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viceroywrites · 2 months

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better than drugs

pickles x fem!reader

the two of you meet in rehab; him being a metal drummer punished for drinking while operating a hovercraft and you being a recovering alcoholic and drug addict who recently relapsed.

in the short weeks you spent with him, you came to two realizations; he was more addicting than any drug, and you never wanted to quit this drug.

ao3 version here - first two chapters are rewritten on tumblr and the rest will be the same moving forward.

content warning: this story involves discussion of alcoholism, drug usage, and drug addiction. reader is a recovering addict.

chapter two - faith

As you finished unpacking the rest of your duffel bag, Pickles watched you curiously from the stiff, metal chair in the corner of the room. You both had remained quiet for some time as you waited for the mob of guards and nurses that were hunting down Pickles to pass by your room, having him hide in the corner before signaling that the coast was clear.

“Sooo… what brings you here? Not gonna lie, you don’t seem like the type to be in this hell hole of dreary douchebags… Everyone seems like they’re off their rocker about to blow their brains out if they don’t get a hit,” Pickles asked, finally breaking the silence, leaning back against the chair lazily.

You chuckled dryly and turned your head to turn to the infamous drummer, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Before I tell you my whole life story, let me hear yours. What’s the drummer for a death metal band notorious for boozing it up doing in a rehabilitation center? Is this like some weird publicity stunt like the stupid Ricki Kixx sobriety thing?”

The drummer snorted at the mention of that and shook his head, grinning at you, “Damn, I wish it was, then I’d be getting paid to be in this dump.”

He shrugged, “Well, since you know I’m in Dethklok, you know about the whole hover drum incident shit?”

You nodded, “Yeah, saw it on the news. I heard you crashed into multiple planes.”

Pickles winced at the mention of it, his fingers mindlessly drumming a beat against the metal chairs. “So I was drunk when I was flying it. Caused a lot of damage or whatever. When do we not, ya know? But I guess it was too much this time and I’m being punished for it.”

“Personally, I think the people who invented those were stupid not to make some auto-pilot function or at least realize you can’t fucking pilot a hover drum set when you’re wasted and save the fancy invention for another performance.” You rolled your eyes, switching out the stiff, low-quality bed sheets with your blankets.

The redhead slapped his forehead and began pacing the compact room, “Thank you! Stupid pricks kept putting the blame on me… told me they made the decision to send me to fucking rehab… told me I was in “denial” and “couldn’t handle my booze”” He threw his hands up in the air, using air quotes to emphasize his point.

Your eyebrows rose in amusement, and you continued to listen to him rant as you pulled out a tiny white box from a small compartment you had carved out in your duffel bag.

“Like fuck those assholes! I can fucking handle my booze ten times better than those lightweights can! I’m Pickles, the drummer of Dethklok – I’m like known for being the drunk of the group!” He continued to rant before stopping as he heard a ‘click’ sound.

His gaze turned to you as you suddenly had a cigarette propped between your lips, trying to light it with your old, worn-out black lighter.

“How the hell did you get those past the guards?” Pickles’ eyes widened, swiping the pack from you, “They practically strip searched me down, I couldn’t even hide anything in my boxers.”

“Hey, those are mine, you prick!” You stuttered out, quickly grabbing them back. Your eyes narrowed at him and you wagged the pack in his face, “I’ll let you have a smoke if you keep this a secret… and help me light this thing.”

The red headed drummer grinned at your desperation and took the light from your hands. The gap between you and him became smaller as he got closer to you to light the cigarette dangling from your lips. His skinny, pale fingers skillfully flicked down the lighter, igniting a fire that matched the heat of your cheeks – a reaction to having the attractive musician close to you.

You took a puff, exhaling the smoke slowly. Your body felt warm and satisfied from the taste of smoke on your tongue. As you opened your eyes, you noticed a pair of piercing green orbs on you.

Pickles smiled in amusement, admiring how mellow you looked, “You needed that, didn’t cha?” You rolled your eyes, throwing the pack to Pickles, “I’m guessing you need it too if you were so willing to take up my offer.”

“Nah, I was fine honestly. Since I helped you light it though, how about you tell me how you got these past security?” Pickles shrugged, tossing the pack on the bed before taking a seat on it.

Your eyebrows raised at Pickles’ willpower to resist the cigarettes and he chuckled at your reaction, “Doll, once you’ve had the hard stuff, the real good shit, a pack of cigarettes does nothing for you. Glad to see it satisfies you, though. Now, mind answering my question?”

You sighed, admitting defeat. You plopped down on the bed, the duffel bag putting a space between you and Pickles. Opening up the main compartment, you dug to the bottom to reveal a hidden compartment you had cut into the bottom. Inside contained a few packs of cigarettes, a back-up lighter, and a bottle of pills.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” You joked, covering up the hidden compartment once again. “Also, the pills are my anxiety medication… the guards would’ve taken it away and the doctor would’ve put me on a prescription of something that would make me like a zombie like all the fucks out there.” You gesture your head towards the door, “I need this stuff to function day to day. So don’t get any funny ideas about stealing them.”

Pickles put up his hands in defense, “I won’t… as long as you teach me some of the tricks you know, cowgirl.” He smirks, winking at you.

The droning sound of the dinner bell echoed throughout the rooms in the rehabilitation facility, cutting you off. You reached back into your duffel bag to grab a pack of cigarettes and headed towards the door, which Pickles looked at you as if you were insane for taking your stash out into the open.

“Don’t question me, just follow my lead.” You grin, shoving the pack into your oversized hoodie.

Pickles smirks in amusement as he follows behind you, shoving his hands in his pockets. As the two of you make your way down the hallway, other patients come out of their room, helping you blend into the crowd of people. Surprisingly, the guards don’t bat an eye as you and Pickles pass by, more preoccupied with another rowdy patient.

You file into the cafeteria, breathing a sigh of relief as almost all the staff was the same since your last stint in rehab. Otherwise, your plan would not have worked and you would have looked like an ass in front of Pickles. Seeing the red-headed drummer head towards the line, you pull him back by the neckline of his black tank, causing him to grunt in response.

“Dude, what the hell?” Pickles muttered, glancing back at you. You shake your head in response, jerking it in the direction of the guards posted nearby the food, “Too many guards, they usually dip and keep watch at the door after most of the patients get their food. Then we go and get ours.”

Pickles’ pierced eyebrow raised in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s the same shit cafeteria food whether we get it now or later, isn’t it?”

“That’s where the cigs come into the equation. Nothing like some good ol’ fashioned bribery right?” You grin, watching as the line slowly dwindles down to one or two people. The guards take leave, leaving the only staff left being a few nurses and case workers who are mindlessly scrolling through their phones and the cafeteria workers.

Grabbing a tray, you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one can see you before pulling out the pack. You beckon for Pickles to join you, sliding down the line as you mindlessly put food on your plate without a care. Pickles watches you, his green eyes following your every move before you stop in front of a particular worker.

“Hey, not sure if you remember me but are you still doing trades? I’ll give you the whole pack if you can get both of us a decent meal.” You grin, waving the pack of cigarettes just for him to see. He glances over you, making sure the coast is clear once final time before snagging the pack of cigarettes and walking away.

“What the hell? You just gave those up to him?” Pickles muttered under his breath and you rolled your eyes in response, “Dude, have a little patience. Being sober is definitely making you antsy,” The server returned with two plates full of much better quality food that looked like it came from a restaurant. He swapped your plates, scraping the slop back into the buffet style trays before grinning up at you, “Pleasure doing business with you again. This better be your last stint here, sweetheart.”

“Can’t make any promises.” You wave your hand dismissively before winking at Pickles, sauntering off to a table in the far corner so no one questions why your food looks way better than theirs. Pickles glances down at the plate and back to you in surprise before trailing behind you, following your every move as you show him the ropes.

“Enjoy not eating slop for at least one night. I can’t do this all the time since my supply is limited but it makes staying here a little less miserable.” You say as you take a bite of the warm food. Pickles slides into the seat across from you, staring at you inquisitively, “So mind explaining to me what just happened back there?”

“That’s Dante. He smokes like a pack an hour but the facility limits the workers to only bringing in one pack. They search them, just like us, to make sure they don’t have any drugs on them.” You wave your fork in the air casually as you explain, “So my second time, I snuck in some cigarettes and Dante caught me with them. Instead of ratting me out, he offered to bum some off me in exchange for better food during meal time. Sometimes it was a whole catered meal like this since that’s what the doctors eat, sometimes I’d ask him to pick up something I’m craving.”

“How many times have you been here? Ye weren’t kidding when you said this wasn’t your first rodeo?” Pickles grinned, savoring the actually edible food as he was grateful he ended up opening your door earlier today. “This is my third - my first time was in high school, second was in college.” You say with a nonchalant shrug though it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue to admit that you were back here, eyes carefully assessing his reaction.

“Third, huh? You must’ve been the life of the party back then. Would’ve loved to chug a handle with ya.” Pickles snickered in a light hearted fashion, not having any judgments of your stints. He saw you as a fellow connoisseur of the finer things in life just like him - booze and drugs. You visibly relaxed at his response, the tension in your shoulders releasing. You rolled your eyes playfully, tapping your water bottle against his, “Guess we’ll have to stick to chugging water while we’re here. Cheers to surviving this hell hole. Hope it’s your last time.”

Pickles takes your cue, holding up his water bottle and tapping it against yours before taking a sip, “Dude, that was totally lame. Can’t believing I’m fucking cheersing water.”

“Could be worse. You could be crawling out of your skin like those guys since they’re in the early stages of detoxing from what I can tell. You seem like you’re actually doing fine for the most part.” You hum, glancing over your shoulder. Pickles looks past your frame, assessing a table full of patients who are glancing around anxiously, picking at their food and fidgeting around. He smirks, shrugging his shoulders, “What can I say? This isn’t as hard as they make it out to be.”

“Says the guy who has been starting fights and raising hell since he got here.” You snort, crossing your arms after finishing most of your meal. “So what week are we on in group? Because if it's Step 2, I’m gonna blow my brains out.”

Pickles shrugs noncommittally, “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been paying attention much. Most of the time I’m just trying to be on my best behavior so I don’t get tased by the staff.” You chuckle at his response, stuffing your hands deeper into your hoodie, “Well, I’ll guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“So what’s your poison? Alcohol, weed, cocaine, ecstasy, methamphetamines?” Pickles asks out of curiosity, trying to guess himself. He’s tried it all but his main drug of choice, as the counselors called it, was alcohol. It was the one he reached for in most situations - to feel good, to destress, to numb. You chuckle at the question, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease as you’ve been asked this question several times in your life - each time you entered rehab, each AA and NA meeting you attended.

“I got hooked on Adderall in my teens. I was an overachiever, would use it to stay up late studying for tests. Smoked some weed as well, that’s what the parents caught me with. They found Adderall later on.” You hummed, recounting the times where all you would stress about was school and academics due to your parents’ high expectations. “Then I went off to college, got into my dream school, and my parents bragged about that for a looong time. I was a goody-two shoes in high school so I started partying, drinking, doing cocaine in the bathroom, acid and molly when I would go to concerts. The usual. I skipped classes, was pretty much high all day. My parents found out and shipped me back here.”

“And now?” Pickles asked, smiling in amusement as you recount the similar experiences to him - except for the good grades and overachieving. You paused for a second, thinking it over for some time before sighing, “Honestly, I don’t know. I drank for the first time after a stressful last few months. I definitely drank way more than I should have but I don’t think I have a poison now. Maybe it’s because other than that, I literally have been sober for the past 5 years. Maybe I’m just in denial.”

Pickles noticed your mood shift to a more somber one and he hopes his next words are helpful in some type of way, “Well, one fuck up doesn’t mean all that hard work is gone, right? You’re only human.” You blink at what he says and end up letting out a laugh in response, “You know, I guess you aren’t wrong. Guess I’ve got a lot to learn from you too, newbie.”

The red-haired drummer can’t help but crack a genuine smile at the sight of your mood being lifted. The two of you finish your meals, stomachs satiated from the fulfilling dinner. As you’re about to pick up your tray, Pickles takes it for you, “I got clean up since you did me a favor hooking me up. You should get some rest. No offense, you’re starting to look like a zombie like the rest of these junkies.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping off the drummer as you got up from your seat, “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow in group, don’t get into too much trouble and please stop pissing in the trash cans. The hallways reek of urine.” Your nose crinkles at the memory of the stench. Pickles chuckles, “I’ll try not to. Sometimes the bathrooms get busy and I don’t wanna wait to take a leak. Hey, uh… thanks again.”

“No problem, thanks for keeping things interesting. G’night!” You say with a grin, waving at the drummer who watches you disappear behind the doors. His gaze lingers to where you once sat in front of him before dumping any remaining food scraps into the trash and placing the tray and plate back. Pickles had any one goal in mind for his stay at the rehab - get the fuck out of here and be back in Dethklok. Something about you was electric, fascinating and you coming in today was a welcome distraction. He created another goal in his head as he walked back to his room - get to know you more.

You headed to the communal showers after a few hours have passed, wanting some privacy and peace and quiet after the eventful day settling back into being in rehab. Towel, toiletries and clothes in hand, you place them down on the counter. Lowering the hood of your hoodie, you assess your reflection in the mirror. The dark circles beneath your eyes are more pronounced, the fatigue from working overtime and keeping up with deadline after deadline apparent. You looked drained of life, weighed down by the responsibilities of life. Your self-care had pretty much gone out the window, not taking care of your skin and appearance, settling for looking passable at work.

You let out a sigh, clapping your cheeks, “Alright, time to get your shit together. Once and for all.” You turn on the shower, letting the steam roll out from behind the curtain before undressing and stepping in. A satisfied sigh escapes your lips as the warmth of the water seems to relax the tension in your shoulders. As the water cascades down your body, you reflect on the day - particularly your fate encounter with the drummer of Dethklok.

In all your stays at rehab, you had never really connected with anyone in programming. Maybe it was just the cycle of people you ended up staying with, maybe it was the fact that you shut yourself off as much as possible, reluctant to share any more of you that wasn’t being exposed in group therapy, staying surface level when interacting with any other patients. Yet somehow things with Pickles seemed like they clicked. It was fascinating to you that despite being sober and probably struggling with cravings, irritability, the works, he still had a fire running through his veins.

You chuckled to yourself, getting preoccupied in your thoughts as your skin began to get pruny from how long you had just been standing in the shower. You quickly scrubbed your hair and body, wanting to get as clean as possible as a reset. Wrapping the towel around your body, you step out of the shower, feeling refreshed. Going through your skincare routine and brushing your teeth, you change into a fresh set of PJs.

Just as you’re about to head out, you hear the door swing open. You blink in surprise as normally everyone is usually knocked out for the night, an hour passing since you started your shower. You glance over your shoulder as the figure rounds around the corner. You visibly relax at the sight of Pickles, toothbrush in hand and towel draped over his shoulder.

“Guess we think alike, it’s already a pain in the ass to share a bathroom with my fucking bandmates, now I gotta do it with 15 other dildos.” Pickles commented, his green eyes trailing up and down your figure. You looked visibly relaxed and refreshed, grinning to himself as he noted your pajama pants - black with cartoon skulls dotted across the fabric.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair then, I was just heading out. Have a good shower.” You say, walking past him. “Hey Y/N,” Pickles calls out your name. You turn your head, eyebrow raising as the handsome drummer smirks, “Cute pajamas, by the way.”

Your eyes gaze down, your cheeks flushing as you realize he’s referring to your pants. You huff, your lips pouting as he gets a rise out of your flustered reaction, “Hey, they’re comfy, asshole! Hope I used up all the hot water and you have to take a cold shower!” You stomp out of the bathroom, causing Pickles to snicker.

"Well, at least I got some form of entertainment for the rest of my stay," Pickles comments to himself, actually excited for tomorrow to tease and mess with you so more.

#metalocalypse #mtl #pickles the drummer #pickles x reader #metalocalypse fanfic #rehabklok #mtl fanfic

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poetryinsilence · 2 years

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I’ve caught a cold and am sick in bed so here’s some imagines pulling this outta my ass with some Corey taking care of sick!reader headcannons! Sorry if there’s any spell or whatnot mistakes…I’m half alive💀

No warnings: it’s all fluff…ish🙃

Here’s my soft boi:

-Corey could tell when you are sick, your voice starts to go lower by an octave or two so it doesn’t hurt or tear you vocal cord

-though you’ve always tried your best and hide that fact and brushing him off saying “you’re fine” but in reality, he could tell by the moment you’ve stepped into the kitchen

-“I’m fine! I’m not even that sick.” “Yeah? then why aren’t you using your normal voice?” “ this is my normal voice!” The end of your sentence cracking up didn’t convince him otherwise

-the cough that you’ve been suppressing had finally slip loose, clearing with the stuttering sound of phlegm. Even those words of lie couldn’t convince yourself that you are in a healthy standard- especially that throbbing headache of yours that been bothering you all morning

-he squints his eyes as you take another step forward to tiptop up to reach the cupboard for a mug, you needed that cup of joe, and afterwards, things will miraculously get better

-“I can’t miss another shift. That old-ass creep of a manager already is pissed off with my shift schedule. He wanted to me to take more hours cuz ‘they’re short staffed’, well we are constantly short staffed cuz he kept sitting on his lazy ass all day in that room of his, prob jackin’ off”, you grunted, the ear of the mug dangling on he top of your fingers, just out of touch

-“that’s is exactly why—“ his word slurred in your mind as your vision overcomes with a blurriness, your legs finally gave out under your weight and you’re falling- oh shit, you’re falling. You squeeze your eyes to let the darkness overtake you and brace for impact

-but you never felt the pain. An eye peeks open and already, Corey had caught you and making his way to the bedroom bridal style

-wrestle all you want but this man had you in a tight lock, determined with each step that he will take care of you and nurse you back to tiptop shape

-you groaned with the cold sheets hitting your backside. Any coldness that’s making contact with your body pierces your bones with a sharp pain. Everything hurts like hell

-Corey softly tucked you in, as careful as possible without causing you any more ache in the process, and sifting under you as many pillows and cushions as he can find

-“hang tight, love. I’ll come back with the medications” he gave you a quick peck to your crown and you pitifully hummed as you drift off to slumber

-the next time you woke up, it was already in the early evening. “Shit!—“ your back shot up from the bed, now outlining the shape of you and you immediately regretted that decision

-the four walls that surrounds you spins like a carousel at a fun fair. Fuck, you’re gonna fall again. Thankfully, Corey heard your loud obscenities and knew you would do something stupid like getting out of bed

-his large calloused hands caught you in the nick of time and slowly ease you back on the mattress

-“careful, careful…” the pain aches to the beat of the ceaseless headache, feeling like sharp knives at this point

-he hovers the glass of water over your chapped lips, delicately popping in the cold medicine in your mouth and washing it down with another huge gulp

-“fuck, I’m screwed… I’m definitely getting fired this time…” Corey breathlessly chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, hon. I’ve taken care of it.” You furrows. “D-did you answer the call?” To your understanding, Corey is a timid person, he wouldn’t answer phone calls if he doesn’t personally know the person on the other line

“…I’ve taken care of it. Rest, I’ll just be outside.” He smiles, as he turns and leaves, you interrupted him with a gentle grasp of his pinkie finger. A quiet gasp escapes from his lips

-“stay…I want you to.” Whatever you request, he couldn’t deny you. Especially with your puppy eyes, the hinted rose on your cheeks, and the demand falling out the cherry red lips. If you weren’t sick, he would—

-he nods and positioning himself to the opposite side of the bed, slipping an arm under your head and pulling you closer to his chest so you could sleep more comfortably. You couldn’t help but plaster on a gleeful smile as you’re surrounded by his comforting scent. Corey places another kiss to your head

-“sweet dreams, princess.”

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #corey cunningham x you #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham x y/n #corey cunningham headcanons #slashers #slasher fandom #⭐️.txt #I’m coughing this up and coughing my life up…deadass💀💀💀

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joyofkinoko · 2 years

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My Cross to Bear | twenty six (1.2k words)

The Budget Ghostbusters are called in to investigate the allegedly haunted Gom Theatre in Seoul, and you are a rising actress cast in the latest show, ironically “the Phantom of the Opera”. With both the spirits of the theatre and the critics of the industry down your throat and out for your blood, you find your only comfort in Choi Beomgyu, the sweetheart YouTube cameraman.

.: coworkers to lovers .:. female reader .:. fluff, hurt/comfort, paranormal :.

.: tw: paranormal elements, mature language, near-death experiences :.

.: masterlist .:. budget ghostbusters :.

There’s a soft ringing in your ears when you gather your bearings. You wiggle your toes, you wiggle your fingers, you feel heart beating in your chest. You are alive and you are awake.

You don’t quite have the strength to open your eyes yet, so you compensate with a moan. And then you hear, “Yo, she’s up.”

“Sleeping people make sounds all the time, stupid.”

“No, but she moved.”

“You’re not even wearing your glasses today.”

“I’m not that blind!”

You groan again, annoyed by the two male voices.

“Oh shit, she is up.”

“See? I’m not that stupid.”

The second male voice groans. “I’m gonna go call the nurse.”

“Oh, that’s probably smart.”

It takes a few more minutes for you to properly get up, but by the time you are, you’ve learned that they’ve taken you to the hospital. For what and from what, you aren’t quite sure yet. Everyone you’ve talked to since waking up seems very wary about tackling the subject with you.

On the other hand, the two idiots arguing about your state of consciousness you learn are Sunghoon and Taehyun, whose opposite personalities are surprisingly complimentary. You’ve really come to adore whatever friendship they’ve developed over the past few weeks.

From what you’ve gathered so far though, you and Nicholas are the only two who were injured from the incident - Nicholas, having ran from backstage to carry you from the stage. Thankfully, your injuries were nothing more than your fainting spell and lingering pain in your ankle, while Nicholas was checked in because he’d inhaled more of the fumes of the fire than everyone else.

But while everyone else has come by the room to say hi, there was one person you hadn’t seen yet. One person who felt owed you the biggest explanation.

After a few more discussions, your physical exhausting and information overload was too much to handle, and you’d asked them to let you sleep again.

It’s the second time that you feel yourself slowly waking up when you overhear yet another conversation. One of the voices you’d heard earlier, and one voice that you’ve come to love.

“She didn’t say anything earlier but she was definitely wondering where you were,” Taehyun said.

“Thanks for being here for her,” Beomgyu quietly responded.

“Of course,” Taehyun answered. “She’s my friend too.”

Beomgyu clears his throat, and you feel a pressure at the edge of your bed which implies he must’ve sat down. “I’m really sorry, Tae, about all the shit I put you through.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh.”

“Fuck you mean ‘oh’?”

“I thought you’d say something like ‘No, don’t be sorry. You’re my best bud, Gyu’ or something like that?”

Taehyun snickers. “But you were being a dick, so-”

“Yeah, I guess i deserve that.”

A pause lingers. “I wish I could’ve done more, trust me. But with all of my suspicions, your emotional attachment and rash decision-making could have ruined what Soobin and I were planning.” You wonder what he’s referring to.

You feel a hand on yours. “Yeah... I’m never gonna be able to pay you back for all you did today.”

“Well...” Taehyun pauses. “I have a few ideas for how you can pay me back.”

He removes his hand and stands. “I guess I’m ready to be your servant.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Make sure you’re here later,” Taehyun says. “When she wakes up again.”

“I don’t know if-”

“She’ll want to hear it from you.”

“But-”

“You owe me now, remember?”

You pass out once more.

When your eyes flutter open, you see that Beomgyu has kept his promise to Taehyun and stayed, scrolling through apps on his phone, seated on a chair by your bed. He hasn’t noticed you yet, so you take the opportunity to really look at him.

Brown hair, brown eyes, slight pout, and all. You think he looks cute like this, so engrossed in whatever he’s looking at, but you think you like him better when he’s smiling.

“Hey,” you manage to croak out, snapping him out of his focus.

“Oh my god, Teddy, you’re...” he starts, immediately putting his phone down and leaning towards you in concern. “How are you feeling?”

You sit up slowly, with Beomgyu helping you elevate your bed and fix the pillows. “Still somehow exhausted. You?”

“Just glad that you’re okay,” he admits.

“So, do I get an answer now? About what happened?”

He chuckles, looking away momentarily before meeting your eyes once more. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m kinda bedridden right now, so take your time,” you answer.

"Well, aside from Nicholas and you, everyone else got out okay," he starts. "Pretty much everyone got out alright, but the theatre, mostly the stage and backstage area, are fairly unsalvagable."

"Oh shit," you frown.

"Fire trucks didn't come in time, but the fire didn't spread super fast so..."

You swallow nervously. "So what's the verdict? Do we know what happened?"

"Well, let's just say that there was one more person that came out... injured..."

"Oh my god, who?"

Beomgyu grimaces. "Mr. Son."

"Wasn't he at the box seats in the audience?"

"Not when the fire started..."

You blink. "So... where was he?"

"Setting the fire?"

"Oh."

"He was arrested when the emergency services came, so don't worry about him anymore, but uh, Taehyun landed a good punch on him."

"Wait so-"

"Yeah."

"Mr. Son was-"

"Yup."

It felt like a goddamned Scooby Doo villain reveal.

"So-"

"He's been tampering with the set pieces, lights, sound system, and stuff. DK said he should've been tipped off when Mr. Son was present the day you were injured since he usually doesn't come to rehearsals."

You shake your head, inhaling deeply. "You're telling me he's been trying to kill me this whole time?"

Beomgyu takes both of your hands in his, encouraging you to look at him. "We're not positive about his motives yet, but Taehyun and Soobin have gathered that his history of alcoholism has been combined with some new influence. Likely supernatural, with Gom's history of ghosts, but also possibly new stresses in his life."

"Well yeah, I heard the theatre was in debt," you replied, trying to comprehend all that's been explained.

"Plus, Tae found a picture of his ex-wife online," Beomgyu added solemnly. "She was also an alcoholic, overdosed in the theatre a few years ago."

"New stresses."

"She was beautiful, Teddy," he gulps. "She looked like you."

You release a deep exhale and begin laughing uncontrollably from your deep discomfort. Thankfully, Beomgyu understands and only holds you tighter. "So, are we sure she died accidentally or did he murder her?"

"Up to the cops I guess," he shrugs.

"So it's um... it's all over now though, right?"

Beomgyu nods. "I'm sorry you didn't get to be Christine for very long."

You look away, blinking back tears you didn't realize were starting to slip onto your cheeks. "It's okay."

"For what it's worth, you were beautiful up there, both vocally and physically," he smiles. "You're incredible, Teddy."

"Thank you Gyu."

You spend the rest of the night together up until the nurses kick him out after visitation hours end. He comes back again the following morning to take you (and Nicholas) home after you get discharged, and he stays with you at your place until Yeonjun demands him to come home for a boys' dinner and meeting. He comes back again the next morning and the cycle continues.

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#tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu #txt smau #social media au #beomgyu x reader #txt fluff

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jelzorz · 2 years

Text

96.

Callum doesn't know how they do it, but they do it. Getting an internship was one thing. Getting one in emergency medicine at Katolis General was another. Getting their internships together was another thing again. Granted, this probably has something to do with the fact that his dad is on the board of directors, but that's not the point--that was all well and good for him, but it was still a long shot that Rayla would get her internship here too, and yet--

Callum shakes off his nerves. The locker room is busy with nurses and attendings discussing the details of handover and his scrubs feel loose and ill-fitting. It's certainly not his first time--he's done placements in the past as part of his medical degree--but this is the first where he's actually supposed to be a doctor, and that's a terrifying thought on its own. He's only an intern, sure, but he's still supposed to function and make decisions as a professional, and it's just... a lot more responsibility than he feels prepared for and suddenly, four years of med school doesn't feel like enough.

But across from him, Rayla slams her locker shut and leans her shoulder against it, stethoscope hanging lazily around her neck, hair tugged back into a sloppy pony tail, half-finished coffee still in her hand. Her grin is toothy, and a little cocky, but the way her lips twitch betray her, and Callum feels the tension leaving his shoulders at the fact that it isn't just him.

"You're looking kinda green," she says.

He gives her a look. "So are you."

Rayla chuckles at that. "It's the lighting," she snarks. "You know how these fluorescents make everyone look sick."

"Mmhm." Callum rolls his eyes good-naturedly. She should know better. Four years of med school together have made her easy to read. "This just feels... a lot more real, y'know? Placement was all fun and games because they didn't let us make any decisions but this..."

"Yeah." Rayla ducks her head and fiddles with her tag. "It's okay to be nervous, right?"

"I think we'd be crazy not to be," says Callum, looking sheepish.

"Crazy or a cocky bastard like Kasef over there." Rayla jerks her head at the intern at the far end of the locker room having a rather heated conversation with a very done looking nurse. "Guy gives interns a bad name, it's no wonder the rest of the hospital hates us."

Callum shakes his head and snorts into the last of his coffee. "I'm just glad we're here together," he admits quietly. "It'd be so much worse to have to do this alone."

"You would have managed, your dad being who he is. And you would have had Claudia and Soren with you too. You would have been fine."

"You know what I mean."

Rayla presses her lips shut and lifts her coffee again to hide the flush in her cheeks. There's history here--things they know that they haven't said, and won't say until the end of this rotation because it's not appropriate or professional to have... attachments to a fellow intern, much less one in the same department at the same hospital. She'd considered going home to Silvergrove and doing her internship there to make things easier, but there's no denying that training at a facility like Katolis General would have looked better on her resume, and who is he to stop her from applying for the best when she's more than capable of it just because of feelings?

The air in the locker room grows electric, and Callum thinks of the quiet moments between their labs and clinics and the heated moments in their dorm long after classes had finished for the day. They had promised to be professional about this, because it's both their careers on the line and they're not in some stupid medical drama. They can be here without compromising each other. It doesn't have to be weird.

Rayla sucks in a breath. "Yeah," she mutters, finishing her coffee and tossing it deftly into the bin. "We got this. We're gonna be fine. All our patients are gonna be too, you'll see. Nothing to be nervous about. We're professionals now, right?"

"Absolutely," says Callum, forcing a grin onto his face. "Professionals. We can do this. Look out ED, we're coming for you!"

Rayla laughs at that, a light pretty sound that still makes Callum's heart stutter when he hears it, even after all this time.

(She's right, in the end. They do manage--even if professionalism goes out the window six months in).

#in anticpation #rayllum #vfib: the medical drama no one asked for #shut up i've been watching code black

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Dinner with death p3

REAL LIFE COUPLE TBS X READER RATING DARK

I woke up suddenly, doing my best to gasp for breath trying to fill my lungs which as much of it as I could. My body felt numb and yet warm. I could hear a heart rate monitor beeping and an alarm blaring to call a nurse about me, the hospital room was blue and grey with little light shining in, the door quickly opened and a nurse ran in to check me over.

"Thank goodness we thought you'd gone," she says after making sure I was indeed alive “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, yeah I feel okay” I nodded

“I’ll get the doctor down to check you over”

“Thank you”

The doctors came and didn't waste time checking me over they all seemed astonished I was alive.

After a while, I was checked out of the hospital, so I went home Alice had long since left but I didn’t care I sat down on my sofa sitting in the quiet empty house. It was strange but I felt alone but that didn't really bother me too much, I couldn’t help thinking about whether or not I had made the right decision. I decided to get some rest so I tucked myself up in my bed wrapped up in my blanket and yet I just… I felt so cold. So empty. So… lonely yet I didn't crave attention or affection, I just wanted to see her again.

It sounds crazy all the things people have said about near death experiences, all being so fearful and yet… All I could think about was going back and seeing her again. But I'm just being stupid what am I gonna do just almost kill myself so I can see her again? And then what? What am I going to say to her? Ohh hi yeah I know you have me this rare chance to return to my life but I completely wasted it coming back to tell you I think you're cute! I mean it's not like I can have a potential relationship with death. Can I? I mean I can't date death, can I?

I began my search, my quest, my adventure! To try and ask death on a date! I don't know how well this is going to go but I'm gonna try! So I began logically at a church near to my house

"Something bothers you my child" he says sitting down beside me in the old wooden pues staring up at the stained glass window before us

"I uhh have had a rough few days" I told him

"Well my child. You know the good lord would not bring you trials for no reason, all trials are for your betterment" he explained

"I know, I've been in the hospital near death situation"

"Ahhh I knew it."

"You did?"

"Your soul is freshly from the other side it is clear" he says "you want to come to terms with what you saw"

"I guess so"

He chuckled "my child, I do not need the promises of what you saw, I know the promises our lord has made us if pearly gates and lovers old, what you saw is your paradise. Now to see it again you must… give yourself to the lord completely" he explained and I felt a hand on my knee I glanced at his hand a little confused and then at him, at the look he was giving me, he smirked more and moved his hand up my leg making me instantly stand putting space between us. It took me a second to regain myself and take a breath, something I noticed had become hard since I had returned.

"No. That's not what I saw?"

"Ohh then the firey gates of hell with the devils torcher before you. So come to repent then?"

"No. Not at all." I told him "and I don't think becoming a slave to you would help me either way" I told him "when I died. I woke up in a place not like your perfect descriptions. It was nothing, a dark endless void with nothing and knowone. I had to see the life I lived through examples of myself all presented by death. And she was beautiful. Not some looming figure of control, not some hellish demon to frighten into compliance. She was beautiful, sweet, kind and forgiving. She didn't need fear to control, if she asked me to do something I would have done it simply because she was sweet and understanding. I don't think I'll find what I need here" I told him going to leave but he grabbed my arm hard not letting me leave.

"Who told you this?"

"No one told me anything that's what I saw when I died"

"But that is not as the good book says is waiting"

"Then clearly it's wrong."

"Wrong? How could it ever be wrong? You are clearly mistaken and delusional if you wish to repent your always welcome here" he says at last letting me go so I marched out the church with no intention at all to return.

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dazedlillies · 1 year

Text

Today I’m going to meet up with a friend in Manhattan. It’s been a while since I last saw them in person. About year ago we were going to the same school, but then he transferred to a boarding school a bit up north in New England. On some other news, I’m finally cleaning my book shelf. So that means I’ll be donating my old books to my school library, thrift stores, etc. A little fact about both me and my friend is that we are taking the ACT. I’ll finally be able to graduate from high. school! Back on the books, but I gotta tell you my mom is, to put it simply, is the type of mom that wants me to leave the nest a little faster. It can be hard making decisions when she was controlling everything you did when you were a kid and now just poof you can do things?! “Yeah sweetie you can travel uptown to where your friend is.” “Yeah sweetie you can clear the bookshelf and donate. You can even travel by bus to any thrift store you choose?!” Really when I was young I didn’t even think I had a purpose or any drive to do anything now it’s just abra Kadabra. I got to study at a cafe until it closed (it closed at 5) before I couldn’t even stay in my own house without a babysitter. I can now have my own affairs without having to ask my mother?! It’s hard to get out of that habit. Also I’m the person who cowers when someone screams at me (probably part of my autistic noise sensitivity) and being screamed at all the time made me just hide and cower and not want to attempt things because I didn’t want to be screamed at. Now I know what a lot of Neurodivergent activists or whatever say “yOu sHoUlDnT bE sCrEaMeD aT” “yOuR pErFeCt jUsT tHe wAy yOu aRe” well here’s the thing I may be on the spectrum but that shouldn’t make people give me special treatment because the occupations I want-nursing and classical singing- are cut throat. Nursing for obvious reasons your dealing with all kinds of sick people and classical singing (despite what most people think performing arts are actually tough. You’ll have people scream at you, audience and fellow cast insensitive to you. You’ll be required to work and work and work sometimes with no break and nobody gives a shit about what you feel) but why would I want to limit myself for a stupid condition. One where I developed an awful coping mechanism of spacing out at even crucial times because of all the stimuli around me and that I have to compose myself in a socially acceptable manner. Well I’m sorry I live in New York I can’t unmask in the fucking subway. What may make me more comfortable will place me in a more miserable situation and my heart wants more than what my stupid brain does. So yeah I’m gonna live life and go out.

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rphelperblog · 2 years

Text

Chicago Med Rp Meme

inspired by @whomuses

“What’s the difference between God and a doctor? God knows he’s not a doctor.”

“Every dumb, mean, stupid, vicious thing gets a light shown on it. The world would be a much better place, a much safer place, if people would just shut up.”

“Pride. It can literally kill you”

“People think sex is a touchy subject. Believe me, money is a lot touchier”

“You can’t erase things, but you can write over them.”

“Yeah, younger patients are the hardest. Very tough to draw a line between an actual disorder and good old fashioned adolescence.”

“Losing hope is not a sign of mental illness. It’s a sign of being human.”

“I became a doctor to save peoples lives!”

“In any case, the problem’s been resolved, and we can get back to business, saving lives, making money.”

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after you.”

“Another maniac going crazy in a theater. This the world we live in?”

“Try thinking like a doctor and not like a pregnant woman.”

You have my permission to go ahead as long as you can do so safely.”

Oh my gosh. Is everyone all right?”

Nobody’s dead.”

Great. When were you going to tell me?”

Maybe I just got tired of hearing the sound of my own voice.”

You hired a nurse for a reason.”

It's my decision! And I don't appreciate you trying to recruit more soldiers to your cause.”

No, I don't want to talk to my husband directly. That's why I hired a lawyer.”

I know you judge me, but in my country I was persecuted. I had to flee.”

I'm a surgeon. Show some respect.”

Those girls would have gone to someone else. At least I know what I'm doing.”

Hate me. Hate me as much as you want, bro. But I ain't walking away til I geet your consent for the surgery.”

Stop telling me things I already know.”

That you got off the black market because you don't have a license.”

I thought you said they were trying to help.”

How long have you been an alcoholic?”

You don't beat around the bush.”

They didn't do anything wrong. They shouldn't be punished.”

we can't let this play out in the media. The court that's really going to matter is the court of public opinion.”

That's quite a look. You enjoying hitting the lanes?”

It's mostly a fashion statement, but I do enjoy rolling a ball once in a while.”

Good. One less crisis to worry about but this guy's still trying to die.”

So you're putting me in purgatory instead?”

Okay. So we're on safe ground legally. What about morally?”

You are, but we're running out of time.”

How are your 15 minutes going?”

Yep. And two vaccinated, consenting adults.”

An innocent little baby had to suffer while there are a bunch of crooks in this world who get away with everything.”

For a soldier to ask for help, for a soldier to be afraid they might be one of 'them', that they could fall apart at any second.”

I think of people like you, people who served over there. You have so much courage, but when it comes to saving yourselves...”

Poor little girl. What did she ever do to deserve this?”

Is this gonna keep happening? Is it gonna get worse?”

I would too. That's why I like it down here. I'm -- I'm not good with suffering. It's just...too much up there.”

Nice fricking move. Right on sister. I knew you were smart.”

He's given me so much. How do I ever pay that back? “

How do you know you haven't already?”

I guess we're all given our measure of suffering. God's medicine”

I promise, from now on, I'll never argue with you.”

You will be an attending, so you won't have to argue with me. You can just boss me around.”

My fear is, is that you're gonna find a way to get yourself kicked off the staff. I'm curious to see how long it'll take.”

You dope. Nobody overrules him.”

Damned if you do and damned if you don't. I admit, it's a bit of a double standard. What can I say?”

I'm pretty sure that if that were me, I'd be raked over the coals by you right now.”

It doesn't have to make sense to us. If he believed he would longer if his wounds were dressed in green bandages, then we give him green bandages.”

Oh, come on, they barely have the energy to play canasta...whatever that is.”

It's not my job to listen. I'm a doctor. It's my job to decide what's best for him. “

You know, there's a reason for that. There's this new study out, says dating can lead to marriage.”

It's just a friendly dinner.”

Wonderful, the guy enforcing the rules is the one who's always breaking them.”

I suspect it was ego more than altruism. Great surgeons know the balance. You're confident, not arrogant. I like that,”

he totally snores, but I don't mind. Oh, he does this thing where he shoots his dirty boxers into the hamper like a buzzer beater. [beat] Anyway, it's cute.”

totally snores, but I don't mind. Oh, he does this thing where he shoots his dirty boxers into the hamper like a buzzer beater. [beat] Anyway, it's cute.

And discipline? Is that a nice way of saying I'm a tight ass?”

What you're doing may be legal, but it sure as hell isn't right. “

This is an emotional process. I can understand you're upset.”

Is this a happy ending?”

you think you know better...sounds like something you'd bust my balls for.”

This is why we all worked so hard to send you to medical school? So you could keep a bunch of party animals from getting hangovers?”

You've got to be kidding me. Ginger Spice is our doctor!”

Some idiot in supply added a zero to my order, so instead of four dozen, I...”

I always kind of envied the kids who went to church. You know, they were part of something. It's like they had their own tribe.

Oh, family drama, now you're in my wheelhouse!

You're family. We rise and fall together.

Only as often as the state requires.

So they ever give you guys breaks?

Then again, how many jobs are there where you literally get to save lives?

Hey, take it from a former alter boy. Baptism's a piece of cake. A lot easier than a bris.

But I'm not religious. Wouldn't it be hypocritical?

Eh, think of it like a vaccination. Do it and get it over with.

Do you know the single greatest challenge that I face is trying to convince people that depression isn't a sign of weakness?

You're a good doctor. The world needs good doctors, you ass.

You don't like Chicago style popcorn?

Mixing caramel and cheese flavors?

Sweet and salty. It's the greatest duo.

you're my brother, and I love you. But you need to grow up.

Why do you always take things out on me?

You know, when I'm faced with a snarling dog, I try to remind myself it's self-preservation that's making him show his teeth.

You don't have to show me how smart you are. And you don't have to please me. Just learn.

I've been an ass. Not just today -- since last week. Before that. I should not have yelled at you.

You? Wrong? Amazing.

Boy's will always want to be better than their fathers, which is precisely what their fathers want.

Oh, come on -- sport's the oldest form of group therapy. We yell, we scream. Testosterone spikes. Every now and then, we even get to believe in a miracle.

People do that sometimes. They sense they're at the end and they just want to die in a clean bed.

He saw something. You'll have to ask him when he wakes up.

This is not about you. This about *her* and what *she* wanted.

#open rp #open to all #open to anyone #open meme #ask meme #open to anybody #rp meme #roleplay meme #ask prompt #memes #chicago med #chicago med rp #chicago med roleplay #hospital rp #hospital roleplay #open to mutuals

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cultgambles · 3 years

Text

Yeah She Bad Ain’t She

Why would I wanna keep her to myself

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

Wrote this in Hawks’ POV bc try new things. Enjoy! Also got inspired by some audios on gwa lol but what’s new.

Voyeurism, exhibitionism, public, threesome, mutual masturbation, one (1) gay joke, they/them pronouns for reader, afab tho

WC: 1794

Masterlist | Requests? open

The first time you step into the dingy bar of the LOV, you scrunch your nose at the smell. Cough into your fist, and scan the room with careful eyes. You see Tomura Shigaraki nursing a whiskey at the bar, Kurogiri behind it, Spinner chatting up Twice. Dabi is laid back on the couch, his arm slung around someone you don’t recognize.

“Hawks, our newest member!” Shigaraki says to the team. “Give him every hospitality.”

“Hey-yo!” you say, saluting leisurely as a greeting. Shigaraki introduces everyone, as if you don’t already know who everyone is. Except one person, the one cozied up to Dabi. They introduce themselves as [Y/N]. Someone you’ll have to research on later before you report back to the commission, which makes you sigh silently.

“Come sit! You’re in luck because tonight is movie night!” Twice says.

“Just tonight?” you ask, watching the rest of the members find seats around the small TV.

“Every Thursday!”

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Catch Me If You Can! About that American con artist,” [Y/N] says. “Pass me that blanket, would you?”

“Sounds interesting. And sure,” you say, tossing the Christmas themed blanket at them. You watch as they fluff it out on themselves and Dabi. You push over one of those lounge chairs and flop onto it. Shigaraki queues up Netflix and hits the play button.

About thirty minutes in, you hear [Y/N]. “Dabi, stop,” they whisper, smacking him on the arm lightly.

“What, I’m not doing anything at all.”

“Don’t act all innocent.” Out of your peripheral vision, you swear you see Dabi’s hand move under the blanket, [Y/N]’s hand gripping his forearm.

“But don’t I make you feel good, baby?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. The problem is everyone is here.”

“Not like we haven’t done something like this before,” he scoffs. “Look, we even got an audience.”

Your face flushes as you listen to their conversation. You barely hear a low groan from [Y/N]’s lips.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? I’m trying to see what Frank’s gonna do!” Shigaraki fumes, whipping around. A look at Dabi. “Oh.”

“C’mon, boss, don’t pay attention to us, watch the movie,” [Y/N] says.

“This is free entertainment right here.”

[Y/N]’s hips jolt upwards. “You perv.”

“More moaning my name, less talking,” Dabi growls, ripping the blanket off [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s wearing a yellow sundress, that by now, is hitched up above their hips. Their panties are pushed to the side, showing their glistening sex. Dabi’s middle finger and ring finger disappear inside of them, his palm pressing against the clit roughly as he fingers them.

“I-Is this a normal occurrence?” you stutter, face turning the same color as your wings.

“P-pretty normal, yeah, oh, Dabi, right there!” [Y/N] trails off, grinding up for more friction.

“What can we say, we like to have fun here.”

By now, the other league members have turned around, movie be damned.

“How are y’all so casual about this?!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re having a good time too, bird brain,” Dabi smirks, eyes drifting to your growing erection.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But he’s not wrong, both of them have got you so enamored. You hear the squelch and squeaks, the quickening of breaths.

“Dabi, I need you, need your cock,” you barely hear them whisper.

“Of course, doll. Lay down,” Dabi smiles softly, planting a kiss on their lips.

You don’t know if you’d rather be him or [Y/N].

[Y/N] slips down, horizontal on the couch. You eye Dabi as he stands straighter, nimble fingers unclasping his belt and pulling his cock out. It shimmers slightly in the TV light. He drags his cock along their folds, gathering wetness. He taps it against them. Without warning, he slams into them, both letting out a guttural sound at the sensation. His pace is slow, he’s gripping [Y/N]’s hips as a smack smack smack rings out as their bodies meet.

Somewhere behind you, you hear a zipper unzipping. You’re tempted to too, but would that be too soon? Must be, since this is basically your first official day here.

But you don’t deny how good [Y/N] looks taking Dabi’s cock. Hair splayed out, breasts moving under that sundress. You want to rip the dress off of them. Tt hold, knead at the flesh, and lick at the pert nipple. Your eyes travel down their body, where [Y/N] takes him in so nicely. How would they taste, you wonder.

And what about Dabi? Just the size of him could choke you out.

Dabi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “C’mon, man, if you’re just gonna stare at them, why don’t you play?”

“Nothin’ wrong with lookin,’” you trail off.

You so want to. Badly.

“Hawwwwkkks,” [Y/N] moans. “Let me taste you. Taste me. Whatever.”

“You heard them,” Dabi drawls.

One beat, and suddenly you’re up, fast as lightning. “[Y/N], let me take your dress off.”

“Okay,” [Y/N] lifts their arms as you pull the dress up over their head, revealing the tantalizing and smooth skin. You toss the dress somewhere to the side of you and rip off your gloves. You kneel beside them on the floor, slotting your mouth against theirs in an open mouthed kiss. Your hands sneak up, massaging their breasts and pinching the nipples.

You feel [Y/N]’s hand snake down your chest, and whimper as their hand grips your clothed cock. You pull away to bring it out. The tip is flushed red, a bead of precum forming at the slit. You stroke your hand down once, and move so your hips are flush with [Y/N]’s face.

“Nice dick,” [Y/N] and Dabi mutter at the same time.

“Jinx!” [Y/N] barks a laugh that soon turns into a moan at a particularly hard thrust.

[Y/N]’s tongue slides on the underside of your cock, massaging the vein there. Soon enough, it’s enveloped in their mouth and you fight to suppress a moan.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby.” [Y/N] hums, taking you in deeper. Their nose nuzzles the hair at the base of your dick slightly. They barely have to do any work as Dabi basically pushes them forward with each thrust. Dabi looks up at you with lazy eyes.

“Kiss me,” you plead, leaning in.

“That’s gay,” he says as he captures your lips with his.

You’ve never kissed a man before. He tastes like old cigarettes and mint. Your tongue slides against his teeth, and finally meets his tongue.

He’s got a tongue piercing.

How many piercings does this dude even have?

You jerk away without warning as [Y/N] does a particularly hard suck.

“Wanna feel their pussy?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Just because you’re new I’ll

let you.” Is this a trick?

You so want to.

[Y/N] pops off of you. “Dabs likes watching.”

“Does that even count since I’m also partaking?”

“I think so. Just get over here, I need your fat cock in my mouth. Not that yours wasn’t also good, Hawks. Just needs to be somewhere else,” [Y/N] says.

“Do it!” you hear.

Damn. You’re so wrapped up in these two, you forgot there was an audience. However, it seems that was the push you needed. You give the a-okay. Dabi nods, clearly pleased by your decision, and pulls out.

You trade places, [Y/N]’s hole flexing against nothing. You bring two fingers down to swipe at the wetness and run your tongue along the digits. You guide your cock in, letting out a satisfied moan at the warmth. [Y/N] squeezes your cock deliciously, and you almost want to come right then and there. You tell them so.

Your pace isn’t as brutal as Dabi’s but still elicits those sounds you're beginning to love out of [Y/N]’s mouth. A sick part of you hopes you’re better than Dabi, and that they will leave him for you.

Or maybe they’ll let you in again? How often do they do this sort of stuff, you wonder to yourself.

[Y/N] and Dabi are holding hands sweetly, their fingers brushing against his charred skin rhythmically.

Your hand moves to rub tight circles on their clit and you're squeezed impossibly tighter as a response.

“You gonna come, [Y/N]?” Dabi asks. “Getting sloppy there. Don’t bite, baby.”

“I’m so close,” [Y/N]’s voice dips off info nothingness at the end, mouth agape. They throw their head back as they move their hips against yours when your body meets theirs. “I want both of you to come inside of me.”

“Wasn’t gonna do it anywhere else,” Dabi chuckles.

“You want me to?” you ask.

“Yeah, fill me up good, Hawks.”

You glance at Dabi. He shrugs. Hope he doesn’t kill you for this.

“Oh shit,” you curse, feeling [Y/N] spasm around you and shudder.

You think Dabi comes at the same time you do. You slow to a languid pace, letting [Y/N]’s walls milk you.

“Good job, doll face,” you watch him lean down and peck [Y/N] on the forehead. “You too, bird brain.”

“Uh, thanks.” You pull out of [Y/N], and they wince at the loss. You tuck yourself back into your pants and [Y/N] wraps the blanket around their shoulders.

“Good show!” Twice says.

“Now let’s finish the movie,” Shigaraki huffs out.

“You have such a one track mind, Shiggy,” [Y/N] says, ruffling his hair.

“I’m just really invested.”

“Yeah, you were invested in us, too,” they say, looking down briefly.

“Oh shut up.” You catch a glimpse of his cock as he scurried to shove it back in his pants.

“See ya round, Hawks,” [Y/N] says, blowing you a kiss. They take Dabi’s hand in theirs and walk up the stairs at the back of the bar.

“Probably gonna fuck some more,” Spinner snickers.

You’re lucky your mic on the inside of your jacket just happened to die before you got up to some frisky business. This has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve been a part of: League of Villains just fuck as bonding activity.

Maybe you’ll keep this one to yourself. You wonder if they would ever invite you again.

#bnha #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x hawks #dabi x reader x hawks #lemon #smut #dabi x you #hawks x you #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #my writing

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

IF I GOT YOU (7)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: one month later...and things start to come to a head. you feel more at peace than you've ever felt, but as usual, what remains peaceful is always interrupted.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, HELLA HELLA toxic friendship and dynamics, suggestive content (hooking up and other mentions)

word count: 4066

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts

Despite a month going by from the last time you spoke to Jungkook in the park and put all of your feelings out in the open, spring air, you feel lighter than ever. Maybe most of that has to do with the simple fact that you’ve finally cut out a toxic, deadweight from your life. Regardless of what ends up happening with you and Jungkook as friends or more than that, at least you are at peace and happy with being yourself.

Besides, it’s not like you don’t ever see him. You see him when you visit the tattoo parlor (but you haven’t allowed yourself to be alone with him and he hasn’t initiated), you’ve seen him at impromptu nights out, at Yoongi’s apartment. Neither of you allow yourself to be alone with each other, since you had both agreed to wait. Even your text message thread with him is dry, though.

You miss him, hoping that a notification of his name with the bunny emoji attached to it flashes across the screen. But it doesn’t.

For all of his bravado, he feels somewhat shy around you on the few occasions that he’s seen you. Jungkook will go out of his way to avoid you, hiding (as much as he can) behind Mina and Mei.

He misses you. Jungkook misses the feel of your lips molding against his, the way you felt in his arms, but most of all he misses your shy smile and your loud laugh. He misses the way your eyes shine when you speak about something you’re passionate about.

Mina had said you were both being stupid, taking time away from each other when you both are denying the inevitable. But it made sense in your mind and his. You want to know what kind of person you were without the burden of Sora’s judgment weighing heavily in every frame of your life. You take the time you need to take to recenter yourself and feel somewhat whole again.

It doesn’t take you long to adjust to life without a former best friend. You quickly begin to notice how different you feel, how differently you approach basic things that you hadn’t really put much thought to before.

It feels so refreshing to not feel like you’re walking in some metaphorical shadow of someone who didn’t really care about you. Well, you think on some level, she did care. But along with the insignificant way she made you feel, it’s not enough to justify it. And you’re really grateful that you don’t need to anymore.

In fact, you’ve already deleted most pictures with her on your social medias. You haven’t quite been able to block her yet, but you think you’ll be ready to do that soon enough.

The ever elusive notion of time really does seem to heal nearly all forms of hurt.

“So,” Yoongi starts, sitting next to you on his new black leather couch and handing you a glass of red wine.

“Don’t start with me,” You say, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not starting anything with you,” Yoongi shrugs, but his eyes twinkle.

“Oh? That’s the voice you use when you have gossip or when you’re about to interrogate me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” Hobi chimes in, sitting on your other side. He leans back and drapes his legs over your lap, to which you instantly rest your hands over his legs.

“How lucky for me,” You mumble, taking a long swig of your wine. You’ll need it.

“How’s that witch doing,” Yoongi asks bluntly.

“I don’t know, I told you I cut her off and kicked her out of my house like a month ago,” You reply, “Did you forget already?”

“No, I just like hearing that you finally came to your fucking senses,” Yoongi says, “She was awful, but I’ll commend you for sticking it out for this long. Cheers, the witch is finally gone-”

“I believe the phrase is, ‘ding dong, the witch is dead’, but this will suffice,” Hobi says and yelps when you swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude,” You say, “But… thank you for helping me see the light. Even if it took a while. And I’m sorry it affected our friendship, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re all here now,” Hobi says, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah. So cheers,” Yoongi says again, raising his glass to you both, “Cheers to you for choosing yourself. And to new beginnings.”

“You’ll make me cry,” You say honestly, offering your friends a watery smile.

“As if we’ve never seen you cry before,” Hobi scoffs. And it’s true- they are two of your oldest friends, and even if you’ve come to the realization that maybe you hadn’t been the greatest friend to them… That bond is hard to sever, and you’re grateful that they’ve always had your back.

“Drink up,” You say with a smile, “Cheers to new beginnings.”

Yoongi has always been a little sly, unassuming but always with several tricks up his sleeve. When he so desires to cause a little mischief and stir the pot a little. And Hobi is all too happy to engage.

Which is how you end up several glasses of red wine and rose deep (yes, you mixed, rookie mistake but who cares. You’re in the presence of some of your greatest friends, after all).

And then Yoongi goes in for the kill.

“How’s our Jungkookie,” He asks, without missing a beat. You choke on your wine and wince when it somehow gets lodged in your nose.

“I don’t know. Think he’s good,” You finally respond, your words sounding slurred, “Ask Hobi. They work together, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, thanks for the information. I had no idea.”

“Happy to be of service,” You say, leaning into Hobi's side, “Ikindofmisshim.”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that,” Yoongi says, a self-satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He heard you, of course he did, but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

“I said I kind of miss him,” You reply, a dreamy look in your eyes, “Do you think he misses me, too?”

Hobi chokes back a laugh but you hear it and offer him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Nobody’s making fun of you, stupid,” Yoongi says poking your forehead, “And yeah. Your man doesn’t shut up about you. Always with those eyes around you.”

“He’s not my man,” You whine pathetically.

“Yeah, that’s a mystery to both of us,” Hobi says, “How long are you both gonna keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

“This weird awkward dance you both do around each other. Avoiding each other when we’re all together. It’s kinda funny, like we all know you both wanna fuck so bad-”

“Shut up! That’s- that’s not- shut up!”

Yoongi and Hoseok both burst into laughter, drunken giggles loud in the living room and you can’t help but laugh with them.

Clubs were never your most favorite place to unwind, but you make an exception for tonight. For Mina and Mei, you’ll make an exception. The three of you had gotten ready together in Mei’s home, in between sips of cocktails that she had poured out. Mina had done your makeup for you, giving you the sharpest eyeliner you’ve ever seen on your eyelids as well as a bold red lipstick.

It’s not a club night if there is no red lipstick involved, after all.

Your makeup usually looks good when you apply it yourself, but Mina has a genuine eye and skill for makeup artistry. You recall her telling you that she’d always dreamed of going to beauty school but hadn’t pursued it. You had told her that it’s never too late to fulfill a dream and she had only smiled at you.

“Hey,” You say, “Is Jimin coming tonight? How’d your date last week go?”

“It was really good,” Mina says, something sweet in her voice, “He made me dinner and dessert. And then I sucked his soul from his cock an hour later and he even made me squirt. And yeah, he’s coming tonight to the club. We’ll see what happens...”

“Wow,” You nod, listening with wide eyes, “That sounds amazing. I’m really happy things are going well for you both. Including the horny stuff.”

“The horny stuff?” Mei laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” You say, playfully shoving her shoulder, “It’s no joking matter that he made you squirt.”

“Yeah, I high fived him after,” Mina says slyly, “It was… a night. Can’t wait to have another night like that. But I’m gonna make him work for it tonight.”

“As you should,” You nod solemnly, “What about you Mei? Are we drinking until we blackout or are you playing hard to get with Seulgi?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Comes Mei’s muffled response.

“Cheers to that,” You reply, “Are… Jimin’s roommates coming?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Mina snorts, “You wondering about Jungkook?”

“N-no, I haven’t seen Taehyung in a while either-”

“Tae’s coming, but Jungkook isn’t. Something about having a long week and wanting to chill at home.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say, cheeks ablaze as you avoid her eyes. Unable to hold the slight sting of disappointment from your voice.

Mina and Mei see right through it but they say nothing, only handing you a refill of your now empty glass.

Despite the relatively steady stream of drinks in your hand (an illusion, really, you’ve been nursing the same two drinks all night), you’re almost completely sober. In fact, you’re more tired than anything else. It seems that Jungkook had the right idea to stay home tonight. You’re rather benignly jealous of his decision.

You enjoy dancing and singing with your friends, feeling the thrum and excitement of music and your close companions bursting through your veins.But environments like this overwhelm you sometimes. All of the flashing lights, sometimes smoke and all of the people… Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

“Wanna dance?” Comes a rich, velvety voice behind you to the right. It’s Taehyung, and you’d rather dance with Taehyung than anyone else in this club. With the exception being Jungkook, but he’s not here right now.

“Okay,” You nod, taking his hand when he offers it to you. Your thoughts flit to Jungkook briefly.

Taehyung is good company, always keeping you with a smile on your face and filling you up with laughter. He keeps you close with easy, gentle movements as you both belt out the words to whatever song is playing on the speakers. But Taehyung has always been observant.

“You don’t really wanna be here, huh? I’d take it personally, if I didn’t know you,” Taehyung teases.

“No, it’s not that,” You murmur, “Just have never been a big club goer, that’s all. Jungkook had the right idea in staying home.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muses, “What are you two doing?”

He’s almost as blunt as Yoongi (who’s also in some corner of the club. Usually, he keeps you company at things like this, but conveniently, he’s nowhere to be found.).

“If I knew I was going to be interrogated in this club, I would’ve drank more,” You say dryly. Taehyung laughs at that and squeezes your shoulder.

“You both deserve to be happy. Just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tae,” You say, a grin spreading across your face, “I guess you’re not as sleazy as Mina says you are-”

“Me? Sleazy?” Taehyung gasps, pretending to be affronted. You roll your eyes and offer him your hand.

“Wanna dance?”

Taehyung turns you around and holds your hips tightly in his hands, dancing with you to the beat of the music. It’s nice to be held like this, even if it’s a little dirty.

You don’t notice a pair of sly eyes watching you from across the club.

By the time you excuse yourself to catch a breath and grab some water from the bar, you realize that most of your friends are off doing their own thing. It gives you a second to people watch from the second floor of the curb and lean on the railings, taking in your surroundings. Despite stifling a yawn.

You relish in the cool feel of the icy water flooding your senses, waking you up a little more. You wonder if you can convince Yoongi to take you to get fries or tacos after the night ends. At the thought of tacos, you salivate a little.

But your taco fueled fantasies are broken when a few girls try to push past you to get to the bar. You mumble a soft apology, but it goes unheard. The unmistakable sound of a voice, a voice that you’ve only recently been able to put out of your mind, breaks through the barrier and it makes your heart drop.

It’s an angry call of your name. Your stomach churns, and suddenly you’ve never wanted to learn the art of teleportation more.

Sora, in all her bitter glory, stands in front of you with a full drink in her hands. Beside her are two of her friends, looking resigned and trying to plead with her that they should go.

“Missed me so much that you followed me here, huh?” Sora sneers.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response. Or you for that matter,” You say tiredly, trying to step past her.

“All your friends left you. Look at you all alone,” She says and you roll your eyes with a dry laugh.

“I’d rather be alone than have anything to do with you, Sora,” You reply easily, “I’m leaving now-”

But she sidesteps you again, gripping your forearm and looking at you with so much animosity that it makes your skin crawl. Had she always looked at you like that?

“I can’t believe you just dropped me like nothing. After I gave you everything,” Sora says, as if you had said nothing at all. She’s clearly a little drunk, telltale signs of her drunkenness clear on her face. Her words are slurred and she stumbles a little on her feet. You cringe. You don’t want to have this conversation with her whether she’s sober or drunk.

“You treated me like I was nothing,” You snap, “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Now let me go.”

“Or what? There’s nobody here ‘cept you and me, babe,” She says, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Her friends have disappeared and warning bells start to go off in your head. She’s right, all of your friends have dispersed. But you manage to fish your phone out of your purse while she rambles to you and send a text to the groupchat, simply stating “pls help, Sora is here”.

Dread seeps into your pores. You just want to be done with her presence.

“Sora, just let me go. Nothing you say will change anything,” You say heatedly, “Fucking let go of me!”

You try to yank your arm out of her grip but her nails are sharp against your skin.

“I loved you, you know that? I fucking gave you everything, you were my best friend,” Sora hisses, “I just wanted to you be happy. To see that I’d do anything for you.”

It takes a minute for the dust to settle but you suddenly begin to understand. “You hurt me! That’s not friendship or l-love, or anything remotely close to it. Nothing you say will change that. I don’t want you around anymore. Take a hint, Sora,” Your voice is cold and deadly, nothing like what Sora is accustomed to.

“Please, let me go,” You beg softly, “Why won’t you let me go?”

Tears spring into your eyes, both from the force she’s holding you with and from how much this is exhausting you.

“What does he have that’s worth all of this?” Sora hisses.

“It doesn’t matter what he has. I like him and I enjoy spending time with him, that’s all that should matter, and I’m not explaining Jungkook to you,” You say coldly, “You lost the right to know a long time ago. If you took your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d know that this friendship was over months ago.”

By now, both of your voices have raised in volume and pitch, attracting the attention of bystanders. This makes no sense to you, your head is starting to hurt from the implications of her words. You just want to go home. By now, Yoongi has seen your text and is trying to get to the bar to rescue you from Sora.

“He won’t give you what you need,” Sora exclaims.

“Shut up! Just fucking stop talking about him,” You shout, “I’m so fucking sick of this, just leave me the fuck alone. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore, just drop it!”

You feel the need to defend him though, “He’s kind, he has a big heart a-and, you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fucking drop it! Leave me alone!”

“You are so fucking blind! You’ve always been such an oblivious fucking bitch,” She screams at you and your blood goes cold. You’ve seen her angry, but not like this not when her eyes are blown over with rage.

Yoongi’s heart is beating in his ears as he tries to find you- this club is fucking huge, where the hell could you be? He’s already sent a text to Jungkook, telling him that you might be in trouble at the club and that nobody could find you.

“Where is he then? If he’s so kind, he must be here right?”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve always had a stick up your ass about him specifically- I mean you’ve always have a stick up your ass, but with him it’s like something crawled up there and died-”

“You couldn’t even cuff him? You dropped me for him and you didn’t even cuff him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“What are you afraid of, babe?” She sneers cruelly, “Afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like? Or are you afraid you’ll find something that you don’t like?”

Frustration and hurt boils in your belly, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away. With all of the calmness you can muster, you throw her hand off of you and rub your forearm gingerly.

Before you can say anything, her eyes narrow to slits. You don’t even have time to react before you feel a sudden wetness drench the front of your top. Remnants of her drink are splashed on your torso and you gasp, rage flaring through your veins once more. How dare she throw her drink at you? Before you can do anything though, a pair of arms circle your waist and you’re pulled into a strong chest.

You recognize the scent of his cologne immediately and the feel of his leather jacket. “Jungkook,” You mumble, looking up at him. He immediately gives you his jacket and pushes it through your arms wordlessly.

“Hi,” He murmurs, taking in your wide, nervous eyes and the trembling of your hands. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before standing in front of you and you take his hand in yours. Jungkook squeezes reassuringly.

He offers Sora a long, hard look and a shake of his head. She almost balks at his intense gaze. Almost.

“C’mon baby,” Jungkook finally says, “Let’s get out of here.”

“My knight in shining arm-” You shiver once you’re both outside the club, away from the eyes of strangers. You cut your train of thought off when he pulls you close to him, cupping your cheeks with both hands. Worry dots his eyes and he presses his forehead to yours shakily.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Is everything-”

He exhales, a shudder felt against your skin. He seems to be at odds with himself, an internal battle dancing in his dark eyes. But Jungkook makes up his mind and cradles your face again, the gentle pads of his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I missed you,” Jungkook croaks, “Shit, I miss you so fucking much. Can I kiss you, baby? Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod instantly, breathing out a soft ‘yes’. Whatever this recent development means for both of you, it makes sense. You want this and you want him.

And then he kisses you as if it was meant to be, as if he’s been thinking about your lips every minute of every day- soft, balmy lips against your chapped, red lips. Jungkook swallows your gasp, somehow brushing against the parts of your heart that missed him. His kiss is sweet and desperate as his tongue traces over your teeth before dipping further into your mouth. Your knees weaken slightly, but he holds you steady with one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your cheek.

You’re overwhelmed by him and from the events of the night. Whatever wetness had gathered in your eyes clings to your lashes before dropping down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Jungkook says softly. He gathers you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You sink into his hold on you, inhaling deeply. The faint thrum of his heart calms you slightly.

“I missed you,” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, “Fuck, I missed you a lot.”

He kisses your forehead with a small smile, the hint of his dimples making you smile, too. Jungkook looks at you as if you’re transparent, trying to study the reason for your wet lashes and the tear stains down your face. A feeling of understanding passes between you both, calming your racing heart and your nerves.

“Jungkook,” You murmur, “Take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” You reply, not really wanting to be in your home just yet, “It’s only fair, since you spent the night at my place last time, right?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Jungkook chuckles. He kisses you one more time before adjusting his motorcycle helmet over your head. When you wrap your arms around him, you press a kiss to the back of his neck and behind his ear.

He shivers.

Jungkook can tell you’re in your head a little bit, a little quiet and shaky. Even as you head into his bathroom to change into the clothes he’d given you, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. When you returned from the bathroom with a bare face, you’re lost in thought, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing harshly.

He’d pulled you into his arms, applied his clear balm on your lips, and chided you for treating your lips like that.

You only smiled weakly at him and meekly asked him to hold you under his covers. He doesn’t deny you.

He’d caught the tail end of Sora’s tirade at the club, and he’d begun to understand. He thinks you had begun to understand, too.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers into your hair, “Do you want to talk, baby?”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admit softly, pressing your hand over his.

“I can talk for both of us,” Jungkook says, kissing your temple, “Can I do that?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

“I heard some of what Sora said,” Jungkook says and you tense up but he wordlessly tells you to relax, “I think in some weird, twisted, fucked up way. She loved you and her way of showing you how was keeping you to herself. It’s shitty, but it made sense to her. But you don’t owe her anything, baby. Not a damn thing.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I feel really gross and I don’t know why.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Jungkook says, rubbing your arm, “You didn’t know. That’s not love, not really. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” You say, turning to look at him with a small smile, “I trust you.”

You turn fully in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, as well as his gentle fingers over your back. It’s so easy with him, and you don’t need to think too much. Just how you like it.

Tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years

Text

Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes.

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven.

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something.

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating.

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated.

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?”

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances.

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals.

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.”

He huffs a little.

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead.

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge.

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates.

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well.

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human.

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!"

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes.

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head.

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.”

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now.

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open.

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut.

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.”

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #werewolf!jungkook #bts werewolf au #jungkook imagine #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanheadquarters #btscreatorscorner #btswritersclub

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mizunetzu · 3 years

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Lovely tags: @xstar-kidx @shiny-bun @runawayvictorianchild @tea-whore @mixijima @fudobaby @fa1ryblood4 @shawwniebinnie @2o77danilopez @cha-boi-after-dem-kneecaps @vincent0kirishima @dxcter @li-xero-x

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Kuroo x reader - ...Yet it Happened Again (you did once pt.2)

⚠️Warnings - Bokuto running around without underwear so his pants and his asscheeks prolly stank, none

Pronouns - he/him

You can find part one here!

——————

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry as well.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile connotated with pity.

“You did once.”

(Y/n) rubbed at the back of his head, trying not to suffocate in the aggravating silence that consumed the air. He looked off to the side, looking to the ground where his feet stood, then kept his gaze trained on his feet.

He didn’t want to see Kuroo’s face again. Not because he was uncomfortable that he liked him, no. He was sure they’d be good buddies again in a few days. He just didn’t want to see that pitiful expression that hung heavy with rejection. Even (Y/n) was an empathetic person.

“We should head back...” (Y/n) said, mumbling into the ground. “Yeah,” Kuroo’s disembodied voice rang, albeit a bit wavy and dry. It twisted (Y/n’s) heart into knots.

(Y/n) pushed off the railing and began to walk away. People would be wondering where they went.

“Are you comi-“ (Y/n’s) voice hitched in his throat.

Kuroo was smiling. His eyes closed, a gentle, warm smile on his face as he held himself with his arms wrapped tightly around themselves. (Y/n’s) furrowed his eyebrows.

Kuroo seemed to notice the gaze of confusion from him, so he looked up. His eyes were gentle, they held no grudge or blame for (Y/n), eyes that respected and adored his decision, even if it was rejection on his part. Some part of him wished Kuroo would be more mad, so he didn’t have to feel so bad about turning down his confession.

“There’s...” Kuroo finally spoke up after what seemed like forever. “...nothing I can really do to change your mind.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. Not smirk, but a soft, clad smile. (Y/n) frowned.

“And it made me realize just how happy I am to still be your friend. And I think I’m satisfied with that for now.”

Kuroo hiked himself off the railing as well, not bothering for an answer from (Y/n) and his unreadable expression. He walked past him, before stopping and turning around.

“Thanks for hearing me out, (Y/n). I have my answer now and I can stop stressing, so thank you for that.”

“Let’s go back.”

(Y/n) nodded quietly. He didn’t trust his voice to come out the way he wanted, so he chose to silently follow Kuroo back to the gym.

——

Why did it feel so bad?

He knew rejecting people always felt sort of burdenful, but he never thought about things like that more than a day at most, usually forgetting the whole thing happened after a good amount of time. But (Y/n) found himself thinking about it even three days after his rejection to Kuroo.

Was it because it was his friend who he rejected? His old crush? (Y/n) bounced a volleyball against the ground, before bringing it up into a toss. He tossed the ball absentmindedly as his teammates did whatever solo practice they wanted to do.

(Y/n) hummed to himself. Even though he was confused as to why it felt so bad to reject Kuroo, he wondered why he didn’t take his rejection more heavily even more.

It was a rejection, he should’ve been at least a bit more sad then that. But he was smiling. Kuroo was smiling as (Y/n) so selfishly told him he didn’t love him. God, why did he have to confess so early into training camp?

Maybe it was because he was such a kind person...a kind, kind person. He was lucky to have a friend like that, willing to be happy being friends with someone like him, who broke his heart. So lucky. Lucky that Kuroo was kind and caring and-

The volleyball dropped and bounced off (Y/n’s) face, before tumbling onto the ground and bouncing away. (Y/n) stumbled back with a groan, tripping and falling onto his ass as he tried to regain his bearings. He must’ve been so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he was tossing the ball. He sat and rubbed at his face. It stung, especially since the ball dropped from so high up.

“(Y/n)!”

He heard a voice yell. (Y/n’s) heart swelled. From guilt or from something else, he didn’t know.

In a second Kuroo was standing over him, a worried look on his face. He crouched down to his side.

“Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.” Kuroo gave no time for (Y/n) to answer, as he pulled his hand away from his head and cupped his cheek. He brought (Y/n’s) face close to his own, examining it closely. (Y/n) held his breath, and looked anywhere but him. “Your forehead looks kinda red.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine...” (Y/n) brought his hand up to Kuroo’s wrist to get him to let go of his face, but he held it firm, but with the gentleness of a feather at the same time. His hand was warm. He wished it was cold so his heart would calm down. He wished he would let go already.

Kuroo scanned the gym for the nearest adult. Coach Nekomata was busy being talked off by Karasuno’s coach, so he couldn’t go there. And he’s pretty sure everyone else was busy. Kuroo sighed.

“Get up, I’m taking you to the health office so you can rest.”

In a second, (Y/n) was pulled to his feet and walking towards the health office. Kuroo yelled something over to a nearby coach, who nodded and let him continue to the office.

“Wh-but it was just a bump-?!”

Kuroo held his fingers to his lips. “Dude, I’m bailing you out from practice for a few minutes, the least you can do is thank me.”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. He furrowed his brows with a huff as he walked in silence.

Kuroo Tetsurou is such a kind person.

——

(Y/n) flopped onto the nurse's office’s bed face down, sighing into the dense mattress. It wasn’t even that comfortable, but to a tired volleyball player, it was like laying on warm clouds.

“Air conditioning feels so niiiiiiiice...” (Y/n) sunk deeper into the school-provided pillows, his sweat beginning to cool as the AC blew cold air into the room. Kuroo closed the office door, so no one would catch them ditching, and sat down on the bed next to (Y/n).

He sat there for a few seconds, testing the waters, before slowly laying down beside (Y/n). He looked up from the pillow, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Kuroo laying down.

“Am I not allowed to lay down?”

“Well-it’s just—“

“Calm down, (Y/n),” Kuroo chuckled. He shifted from his spot on the small bed, laying on his side and facing (Y/n). “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna pounce on you while we’re resting or something.”

“I’m tired too.”

Kuroo pulled up the folded blanket to both of their shoulders. (Y/n) shrunk back into the mattress slightly when Kuroo placed the bed sheet over him. “If they ask where we were, just say I was icing your forehead or something.”

Kuroo settled into the bed. In seconds, (Y/n) could’ve sworn he was already out like a light, quietly snoring while he wrapped his arms around himself atop the blanket. It didn’t help that the bed was small, made for people of normal height and certainly only for one person.

Especially with Kuroo, almost 6’2; (Y/n) was closer to Kuroo’s face than he would have liked.

He saw the way Kuroo’s chest would flutter every time he took a deep breath in, or the way his impossibly messy hair fell into his face, making it even more untamable than it already is. Or the way his lips were so deliciously parted, making his face look relaxed and peaceful.

He could stare at it forever. He could stare at him forever. And it was scary.

(Y/n) clutched the fabric of his shirt that clung right over his heart. There was no way he could sleep like this. Not when he was so close to Kuroo Tetsurou...

But even as he thought that, both of them somehow woke up entangled in each others arms, comfortable, and skipping practice peacefully. Not even Coach Nekomata had the heart to wake them up when he so curiously wandered into the health office looking for the two. Which is why they didn’t until Yaku dragged Kuroo forcefully onto the ground, bringing (Y/n) down with him.

——

(Y/n) thinks he knows why it felt so bad.

It wasn’t as hard to figure out. After all, the warm, fluttery feeling he felt as he woke up so suddenly, on the ground staring up at Yaku while directly on Kuroo’s chest was too telling.

The feelings he tried so hard to forget were resurfacing again. And he hated it.

Don’t get him wrong, Kuroo openly admitted to liking him just a few days ago, and just yesterday he woke up on top of his chest, but it was almost embarrassing to admit he was falling all over again. He didn’t want to. God, he didn’t want to.

Suck it up, keep it inside until training camp is over. That’s what he told himself. Then (Y/n) wouldn’t have to see Kuroo’s stupid, lovable face all day every day. Maybe then these feelings would bubble over again. That easy.

“(Y/n)~!”

Or so he thought.

Kuroo came jogging up to (Y/n), a plate of breakfast in his hand as he slumped down in the seat next to him. Kuroo dug into his breakfast, piling rice into his mouth as (Y/n) hummed out a greeting.

Kuroo swallowed a big lump of rice thickly. He clasped his hands together, before rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry about yesterday...totally didn’t expect to fall asleep on you...or koala you while I was sleeping…”

“S’fine…” (Y/n) said, hungrily shoveling food into his mouth. He barely heard anything that Kuroo said over the sound of his stomach rumbling. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yesh.” (Y/n) chewed, thought about it, then swallowed. “...No.”

“(Y/nnnnn)!” Kuroo banged on the table lightly as he whined jokingly. (Y/n) chuckled into his plate of rice.

“Kidding, kidding! Yeah, I heard-”

“Though I wouldn’t blame you if it went totally over your head there. Y’know, since you’re so dense sometimes~”

“Fuckin-Tetsurou!”

Kuroo cackled as (Y/n) spat rice at him while he sputtered. His laugh was unrestrained, and as funny-sounding as it was, it sounded so genuine and wholehearted that you couldn’t help but listen as his laughter sang. It was stupid. It was Kuroo.

(Y/n) stopped laughing before Kuroo, stopping unconsciously to listen to his contagious laugh. He only then realized he called him by his first name habitually, like he’d done years ago. As his laughter died down, (Y/n) quickly turned to his plate of half-eaten food to avoid being caught staring at him.

“Ahhhh sorry sorry-you’re just very fun to-Kenma! Get off you’re psp and eat, damnit!”

Kuroo stood up from the table, pointing at Kenma, who was trying to somehow hide himself behind Hinata. Kuroo turned back to (Y/n). “Sorry, let me grab Kenma’s psp real quick. He was gonna sit next to us until he saw Shrimpy over there, and he’s probably too busy showing him his games to eat. Gimme a sec, ‘kay?”

Kuroo fled from the table, disappearing off to nag Kenma like a mom. (Y/n) picked up his chopsticks, picking up a small veggie with his sticks when a phone buzzed.

(Y/n) fished his phone out of his pocket, switching it on only to be met with a blank screen with his background photo. A picture of him and Kuroo posing in front of a ramen shop’s fish mascot, pretending to eat it as Kenma set his hand on the fish to contribute to the photo. No notifications. It wasn’t his phone.

The phone buzzed again, and it was only then (Y/n) realized it was the phone on the table, in the seat directly next to him. Kuroo’s seat. It was Kuroo’s phone.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. He grabbed the phone, intending to turn it off or dismiss the notification, when his eyes caught the message banner.

One new message from “Yumemite”

Huh. He could’ve sworn the last time he’d seen Kuroo’s phone, her contact name was somewhere along the lines of “Cutie Yumi <3” or “love of my life”. But it was what was under that banner that really peaked his interest.

‘hows it goin with (Y/n)????’

(Y/n) knew he shouldn’t intrude on Kuroo’s texts. It was a breach of privacy, and Kuroo could come back any second. Still, the message was about him, so he had a right to know...right?

He typed in Kuroo’s password the last he remembered it. Yumemite’s birthday. Quickly typing in the digits, his cringed slightly when the words ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ glared at him, and erased the wrong password from the text box.

(Y/n) glared back at Kuroo’s phone, even as he felt a sense of pride that Yumi’s birthday wasn’t the answer. He typed in Kuroo’s own birthday into the text box with a smirk.

The screen flashed ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ once again.

Now, this really got (Y/n) confused. Kuroo was very basic with passwords. His birthday, or someone else’s birthday like his mom, had always been his go-to password. But it was almost always his own birthday. (Y/n) gulped, and hesitantly typed in one more birthday into the box.

The screen slid up, granting him access to Kuroo’s phone. (Y/n) couldn’t tell if his stomach dropped or if his chest exploded with butterflies.

The number he had typed in was his own birthday.

(Y/n) shook the butterflies off, clicking on the messages app and opening the conversation with Yumemite. He scrolled up until his name wasn’t mentioned in conversation anymore, which was a few days ago, the day he rejected Kuroo to be precise.

Yumemite - howd it go??

Yumemite - he said yes right??

Kuroo - no

Kuroo - brb gonna go listen to mitski and cry :,)

Yumemite - AWWW IM SO SORRY :(((((

Kuroo - wait lmao dont be i was joking

Yumemite - ?

Yumemite - wait so he said yes-?

Kuroo - well- no

Kuroo - he rejected me but tbh id rather be his friend than not have him in my life at all yk??

Kuroo - like i can learn to get over him but itd fuckin suck if i lost him altogether

Kuroo - hes too important to me for that

Kuroo - i love him too much >>>

Yumemite - gay

Kuroo - shut up u literally have a gf

Yumemite - yeah <3 unlike one of us

Kuroo - I JUST GOT REJECTED AND YOURE PULLING THAT SHIT

(Y/n) smiled to himself as he read through the texts. He felt oddly happy that he was ‘important enough’ to Kuroo that he’d be willing to stay as friends even though he was rejected.

(Y/n) switched off the phone as he heard approaching footsteps. He slid the phone back into its place as Kuroo slumped back in his seat, psp in hand.

He hoped he didn’t notice.

——

(Y/n) wished he didn’t know why he felt so bad. Now that he knew, it just felt worse.

Every little touch, every little ‘(Y/n)~!’, hell, every little glance he sent his way sent shivers down (Y/n) spine. And he hated it.

He hated how he couldn’t stop himself from falling hopelessly in love with Kuroo Tetsurou all over again.

He wasn’t deliberately doing anything to get him to fall so bad either. No flirtatious comments, touches that get a little too personal, nothing. It was just Kuroo being his friend, and that made it one-hundred times worse.

Did that mean Kuroo got over him that quickly? Did he not like him anymore, and that’s why he was so comfortable sleeping in the same bed as him? Or laughing and touching him all buddy-buddy during breakfast? Did he-

Did he really move on that quickly?

(Y/n) ran fingers through his hair as he walked into the gym. It should’ve been a good thing, Kuroo moving on. He should’ve been happy about that. So why wasn’t he? Why…

“KUROOOOO! YOU ROOSTER SHIIIIIIIIT!”

Bokuto’s voice boomed from behind (Y/n). He jumped, but before he could turn around, an arm snatched his wrist and pulled him along.

(Y/n) legs ran faster than he could keep up with. Kuroo lay ahead, sprinting as fast as he could with (Y/n’s) wrist in his clutch. He looked from a cackling Kuroo’s back, to Bokuto chasing behind them.

“Wh-?!”

“I stole all of Bokuto’s underwear from his bag while he was in the shower.” Kuroo said between jagged pants as he turned a sharp corner. (Y/n) stumbled along, trying to keep up.

“And you brought me along why?!”

“Hey-! I didn’t mean to! You were just right in front of me and you were like-thinking about something so you probably didn’t hear me screaming to get outta the way so I just grabbed you-!”

Fair enough. (Y/n) huffed as Kuroo hurriedly opened up a storage closet and ducked into it.

It was fairly big, about the size of a volleyball club room and very, very dark. (Y/n) could barely see the faint outline of Kuroo’s jawline as he felt around the doorknob, snickering.

“Shit-there’s no lock…”

“Kurooooooo!”

“Fuck! Uh-!”

Kuroo looked around as he heard Bokuto’s footsteps nearing the closet. Looking at (Y/n), he could very clearly see the bright white of his shirt, contrasting the way Kuroo’s black one blended into the dark. If Bokuto barged in, he’d see (Y/n), which would lead to him finding Kuroo, and...well.

Without thinking, Kuroo pushed (Y/n) against the corner of the room, placing each of his hands on either side of him as he practically smushed himself against him. The door barged open, faint yellow light flooding into the dark room as Bokuto angrily stomped in.

Kuroo mouthed a “Don’t...move…” as slowly as he could to avoid his lips smacking or making noise, and he’s pretty sure he got the message with how utterly close their faces were to touching.

(Y/n) was so close he could practically count the eyelashes on Kuroo’s pretty eyes. Were Kuroo’s eyes always so bright? They looked hypnotic and endless as he looked off to the side, trying to see Bokuto searching the closet childishly.

(Y/n) swallowed the lump in his throat as quietly as he could, pressing against the wall as much as humanly possible with how close Kuroo was.

Bokuto huffed, nearing Kuroo and (Y/n’s) hiding spot. Kuroo unconsciously pressed closer, hoping Bokuto wouldn’t see the white of (Y/n’s) shirt. Things disappear with the color black in the dark, he just hoped Bokuto was dumb enough to not see Kuroo’s hair or his black shirt.

Kuroo’s face was so close to (Y/n) that they were practically pressing on eachother. Kuroo’s lips lay a mere centimeter away from (Y/n), one push from Bokuto, one slip from Kuroo, hell, one little gust of wind and they’d lock lips anytime soon.

Kuroo couldn’t help but stare into (Y/n’s) wide eyes with a sweaty, flushed face. (Y/n) couldn’t tear his eyes off of Kuroo’s half-lidded golden ones, especially with the way his lips were so tantalizingly close…

They jumped, however, when Bokuto kicked over a bucket with a loud “Hey, hey, hey!”. They both tensed as Bokuto pouted once more.

“I know you two are in here-!”

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto whipped his head around.

“Akgashfgjhi!”

Akaashi held up a pair of light blue boxers. “He missed one. Put them on before your pants start to smell. We’ll find him later.”

When Akaashi appeared, (Y/n) didn’t know. Neither did Kuroo. Nevertheless, Bokuto swiped the boxers from Akaashi gratefully, and turned back to the “empty” room.

“I’ll pay you back for this! Stupid Kuroo! Dumb rooster! I’m comin’ back for my underwear! Hey, hey, hey!”

Bokuto’s voice faded away as he left the storage room. Kuroo sighed in relief. (Y/n’s) head and vision felt hazy and cloudy as Kuroo let out a breathy laugh, still very close to each other's faces.

“I bet Bokuto wasn’t wearing any underwear, how disgusting.” Kuroo chuckled, beginning to pull away from their very cramped position in the corner. (Y/n) looked at Kuroo’s shiny ember eyes, down to his plush-looking lips. His face was still mere centimeters away from his own, then they locked eyes and suddenly (Y/n) wasn’t thinking about Yumemite or his regret anymore.

It wasn’t just a little kiss. Not like a little peck or a hesitant first kiss with your highschool boyfriend on your first date. It was grab-him-by-the-neck, bury-your-fingers-into-his-messy-hair, why-was-I-so-scared-about-loving-you-again kissing right against the wall of the storage closet.

(Y/n) pressed his back against the wall, bringing Kuroo in as close as his body could. Kuroo circled one of his hands around (Y/n’s) waist, letting the other rest on the wall and for seven seconds everything was bliss until-

Kuroo pushed himself back, pushing (Y/n) off him and letting his head hang down.

He pushed. (Y/n). Off. Of. Him. He wouldn’t mind if the wall would open up and swallow him whole. Kuroo didn’t look at him, he refused to, as he kept his arms on (Y/n’s) shoulders to keep his distance.

“...why did you do tha-”

“Don’t you like me, Tetsurou?”

Kuroo finally looked up at the waverly tamber of (Y/n) voice.

“...What?”

“Just a few days ago, you were telling me how much you loved me,” tears stung at (Y/n’s) eyes like heavy weights. He grasped onto Kuroo’s wrists that were on his shoulders, albeit a bit looser than it previously was. “Why is it any different now…?!”

“Wait-(Y/n-” Kuroo was cut off when (Y/n) gripped his wrists tighter.

“Did you...did you really get over me that quickly…? Do you really not love me anymore?!”

Tears began dripping down (Y/n’s) cheeks. Kuroo retracted his hands back, only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed and tugged harshly towards him.

“Wait, (Y/n), listen-”

“No! Shut up!” (Y/n) pushed Kuroo up against a rack behind him, drawing up a grunt from Kuroo. He was about to say something, or maybe push (Y/n’s) arms off of him, when he heard a choked sob, followed by wavering lips and free flowing tears. “It’s not fair..!”

“Why are these feelings coming back..?! Why now! ....I rejected you, there’s...there’s no way you’d like me now…! Especially how fine and buddy-buddy you’ve been acting, it’s clear you moved on! Why do I always choose to like you at the worst times?! Why…”

(Y/n) sobbed, tears cascading in the air as he shook Kuroo up. Kuroo was about to open his mouth again when it ran dry, as (Y/n’s) grip on his shirt tightened even more.

“Why do these feelings always come back when you’re done with me?! When you don’t like me! It won’t leave me alone…! I waited and waited and waited and the one chance I had I threw it away…! But then I just had to love you again when you moved on!”

He melted into a pile of hics and violent sobs, grasping onto Kuroo’s shirt for dear life. Kuroo couldn’t find the words to speak at that moment. He hesitantly put his hands on (Y/n), stabilizing him as he cried into his chest.

“S’not fair...it’s not…” (Y/n) hiccuped. “Not fair...it’s alway you...why do I always come back...to you…”

Kuroo stayed silent for a second. (Y/n), once again, wished the wall would swallow him up. Kuroo then trailed his hand up to (Y/n’s) damp cheek, guiding it up to look at his face.

“When have I ever said I was over you, (Y/n)…” Kuroo’s voice was soft, gentle and scared of shattering the glass that was (Y/n). “Actually...as iffy as it seems...you saying all of this made me sorta...happy…”

(Y/n) sniffed, staring at Kuroo with raw eyes and waiting for him to go on. Kuroo stroked his face with his thumb, catching any stray tears falling from his eye.

“I’ve been really, really sad since you rejected me...I guess I was just that good of an actor since you didn’t notice how much I thought about kissing you and holding you like this everyday while we hung out as ‘friends’…”

Kuroo let his head loll back onto the metal pole rack behind him. “I was just pretending to be happy being your friend—when actually I just wanted to tear my eyes out and scream how much I love you, (Y/n).”

Kuroo gently grasped (Y/n’s) hand, giving him a tentative kiss on the knuckles. (Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, before cupping the hand resting on his cheek. Kuroo looked up from his hand. “This ok?” He asked. (Y/n) nodded with eyes red and numb from crying.

“Then how about this?”

The hand that was resting placidly on (Y/n’s) face brought him closer and closer until their lips met once more.

Kuroo snaked his arms around his waist, pulling him in closer until their bodies were touching. (Y/n) suddenly understood why people described kissing as melting, because every single square inch of his body dissolved into his. He felt weak in the knees, and all of his guilt, all of his regret washed away with each passing second he was in Kuroo’s arms.

Eventually, the two separated for air, half lidded eyes and staring into each other like one would disappear the moment they took their eyes off of them.

Kuroo buried himself into the crook of (Y/n) neck, inhaling deeply. “Aaaaah, i’m so happy right now…”

As Kuroo nuzzled into his shoulder, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think about how much of an absolute mess this whole thing was. Sobbing onto Kuroo, violently shaking him while screaming in his face about how much he loved him, before kissing him again in the corner of a dark storage closet. It was a mess, sure, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that was something.

——————

Haha..pls...giv serotonin in the comments or reblog tags or smth...would like...to hear...

#kuroo fluff #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x male reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo angst #haikyuu male reader

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

Note

Hey! For the Taylor Swift / Harry Potter prompt thing could you please do Fred and I Think He Knows? Much thanks!!❤️❤️

PROMPT: based on i think he knows by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N drunkenly confesses her feelings.

WC: 2.1K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

i think he knows (f.w one shot)

“Ron,” you hissed from across the table. The boy remained oblivious, munching down on the pile of breakfast he dumped on his plate. He seemed to inhale the food, nevermind with chewing and actually tasting it. He just swallowed it in large pieces to make room in his mouth for some more eggs and hashbrowns. You flicked a piece of balled up napkins towards him, “Ron!”

“Blimey, Y/N,” he finally looked away from his food and shot you an annoyed look. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I think he knows,” you whispered, chewing on your bottom lip, nervously.

“Who? Fred?”

You rolled your eyes, looking over to where the older twin sat a few people away from the both of you, “Who else, you idiot? Yes Fred!”

“I doubt it,” Ron shrugged, returning to his plate of food, like you were just a distraction to him, not much of a best friend. “He’s an oblivious git. He probably doesn’t know.”

“Probably?!” you half shrieked, half whispered. It was loud enough for the twins to hear, looking at you concernedly. You sent a shy wave their way and hid behind the comfort of your hands. “I want to jump off the Astronomy tower.”

“Well, he’s gonna find out if you keep acting like this, Y/N,” he stated, obviously. Again, you flicked a balled up napkin his way, not really appreciating his tone with you. He flicked it back, “I’m just saying, stop acting suspicious and just act normal.”

Act normal, you thought, that’s easy enough, right?

But what the hell does normal even mean?

You knew you probably shouldn’t have drank so much. Your tolerance has deteriorated tremendously after not drinking for a year but when Angelina kept offering you shots, you couldn’t refuse. Now, the common room seemed to spin around after each step you took, leading you back to where you started. Right beside the table of half eaten snacks and spiked drinks.

The Gryffindor team won the Quidditch match today and after a long, hard, school week, the team decided it would be best to blow off some steam with a little party. Fred and George were across the room, surrounded by a group of adoring, young Gryffindors. They gushed around them, complimenting them on their amazing plays in today’s match. You knew they loved the attention with the way Fred couldn’t keep the twinkle in his eye subdued for too long and the way George nudged his brother’s side every time someone reenacted one of their moves. It wasn’t hard to believe that they were some of the most popular boys to ever strut on campus.

You took baby sips from your cup, watching the older twin intently. He wore a cozy-looking jumper, like his twin, making you think about how nice it would be to sleep in it with his scent filling your senses. His hair was a bit longer than usual, the side of it tucked behind his ear. His laughter was the only thing you could hear despite the loud music that Hermione’s Muggle radio played beside your ear. You were so focused on Fred that you didn’t notice Ron staring at you, trying to hold in his laughter.

“You’re so whipped.”

Startled, you clutched your chest and turned to your best friend. You smacked his upper arm, irritated that he always seems to catch you when you’re staring at his brother so hopelessly in love. “Can you shut up?”

Ron laughed, passing you his drink, “You need to get drunk.”

“Am I not already?”

“You’re in your ‘I’ll oggle at Fred’ phase drunk,” he explained, shoving his cup with mysterious liquor into your hand. “I need you at your ‘I have no filter so I say things that I’ll regret or will get me in trouble’ phase drunk. I need a good laugh.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but took the cup, nonetheless. “Aren’t you already having a field day with how pathetic I am pining after your brother?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, filling the cup up for you again. “But I want you to insult Pansy like last time. That was good fun.”

You took the drink in his hand, downing the entire liquid. You grimaced as it burned your throat, in a good way. You chuckled at the memory, sending your best friend a wink, “I’d fight Pansy sober.”

Four more drinks later, you were at that phase. Ron retired a bit early, mumbling something about wanting to get to the dormitories before Harry could stumble in with Ginny and scar him for life. You ignored him, not really wanting to picture that scene in your head. Now, you were bouncing off the walls, spewing out your deepest secrets to anyone that dared to listen.

You were having good fun until you tried to refill your cup and a hand grabbed yours, preventing you from doing so. You were about to protest when you looked up and saw a redhead. Usually you would be able to tell the twins apart because you know Fred and you know George, but whatever it was that Ron gave you, made your vision so blurry you couldn’t possibly tell them apart. Maybe you just drank too much tonight.

“I think that’s enough,” he chuckled, pulling the cup away from you. “Want me to take you back to your dormitory?”

You pursed your lips, trying to figure out which twin it was that’s speaking to you. The harder you tried, the harder it seemed to be. They were both handsome, no doubt about it, but with Fred you usually felt your chest tighten and your mouth going dry. The problem is, you’ve drank so much that you emotionally felt numb and your mouth is already dry from the alcohol in your system. Finally, you decided to guess. It’s a 50/50 shot after all.

“Sure, Georgie, I’d appreciate that,” you mumbled, walking alongside him towards the way to the girls’ dormitories. “Your arsehole of a brother left me by myself. Can you believe that?”

Fred was almost offended that you couldn’t tell him and George apart, almost. But he took a look at your inebriated state and decided that he’ll let you slide this time. Plus, he heard a lot about your ‘truth serum’ phase drunk but he was yet to experience it, until today. He found it quite charming, but then again, he always found you charming.

He’s had a crush on you for so long. One day you walked into the Burrow, and suddenly you were no longer his little brother’s best friend. You were Y/N. And he fell head over heels for you. Fred found you funny and gorgeous and sweet and so adorably cute, that sometimes George would have to hit him in the back of the head to get him to stop daydreaming over you. But alas, he thought you only saw him as your best friend’s brother.

“I’ve got a lot of brothers, Y/N,” he chuckled beside you, arms at the ready in case you were about to fall over. “You’ve got to be more specific than that, love. You talking about Percy? Ron, maybe? Fred?”

“Well, Percy is an arse but for a whole different reason,” you started, as if pondering the moments that you personally disliked his brother. This pulled out a snort from Fred because he agreed with you. Percy was an arse. You continued, “But no, I’m talking about Ronald, of course! He just leaves me there at a party that he dragged me into!”

“Yeah, that’s a dick move, innit?”

“I’d say so,” you hummed. Before you could stop yourself from talking, the alcohol took over your senses. “I’d never call Fred an arse, you see. I think he’s far too fit to be an arse.”

As you entered your dormitory, Fred’s eyebrows shot up. Did you just call him fit? He led you to your bed, watching fondly as you plopped down on the cushion, “Is that so?”

“Definitely,” you chuckled, burying your head into your pillow. “Don’t tell him this, Georgie, but I fancy him. I fancy him a lot.”

“Do you now?” Fred’s cheeks reddened as he watched you nod and smile up at him, eyes droopy.

“Yeah, I do,” you sat up, raising your pinky up in the air. “Pinky promise me that you won’t tell Freddie? Or-or use that twin telepathy thing that I think you guys have! Please, Georgie, you can’t tell him. I’ll be far too embarrassed if you do.”

Unable to fight the smile on his face, he linked your pinkies together, “I promise, Y/N. But I don’t think you’d get embarrassed if he found out. Anyone would be lucky to have you have a crush on them.”

“You’re sweet, Georgie,” you smiled, already half-asleep. “If only Fred thought the same as you.”

Fred laughed as you dozed off, leaning against your bedpost. He draped a blanket over your small figure and placed a kiss on your temple before whispering, “He does. Goodnight, love.”

“I’m never drinking again,” you groaned, rubbing your head with your hands. Hermione laughed beside you, ushering you to continue walking to get some breakfast to nurse your hangover. “I can’t believe I told George about my crush on Fred.”

“Well, he’s bound to find out anyway,” she shrugged as you two sat in front of Ron and Harry.

“Find out what?” Harry asked, not bothering to greet the two girls with a good morning. And to be honest, with the way you looked like you’d just been pulled out of another dimension, he assumed it has not been a good morning so far.

Hermione giggled as she filled her plate, “Y/N told George about her crush on Fred last night.”

“Correction,” you interrupted, “Drunk Y/N did. Sober Y/N is regretting that decision.”

“Wait you told George? When?” Ron asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Did you tell him before he came into my room to show me a prototype for their shop?”

You stared at Ron like he was stupid, “What are you on? He walked me to my room last night.”

“No, he was in my room last night.”

“Well, he can’t be at two places at once, can he, Ronald?” you sighed a hint of attitude in your tone, shaking your head at your friend. The table froze, jaws hanging wide, before you caught on. Oh shit. You gasped, clasping your palm over your mouth, “Please tell me I didn’t.”

Ron erupted in unsympathetic giggles, laughing at your pale complexion, “Y/N, you told Fred you fancied him!”

Eyes wide, you shook your head furiously, “No I didn’t!”

“Well now we know why you’re not a Ravenclaw,” Harry added, joining Ron in his laughter fit.

“Shut it, Potter!” you hissed, dropping your head in your hands. This cannot be happening. “Godric, please can the universe just eat me alive now?”

“Well now, he definitely knows.”

“Ronald, stop it.” Hermione poked your side, a terrified look on her face. “Uh, Y/N?”

“What?” Just as you thought things couldn’t get worse, Fred was walking to where you’re sat. Your heart was jumping in your chest. Your palms grew sweaty and you couldn’t stop your foot from nervously tapping on the floor. Should I run, you thought, or should I just act like nothing happened?

Before you could make a decision, Fred took a seat beside you.

“Hello, darling,” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

You squirmed in your seat, trying to ignore Ron and Harry’s muffled giggles in the back. You gulped, “Hiya, Fred. How you doin’ today?”

“Lovely, thanks for asking,” he replied, a smile still etched on his face. He cocked his head to the side, “And yours, love?”

You swallowed down the butterflies that flew in your stomach. You played with your thumbs, unable to look at him in the eye. “Fine.”

“Good, good.”

“Yup.”

“Well, good talking to you,” Fred got up and dusted his pants, leaving you dumbfounded in your seat. Was that it? Well, you thought, that wasn’t so bad. You turned around, offering him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, before turning back around and returning to your food.

“That was anticlimactic, wasn’t it?” Ron frowned.

“Oh, Y/N,” Fred stopped and walked over to you again. He leaned down so close that you could smell the mint toothpaste he used that morning. His breath tickled your ear, making you shiver. Fred’s lips touched the skin that connected your neck and your ear, pressing a soft kiss there. Then he whispered, “I fancy you, too.”

He shot you a wink before walking away. You blushed furiously, fingers raising up to trace the place where his lips once were. Grinning at your friends, you breathed out, “I think he knows.”

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@rexorangecouny

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #frances x taylor swift x harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x yn #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley one shot #frances writes #frances song fics

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