have papers confirming your alleged ownership?"
Eddie doesn't respond, so you slam your locker door and head to your next class without looking back.
He's still tense at lunch, but he didn't hide out in the woods to avoid you, so he must not be too upset.
Until you have to break it to him that you and Steve need to hit the library this evening.
"Wanna stop by Family Video on the way home?" Eddie asks, sliding his bag of pretzels toward you. A peace offering.
"Uh… can't today," you smile apologetically as you take a pretzel. "I have to go to the public library."
"Okay," he crunches… suspiciously. "Want me to drive you?"
The boys start to protest, because this change will surely impact their afternoon plans, but Eddie silences them with a wave of his hand and awaits your answer.
"Uh…" you nibble a side off the pretzel. "I'm going with Steve, actually."
His face hardens.
"Don't start," you ask of him. "It's just a stupid science project. I would much rather be watching movies with you, than scouring encyclopedias and cutting construction paper with him."
"I bet that's not what he wants," Eddie scoffs.
"Seriously?" you ask. Are you really doing this? Eddie fixes you with his best glare, and you instinctively match it. You're doing this. "He's with Nancy. I'm with you. And up until very recently, I was quite happy with that arrangement."
Eddie seethes. You finally break eye contact and turn back to your lunch, although you've lost your appetite. Is this about Steve making a move, or Eddie not trusting you?
"What are you even doing with him in the public library that can't be done here?" The way he says it makes you clench your fists.
"You caught me, Eddie. We're actually going to his house to test the effectiveness of various condom brands. Wanna come watch?"
A hush falls over the Hellfire table. You and Eddie glare at each other. And then, in the blink of an eye, he's out of his chair and storming through the cafeteria doors. You close your eyes and breathe out heavily, trying to calm yourself. When you open them again, the whole table is staring at you.
"Shut up," you snap at no one in particular, and begin cramming your - and Eddie's - stuff into your respective backpacks. He'd left everything behind; his lunchbox, his backpack, his jacket.
Loaded down with an overfilled backpack on each shoulder, you head toward the door without another word. You could've sworn you heard somebody mumble "I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight" behind your back, but you don't have time to murder anyone today, so you decide to let it slide. For now.
You have a list of places you plan on looking for him, but he's at your first stop: the van, in its usual spot in the back parking lot. He's perched on the bumper, facing the road; cheeks red, arms crossed, glaring at the ground. You reach into the pocket of the jacket that he'd left behind.
"Forget something?" you tease, jingling his keys to get his attention.
"Fuck you," Eddie grumbles without even looking up.
You're not mad. You don't have a snarky response. You just want things to be okay. You wish you hadn't teased him about Steve Harrington. You wish you'd never been partnered up with him. You wish you didn't even know his stupid rich-boy name.
"I'm sorry."
He glances at you, then drops his gaze back to the ground.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you clarify. You let the backpacks slide onto the pavement. "Not a fan of this jealousy thing, Eddie."
You put his keys back in his jacket pocket and hold it out to him, but he doesn't take it. You take a cautious step closer, drape it over his shoulders, and retreat.
"You've gotta stop acting like I'm gonna leave you for the first jock that learns my name."
"Everybody else would," he mumbles at the ground.
"Everybody else is a cunt."
He smirks a tiny smirk, and finally looks up at you.
"Really, though," you assure him as you take a step closer. "You've got nothing to worry about. With him, or with anybody." You take another step toward him, and he parts his legs so you can stand between them. You close the distance. You're so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body. You want desperately to wrap your arms around him, but you hold back. Not yet. "Why would I want a Steve Harrington when I've got an Eddie Munson?" You cup his face with your hands, and his eyes close.
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. You have nothing to worry about. Say it with me." You squish his cheeks together.
"I've got nothing to worry about," he mumbles with you, through his squished cheeks.
"Good boy," you praise, leaning down to peck his still-puckered lips. When you stand, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him close. He buries his face in your chest, but doesn't hug you back.
"You still mad?" you ask, stroking his hair. One day, you'd probably laugh about the condom comment. Today was not that day.
"Not at my girls," he mumbles into your breasts.
"What about the rest of me?"
He shrugs.
You reach for his hands and bring one to rest on each of your back pockets. "How 'bout now?"
"Hmmm…" he hums into your chest, thinking about it. He gives your ass a squeeze, then he lifts his hands and smacks you on both sides. "Yes."
"What can I do to make it up to you?" you smile, knowing he's almost over it.
"Tell me you want me," he mumbles.
"Of course I want you, you idiot."
He looks up at you and bats those beautiful eyelashes. "Only me?"
"Only you." You kiss the top of his head, then move to sit on the bumper beside him. "I don't want any of those idiots. You're my idiot, and I'm keeping you."
"What if you find someone who's not an idiot?" he asks quietly.
"Impossible," you grin. "All boys are idiots."
#writings of despair#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x evil woman#i'm not thrilled with this#but they're both entitled to be big dumb buttheads sometimes i guess
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Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.
Previous Part: Closing Time
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating
Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"You look cute today."
"Thanks!"
"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"
"Got it."
Every day.
"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"
"Yeah it's at home."
"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."
"Don't worry Eddie."
He reminded you every day.
"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."
"Alright I'll be there."
"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."
"I swear to god!"
Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.
It was cute endearing.
October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.
And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.
Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.
Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.
And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.
But with Eddie...it was different.
A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.
You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.
Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.
Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.
"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."
You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.
"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.
"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."
"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.
They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.
"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."
---
Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.
You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?
Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.
However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.
Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.
"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."
"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.
"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."
"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."
"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."
"Hi."
"Nice of you to finally join us."
Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.
Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.
They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.
Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--
"She's real, I swear."
--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.
"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."
"They are."
"You like hockey."
"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."
You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.
"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.
"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.
---
Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.
"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."
"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."
"More blood! More! MORE!"
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.
A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.
To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.
To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.
Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.
Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.
"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.
"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."
"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."
"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."
"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.
"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."
Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--
"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.
"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."
"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."
"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.
"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.
"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.
"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."
"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.
The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.
"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.
They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.
But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.
"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."
"Impress is a stretch."
"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."
You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.
"Go before I gnaw on your brains."
"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.
"Go!"
---
It was an eventful night.
You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.
The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.
You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.
The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.
"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."
He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.
"Listen to your mother!"
And the nickname just stuck.
Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.
"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"
The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.
After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.
"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.
"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.
"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.
"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."
You both froze and you started panicking.
Why had you said that?
Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.
"Or uh...undeath. Considering."
Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.
---
By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.
"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"
"Of course."
"Enough to do it again next year?"
"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."
"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"
"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"
"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.
"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."
He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.
You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.
You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.
"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."
"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."
He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.
Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.
Hands held comfortably together.
Next Part: Promotion
#Eddie Munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#Eddie muson fic#Eddie Munson stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#Eddie Munson fluff#store manager verse
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Funny Feeling -141
Photo credit: @ave661 (left)
A/N: König will be done in the next post, I'm sorry I couldn't add him to this one..
Not a request but my own need for this:
141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.
----
F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues
----
A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this
"All the signs point to yes, the way you have given me a description and the tests we ran," the doctor breaks the news. "This can't be right? Maybe there was a mistake?" Your hand holding onto your husband's hand. "It's PCOS, ma'am." You shook your head. You read every article, and watched every video, and even though you said your signs must be for something else, here you are.
"What does this mean for her?" your husband asks, knowing you are just trying to find yourself in the void you've been pushed to. "Well it can mean a lot of things, for example..." the doctor's voice fades. Your eyes are on that desk, the lighting of the room only making this news worse. Tears form in your eyes. What does this mean? No family, no picket fence, and Sunday walk with your kids.
You wanted to cry and argue against the results but it's all there in that paper. Your heart breaks and you grip his hand again.
The ride home was silent, he knew it was best this way. You thought of it all, the giggles, the drawings on the wall, the stained clothes, and the staying up late that you'll never get to do.
"We're home," he mentions softly, his hand on yours again as you are lost in thought. All you can do is get out of the car and walk inside. You know it's wrong to push him away but it's the only thing that feels right. Your emotions are all over the place. You feel more disgusted with yourself. The hair that's growing on the chin and chest, the stupid periods you've missed, the weight gain, the way you look around and see everyone building your families and you, sitting in a bathroom, undressed as you look at the weight and wished you were 'better'.
John Price:
The first thing he does is leave you alone. He doesn't know how it feels, however, he knows that if he were in your place, he'd too need some time alone. He knows one thing, if the places were changed, you'd be doing something to make him cheer up, anything. "My love, I'm going out for a few minutes, you need me, I'm a phone call away." he kisses your forehead but when you refuse to let him kiss your soft skin, he sighs and walks away.
They say, to be loved is to be known and he knows you all too well. So, he goes to every store in town, looks for that one book you've been looking for, and then, there it is, the flowers, the takeout and the one blanket you eyed for a little too long when shopping with him.
Meanwhile, in the small bathroom, you lie down. Eyes on the ceiling as you feel yourself cry once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid body of mine. Why must this be your place? Why can't you give him the one chance at happiness? One kid at least, two at best and a stupid family dog that could be running around during family walks.
"I hate you-"
"Love? Hey, open up, I'm home," he says as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. "Go away-"
"Not happening, open up my sweetheart, let me show you everything will be alright," his voice was so soft and gentle.
Once he finally has you in his arms, guiding you to the cosy living room, he covers your eyes and smiles. "We'll talk about this all later but for now, let me release some stress."
"But-"
"Love, no. I'm not letting you think that just because of this condition you are less than any other woman out there. You are so much more than just someone who can give me children. You are this incredibly funny, smart and seriously kind person. You're my girl, nothing changes that, kids or not. Now, let's eat, watch some film I found and then, we'll stay up and talk about today."
Simon Riley:
You've been in the bedroom, looking at the pictures your siblings have sent you of your nieces and/or nephews. Their little giggles, the silly little things they do when they get annoyed when not solving a small puzzle. Tears form in your eyes. "Lovie, I got the bath- Lovie?" His voice was softer than ever. He recognizes that frown and the only thing he can do is walk to you, wrap his arms around you and give you a tight hug. His lips meet your forehead. "I feel broken like there is something very wrong with me," you confess as small tears fall. "You're not broken, lovie," he whispers.
"Well, it feels like I am, everything is wrong with me, I feel disgusted with myself."
He shakes his head, "If there is one thing I've learned is that even if you feel like you are completely worthless, it's a temporary thing. At the end of the day, you are much more than being the one I have a family with. So what if we can't have sleepless nights? You're not here to just be a mother. And, if we want kids, I'm sure we'll adopt or maybe we can search for other stuff- the point here is, you are much more than serving as some womb for our kids."
He kisses picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Now, let me take care of you, okay? You do it for me when I come home and it's time you get treated the same."
One thing with him is that he shows you his true love, admiration and excitement with acts of service. He won't directly tell you all his emotions but his actions do tell you all you need to know. As you lay back on the tub, he grabs your hand and kisses it. "Everything will be alright, I promise you that much," he smiles and slowly scrubs your body, the feeling of the bubbles and warm water soothe you.
Kyle Garrick:
It's bizarre. The rain pitter-pattered against the windowpane as you sat curled up on the sofa, your thoughts a whirlwind of worry and frustration. Today had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. To be diagnosed with this condition had hit you out of a tidal wave, and left you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about the future. Why must you be this way?
Kyle, your ever-supportive husband, noticed the heaviness in your demeanour the moment he stepped through the door. Droplets of rain clung to his jacket as he approached you, concern etched on his features. "Y/N, love, are you alright?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. He knows you, that weak smile falters almost immediately. "It's a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kyle wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. "I know, darling. But you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together, okay?" he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
You nod, feeling the weight of his words anchor to the present moment. You lean into his warmth, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the rain outside.
For the rest of the evening, Kyle made it his mission to care for you in every way he could. He brewed your favourite herbal tea and fetched the cosy blanket to wrap you in it. He listened attentively as you, for so long, poured out your fears and frustrations. In between doubt, he offered words of reassurance.
As the evening goes on, he notices how the weight of your diagnosis left you with a burden. He can see the sadness etched into your features, the worry lines creasing your forehead as you sit and stare into the distance. "Love, what's on your mind?" he asks softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand.
You let out a heavy sigh, and your shoulders slump as you face him, "I just can't shake this feeling off, babe," you admit to him once more, that soft voice of yours tinged with sadness. "It's a lie no matter what I do, this stupid condition will always be a part of me." Tears well in your eyes.
His heart aches at the sound of defeat in your voice, but he refuses to let your despair consume not just you but him as well. With a tender smile, he cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. How can you tell someone you want to listen to and understand them? How can you show love for them when they can't even accept love for something they can't control?
"Y/N, listen to me," he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. "This condition doesn't define you. It's just one part of who you are, love. And it certainly isn't your fault."
You blink back tears, your throat tightening with emotion. "But it feels like...like I'm broken," your voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "You aren't broken, Y/N. Not even in the slightest," he insists, his voice laced with conviction. "You are this strong, beautiful and capable of so much more than you realise. And I will be here every step of the way, holding your hand through it all."
With that, Gaz pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from pain. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, pouring all his love and reassurance into the simple gesture. At that moment, surrounded by his unwavering love and support, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in you.
In the days that followed, he was your constant support and encouragement. He researched PCOS tirelessly, eager to understand your condition better and help you navigate the complexities. He accompanies you to doctor's appointments, holding your hand through every moment. He also made small challenges to not just your lifestyle but his. New healthier habits, medication, self-help books and moments of joy filled your life with him.
John "Soap" MacTavish:
The soft glow of the bedside lamp, once you reach the bedroom, casts a warm ambience in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind clouded with worry and uncertainty. You stare blankly at the floor, thoughts consumed by this condition. It felt as though the world had turned upside down in an instant, leaving you lost and vulnerable.
Johnny, your steadfast husband, watched you with concern from his place beside you. He could see the turmoil written in your eyes. Without a word, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, offering a silent anchor in this storm.
You squeeze his hand tightly, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch. "What am I now, Johnny?" you confess. "It's like... everything I thought I knew about myself has been thrown into question."
Johnny's heart ached, he can't let you suffer alone, not like this. "You don't have to deal with this alone, bonnie," he kisses the top of your hand. "We're in this together, remember?"
You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, but... it's just so hard," your voice trembles with emotion. It's not love if they leave during something so hard, they say. It's unconditional love when they stay, I say.
"I know it's hard, bonnie. But I also know how strong you are," he gives you a small smile. "You are much more than this diagnosis." It's beautiful, how in the middle of this heartache, he still gives you this funny yet warm feeling. "And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, comforting you, and loving you with all that I am," he promises.
-----
A/N: If you have this, I'm always here, it's okay to sometimes rely on others. This isn't something to be ashamed about<3
Tags:
@shadofireshinobi @kit-kats06 @joyfulmarvelofavengers @luvecarson @hilmiponken @asgardswinter @141swhore @miscfandomwrites @itstrapbunnybubbles @rockcollector3000 @certifiedcodbabygirl @eicee @liyanahelena @theineandonlyidiot @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @froggy-anon @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @istillcantfindausername @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @enarien @simonssweetgirl @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @llelannie @macnches2 @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @nyx_flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemicalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus
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Wherever
Fezco x f!reader
WC: 1.8k
Warnings: Smut, no plot just a quick fuck, semi-public sex (staircase sex but nobody actually walks in on them), unprotected p in v, issa quickie, drunk sex, bigdick!Fez lmao I feel like he at least got girth to him yk?, the word cock was used once whoops sorry
(gif not mine. but just look at how yummy he is here. mhmmm)
The two had gone out for their anniversary. Their friends threw them a little surprise dinner at the restaurant they went to on their first date. They'd knocked out four years of marriage and were happy to celebrate the rest of the years to come. It was a fun little gathering of their loved ones surrounding them and reminiscing on old times, how shy they were when they first met and how cute it was to see how quickly they fell for each other.
It was a great night with great food and a few drinks. Maybe more than a few. They didn't drink much they mostly smoked but for tonight's occasion, they switched over. Both were pretty lightweight and found themselves stumbling and giggling with each other, though it made great entertainment for their friends and family.
The party ran late and a few left to return to their own homes but not without congratulating the two on their four years together. By 2 AM it was just Fez, his girl and their two friends Rue and Jules and all four called it a night. Rue and Jules offered to drive the couple back to their apartment considering they were sober enough to drive back. They accepted and sat in the backseat of the car, her head resting on his shoulder as her mind swayed. She was so gone she felt like was in a spaceship zooming through the stars and the planets.
She loved the ride home after a drunken night, it was so quiet and calming especially with the window down. Fez's head tipped back against the headrest, whispering to himself that he'd never drink again. His hand rubbed small circles on his girl's lower back, his fingers following the curve of her behind when he dropped his hand further he gently squeezed and smiled lazily. He was so lucky to have her.
After what felt like a short ride they were finally in front of the apartment building. "Sure you guys don't want us to come with you?"
Fez scoffed. "Nah, we're good, text us when you get home." The girls wanted to protest about his slurred sentence and wobbly stance but bit their tongues, they'd at least wait until they got inside the building. They said their goodbyes and waited for them to tap their keycard to get past the second door which they successfully did. Fez and his girl stumbled over to the elevator, pressing the button to go up numerous times but none of the doors would open. Fez squinted once he noticed a piece of paper on the silver door.
Out of Order.
Well, that was just great. "We gotta take the stairs, baby." He giggled. She groaned and trudged to the door leading to the staircase, silently thankful they lived on the fifth floor but it was still a lot of stairs and she was wearing heels. She held onto the railing for balance and walked up the first step with Fez not too far behind.
They climbed up as fast as they could to the second floor, she stopped and rolled her eyes, this was not an ideal situation to be intoxicated. Fez, however, seemed to be entertained. Her dress was riding up with every step, no matter how many times she pulled it down it slid back up and at some point almost bunched around her hips, exposing her supple skin under the material. He wanted to bite her, he was quickly growing hard in his pants, temptation in front of him and he was ready to give in.
He reached out, fingers gently brushing her skin. She turned around and smiled. "Can I help you?"
"You have no idea." He replied lustfully glaring at her through low-drunken eyelids, his eyes no longer blue due to his dilated pupils. Her eyes widened at him and she turned facing forward to hide her blush. It did make her put an extra sway in her hips.
Third floor.
Two more flights of stairs and they'd be home, and he'd have her all to himself, naked and whimpering... moaning... crying for him. "Let's take a break."
She stopped on the platform where the entry to the third floor was. "Tired already?" She joked, she needed a bit of a break herself because these heels were killing her. She rested herself bent over the rail, the bottom of her dress rising once again, her little black panties on display for him.
She could feel his attentive gaze on her. She pushed back for him, he walked closer to her his calloused hands reaching out for her smooth and soft skin, his fingers coming in contact with her hip squeezing them hard enough to leave little prints. She hissed looking back at him. "Come on, just a little quick one." She whimpered saying aloud what they were both thinking. He smirked dragging his finger along the line of her panty following the trail down to her wet heat.
He looked up at her through his bushy, but well-trimmed eyebrows. Keeping contact while he moved the material to the side. She swallowed a moan feeling the cool air hitting her clit causing her to clench around nothing. "Always so fucking pretty," He muttered taking his thumb and guiding it between her folds collecting her slick. "And wet, for me."
"Fez..." Her voice warned. "I don't care if anyone sees us." He admitted with a shrug. She pushed back against him once more feeling the tip of his thumb tease her hole, he angled his thumb and gently thrust it inside her. She softly gasped moving her hair to the side to get a good look at him, so focused on her pretty pussy leaking out for him and he'd barely done anything.
He used his free hand to undo his belt, the thud of everything falling onto the floor echoed off the empty walls. She moaned at the sight, how hard he was, so stiff the tip of his dick had gone from pink to almost red-- sticky with his own arousal. Her mouth watered, tongue begging to be wrapped around him but they'd get to that once they got home. He removed his thumb sticking it in his mouth for a little taste of her, he hummed in satisfaction. She whined internally begging him to hurry up, he delivered a harsh slap to her ass which earned a squeal from her desperate lips.
"You keep doing that imma put it away."
"Sorry." She mumbled tugging on her bottom lip. He chuckled at how quickly she retreated, he positioned himself at her entrance, running his aching tip through her juicy folds, he finally found his way inside-- slowly sliding into her warm and welcoming cunt. She placed her hand over her mouth to squash the upcoming erotic sounds she wanted to make, he stretched her out completely, his faint veins coinciding with her soft walls. Fuck.
Fez pushed the dress up further so it was resting in the middle of her back, he looked down at the tattoo she had recently got done and groaned, one of his favourite things to look at was the artwork displayed on her beautiful body. He could feel her clenching around him already, she always came a lot quicker when she was out of her mind. He buried himself deep inside her earning an audible moan.
He pulled out and pressed back in. "Ooohh, fuck!" She broke. "That's it. Let everyone hear you, ma." He held on to her hips giving her some deep strokes, she gripped the railing looking down on the first floor in hopes no one would come upstairs. Fez grunted, she was coating him in her creamy goodness, her gummy walls enveloping him in pleasure. His tip repeatedly bumped against a certain spot within her and her body responded positively.
The sounds of skin-to-skin contact, the slapping and pornographic moans from both parties echoed through the staircase and probably made their way through the walls. But who cares, she was getting dicked down, her arousal dripping down her inner thigh. Her whimpers caress his ears as an encouragement to keep his rhythm.
"Fuck, fuck, yes Fez! Give me that dick." She egged on feeling her climax getting closer, she moved her left leg onto one step allowing him further access, his heavy balls slapping against her clit was an additional sensation her body couldn't take. Her eyes rolled back as he continued his assault on her, penetrating her every need.
Fez growled as his hips picked up their pace, snapping into hers in a desperate need to meet his end. "I can feel it, baby, come for me." She playfully giggled stealing his usual line. He pounded into her, reaching under her to toy with her clit. "You cum first, pretty girl." He retaliated, her body shivered, a tingling feeling creeping up in her toes and fingers. Her mouth was agape as her back arched, he leaned forward pressing his chest against her. "Yeah? Yeah, I fuckin' see you, baby. Don't worry."
"Oh my god! Fez! Fuck... me-" Her body stilled, her eyes squeezed shut while her orgasm took over her body, constant convulsion around his dick pulled him closer to the edge. "Ah, shit." He croaked before succumbing to his own pleasure, squirting his hot cream inside her. They panted slowly letting go of each other. He chuckled pressing a kiss against her neck and another behind her ear. "You good?"
"Fuck... yes." She sighed in satisfaction. Fez carefully pulled out and looked at the door to see if anyone was standing there watching but they were good. He quickly stuffed his half-hard cock in his pants and re-buckled his belt. He watched as she fixed herself too, pulling back down her dress and turning to him with a pout. "What?" He asked. She looked down at her feet and back up at him. He smiled shaking his head. "Fine." He took off his shoes sliding them over to her, she stepped out of her heels and into his big-ass dress shoes that she bought him. He held her heels in his hand and pressed a kiss on top of her head. "You ready to go?"
She nodded looking up at him but her eyes widened when she saw past him, there was a camera... a little security camera in the corner above the door. "Oh.. shit." He said seeing it too. "Well, I mean it already happened." She laughed. There wasn't anything they could do about it, at least someone got a free show.
"Hm, glad to know that after four years you're still down to do it anywhere." He chuckled heading up the stairs.
She smirked. "We might need another break on the fourth floor."
"Baby..."
"Fiiiiine, we'll wait until we get home."
if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic
comments and reblogs are appreciated
peace and love see you in the next one🤙🏾
🏷 @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb
tagging who might be interested: @bigenergy777
#fezco euphoria#marleywrites#marleysfanfictions#smut#fezco fic#fezco smut#fez x reader#fem!reader#euphoria fanfic
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Arranged Marriage
(Part 01 / ?)
(Niko Omilana x f! reader)
Warnings : None
Summary : In order to be the grateful daughter, you have to comply with your father's request. But what is it?
"WHAT!?!!?", you stand up abruptly, question whether you had misheard the sentence.
"Y/n, you're gonna listen to your father, we're not going to argue over something as trivial as this". Your stepmum, Ryona, interjects rudely as she pulls a chair and sits down.
"TRIVIAL?", you exclaim.
Why did she care, you ask? Nope, I don't know either.
"Dad, why are you doing this? I mean give me a proper reason at least. You can't spring up a topic this serious and tell me to go with it." You try pleading with your dad, but he remains unfazed at your outburst.
"We've always wanted the best for you y/n. I've given you everything you wanted, done everything you asked me to. And when I tell you to say yes... You question me as your father?"
Your eyes drop to the floor. It was true. Your father was an amazing man and an even better parent. A sense of shame crawls through your spine as you realise just how much you owe him. He had done so much for you, yet you couldn't agree to one thing he had asked?
"Dad please, this is so stupid. I don't want to be married right now. I just started my career-", you reason.
"Making little videos isn't a fucking career, Y/n. Maybe you're pulling a few hundred dollars here and there, but that doesn't mean that this is a stable job. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to tell people that our daughter makes 'videos' on the internet. I mean even the phrasing of it is absolutely hysterical and shameful!" Ryona finishes her comment with a quick glance at her husband, motioning for him to speak.
"Y/n, please... ", Your dad looks at you with hopeful eyes. What you failed to notice was how that man's eyes filled up with tears as you sighed and started walking towards your room.
.
.
.
The following week was uncomfortable. Whenever you came down for breakfast, they'd stop talking. They'd drop whatever the hell the were doing and wander off somewhere else. I mean, you were used to Ryona pulling shit like this all the damn time, but not your dad.
He avoided you like the plague. This had gone to such an extent that the old man couldn't bear to be in the same room with you, avoiding your eyes everytime you tried to speak.
Perhaps it was how they treated you, or perhaps how that bizarre idea had implanted itself into your head. You weren't interested in anyone, and god forbid to say that you didn't have any personal goals to hit. You'd love to have a family, you'd love to have someone at home, just for the sake of it. You'd build the family you could never get as a child.
But how?
The were talking about marrying you off.
Or that's how you heard it.
Yeah, Definitely marrying you off.
But how does an option like that sound so much better than living in this hell hole.
Fucking hell.
It's been one month, that your dad and your stepmum have completely iced you out.
.
.
.
"I'll do it". You state, matter of factly, raising an eyebrow as your 'parents' turn towards you. They weren't gullible, they knew what you wanted to say.
"Y-you'll marry him? You'll marry Nikolas!", Your dad pulls you into a bone-crushing hug which you don't return. How could he be so happy at the thought of his wife sending their child away to a man they don't even know.
Well, they know him. You don't.
He's the son of your dad's bestfriend. Of course the know each other to an extent.
Whatever.
You had dug your own grave, might as well get it over with.
"But, I can't just say that I'll get married to him? He has to agree in order-".
"The boy has agreed a month ago. It was YOU who kept stalling the wedding. How long were you planning on doing this? Don't you see that we have an image to maintain? Now stop your wailing and mentally prepare yourself. You'll both get married in a week's time. I'm calling the Omilanas and confirming". Ryona makes herself very clear, making it painfully obvious that they were going to get you married forcefully if you didn't agree otherwise. Or else how could they manage a whole venue within such an acute time frame?
You nod weakly and head back upstairs, feeling defeated. Your future was written already, your yes meant NOTHING.
.
.
.
You've heard of him. He's big on YouTube, people in his comments often ask him to collab with you. You'd be lying if you said your comments said otherwise.
Oh how'd the internet would have an absolute field trip if they found out that their two favorite creators were about to me married.
Well....married for the sake of marrying.
Married for the sake of a title.
Married for the sake of your father.
You look at the dress and accessories you had picked out and sigh into your hands. It was happening.
Your wedding........... was tomorrow.
#betasquad#beta squad#betasquad x reader#beta squad x reader#niko omilana#niko omilana x reader#sharky#sharky x reader#chunkz#chunkz x reader#king kenny#king kenny x reader#aj shabeel#aj shabeel x reader#ukyt#uk#ajshabeel#uk youtubers#ajshabeel x reader#arranged marriage
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-The Seven-
Serious:Somewhat single moms-Pt 1- Bolivia flage cape and a black suit .☟ _The boys x reader_
-Homelander- John x black! Fem! reader
Summary: Y/n is South America's number one. Hero is in a group called Patina, and she has been sent on a trip to North America. To meet the Seven for a National But her representative wants her to get close with Homelander.
Waning: bad language, Angst, reader being Sexualize.
Set in: it's the plot so don't come after me if I redo it.
@z3r0art
Seva Airlines is the plane that Y/n and her lower Supes know as patina. We're on to make it to North America to meet the Infamous Seven. Y/n didn't really care all that much she had her representative Steve up her ass about this opportunity.
For three months. The persistent Bitch really pushed that it would help with her look as a Hero and get her more Points.
Y/n was somewhat like Homelander, just female. She was just better at pretending to smile waving. But she hated having to smile all the time. It was exhausted. Her smiled and would always fade after the currents fell. Like she had ever smiled ones.
Now her was going to meet the men of America and his side show. She was only somewhat happy to meet Starlight. A new hero So much potential That made fire strom have a little bit more hopeful in the world.
Steve had told Y/n that Vought wanted to have a National Superhero Appreciation. Or Nsh, the plane soon landed on top of the vot building y/n slow stood up and walked out the plane with a small smile. To keep up her illusion of being happy, she could see Ms. Madelyn Stillwell and she big white women smile on her face.
" Patina. The heroes of South America welcome to Vot I'm Madelyn Stillwell." She says,"Were glad to be here." Y/n says as Madelyn walks them into the blinding. She slowly.
and fucking your Secretary kind. " This with be your freedom room. Basically, what im saying is that you can do whatever in here." She smiles she walks out.
Y/n sits down at the head of the table with a smile that makes everyone tense up. " Sit down." She says, and they all slowly sit down.
" So does everyone have something to say. Questions, concerns?" Y/n says," Why the hell are we here? I know that's what we're all thinking." BB says
-BB- Ballon boy. -Jimmy Hall - power: immoral.
" That is a good question. we are here for National super hero day." Y/n says," What the hell does that mean?" BB says," we walk around a bit, help the seven if needed, and just breathe air." Y/n says. Everyone looks at each other, and they agree on how easy it is. " Oh, and hear are your keys." Y/n throws five keys out to her team. " For what?" BB says," Your rooms." Y/n says in a soft tone. " There on the fifth floor." She smiles." Now, all of you go." Y/n says in a cold tone. They all sigh and whisper to themselves about how dumb this was. Y/n slowly turned her head to the side. " BB, what do you want?" She sees him sitting on the table." What ya thinking about, doll?" He says " How to quit." She says.
" You could just retire." He says. With a smile," You and me both know what that means. I go into some cold old room little nowhere to be tested on." He nods." You can start a family. That's what Liya did, and I still see her." He says,
" Maybe. "
•┈┈┈••✦ 🔥 ✦••┈┈┈•
Y/n leaves the room and walks over to the elevators and waits for it where she hears someone walking over to her and the elevators. She looks over to see Homelander walking over to the elevators. " shit." She whispers. Homelander walked up to the elevators, and they opened. "Excuse me." He says y/n looks back." Oh, sorry." She smiles he walks in first.
Homelander slowly looked down at y/n and her outfit. The boob window and her Bolivia flag on her back. Her black suit on her skin was tight and small, mostly around her back side. " Nice ass." He said with a smirk with a look of contempt as he looked at her.
The ends of y/n's hair are set on fire, her hair Indulgeinng in the red flames. " Thanks, I guess. " y/n was creeped out and taken a back. How could he see her ass? He looked at the fire at the end of her hair and then back at her, "No problem." He says."So. Why are you here?" He asks her.
" National super hero's Appreciation Month." She says," So you're a part of Patina?" He asked." Actually, I'm the leader of Patina." She says," Well, it's always nice to have younger heroes as leaders. " y/n chuckles. He was trying to butter her up. He turned his head back to he and then smirke. "So. You can control fire?" " Yes." She says." So. You're like the strongest superhero in South America." He asked her, and he wanted to know everything about her." You could say that." She was trying to keep dry a conversation.
Homelander thought for a second before speaking, "I'm surprised I know of the group Patina. You know most people can't name a single group from South America." He says in a sarcastic manner. As if South America was beneath him, "But I guess you didn't tell me your name?"
Y/n give him a what the fuck look trying to overlook how disrespectful that was. " My real name?" She says,"Yeah, your real name?" He said in an annoyed fashion, waiting for her answer. " y/n no last name. " She says," That's interesting. " he says Try the sound disinterested. "I'm curious. How much is Patina respected in South America?" He said, wanting to see if her pride was big like Homelander's " as much as the seven is in the States." She says.
"Oh, I see. So Patina's just as big down south as we are up here in the States. Is that what you're saying?" He said, trying to gauge y/n to see if she had a big ego" yeah." The elevator stops, and she walks out. Homelander follows y/n and catches up to her. "So. Let me guess, y/n ." He said, walking up next to her."You just happen to have the most beautiful ass in all of South America." He said, wanting to see her reaction to that.
" I thought you dropped that conversation." Y/n says, walking past Madelyn Stillwell's Office.Homelander chuckled and shook his head."Come on, y/n. Who doesn't love talking about a beautiful ass. Especially one like yours. I mean, look at that peach." He said, touching her ass over her suit, smiling while he does it.
She grabs his hand, her eyes turning eye. " Don't touch me." Y/n says her hand, burning his suit arm slightly.
"Aww. Come on, y/n, don't be like that. My hands just so happened to wander over there. Don't be so uptight." He said in a sarcastic manner, keeping his hand on her ass " Oh well, my hand wandered to your face." She slaps him.
He stood in shock as he rubbed his cheek with his free hand. He couldn't believe she had done that. But then he took a deep breath and regained his composure and took his hand off her ass. "What the hell?" He screamed at her."How dare you lay a hand on Homelander. I am the most powerful superhero in the god damn world." He yelled in a scary, intimidating tone at her." Do I really give a shit?" She thinks," Oh, I don't."
Homelander took a second to process what she told him, and then he got angry again. "I am The Homelander. You show some respect. "He yelled at her in anger. He wanted her to beg for his mercy. He wanted to scare her, but she wasn't showing fear. It was pissing Homelander off.
" Oh, stop it, you're just as broken and damaged as everyone else." Earlier that day, y/n Looked at John's File or his life story on a paper.
Homelander grew very angry as he took another step closer to y/n. He was now in her face with the heat of his breath hitting her lips. He looked down at her and took another angry breath. "I am a god compared to everyone else, and you should respect me." He yelled at her with no fear of what she would say in return. He was the most powerful being in existence, and she would not cross him.
Homelander didn't seem to notice the haft Chub he was getting. Was he fucking turned on? " Well, I guess.''god'' has a boner." She pointed out his pants.
That caught Homelander off guard, and as he looked down at his pants, there was indeed a boner starting to show through his pants. "What the..." He began to stammer, looking at y/n. Her face was still, and she didn't give any response."That's normal." He says, trying to change the subject to something less awkward.
" it shouldn't be. You shouldn't get a boner when you yell at me." She was speaking Facts.
He cleared his throat before saying, "Hey, it's common for a man to get a boner when a hot woman is standing in front of him." The words come flying out of his mouth quickly as he realizes he just said what was on his mind."You're hot." He said awkwardly.
That was out of character. " And you got that from yelling at me?" She says. "No, I mean... I just look at you, and it happens." He says with a smirk, he was enjoying talking to y/n, she was the first woman to actually talk back to him. And it made him want to keep talking to her. Something he wasn't used to, he was attracted to y/n, and he knew it.
She rolled her eyes and walked away."Wait! Y/n, where are you going? Don't go, I want to keep talking to you." He yelled after her, not wanting her to leave just yet. She just continued walking.
"Damn it." He said to himself, he was actually enjoying talking to y/n, and she had to ruin the moment for him by walking away."Well, I hope you have a nice night. And by the way. You do have a nice ass." He yelled out to y/n as she walked. "Nice and fat." He whispered to himself as he watched her leave.
A/n: I'm so happy. 😁 thank you for your support. Love you guys.😘😘
Next pt:
#Spotify#x black fem reader#x black reader#x reader#homelander imagine#homelander x reader#homelander#homelander x y/n#homelander x oc#the boys imagine#the boys x you#the boys x reader#the boys#Homelander x black reader#my ocs
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Birthday of 2024. - Kim Mingyu
18+ / mdi
summary: it´s your boyfriends birthday, you decide to suprise him.
Well the night gets pretty steamy.
content: Mingyu x female reader, smut, doggy, mention of nudes, party,alcohol, voyerisum, outdoor sex.
wc: 2.1 k
a/n: I had this in my drafts for a while, I know I am a little late but, better late than never.
Happy birthday to my lovely Gyu.
"I know Baby, I'm so sad not to be there," you answered through the phone while grabbing your bag, trying your best not to sound so stressed. "But I'll call you later; I need to go " You needed this call to end; your train will come soon.
"I love you, Baby" his deep voice rang through your ear "I love you too Gyu, enjoy your night out with the Boys, and have a little fun for me." With that, you ended the call.
You hurried towards the train station, taking the train to Seoul. You were on the way home to celebrate your boyfriend's birthday, his day, but he thinks you're still on the work trip.
But luckily for you, you could come back home earlier. Normally, your boss would not want you to drive home after work on a Friday because you were tired after starting work so early; it's a rule in your company, but the thought of your Boyfriend made you wide awake, and you tried your best to explain it to your boss.
Luckily for you, he directly agreed; he knew Mingyu and they often went out for some drinks and to watch football.
Mingyu will be out tonight with all his friends, drinking and having fun, and you will join later.
The time frame was strict but you will make it.
Not even two hours later, you were dressed in your newly bought red tight dress wearing some jimmy choo heels.
Your hair was in curls and falling over your shoulder. After applying your lipstick, you smacked your lips and smiled happily.
Red, Mingyus favorite color.
The cab was already waiting and you grabbed your clutch with the key cards for the hotel.
"To the Hybe building please" you told the driver and he nodded "it will take about 30 minutes" he then told you with a smile.
"Perfect thank you"
You grabbed your phone and looked at the stories some of the members had posted, Mingyu was clearly drunk by now and you giggled, drunk Mingyu was always clingy and full of love,Seoks storys were full of Mingyu clinging onto Han or Chan.
You put your phone away and looked out of the window, watching the skyline of Seoul with curious eyes; you would never grow tired of it.
It's been 4 years since you've come here and 3 years since you started dating Mingyu.
You were directly smitten by him when you met him at your workplace. You were helping at a bakery at that time, and he was there with his best friend Wonwoo. You noticed his gaze on you until they left.
Not only that, but you noticed him coming back for days, and then he asked you out for dinner at his favorite Italian place. Quickly after that, you were officially dating, and you met his family and friends.
For your luck, you were happily accepted by them all.
Kim Mingyu was your happy place, and you were thankful for him.
"We're here," the taxi driver announced, and you grabbed some cash with a tip. "Thank you so much; have a nice evening," you said while getting out and closing the door.
You could already hear the music blasting from inside so you quickly walked up to security "on the list?" the tall man asked "Y/N Y/L/N" you answered, and he quickly nodded "go straight in" you thanked him and walked inside.
You looked at the time and there was only 1 minute left, you looked around for your boyfriend and it was not that hard.
Kim Mingyu would always own the spotlight for you; he lights up the room for you and you smiled seeing his friends count down until it was midnight; they all jumped onto him, and he laughed out in joy.
This was the first time in two years he actually celebrated his birthday.
It was a rough time for him seeing his best friend unhappy on his birthday. But this year Wonwoo decided that Mingyu deserved to be celebrated.
And seeing Wonwoo smiling so bright was just the cherry on top.
You waited for a small moment standing at the bar when Seok whispered something in his ear, and his eyes widened, and his gaze fell on you.
His eyes sparkled, and his smile was on full display.
Before you could react he walked towards you with long strides.
Let me tell you one thing; Kim Mingyu is majestic with each step he takes.
„You came" he whispered, taking your face in his hand, kind of like he couldn't believe you're actually there. „Happy birthday, my love" you smiled brightly at him, and he kissed you.
His one hand still on your shoulder the other on your lower back pulling you close, his scent hitting your nose, and you grabbed his shirt trying to pull him even closer.
„God I'm so happy you're here" he said, leaning his forehead against yours, and you blushed „I would never miss your birthday, love; you're too important for that” he grinned and pecked your lips again, you could kiss him for hours.
„Let's meet the others” he took your hand and guided you towards his friends „Y/N" Jeonghan said smiling and giving you a tight hug, it's been a few months since you last saw them so you felt incredibly happy about seeing them.
But shortly after Mingyu twirled you around that your hands landed on his chest "let's dance baby" He slurred, and you felt his drunk cheery aura "Whatever the birthday kid wants" you grinned, and he guided you towards the dance floor "You look so good in red baby... you know that red lingerie set I bought you? It's my favoriteeeee" he said into your ear while kissing it afterward, "I know Gyu" you giggled.
The song changed and Mingyu was now behind you his one hand wrapped around your stomach while the other was holding his whiskey glass "to my fucking beautiful girlfriend" he said while lifting his glass and the people around him cheered "it's your day stupid" you said laughing "to my fucking handsome boyfriend" you cheered, and the people joined.
You were never the biggest party animal, but with the 13 guys it was surely a lot of fun, the all jumped around and danced around, and Mingyu felt alive with them, and when your boyfriend was happy, you were happy.
Before you could even think deeper about this, you felt his soft lips on your neck, your weakness, and he knows it.
Combines with the alcohol this was not good, you turned around just to see his darkened eyes "Let's go home baby" he pleaded, and you bit your lip "already? You don't wanna party anymore?"
"The only thing I want to do right now is, fucking you until you're crying out my name" he rasped into your ear, and you felt the heat rising to your cheek "I know you missed my dick like I missed your tight little pussy" his hands were grabbing your ass and a whimper escaped you "then let's say goodbye" he smirked at your horniness and you both said goodbye.
You called for a Kakao while leaning against the prick wall "god damn my cock is hurting" he groaned and you giggled "I mean you basically caged it in those thight jeans" your hands was caressing his thighs "fucking skinny jeans Gyu? You know that your thighs are my fucking turn on" he grinned "all yours baby" his hand was slowly getting around your neck "but I know your favorite body part is my dick" Your eyes looked into his "It's beautiful" you agreed and palmed it over his jeans.
"Can I fuck you here? Please" he was drunk and desperate, it was insane thinking about fucking in an alley waiting for your taxi.
But Mingyu and you were never normal when you were horny, Mingyu introduced you to his outdoor kink at the beginning of your relationship, and you tried it with him.
You always made sure it was decent, that there was nobody around, but right now as he was pounding in to you while holding you up the wall, all of those concerns were gone.
You moaned into his ear, and he let out some groans, you felt the alcohol because both of you were sloppy while doing it, Mingyus thrusts were irregular, and he was furrowing his eyebrows, you were not caring about anything but Mingyu stretching you completely.
As you looked to the left you saw the taxi coming closer "Gyu we need to get the taxi" you giggled, and he nodded softly, pulling out. You both pulled your clothes to the right places, and you walked towards the car.
The entire right you both were just dozing off, and you both became a little more sober. "I can't believe we did that" you whispered, and he grinned "that was hot baby!" he admitted, and you blushed like a little kid.
He parked in front of the Plaza Hotel, and Mingyu looked at you, confused "What? It's your birthday; let me spoil you" He raised his eyebrows at that, and you paid the taxi.
The check in was already finished so you both went straight to the elevator "we could've slept at home love, this is too much" another Mingyu habit, he never wants anything, but he will spoil everyone around him.
"Baby you spoil me all the time so I want us to enjoy this, Wonwoo wanted to leave but I told him that I really want to be in an Hotel" You sheepishly said "my boss paid for the room because I helped him so much, so dont worry" he smirked "I adore you" The door opened and you walked towards the penthouse room "Let's get the night started".
Mingyu was laying on the bed completely naked waiting for you to come out of the bathroom, but being slightly tipsy made everything harder.
You bought a new lingerie set, Red and Lacey. You opened the door, and his gaze landed on you. "Holy fucking shit," he said while sitting up now. "Fuck," he licked his lips. "You're unreal." You giggled at his comments and walked towards him. "Do you like it?" The innocence in your voice made him lose his mind.
"I want to engrave this in my brain; you're beautiful." His dick was by now standing tall and bright between his legs. You crawled onto his lap "Will you let me ride you Gyu?" Your red nails softly scratched along his trained chest, and he nodded "Please, baby". He helped you to guide it inside you, and when he completely stretched you out you threw your head back "You always make me feel so full Gyu" A whimper escaped your lips when you began to circle your hips. Even after all this time, he was still too big for you.
"Taking me so well babygirl" his hands roamed your body and you let out another moan "got the prettiest woman out there" he praised you and whimpered when you began to bounce "god this pussy is so good" you felt your legs getting weaker "let me take over baby" he said lovingly and you got off him, you knew what he loves the most so you got on your fours with a little surprise waiting, the set had his name with custom rhinestone letters on it on your ass "going to tattoo this in my brain" he groaned while sinking his cock into your pussy.
"Going to take a picture of this, even better, a video" he groaned while grabbing his phone "mhm Gyu don't stop" you whined and he chuckled you saw the light against your back "Taking me so well babygirl" He filmed your juicy ass while he was pounding into you, his name on your slip making it so special, and your desperate whimpers making him lose his mind.
"going to come Gyu" your legs began to shake "me too baby, fuck" he felt his balls harden and he fastened his pace.
His hot spurts of cum dripped into you while you clenched him empty.
He pulled out, and you looked at him "this was mind blowing" you said in trance and he agreed "lets take a quick shower and then sleep baby, mhm? How does that sound?" you yawned "carry me please?" he chuckled at you and lifted you up.
He took the lingerie set off your body and turned the shower on.
When you both laid under the white sheets entangled with each other he kissed your forehead fondly and smiled "thank you for this my love"
"You deserve the world, Mingyu, so please let me give it to you , Happy Birthday."
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