#i cried like a bitch after reading that dj | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kimvvantae · 5 years ago

Text

puzzle; 6 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, unprotected sex (use condoms y’all kids)

rating: 18+

word count: 13k wooohoooooo

A/N: i listened to the same 4 songs over and over again while writing and i think it kind of sets the mood for this chapter so hm if you guys like listening to music while reading here goes a small playlist:

Jungkook - If you (read the lyrics pls)

Whitesnake - Is This Love

BTS - Jamais Vu

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

“You’re acting weird.”

You finally look up when you hear this, just to see Hoseok frowning at you.

“I’m not.” You’re quick to say, shrugging.

“You’re really acting weird. Is everything okay?” Hoseok insists, crossing his arms.

Hoseok is not what bothers you the most, though, but another pair of eyes watching you like a hawk.

Jimin knows why you’re acting weird. Since that day at Joy’s house, he has been staring at you like this constantly - half judging, half worried.

It’s very annoying, to be honest.

“I’m just… a little bit stressed.” You admit, shrugging again. Fortunately, Hoseok isn’t as observant as Jimin, so he seems convinced.

“So, what did you guys want?” You ask, changing the topic. They came after you in the cafeteria while you have lunch after all.

“Ah! I almost forgot,” Hoseok starts. “You quit your job at the coffee shop, right?”

“Yes. It was way too stressful and my boss was a bitch.” You huff.

“So you’ll be free this weekend?” He asks. You nod, but if he’s about to invite you to a party or something, you’re ready to say no. “The thing is, you know that me and Jimin have this job as waiters, right? There’s a wedding this weekend and they’re needing staff. So, if you’re interested, you can come with us on Saturday night. The payment is decent and it’s just easy stuff to do.”

Your mood lightens up at this. “Yeah, sure! I’ll go. I really need money right now.”

Hoseok smiles and claps his hands together. “Alright! I’ll send you all the information later. They’ll give you a uniform, so don’t worry about clothes. I have to go now. Bye!”

He leaves.

Jimin stays.

You just keep eating quietly, Jimin’s heavy gaze on you, until you finally get annoyed.

“Jimin, what do you want?” You cross your arms and glare back.

Jimin slowly quirks one eyebrow. “Won’t you ask me if Jungkook’s going?”

“Why would I ask if he’s going or not?”

“Because you guys aren’t talking anymore.”

“Thank you so much for reminding me of this, Jimin."

He realised that he went a little too far just by seeing your clenched jaw and the anger in your eyes. Jimin sighs and shrugs. "Anyways, yes, Jungkook is going. But not to work as a waiter, he’ll take pictures instead.”

“So what?"

Jimin swipes his hand over his face and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. "I think you’re so stupid. Both of you. My fucking God.”

“You know what, Jimin? That’s none of your business.” You finally get up and take the tray rather roughly, walking away without looking back.

Maybe you were a little too rude with Jimin, but he’s being unbearable these days.

It’s been one month since that day at Joy’s house - one month since you and Jungkook have been avoiding each other like the plague.

And maybe you were a little too rude with him because deep down, you know he’s right.

As usual.

tae: wyd?? 👀👀

you: working

tae: ??? didn’t u quit ur job

you: yea

you: it’s one night thing

you: i need the 💸💸

tae: oh

tae: ok

tae: i’ll ask later then

you: wAIT

you: ask what??????

tae: later

tae: u should work first~

you: but im curious

you: i can’t work if im curious >:(

tae: 🙊

you: tae????

you: taeeeeeeee

you: TAEHYUNG

He doesn’t reply anymore.

You groan, shoving your phone on your back pocket again, and leave the restroom. The guests hadn’t arrived yet since the wedding ceremony is still ongoing, but the kitchen is already a mess: people yelling orders, the delicious scent of good food in the air, cooks cooking (duh) and waiters getting ready. The boss has already given you the last instructions, but it’s not as if working in an event like this is a difficult task: serve the guests, smile, be polite, walk around the hall, try not to break the crystal glasses that cost more than what you can pay.

The hotel is pretty fancy, actually. You were expecting a smaller wedding. Not that this is a problem, of course. The only problem here are the heels that all women are forced to use; it’s not too high, but walking around endlessly the whole night in these will be painful for sure. The rest of the uniform is that standard - black pants, white button shirt, black vest and bow tie, hair tied in a perfect high bun, simple makeup.

You walk to the hall to make the last adjustments in the decoration. Pretty much everything is in place, so there isn’t much to do. The tables are organized, the floor is pristinely clean, the white flower bouquets are in place. A DJ will be in charge of music tonight.

You stand at the back of the hall, almost hidden, just to check your phone once more; no new texts. Now, you can’t stop thinking about what Taehyung wants to ask. He knows you’d get all curious. You and Taehyung have grown closer these days: late phone calls, endless texts, random memes at random times. You hadn’t gone on a proper date yet, though - and you don’t think you want to.

Taehyung is a nice guy and a good friend, but you don’t want to take things to the next level - even though this seems to be Taehyung’s intention since the beginning. He has been insisting in you for quite a long time now meanwhile all you do is keep a certain distance. You didn’t really give him any real hopes yet and you’re afraid that Taehyung might be reading your actions in the wrong way. Truth be told, it’ll be so shitty of you to keep his hopes high when you won’t go anywhere with this.

Your feelings are all messed up.

Because you shouldn’t even be feeling anything in the first place.

Ironically, you’ve never been friends with benefits with anyone before. You did have some fuck buddies in the past, though - but you were never friends with any of them. You never got involved with any of your actual friends. Sure, there was that night when drunk-you and drunk-Jimin made out at a party (you don’t talk about it), but at that time, you had just joined college and neither you nor Jungkook were close to Jimin yet, so it doesn’t really count. Also, you and Jimin never had sex - you just kissed, nothing more.

But of course dumb you had to be friends with benefits with your best fucking friend. Of course you had to destroy your friendship like that. Everyone knows that sex is a friendship destroyer. Everyone!

One month without Jungkook felt like being in the desert without rain. You have good friends, but none of them are that special person that’s somehow able to read you mind and understand you even if you don’t say anything. None of them know the type of meme you’d laugh at, none of them sent you random snaps at random times of the day. Worst of all - you didn’t watch Endgame together, when you’ve been watching every Marvel film together ever since you both started obsessing over heroes years ago. Every. Single. Marvel. Film.

You didn’t get to see Jungkook crying during the last scenes of Endgame. Jimin didn’t say if he cried or not, but you know he cried.

That’s devastating.

Truth be told, you don’t even miss sex. Sure, you and Jungkook are the perfect match in bed, and you caught yourself masturbating at night wishing it were Jungkook’s fingers inside of you instead (touching yourself has never been so depressing), but what you actually miss to the point it hurts your chest are the small, familiar things. The comfortable silence. The funny banter. Going to Burger King together late at night after a party or when none of you want to cook. Showing each other funny videos or discussing about the latest chapter of the manga you’re both reading. Jungkook ignoring your texts for hours because he’s too focused on playing Overwatch. You even miss the way he never lets you eat the last slice of pizza, goddammit.

You simply miss him.

What leads you to another thought - something that has been growing stronger in your mind.

After days of self denial, you finally admitted that you were jealous of Jungkook and Joy.

There’s no other explanation for the way you acted that day at her house. You were mad that she was touching him and getting too close. That’s weird. You’ve never really been the jealous type. You never minded when people tried to flirt with Jungkook.

You’re not jealous of friends.

Even so, you had a jealousy attack and didn’t rest until Jungkook’s attention was yours again.

Being totally honest with yourself, you’ve been jealous of Joy ever since you found out she was interested in him.

…what the fuck?

Something inside of you have changed, and only now you’re brave enough to admit. Somewhere along the road, you stopped seeing Jungkook as just a friend. He’s currently in that blurry and confusing level - not only a friend, but at the same time, not more than a friend. You don’t know what the fuck he is anymore.

More importantly… do you want to be more than friends?

If you and Jungkook make up, will you be able to go back to what it was - just friends?

Or are you just being possessive? Did you start seeing him in a different way just because you realized you’re about to lose him?

You don’t know the answer to none of those questions. What you know at the moment is that being away from him fucking hurts. You have the same friends, go to the same places, study at the same university, but barely see each other anymore. What’s that thing people say? You just start valuing things after you lose them.

Jimin asked you not to play with Jungkook’s feelings. What he doesn’t know, though, is that you’re so confused about yours that you don’t have time to play with his feelings.

When you realize the guests are about to come, you force your brain to focus on your current task. You stand back with the rest of the waiters as, slowly, the elegant guests get into the hall, sitting at their respective tables, and soon the place is filled with conversation, laughter and music.

After everyone took their places, the main couple finally come.

The lights change. The DJ plays a special song. Guests stand up and applaud when they enter the hall, smiling, and walk to the center to have their first dance as a married couple.

You could have noticed how the bride’s dress was beautiful. You could have noticed how her front teeth was dirty with lipstick and how the groom tried to discreetly tell her about this. You could have even noticed how one of the kids was starting to have a tantrum and his mother half-screamed, half-whispered, if you don’t be quiet you’ll be grounded for one month!

But you don’t notice any of that, because the photographer enters the hall right after the couple does.

Your heart flutters in a funny way.

Jungkook is wearing a suit (you don’t even remember the last time you saw him in a suit); black and simple, but it fits him so well. He isn’t much different from all the other man, except for his long hair - his black hair is so long he can probably tie it now - and his ear piercings. He holds his camera to eye level, capturing every moment he can from the couple’s first dance, a backpack with other tools hanging from his shoulder.

Everyone else is focusing on the couple - but you can’t look at anything else but him.

He looks so handsome and focused and hot and-

Hey, you’re here to work!, you remind yourself angrily, shaking your head and walking back to the kitchen.

Drink after drink, tray after tray - you and the other waiters and waitresses walk around the hall to serve the guests. It’s not a difficult work, but still tiring nevertheless. It’s also hard to balance yourself and the trays with these high heels. Soon, you’re immersed in the work and momentarily forget about everything else, although (unconsciously) you try to avoid being seen by a specific someone.

Time passes by and the party goes on. Parents make heartfelt speeches, everyone cries. The DJ plays popular songs and soon the dancefloor is full. Alcohol already starts to get into their heads. Men are either speaking and laughing too loud or crying, hugging the groom. Women already forgot their high heels and their elegance, twerking shamelessly and screaming. Kids do the usual - run, yell, fall and cry - and they almost throw you on the ground twice. Someone spills champagne on the floor; you rush to clean it before someone ends up slipping. There’s the eventual noise of glass breaking. A certain dude has asked for your help far too much and you start to avoid him, noticing that he’s staring at your ass. Another guest pukes and is taken to the infirmary. As usual, you hear old women complaining about the food, how the decoration is ugly, how one waiter was rude, how the DJ doesn’t play the songs they want-

“The photographer is so hot! What’s his name?!” You hear someone giggling.

You gulp.

Jungkook is just doing his job, but that boy can’t go unnoticed, not even when he tries. You don’t know if he saw you yet, and honestly, you hope he didn’t.

Just do your job. Just do your job.

The night goes on. Your left foot hurts and you need to pee, but gladly most of the guests have already left - the groom and bride left first and the party went on without them -, the hall is almost empty, which means it’s almost ending. Now, you busy yourself with cleaning the hall.

“Man, I’m dead,” Hoseok groans, stretching his back. You nod, putting some empty glasses on a tray to take them back to the kitchen.

“Now imagine bearing it all in heels,” you say, not being able to keep your nice posture anymore. Not that there are many guests anyway - most are too drunk or sleeping on the tables. The DJ is still diligently playing, though.

“The night was productive after all,” Jimin chirps happily, approaching you two with a smug grin on his lips. You see he’s holding a small paper between his fingers… someone’s phone number.

“Son of a bitch,” you say under your breath. Jimin just shrugs and smirks. Much obviously, you apologized for your rudeness before you came. The fact that he forgave you so easily made everything worse, honestly. Jimin is a nice guy with his friends (way too nice for his own good sometimes) and it just shows how he doesn’t deserve to be treated in a rude way.

“I’m just taking the chances life gives me!” He chirps again, making you roll your eyes.

“Anyways, what’s wrong with Jungkook?” Hoseok wonders, crossing his arms and frowning. “He didn’t come over the entire night. Is he avoiding us?”

You gulp.

Instantly, your eyes travel to where he stands in the nearly-empty dance floor. He smiles politely to some women that stand around him. Everyone’s obviously too drunk and they’re probably talking nonsense.

He’s avoiding me, you realize sadly.

“He’s working, Hoseok. His job won’t end if the guests keep asking for pictures.” Jimin is quick to say, what indeed makes sense, but Jimin also knows very well why he has been keeping his distance. Hoseok is the only one that doesn’t notice the strange tension in the air.

When you notice you’ve been staring for an embarrassing long time, you immediately shift your gaze to the dirty plates in front of you, organizing them in a pile to take them to the kitchen. You came here to work. That’s it. Focus-

An excited scream tears the air.

“I loooove this song!” One of the girls on the dance floor scream, the one that has been clinging on Jungkook ever since the crowd started to dissipate. Much obviously tipsy, her eyes were glued on him the entire night (not that you’ve been noticing the people checking him out. Of course not). “Jungkookie, dance with me!”

You almost gasp.

Jungkookie?!

That’s when you finally notice the face Jungkook is making - and you try your best not to laugh.

He has that look that means oh my fucking God someone please take me out of this situation.

The two boys by your side don’t try to hide the laughter as well as you, watching the desperate Jungkook try to turn her offer down - an awkward smile, eyes shifting from her, a muttered apology (I still have some work to do…) but the thirsty girl is surprisingly insistent (you can stop for a little bit, come on!).

“I feel sorry for him,” Hoseok almost chokes as he tries to stop his giggles. You kind of feel sorry, too. He can’t be rude to a customer, otherwise he’d be punched by her relatives - not that Jungkook would be rude anyway. He steps back, scratches the back of his neck. The girl is almost climbing him. He looks around desperately, trying to find a way to escape-

“Why don’t you help him, Y/N?” Jimin says sweetly.

You side eye the sugar-coated snake you call friend. “Jimin.” Is all you say in a warning manner.

Someone that doesn’t understand the situation wouldn’t think anything weird, because you’re actually used to save Jungkook from crazy girls. The thing is, sometimes he’s too nice to turn girls down - and yes, girls do chase him. When he’s not interested in them, you’d usually understand the situation and run on his rescue, most times pretending to be his girlfriend so the girls would stop bothering him. It’s something funny and you’d always laugh your asses off right after.

Not now.

You definitely don’t want to laugh now.

Jimin is being far from innocent. He just wants to push you two into each other. He may have good intentions, but he’s not considering the fact that you don’t feel ready to face Jungkook - not when your feelings are so messed up. This ain’t happening.

“Yeah, Y/N. Jungkook looks pretty desperate,” Hoseok remarks, again, oblivious to the tension lingering in the air.

“Jungkook can handle himself very well. He doesn’t need my help.” Even though Jimin feels your menacing glare and sees your jaw clench, this boy is very brave and insists:

“Come on, Y/N! It won’t hurt.” He says innocently.

Yes, it will hurt. It already hurts, dumbass.

“Did you guys forget that we’re here to work? I don’t want to be reprimanded.”

“The hall is near empty. There’s literally nothing to do anymore.” Hoseok doesn’t understand why you’re glaring at him now.

You’re trying to control your nerves, but it’s getting hard not to feel your stomach jump in a weird way and your fingertips tremble. Just the idea of approaching him makes you weak, and not in a good way. Why these people can’t just leave you alone?!

“Do you think that avoiding him forever will work?” Jimin hisses on your ear, low enough so only you can listen, finally showing how pissed he really is.

What he says gets you.

Avoiding each other isn’t working, you know this very well. You remember the way you used to deal with things in the past - talking. Sure, you won’t be able to really talk right now, but at least you’ll have a chance to approach him.

You don’t want to. You really don’t. But at the same time, you want to. You miss Jungkook.

Besides, he can’t run away from you in this situation.

You take a deep breath and gulp, trying to ease the tension. Come on. I know Jungkook. He’s the same bastard I’ve known my whole life. Stop being a pussy. I’m not a pussy!

“Just to make clear,” you whisper back to Jimin. “I fucking hate you.”

“You love me.” You wish you could rip that triumphant smirk off his face.

You walk over to the dance floor.

The few couples dance slowly and intimately. Because of course it had to be a slow dance. Of course it had to be a romantic song. Haha. Of course. The Universe must be playing some trick on you.

Jungkook managed to run away from the girl, trying to hide in the corner of the hall, and she’s searching for him like a hawk. You wonder if she’s this drunk or if she’s just stupid. A guy literally running away from you isn’t already a message enough?

You walk quickly to where he stands, and the moment Jungkook turns around and lays his eyes on you, shock covers his features.

“Y/N-?”

“Quick, dance with me,” you say hurriedly, placing his hands on your waist. “She’s coming.”

Instead of questioning, Jungkook immediately starts to play along as you place your own hands on his shoulders. You discreetly watch when the girl finally finds you.

She stops on her tracks.

“She saw us?” He asks without looking back.

“Yes.”

“And?”

You see fire in her eyes.

“If she had a gun, she’d probably shoot me.” The girl looks outraged that you stole her chance to grind on him. “Oh, she’s turning away.”

Jungkook sighs in relief. “Thanks God. She’s been bothering me all night!” You can’t help but giggle.

For a millisecond, it feels like nothing has changed.

But then you look at each other for the first time.

It might be dramatic, but you almost feel that the temperature drops around you.

Oh shit.

You avoid each other’s gazes at the same time. It feels so tremendously awkward to be in front of him again - especially when you’re slow dancing in the dim light of the hall, almost hidden. It feels uncomfortably intimate. Especially because you’re both keeping a distance that normal couples wouldn’t. You probably look like a weird couple at a prom party that were forced to dance together.

It feels foreign.

The way you touch each other doesn’t feel right. You have touched each other in the most intimate and obscene ways, yet the simple touch of his hands on your waist doesn’t feel right. Despite this, you feel your blood boiling with a strange type of excitement; you missed him so damn much. Even in this uncomfortable situation, you can’t help but feel a little bit happy. You didn’t know you’ve been craving for his touch so much up until now.

What’s weird is that you don’t even feel like this in a sexual way. You’re not aroused. Considering how your relationship became strictly sexual these past months, your lack of arousal to be around him is weird.

The butterflies in your stomach and the way your hands are shaking a little bit is also weird.

For some moments, you just sway from side to side in an overwhelming silence. You have no choice but to listen intently to the song being played. As if you already don’t feel fucked up enough, you’re forced to listen to a love song - an 80s love song on top of that. Of course it has to be Is This Love by Whitesnake. Of course. Haha.

“Uhm… thanks.” Jungkook finally breaks the silence. His voice lacks confidence. He probably never talked to you like this.

“Just helping out a friend,” you say and instant regret smashes you. You don’t know if he’s still your friend.

Jungkook looks scarily annoyed for a second. “A friend. Sure.”

Is it inappropriate to notice how he looks handsome when he clenches his jaw?

Honestly, has Jungkook always been this handsome?

Sure, he has always been like this. Maybe not seeing him in a long time made you feel this way. His hair has grown a lot. He looks extra fine in this suit. Every man looks better in a suit, but Jungkook looks like a deity.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy.

You did miss him a lot.

The silence makes you pay attention to the song again.

Wasted days and sleepless nights

But I can’t wait to see you again…

Hah, I know how it feels, you think - what makes you widen your eyes, shocked with your own thoughts. No. You won’t suddenly relate to a cliche 80s love song.

Right?

“H-How’s school going?” You stutter. Are you trying to do small talk? For real?

“It’s doing fine,” he simply says. Oh fuck. Not good. He sounds so uninterested in your weak attempt at engaging a conversation it hurts. You came here to try and talk about what really matters, but you don’t feel ready to do it yet. Can’t he understand it?!

It looks like your presence bothers him, honestly.

That’s new.

Wow. Your heart suddenly feels clenched.

Awkward.

Why am I feeling this way?

A heavy silence weighs on you again. This isn’t going as planned - not that you planned anything in the first place. You’re going through a lot of weird sensations now.

Why is that?

You look at Jungkook timidly (timid and Jungkook are two words that used to not make any sense together in the past), but he doesn’t look back. You avoid his gaze again.

Being hit by a truck would hurt less.

What’s happening?

Why are you so damn confused?

When the song hits its chorus, you start to think the Universe is definitely playing with you. The deep voice of the singer floats in the air:

Is this love

That I’m feeling?

Is this the love

That I’ve been searching for?

Fuck you, Whitesnake.

For real.

Fuck. You.

“Did Taehyung ask you?”

This brings you back to reality in an instant.

“What?” You look at him, confused. Why is he talking about Taehyung of all people out of nowhere?

You’ve always been very good at reading Jungkook, but right now, he’s unreadable.

“So he didn’t.” He says blatantly, devoid of any emotion. “I thought he would have already.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He talked to me about a double date.” Jungkook replies, looking back at you for the first time - again, a blank face. “You and him, me and Joy.”

Your blood honestly feels like frost.

It’s like you lost the ability to move or talk for a moment. You blink and gulp, trying to keep composed.

“What? Why?”

“Because he said it’d be fun. And less awkward, since I’m not very close to Joy yet and you’re not very close to him.”

Again, you don’t say anything for long seconds.

“But we’d just be cockblocking each other during the whole date,” you say.

“I know. I think the idea of a double date sounds weird, too. It’s not as if we don’t know them.”

You remember what Taehyung texted you earlier today; he said he’d ask something later. Is he going to ask you out?

He thinks that, since you and Jungkook are best friends, you could ease the tension and even help each other out.

This is so fucked up.

The immediate answer that comes to your mind is no. You don’t want to go on a date with Taehyung when you’re not interested in him. It’d be cruel; you don’t want to keep his hopes high.

But as you’re about to say it, you stop.

What if Jungkook wants to go?

All this time, you’ve only been considering your feelings. Your confusion, your wishes - it’s always about you. You don’t know if you want to be just Jungkook’s friend, but you don’t know if he wants to be more than a friend - or if he wants to be your friend at all. The fuck buddies thing started because you asked. Not even once did you think about him.

Is this what Jimin meant when he asked you to not play with Jungkook’s feelings?

How selfish you’ve been acting all this time?

What if he’s been developing feelings for Joy and now decided to try something? He’s probably feeling hurt because you’ve not been acting like a good friend. You’re always putting yourself first.

That’s why you hear yourself asking:

“Do you want to go?”

It’s scary how every tiny little piece of you wishes he’ll say no.

But Jungkook tilts his head and says:

“Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we can part ways as soon as we get there.”

And this is the moment you feel as cold as you’ve never felt in your life.

It’s as if your ears got obstructed for a moment, because you can’t hear anything but your heartbeat. You can’t even see properly for a second. Yet, you ignore all that, gulp and nod.

It’s time to be a good friend for once.

It’s time to put Jungkook’s wishes first - even though it crushes your heart.

“Okay.” You say quietly.

You’re coming to the conclusion that you’re a walking disaster.

You’ve never been so nervous before a date in your life - but this is not the usual type of nervousness, when people are excited to meet their crush and impress them etc etc. You’re nervous because you don’t want to go. You thought of coming up with a thousand excuses (from the classical “I’m sick :(” to “Seulgi’s sick I gotta take care of her :(” to “my cat’s sick :(” but then you remembered you don’t have a cat to “I’m being chased by the police and I gotta leave the country :(”), but in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

Not when Taehyung sounded so painfully happy when you said you’d go.

That’s why you should have said no: Taehyung doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good person and he will certainly get hurt when you tell him you’re not interested. Who cares about Jungkook? That fucker can go on a date by himself, he’s not a kid anymore.

But…

There’s something very tiny and mean inside of you called jealousy that didn’t let you simply text an honest apology to Taehyung.

And now it’s too late, because he’s standing at your door.

Handsome as always, Taehyung wears casual clothes: it’s almost as if he didn’t put much thought on it, but he still looks drop dead gorgeous on his black baggy pants, white shirt and black beret (no other man in this planet can manage to not look stupid in a beret other than Taehyung). As usual, your brain malfunctions as it tries to process his beauty.

He has a small, beautiful smile on his lips.

Shit.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. You did put some effort on your clothes, makeup and hair after all. Being complimented by him feels nice.

Shit.

“Thanks. You too, but that’s just your usual self,” you say thoughtlessly and instant regret slaps your face again. Yes, bitch. Flirt with him. Make things more difficult.

Taehyung looks shy for a moment. The sight is endearing.

S. H. I. T.

“You’re just being nice to me.” He tilts his head. “So, let’s go?"

It’s too late to go back now, so you have no choice but to take his arm and show your most plastic smile. "Yeah.”

You’re definitely a walking disaster.

You two arrive in the park first and, instead of just showing your tickets and getting in, you’re forced to wait for the bastard and his hot date.

An amusement park of all places.

Not that you hate amusement parks, it’s pretty much the opposite. It’s just that everything feels so wrong. Especially how Taehyung is making a lot of effort to keep the conversation alive while you wait. It’s not hard to talk to him, though, because he’s an interesting person, but seeing his efforts hurts.

What hurts more is the sight of Jungkook and Joy arriving with locked arms.

You hope Taehyung didn’t notice you holding your breath.

Joy looks hot as always, but you don’t even look at her (yes, it’s not nice to be mad at someone that didn’t do anything wrong), eyes glued on Jungkook instead. Just like Taehyung, it seems that he didn’t put much thought on his clothes, only their styles are completely different: Jungkook wears an oversized grey t-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It might seem simple, but he can manage to look good in anything. Joy surely didn’t mind his choice of clothes.

You lock gazes for one second and proceed to avoid it.

The four of you greet. It’s hard to act natural, but you try to; you don’t want the two others to notice the weird tension between you and the black-haired bastard. Joy looks happy, too.

…

Shit.

Soon, you get into the amusement park. As expected, it’s crowded with kids, families and couples. The weather feels nice this afternoon.

“It’s been a long time since I don’t come to an amusement park,” you confess.

“Really? Then this was a good choice. I was worried if it’d be too cheesy…” he also confesses sheepishly.

“It’s not!” You reassure him. Joy agrees with you. Jungkook keeps silent. “I just have some traumatizing memories about amusement parks.”

Taehyung quirks one eyebrow. “What?”

You sigh.

You and Jungkook end up saying in unison:

“5th grade.”

You look at each other and avoid your gazes again.

“What? What happened on 5th grade?” Joy asks excitedly.

“Our school came to an amusement park that year,” Jungkook explains.

“Why was it traumatizing?” Taehyung still seems confused.

“Because… well…” you hesitate to say.

“Because she was so short back then that they didn’t let her go on the rollercoasters. And she cried the whole trip,” Jungkook suddenly says.

You glare at him.

He has a playful smirk on his lips.

“Oh, so what about you?” You can’t help but smile, too.

“What happened to him?” Joy asks.

“He laughed at me because I couldn’t ride, but he puked his lunch after he went on the coaster and spent half of the trip in the infirmary,” you reveal.

“You’re still bitter that you stayed with me in the infirmary?” He inquires.

“Of course I am! Also, you puked on my shoes!”

“I already apologized. Besides, I paid you banana milk for two entire weeks. Isn’t it enough?”

“It isn’t!”

“Are you saying that banana milk isn’t enough?!” He gasps. “You psycho.”

You both giggle.

Again, for one moment, it feels that everything is back to normal. You feel comfortable having these old memories, as if you never stopped being best friends, as if you have the intimacy to play like this again.

But it’s only for one moment.

You avoid gazes. It feels so out of place.

At least the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes shows that he feels the same about this all.

Before the tension between you two can become too strong, you change the topic and engage both Taehyung and Joy in the conversation - during that moment, you two forgot about them. As wrong as it is, Taehyung is your date for the night. He’s the one you should pay attention to.

So you try to completely ignore Jungkook’s existence for a while.

You only look at Taehyung and don’t even touch your phone. You answer his questions and ask things about him. It doesn’t feel like a punishment, though, because he is an interesting person and you genuinely enjoy his company.

But you can’t help but look at Jungkook from time to time.

You can’t help but notice his smiley-eyes as he looks at her. You can’t help but see their closure.

You can’t help but feel your heart clenching.

And then, you see yourself locking your arm with Taehyung’s.

“What’s that?” You say excitedly. “I wanna see it!”

You drag Taehyung away from the other couple until they disappear in the crowd. Only then you remember how to breathe again.

Considering all the odds, this going better than you expected.

You tried your best to completely erase Jungkook’s and Joy’s existence from your mind, and at some point it finally worked. Taehyung is a funny guy to be around. There’s something very particular and endearing about his personality that captivates you; he’s obviously trying to impress you, but he’s still being very honest. He has some type of innocence that makes you realize that this guy is seriously one of a kind. You can’t think of a single sign that he might be a bad person.

You’re genuinely enjoy this.

But not in the way Taehyung expects you to be enjoying it.

As wrong as it is, you unconsciously end up comparing him to Jungkook.

If Jungkook was your date, the first thing you’d both want to do is try all the rollercoasters and the wildest rides in this park. But Taehyung is scared of heights. You didn’t want to make the boy vomit his own stomach, so you ended up avoiding it - even though you really wanted to go on that orange coaster that looks high as fuck.

Taehyung didn’t really get your jokes. The fact that he still laughed politely is cute, but still - Jungkook and you have the same sense of humor. You two like the same stupid type of meme. It felt strange when you had to explain more than once a certain joke so Taehyung could understand.

Taehyung didn’t know your favorite ice cream flavor or your favorite soda. He doesn’t know the kind of movie you like, nor your favorite series, nor your favorite singers. You know you’re being stupid - the whole point of going on a date is to get to know each other, but every now and then you end up remembering how Jungkook knows every dumb detail about you…

What makes you realize that, as much as Taehyung is an amazing guy, you are too different from each other.

What also makes you realize that, maybe… you don’t really want to get to know anyone else.

And suddenly, an image starts to build in your mind - an image you try very hard to erase, but it’s already too strong to be forgotten.

Instead of Taehyung, you arm is locked with Jungkook’s. You’re both laughing and having fun, just like things used to be. Only now you’re not just friends.

It’s the first time in all these years that you see yourself dating Jungkook clearly. Painfully clearly.

The cotton candy you’re eating suddenly tastes like iron on your tongue. You feel your throat tightening. All of this became painful. The fact that you’re trying so hard to forget Jungkook for a few minutes, yet he’s everything you can think of. The fact that he’s in the same park as you having a date with another girl - said girl that is a friend, by the way, someone you encouraged to be with Jungkook, and now you’re hating her existence even though she did nothing wrong, all because of jealousy. There’s also the fact that Jungkook is much obviously avoiding you.

And the most painful fact of all-

“Are you okay, YN?” Taehyung asks, the smile vanishing from his lips the moment he sees your expression.

The fact that this incredible person likes you much more than you expected. It’s obvious now that you look at his eyes. He really likes you - a funny, smart and special guy, someone that didn’t check his phone not even once ever since this date started, someone that has been trying his hardest to make sure you’re having fun, a guy that is usually very confident, but at the moment looks very uneasy around you.

He’s the perfect guy. He wasn’t disrespectful, wasn’t trying to get into your pants, treated you very well. You went on dates that were far worse than this. There was nothing wrong with him. You’re also sure he’d be a loving and caring boyfriend.

But all you can think of is Jungkook.

And even though you knew this date wouldn’t work, you still accepted to come anyway. You kept Taehyung’s hopes high. Just because you were jealous.

You’re definitely the worst person on this planet.

But this has to end before Taehyung gets more hurt.

“I’m not feeling very well,” you hear yourself saying. Worry covers Taehyung’s features. “What’s the problem? Was it something you ate? Do you want to go to the infirmary?”

Damn. It hurts to see him like this.

“No. Can you… can you just take me home, please?” You ask sheepishly.

If Taehyung feels disappointed, he doesn’t let you see; he just nods instead. “Okay. Let’s go.”

And this is how you managed to destroy a perfectly fine night.

You still try not to think of Jungkook and Joy on your way back home; you don’t want to know if they’re still in the park or if they went somewhere else. The idea of what they must be doing makes your stomach twirl in a bad way. It feels like a weight installed itself on your shoulders. Everything seems too oppressive and suffocating. You can’t wait to be alone and peaceful to process all of these feelings. Fortunately, Seulgi isn’t home - she went to sleep at a friend’s house to finish a project.

For the first time, being with Taehyung feels awkward as you walk to the front door of your apartment. You can see he isn’t exactly glad. It makes everything worse.

You stop in front of the door and you turn around to face him. Everything you have to say must be said now.

“I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” You say in an embarrassed tone, scratching the back of your neck. “I ruined everything.”

“What? No!” He’s quick to reassure. God, his eyes are beautiful… “It’s not your fault. People feel ill, that’s normal.”

You gulp. Oh Gosh. He believed what you said. This is getting worse and worse… “I had a lot of fun today. Really.” You sigh and tilt your head tiredly. “Honestly, it was the most fun I had in a long time…”

“I had a lot of fun, too.” His smile is able to melt any frozen heart. “I noticed that you had a lot in mind, so I’m glad I was able to distract you at least a little.”

It gets you off guard.

He’s way more observant than you expected.

“You noticed…?” You gulp, even more embarrassed. He nods. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Everyone has a bad day every now and then. I just have to admit that I’m kind of worried about you.”

You stare at each other in silence for a while.

“Are you?” Why suddenly all you can do is make stupid questions?

Taehyung tilts his head. “Yes. You’re always such a bright person. Seeing you being quiet these days makes me sad.” First of all: did people start to realize that there’s something wrong with you? Are you acting this weird?

Second of all: that was adorable. He’s so honest about his feelings.

“To be honest, Taehyung… I’m not really a bright person,” you end up confessing in a quiet, weak voice. You don’t know why you’re saying this. You were supposed to push him away, not pull him closer. “I think I’m just used to pretend I am.”

“You don’t have to,” your eyes widen when you feel his fingertips brushing on your cheek as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not. To suppress this type of feeling… it hurts. Believe me, I know.” For a moment, you feel your breath hitch. The skin where his fingers touched feels warm. He’s mesmerizing. His voice sounds like a sweet melody on your ears: deep, silky. “So, if you ever feel like opening up… I’m here, okay?” He widens his eyes for a second. “I-I mean- you can open up to Seulgi or Jungkook or Jimin, sure… anyone.”

This moment of shyness coming from him makes you giggle. “I don’t feel like opening up to anyone right now,” especially not to you, you think. “but thank you, Tae. It… it makes me really happy. I’m glad I went on this date with you.”

You shouldn’t have said that.

You shouldn’t have called him Tae.

Even though you’re saying the truth and there’s no second intentions hidden, Taehyung hears something else.

His hand is still resting on your cheek.

And he says nothing.

He just… stares right into your eyes.

You can’t move.

You clearly see when his face starts coming closer and closer to yours, slowly but surely. You see his heavy-lidded eyes, his clouded gaze, his parted lips. You feel the thick tension in the air around you - the electricity.

That’s when you should have pushed him away.

But you can’t.

Instead, you unconsciously close your eyes. You feel his lips ghosting over yours for a second - until his lips finally touch yours.

The kiss is suave - gentle and delicate. He doesn’t move his lips at first, merely pressing his against yours. Your body warms up in a way you haven’t felt in a long time; not because of arousal. It’s the pure excitement of being kissed.

Maybe that’s why you let him kiss you. You had forgotten how it feels like to be touched without any sexual intention. Kisses are too intimate, so you and Jungkook didn’t really kiss that often - and when you did kiss, it was always heated and obscene, tongues entangling wildly until both of you could barely breathe. It’s been a long time since someone kissed and held you like this: with gentleness and care. Taehyung isn’t treating you like a sex toy.

You melt.

Your lips part as he deepens the kiss; he is undemanding, careful and delicate. His lips taste like lip balm. No one is fighting for control, no one is desperate. It’s slow and synchronized. It’s sweet and innocent. Most importantly - it’s way different than you ever expected it to be. You never thought he’d kiss like this.

When Taehyung pulls away, the purest smile adorns his features.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I should have asked permission.”

“It’s okay.” And it really is. You shouldn’t, but you liked it.

“I'll… I’ll get going.” He says, the smile never disappearing. His eyes are also smiling. He stands there awkwardly in an adorable manner. “Can I text you later?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Good night. And thank you again.”

Taehyung grins. “Good night.”

Before leaving, he presses his lips on yours quickly one last time.

You watch until he disappears inside the elevator, entering the apartment and standing there alone in the dark for a few seconds.

Then you unceremoniously slam your forehead against the wooden door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You hiss between gritted teeth. “What have you done?!”

You were supposed to push him away. You should have told him the truth - that you don’t have feelings for him, that you’re confused and almost certainly in love with another guy. Instead, you just stood there and let him kiss you. You not only kept his hopes high, you increased them.

How will you get yourself out of this situation now?!

You throw yourself on the couch, grab a cushion and scream into it. I’m the worst of the worst. I’m a walking catastrophe.

For a long time, you just lay there and torture yourself with bad thoughts. Taehyung is the nicest guy you’ve met in a really long time. If you gave him the opportunity months ago, you’re sure you’d be dating right now - and the idea isn’t even unpleasant. He’s hot and smart and funny and sweet. It’s even hard to believe that someone like him is interested in you.

But…

No. Don’t think about him.

You want to punch yourself and scream and eat tons of ice cream and cry - all at once. You’re the queen of taking bad decisions. You’re the heart crusher and friendship destroyer-

There’s someone knocking on the front door.

You sit up in a jump and frown. Is it Seulgi? Did she forget her keys?

You walk slowly around the living room, defeated as if you’ve just came home from war, your hair a mess and shoulders shrinking. You turn the doorknob and open it-

And gasp.

Because standing at your front door is the person you least expected to see.

Jungkook is casually leaning on the door frame as if his presence didn’t make you burst a lung. He looks down, eyes avoiding yours; although the hallway is considerably dark, you can see his expression well. You know him too well. You see sadness and guilt and fear in his eyes.

Your heart beats so fast that you’re afraid it’ll stop suddenly. Nervousness crawls over your skin and makes your stomach feel cold.

“J-Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re brave enough to stutter. You completely forgot that Jungkook used to come over so often that you gave him full permission to enter and leave the building whenever he wanted.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he lifts his left hand and shows you what he’s carrying: a plastic bag full with a pack of…

Banana milk.

“I think we really need to talk.” He says quietly, his eyes meeting yours for the first time.

You inhale sharply.

He’s right. You need to talk.

The cold night breeze makes you tighten your coat around your body. Yours and Jungkook’s hairs sway softly with the wind. You can hear the sounds of the city from up here, in the empty terrace - cars, sirens, voices. A glowing map of endless streets and buildings extends itself in front of your eyes.

You’re both leaning on the railing side by side. You’re hyper aware of the distance between you - both physical and… spiritual. You’ve been standing here in silence for quite some time now, quietly drinking the banana milk he brought, and none of you were able to engage a conversation. The tension is heavy. It overwhelms your whole being. Nervousness makes your nerves tense. You can’t even look at him.

Dozens of questions float around your mind; what is he doing here? Why did he decide to come in the first place? What happened to his date? It’s still very early, he could have stayed with her much longer…

You also can’t help but feel helplessly excited that he is here. With you. Not with Joy. He took the initiative to meet you.

You can’t lose this opportunity.

“It’s kinda cold.” Is the first thing you say. It doesn’t even sound like you.

“Yeah.” He agrees, and he also doesn’t sound like him.

The awkwardness is almost solid right now. Things used to be so different… you can’t remember one moment in the past when such an uncomfortable feeling lingered between you.

“Hm…” you cough. “What, hm… what about you and Joy?”

Why the fuck are you asking this?, you yell at yourself.

Jungkook looks down and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about Joy or Taehyung right now, okay?”

You shrug. “I’m just trying to start a conversation.”

“That’s not how you do it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do it anymore.”

Jungkook goes silent with this, the quick aggressiveness disappearing as soon as it came. He gulps and looks down at the banana milk between his fingers again.

More silence.

“Can I… can I ask you something?” Jungkook says after a long while. His voice is quiet, hesitant, almost being carried away with the wind.

“What?” You feel your body heating up in anticipation.

He finally looks up to you, and in the moment your eyes meet, you have this weird feeling that everything except him looks blurred.

“Why did you start dating Mike?” He asks. “I warned you about him. I mean, you used to listen to me in the past.”

Oh.

Certainly not the type of question you were expecting.

What a mood killer, Jungkook.

You avoid his gaze again, trying to hide your disappointment. “Why are you asking me this now?”

“I just really want to know.” He takes one more sip of the banana milk.

A sigh escapes through your lips and you stare at the shiny city ahead. You didn’t think you’d have to bring up memories of Mike. It’s been a long time, but it still hurts to remember him.

“I… I just…” you start, trying to organize your thoughts. “You know that Mike had like a… bad relationship with his parents, right?” Jungkook nods. “Mike opened up about this to me. I saw how much it hurt him. He was lonely, broken. And I…” this is being way harder than you expected. You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t know. I was just being my stupid self. I thought I could… I wanted to fix him. I realized that I have this heroine complex, you know?” You side eye him sheepishly. “But there are a lot of things I can’t fix… I’m better at breaking things, not fixing them.”

“Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people.” The confidence in which Jungkook says this makes, yet again, an odd sensation set in your stomach.

It is probably the first time Jungkook managed to make you blush in your entire life.

A little more silence.

“Did you actually like him?” You can barely hear his voice.

You have no idea why he’s making this questions. Why is he bringing up Mike after so long?

“Well… yes.” You can’t lie right now. “I did.” You make sure to reinforce the did. It’s in the past.

Jungkook nods and says nothing. He takes another banana milk from the plastic bag and opens it.

You inhale, building up your courage to ask something you’ve been wanting to know for a long time. He touched this subject anyway.

“You asked me something, now it’s my turn to ask you something.” Jungkook nods. You have the feeling that he already knows what’s coming. “Why did you break up with Yeri?”

“She broke up with me.”

Oh.

“Why?” You repeat. You can see that Jungkook gets clearly uncomfortable, but you’re not letting him go without an answer - and he already knows how stubborn you can be, too. He shifts, tilts his head, exhales heavily.

“It just didn’t work out.”

“But you liked her. And she liked you, too.” It was pretty obvious to anyone that saw them together.

Jungkook takes a long while to speak again. “I did like her. A lot.” The way his voice sounds fragile surprises you. Seeing him like this is very rare. Jungkook isn’t one to get all emotional too often. It seems that confessing this to you is important to him, somehow.

It also scares you a tiny bit. What if Jungkook still likes her, just like you suspected in the past?

“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.” He continues. His eyes are far away, watching old memories. His shoulders seem tense. He fiddles with the small banana milk bottle between his fingers. “But… some things aren’t meant to be, it doesn’t matter how much you want them to.”

This answer sounds… way too vague. Not what you want to hear. You know there’s more behind their break up, but just by looking at Jungkook you see that he isn’t telling you anything else. Well, this is the most he ever said about his past relationship in almost one year. It’s better than nothing.

And back to silence.

You want to push this awkwardness away. But how? You don’t feel as close to Jungkook as you always were. It’s not as if you could simply say anything in this moment… especially because, somehow, you feel that Jungkook expects you to do something, even though he came all the way to your apartment just to talk.

Say something, goddamnit!

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out.

Jungkook looks at you, but you’re not strong enough to look back at him. You hold the tiny bottle so tightly that it might get smashed at any moment; that’s just how nervous you are.

“Sorry for what?” he asks quietly. You hear the expectation in his voice… almost as if he’s holding his breath.

You can’t help but gulp. I’m not good with this type of thing.

“For everything.” you hate the way your voice sounds so damn fragile. Being sincere like this is somehow… painful. But that’s what Jungkook expects of you: sincerity. So you keep talking, although you don’t know the right words to express yourself. “I… I don’t know why things got like this between us…” you almost gasp. “I mean, I know why. We know why. And I feel very responsible.”

“You have this habit of taking the blame to yourself, isn’t it?” He murmurs. Jungkook shakes his head softly and passes his hand on his hair.

“But I was the one to propose it in the first place.”

“And I agreed.”

“Okay, but…” you have to stop for a moment to recover your breath. “I don’t know, I just feel sorry. I didn’t think of anyone except me all along. I’ve been an awful person to you… and awful friend. Also…” you need to stop again. Why is it so hard to speak? It feels as if there’s something obstructing your throat; the words hardly come out. “What I did that day at Joy’s house… it was wrong. I’m sorry that I made you upset that day.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. You’re still scared to look at him.

“I’m sorry about that day, too. I was rude to you.” Is he apologizing for calling you a slut while you had sex in the bathroom? Well, you definitely didn’t care about that. “I feel sorry too, Y/N. The way we drifted apart from each other…” he gesticulates with his finger between you and him. “The fault is on us both. I already told you, you shouldn’t take all the responsibility to yourself. We were both stupid.”

“Very stupid.” you both chuckle. You feel your heart lightening up for a moment; that strong tension still hovers around you, but now it feels like a different type of tension. Seeing that tiny smile in Jungkook’s lips makes your heart race.

You finally look at each other.

The shadows of the night paint Jungkook’s face. His hair sways with the wind softly. His dark eyes shine as much as diamonds. You never really understood the expression “to get lost in someone’s eyes…”

Well… now you do.

The small moment you two share feels fragile… featherlight. You’re scared that if you say or do something wrong, it’ll break and disappear. You’re scared to break him. To break yourself. This makes you remember that, ever since you were kids, Jungkook has always been the most fragile of you two. He has always been the most sensitive, the one to get hurt easily. Jimin was right all along. How could you do this to him? Why did you let this happen between you two?

“I missed you.” your voice is barely a whisper. Admitting this makes you feel exposed and relieved at the same time. Your throat feels even tighter.

“I missed you, too.” he confesses.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

You smile at each other.

That’s the moment you almost confess something more… your confused feelings for him. You feel the urge to say that you don’t see him as just a friend anymore; that you don’t want to be just a friend anymore.

But something holds you back.

This is maybe the moment when you’re finally being able to reconcile. You don’t know if Jungkook feels the same about you; you don’t want to push him away by throwing your feelings over him. This might destroy you friendship forever.

Then, you decide to keep it all to yourself. At least for now.

“So,” Jungkook says, sighing. “What about that group project?”

You quirk one eyebrow up. “I’m pretty sure you know about the group project.”

Jungkook giggles. “Jimin has been annoying you, too?” you nod. He shakes his head. “He’s a little shit, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He had good intentions, at least.” You shrug.

“He could be a little more subtle, though.” You can’t help but agree. “Congratulations for getting the highest grade.”

“Thank you. Jimin also told me that you’ve been talking to some important people…”

Jungkook smiles beautifully with this. “Yes. It’s a director. He said that he likes my work and that I have talent. I think he’ll invite me to work with him as a trainee for a while.” Your eyes widen in a surprised expression.

“Really?! That’s great, Kook!” It feels so nice to call him Kook again after so long. Slowly, you feel that unbearable tension vanishing and all that’s left is you and him. Two people that know each other better than you know yourselves for most of your lives. In a matter of seconds, the distance that put you apart for months seems to disappear.

Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle start falling over your heads. Jungkook frowns. “I think we should get down there.”

“Yes.” Before you can think better, you blurt out: “You can sleep here if you want.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that, because Jungkook’s frown deepens as he stares at you with suspicion. A shiver of fear runs down your spine. “Hey, that’s not what I mean.” You’re quick to say, waving your hands. “Before this sex thing started there was just us, remember? I… I miss us.”

Jungkook thinks for some moments, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then, a tiny smile makes its way to his lips - and you’re happy to see that the smile reaches his eyes, too. “Okay.”

“Wait- so Irene and Jennie made up?” Jungkook asks from the kitchen, surprised.

“That’s what it looks like. I mean, they did post some photos together on Instagram.” you say while adjusting the pillows and blankets on the mattress you placed in the living room. Yours’ and Seulgi’s friends come to sleep over a lot, so you’re used to do it - you even bought some spare sheets and blankets for this occasion.

“But you can’t be sure that they are together just because of some photos.”

“Yeah, but you know Seulgi. She jumped to conclusions. Being honest, they don’t look like a couple in these photos… but I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will change her mind at this point. I tried everything.”

“I don’t really think that they’ll make up this time.” Jungkook admits. You walk over to the kitchen and lean on the counter, opposite to him.

“I feel bad for her. Seulgi still loves Irene and she can’t get over it. I think it’s the first time she spends the night out in a long while… and it isn’t even to have fun. I’m worried.”

He pouts and shrugs, eyes focused in building up his sandwich. “Maybe we should just let her figure things out by herself.”

“But she’s doing nothing.”

Jungkook stops adding ketchup just to stare at you and quirk his eyebrows. “Y/N. I think I already said that you should stop trying to be a cupid, like… a million times.”

“I didn’t say I’d do something!” You do your best to sound offended.

“I know you, woman. I’ve seen this face many times. You look like an evil gremlin.”

“I don’t!” you cross your arms. You forgot how annoying it is that Jungkook knows you so well, because you did think of doing something to help her. You’re so tired of seeing you friend being sad all the time. All she does these days is watch Netflix and complain. She already started to look like a zombie at this point. No one can blame you for being concerned. “Besides, gremlins are cute.”

“You’re the only person on this planet that thinks this.” He shakes his head slightly, his hair waving in the process.

“Why did you let your hair grow so much?” You ask, resting your chin over your palm.

“Because I look good with long hair.” Jungkook shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.

“You cocky little shit.”

“Am I wrong for telling the truth?” He looks up at you again, playful. You can’t even tell he’s wrong: that long hair really matches his looks and personality.

“Hey, are you still helping Namjoon and Yoongi?” you ask when Jungkook starts to make a fourth sandwich. Yes, you guys do eat a lot.

“Yeah. I haven’t been to the studio in a few days, but they still call me whenever they need me.” Jungkook presses his lips together and shifts a little: nervousness. “I… I kind of helped them write a song.”

“Really? But you said you were just ‘lending’ them your voice to record demos.”

“Yeah, but I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.” He shifts his eyes to you then back to the sandwich very rapidly. “Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.”

“Aw, come on! I’ve been wanting to listen to your songs for so long!” you whine.

“I said maybe. When the right time comes.”

You don’t really get what he means with it.

For a while, you just sit there and watch Jungkook. He looks so carefree and relaxed; he moves around the kitchen as if it’s his own house. He knows where everything is in the cabinets. In a way, this really is his second house considering how often he comes… even when he used to come just to fuck during these past months. It feels so nice to see him not being all tensed up and uncomfortable around you anymore. He even starts to sing quietly, his voice as sweet and smooth as cotton candy filling up the entire house. You’re one of the few people that Jungkook feels confident enough to sing around. It’s almost a privilege.

You have been staring at him unceremoniously for so long that Jungkook frowns and looks back at you, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s just that… Namjoon is right. You could’ve been famous with this voice.” Jungkook smiles shyly. “And this face.” He turns around to open the fridge. “And this ass.”

He frowns. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m being honest. And don’t act like you don’t stare at my ass all the time.”

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head in that way that means I can’t stand you.

“Done.” He claps his hands together. Four giant sandwiches, coke, popcorn and m&ms (let’s say that you and Seulgi don’t have exactly the healthier type of food at home).

“Okay. I’ll take these, get changed first if you want,” you say while taking the plates to the living room. Of course there would be some of his clothes at your place.

When Jungkook sees the clothes you chose, he stares at you with an outraged expression. “My grey hoodie!”

“…yes.”

“You said you didn’t know where it was!”

You stop and click your tongue. “…funny how I found it at the bottom of my drawer tonight, huh?”

He knows you’re lying. But you won’t tell him that slept wearing his hoodie some nights because it smelled like him. He doesn’t need to know this.

“Hoodie thief.” He says and taps your head jokingly, making his way to the bathroom. You’re wearing sleeping clothes as well - and you made sure to choose your ugliest and largest ones. You don’t want Jungkook to think you asked him to sleep here just to end up having sex.

He comes back and throws himself on the mattress by your side. You’re very aware of the immense space between you; another person could fit in here. “What are we going to watch?”

“I think I’ve watched the entire Netflix catalogue at this point because of Seulgi.” you admit, shoving popcorn inside your mouth. Jungkook takes your phone and scrolls down the Netflix page.

“There’s always something more to watch.”

You end up arguing about what movie to watch. Actually, you spend more time arguing and scrolling down through the Netflix endless catalogue than watching something.

You don’t touch each other not even once. The physical distance almost feels like a living being.

You end up giving up on Netflix and watching Avengers Endgame for the hundredth time anyway.

And yes - Jungkook cries at the ending of the film.

You wake up with the sunlight touching your face.

It’s awful. You close your eyes tightly and yawn, a little bit confused at first. What am I doing in the living room? You search for your phone to check the hour: it’s seven in the morning. Shit. Whenever you can sleep until late hours, you end up waking up early…

You turn your head to the side and freeze.

It’s Jungkook.

Now you remember everything. The TV is still on, which means both of you fell asleep while watching it. The empty plates and glasses are placed over the coffee table.

You never slept together before.

There was only one time when it happened - the first and only, when you two got wasted and the whole story started. Other than that, you never slept together. First, because you had more interesting things to do other than sleep. Second, because sleeping together feels way too intimate. It didn’t matter how tired you were after fucking, when you finished cleaning up, you’d both put your clothes back on and walk back to your respective homes. You vehemently avoided doing anything that might feel too intimate - kissing, sleeping together… after a while, you even avoided looking at each other right in the eye while having sex.

You’re not touching; there is still a great space between your bodies. Yet… just the thought that you slept with Jungkook makes your heart race.

You don’t move a single centimeter. You just lay there and… look at him.

His long hair is a mess. His face is adorably puffy, lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful. The way his chest moves up and down as he breathes is hypnotizing.

He’s seriously so beautiful.

But now, you don’t think of it in a sexual way. Back then, you’d always admire how hot Jungkook is, his godlike physique, how lucky you were to be having sex with a guy like him… not now. You just feel mesmerized by his features. The long eyelashes touching his cheeks. The tiny moles on his face and neck. Some old acne scars.

It’s odd, but right now, you realize just how much you’ve been missing him. It doesn’t make sense - Jungkook is right here, barely an arm apart from you. You made up last night and it seems that everything is back to normal. Still, you desperately miss him.

Your chest fills up with something strange and unknown. It’s sweet and painful. It makes your heart feel tight, your nerves feel like burning and your eyes well up with tears.

This is the face of the person that has been with you during most of your life.

He’s a part of you.

The most important part of you.

In this moment, your feelings for him are so great that it seems that they can’t even fit inside of you anymore.

You watch him sleep for a long time, too scared to move and wake him up. But eventually, he sighs heavily and moves his head, indicating he’s about to wake up.

His eyes finally open and he yawns.

“Good morning.” He says when his eyes focus on you, smiling softly. Jungkook’s voice sounds deep and raspy. He stretches his arms over his head. “I mean… if it’s still morning.”

“It is,” you say softly.

He stares at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes. “I dreamed that babies came from eggs. Like ostrich eggs.” He chuckles. “And women gave birth to the eggs like chickens.”

You don’t say anything and just keep watching him instead.

Jungkook finally turns his head at you and frowns, still smiling softly. “What?”

“Nothing.” You say so quietly that he can barely hear.

He gazes back at you.

Slowly, the smile on his lips disappears.

You feel the tension building up around you - but this time it feels different. It’s not a bad tension like what you experienced last night at the terrace, nor is it dense like when you two were aroused and desperate to find a place and please yourselves. This time, it feels delicate but heavy nevertheless. It makes your blood boil and your heart race.

Jungkook’s eyes are serious, heavy and intense over you. All the playfulness is gone. None of you say a word. You don’t even know if you have the power to move considering how heavy the tension is.

He extends his arm and his fingertips touch your cheek. Your skin feels burning hot. Delicately, he puts a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s strange how he’s doing the exact same thing Taehyung did, but with Jungkook, this simple touch made you feel like exploding right there.

Jungkook is the one to come closer. Closer and closer and closer. Your breathing is heavy. He caresses your cheek his his thumb. Soon, his face is right in front of yours - noses touching, eyes locked and burning with something you can’t quite name.

You stare at each other like this for a moment until his gaze finally drops to your mouth.

You both lean in for the kiss at the same time.

You have already tasted these lips multiple times before - but now, it’s different. The kiss is slow; you move your lips unhurriedly and sweetly. Yet, this kiss feels much more intense than any other you have shared before. None of those times when you kissed him desperately with luxury being the only thing on your mind comes even close to the intensity of this kiss.

It almost feels that this is the actual first time you kiss Jungkook.

Your breathing gets even heavier as the kiss deepens. His hand rests on your waist, while yours hold his neck. The sloppy sounds of your lips and tongues moving together are the only audible thing in the apartment. Your whole being screams in excitement and anticipation when Jungkook moves his body to hover over yours, not even once breaking the kiss. Your right hand grabs his smooth hair while the other travels up and down his back; your body is getting burning hot. Jungkook moans very softly. You start to feel the familiar wetness on your panties.

Jungkook leans away for a moment; his lips are red and swollen, his hair is even messier now, his dark eyes are clouded with want and something you can’t name - something so strong that he’s able to make you shiver with that look alone. He leans down again and starts to kiss and suck your neck very slowly, making soft moans escape through your lips. His hand sneaks under your baggy shirt and he squeezes your breast. Soon, his lips are on yours again and the kiss becomes much deeper. You can already feel sweat forming on your forehead. Jungkook starts to grind on you; you can clearly feel his clothed erection rub against your own core, what makes more and more strangled moans come from both of you.

This is the hottest make out session of your life. The entire atmosphere is not what you’re used to; it’s not playful, none of you say a word. No teasing, no dirty talk. All you do is try to touch each other the best you can, never once breaking the kiss. It’s as if, with this kiss, you’re having a conversation… you’re telling each other everything you’re not brave enough to say out loud.

Soon, the desperation becomes too big. There’s no time to play, you just want to have him inside of you and feel his warm skin against yours. Unceremoniously, you start to undress yourselves, kissing every spot you can find in the process - neck, chest, stomach. Your clothes are thrown around the living room. You lay on your back again and Jungkook hovers above you once more, your legs entangling around his hips as he positions his hard member on your entrance.

You always avoided this position because it is too intimate; you’re forced to look at each other like this. This time, though, it doesn’t matter. You want to look at him - and the sight of his face contorting in pure pleasure, lips parted and eyes closed tightly as he eases himself inside of you, is almost as good as the feeling of being stretched after a long time.

Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He knows he’ll hurt you if he goes too hard right from the beginning. Instead, he waits until you call his name quietly in a strangled moan - the sign he needs to start thrusting. He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs the pillow under your head tightly as he picks up his pace, slow and steady, soft groans coming from the back of his throat that make you feel goosebumps. You hold his back with both hands. You can’t shut the moans anymore.

Sweat makes your skin slippery as he thrusts faster. Jungkook licks and bites your ear, moaning right into it, and it feels that this alone could make you cum. He then leans away for a moment, creating some space between your bodies to have a better angle to keep smashing himself into you - faster and faster, stronger and stronger. The usual sound of skin hitting skin, heavy breathing and moans is all you can hear.

You said that you didn’t ask him to sleep here just to have sex - and you weren’t lying.

But this doesn’t feel like just sex.

This isn’t fucking.

The pleasure is getting unsustainable and you both feel it. You close your legs around him even tighter and pull his face with both hands, sealing your lips in another intense, desperate kiss. It’s sloppy and unsynchronized. It’s raw and rough and so full of emotions you can’t comprehend that you feel your eyes tearing up again.

What you’re experiencing right now isn’t just two people finding pleasure in each other. It isn’t simply carnal instinct.

It is the deepest and most sincere way to connect with another being - without any words, through touches only.

You never felt anything like this in your life - not with Mike or any of your past boyfriends and hook ups. This is beyond lust. This is beyond sex.

Jungkook breaks the kiss apart for a second to look at you. Your gazes lock. God, he’s beautiful. Not only his appearance, but everything about him is beautiful.

And it is right now - stating deep into his eyes - that you come to a conclusion.

Jungkook has always been a part of you. But, in this exact moment, it feels like more.

It feels that you two became one.

He leans down and kisses you again. Your lips are tightly sealed when you both come at the same time.

Your trembling fingers still hold the strands of his damp hair tightly. You caress his face softly, putting some hair away from his eyes. Jungkook kisses you again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

You’re glad when he rests his head on your shoulder again, because like this, he can’t see the tears trickling down your temples.

It’s still hard to understand what just happened. Honestly, you think you’ll never fully understand.

But one thing you do understand, one thing that became as clear as the morning sky, is that your feelings for Jungkook are deeper and stronger than you ever imagined. He’s so much more than a friend.

Yet, you don’t know if he sees you the same way.

You don’t know if he felt the same things you did or if this was just one more time having sex with you. You don’t know if he still has feelings for Yeri or if he’s developing any for Joy.

You know nothing - and this fact makes your heart hurt as if it is being stabbed…

Because Jungkook, the best and most important part of you, might never be truly yours.

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breanime · 5 years ago

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Congratulations on your 2000 followers IAM SO HAPPY FOR YOU! I'm so happy you're getting more appreciation I hope you get much more than this cause you're so talented ❤❤ This event idea is awesome I was gonna suggest it but I was too shy 😘can I request "next contestant " by nickelback with my new baby Rio ( angst that ends in fluff would be great) pleaase ❤❤❤❤❤

OHHHHHHH this song and Rio?!?! OHHHHHHH HOOOOO HOOOOO.

*gif not mine*

Rio eyed you up and down, a frown on his face. He could usually tell how many heads he’s tearing off of assholes by what you were wearing. You were beautiful, obviously, and Rio could understand the lecherous looks you got—he couldn’t blame them. But the rule was: look, don’t touch.

Once they touched, their ass was his.

He rolled his neck, eyes never leaving your form as you walked around the bar, laughing as you carried a drink tray. He wished you’d take the fucking night off so he wouldn’t have to fight off every asshole in town who wanted a piece of you, but no. Your mother had owned the bar, and when she passed it on to you, you became dedicated to making sure it was as successful as it could be. To be fair, it didn’t really matter what you wore—assholes would hit on you regardless, but it seemed like each night it was getting worse.

Which was why he was there.

He hadn’t told you he was coming, and he didn’t make an entrance when he walked in. His guys had told him that the security at the bar had to kick out seven people in the last three days for trying to touch you or bothering you. You’d told Rio that it wasn’t a big deal, and that you were safe—which you were—but he couldn’t let that shit slide. His eyes narrowed as he watched some frat boy stagger over to the DJ. Rio didn’t have to hear him to know what he was saying. The DJ had clocked Rio as soon as he walked in, and Rio watched her eyes widen as the man spoke to her. She looked across the bar at Rio, confirming his suspicions—this prick was asking her what you would say if he tried coming onto you. The guys were always doing that, trying to worm their way into your pants through music. The DJ was a friend of Rio’s, and he knew she knew what was about to go down.

Rio put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, watching calmly as the frat boy went over to the bar. He pointed towards you as he talked to the bartender, and Rio recognized that move, too. These assholes did that a lot. They thought they’d get inside you with every drink they offered you, and he knew it would never work, but… there was something about this guy that made Rio want to fuck him up. Rio watched the guy walk over to you, and he watched him call out “sup, baby”, and Rio knew why that guy had caught his attention…

He was the next contestant.

You jumped when the man slapped your ass. You turned, ready to punch him straight in the jaw, but stopped—Rio beat you to it.

Rio grabbed the guy by the back of the neck and slammed his head into the nearest table. Glass flew everywhere, and the crowd stepped back, more than happy to let Rio do this thing.

“Is that your hand,” Rio asked, a dark grin on his face, “on my girlfriend? Huh? Is that your hand?”

The man squirmed, one eye closed and the other staring up at Rio, wide and full of fear. “I—I—I—”

“I wish you’d do it again,” Rio said, “Yo, you wanna do it again?” He reached down and grabbed the man’s arm, twisting it behind his back. His grin widened when the guy screamed like a little bitch. “Huh? I can’t hear you.”

“No!” He wailed. “No, no! I don’t want to do it again!”

“You sure?” Rio asked, rubbing the man’s face in the spilled beer on the table. He glanced down and noticed a tint of red in the foam. “Cut yourself, homie?” He asked innocently.

“I’m sorry!” The man cried. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Oh, don’t apologize to me,” Rio yanked him upwards by the back of his neck. The man’s face had been cut by the broken glass, and Rio smirked. “Apologize to her,” he said. “Yo! Cut the music! Let everybody hear this bitch!” Rio commanded.

The DJ stopped the music, and you smiled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Say you’re sorry,” Rio said.

“I’m sorry—”

Rio punched him in the gut, and the man bent over, groaning in pain. He pulled him up by his hair. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” the guy sobbed, lip quivering, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend—”

“Wrong!” Rio said cheerfully, punching him in the face. The man fell into a table, and a few of the onlookers clapped. Rio stood over him, putting his hands back in his pockets. “It doesn’t matter if she has a boyfriend,” he turned his head, speaking louder so everyone could hear, “which she does,” he looked back down at the whimpering man, “You don’t run around grabbing ass just because you feel like it,” he went on, “That’s disrespectful. Women aren’t on this planet for your consumption, man. Ain’t you ever read a bell hooks article?” He leaned down, still smiling. “Now apologize to the lady.”

“I’m sorry,” the man sniffled, “I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do that again—to any woman!”

“Aw,” Rio slapped his cheek playfully, “he’s learning.” He stood up, putting an arm around your waist. “Now here’s what we’re gonna do,” he announced, swirling his finger in the air, signaling the DJ to play the music again. She did, and the crowd dispersed, going back to their drinking. “We can take this outside, and you can explain to me why you thought it was acceptable to put your fucking hands on my girl,” Rio offered, “or you can empty your wallet, tip her with everything you got, and walk outta here.” He chuckled. “I mean, either way, you’re leavin’ here limping, but I think one choice is much more generous of me than the other…”

“Yeah, yeah,” the guy took out his wallet, still on the ground, “of course—I’m happy to tip you—ma’mm,” he added.

Rio laughed, kissing the top of your head as you giggled with him. The guy struggled up, already limping, and handed you a wad of cash.

He looked at Rio. “We… Are we good?”

“Oh, hell nah,” Rio laughed again. He plucked the wallet out of his hand and took out his ID. “See, what you’re gonna do now is go to the nearest ATM and empty your account. Then you’re gonna come back here and give it to her to fix this mess you made…and for emotional damage,” Rio looked down at you, “That sound good to you, ma?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“But—” the guy began.

Rio lifted his shirt, exposing the solid gold pistol in his waistband. “Clock’s tickin’.”

The guy limped out as quick as he could, and Rio nodded to his homie in the back, signaling him to follow the frat boy—just in case.

You reached up and pressed a kiss to Rio’s cheek. “You’re getting soft,” you teased, “a year ago, you would have killed him.”

“Yeah,” Rio grinned, “bein’ in love mellowed me out some.” He leaned down and kissed you. “You’re taking tomorrow off.”

“I love how you don’t ask,” you said, rolling your eyes with a smile.

He slapped your ass, laughing when you yelped. “Please,” he added.

After that night, you joked that Rio wouldn’t need to make any more scenes like that. And for a while, you were right. People remembered the lesson Rio taught that night (the brand new DJ booth he’d bought with the extra money from the frat boy served as a permanent reminder), and the amount of assholes harassing his girls went down significantly. But every once in a while, a new, cocky son of a bitch would swagger in and try to put his hands on you, and Rio would handle it.

He could always see the next contestant coming a mile away.

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! I was gonna do the second verse “I even fear the ladies”, but I feel like Rio would just be hella amused by that, so I stuck with his reaction to males. I hope you liked it! This is the last one for tonight! :)

#rio x reader #rio imagine #rio good girls #good girls rio #breanime's 2000 followers event #manny montana

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howaminotinthestrokesyet · 3 years ago

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Behind The Album: OK Computer

The third studio album from Radiohead was released in May 1997 by Parlophone Records. This would mark the first album that Nigel Godrich worked on as their producer. The band would self produce the entire album themselves, which they have done on every record since. In 1995, Brian Eno asked the band to contribute a song to a charity compilation for War Child entitled Help. They were scheduled to do the recording in only a day, which led to the track, “Lucky.” Godrich would say of the recording. “Those things are the most inspiring, when you do stuff really fast and there's nothing to lose. We left feeling fairly euphoric. So after establishing a bit of a rapport work-wise, I was sort of hoping I would be involved with the next album." This track would form the foundation of what would become OK Computer. In early 1996, the group took a break from touring because they found it a bit too stressful. Thoughts now turned to a new record with the mindset of distancing themselves from anything similar to The Bends. Drummer Phillip Selway would say, “There was an awful lot of soul-searching [on The Bends]. To do that again on another album would be excruciatingly boring.” The label gave the band a rather good sized budget for recording equipment for the new release. A number of producers were considered for the album, but they kept coming back to Godrich as an advisor on equipment. Eventually, the band hired him as the producer. Ed O’Brien said of the album, “Everyone said, 'You'll sell six or seven million if you bring out The Bends Pt 2,' and we're like, 'We'll kick against that and do the opposite'."

In early 1996, Radiohead began proper recording of the LP at Canned Applause Studios in Oxfordshire, England. Issues immediately came up as the band had difficulty staying focused on one song all the way to completion. Selway would talk about this later, “We're jumping from song to song, and when we started to run out of ideas, we'd move on to a new song ... The stupid thing was that we were nearly finished when we'd move on, because so much work had gone into them." Although the members of the group were considered equals, the voice of Thom Yorke always represented the loudest one in terms of musical direction. Godrich would talk about his role within the group in an interview. They “need to have another person outside their unit, especially when they're all playing together, to say when the take goes well ... I take up slack when people aren't taking responsibility—the term producing a record means taking responsibility for the record ... It's my job to ensure that they get the ideas across." His permanent role on each Radiohead album would lead to the producer being called the sixth member of Radiohead. After only recording four songs, the band left the Canned Applause Studio for a variety of reasons Including the fact that the studio had no bathrooms or dining rooms. They decided to take a break from recording in order to support Alanis Morissette on tour, which gave them a chance to try some of their new tracks live. Around the same time, Director Baz Luhrmann asked the band to contribute a song to his film, Romeo and Juliet. “Exit Music for a Film” would be played as the credits rolled during the movie, but they did not give Luhrmann permission to place the track on the movie soundtrack. Yorke would later observe that this song became very important to the album. It “was the first performance we'd ever recorded where every note of it made my head spin—something I was proud of, something I could turn up really, really loud and not wince at any moment."

In September 1996, the band began recording again at a mansion in Bath, England owned by actress Jane Seymour. Jonny Greenwood would say the environment represented a much more pleasant change for the group. It “was less like a laboratory experiment, which is what being in a studio is usually like, and more about a group of people making their first record together." One quality that the band enjoyed during the sessions came in the fact that they took full advantage of the natural environment of the mansion. “Exit Music for a Film” utilized some natural reverb courtesy of a stone stairwell. They recorded Let Down” in an empty ballroom at 3 o’clock in the morning. The group worked at its own pace as Ed O’Brien observed later. “The biggest pressure was actually completing [the recording]. We weren't given any deadlines and we had complete freedom to do what we wanted. We were delaying it because we were a bit frightened of actually finishing stuff." A majority of the album would be recorded live with no overdubs because Yorke hated them. The band completed the rest of the album at the studio in Saint Catherine’s towards the end of 1996. In January 1997, the strings for the album were recorded, then they spent the next two months mastering and mixing the album. Actually, the mixing of the album only took a couple of days. Nigel Godrich would later comment, “I feel like I get too into it. I start fiddling with things and I fuck it up ... I generally take about half a day to do a mix. If it's any longer than that, you lose it. The hardest thing is trying to stay fresh, to stay objective."

Several artists would influence what would become the finished product of OK Computer. First and foremost came the 1970 album Bitches Brew by jazz great, Miles Davis. Thom Yorke would tell Q what he saw in that recording that made up his vision for this album. “It was building something up and watching it fall apart, that's the beauty of it. It was at the core of what we were trying to do with OK Computer." Other artists that helped to inspire the record included Elvis Costello, REM, PJ Harvey, the Beatles, Can, and composer Ennio Morricone. Jonny Greenwood would describe OK Computer as an attempt to recreate the sound on all these great records, but they missed the mark. The band would expand their instrumentation for this album to include electric piano, Mellotron, cello and other strings, glockenspiel and electronic effects. Spin would say this about the release, “A DIY electronica album made with guitars." The lyrics to the album focused on themes much more conceptual when contrasted with The Bends. Yorke would sing about a wide variety of topics including transportation, technology, insanity, death, globalism, capitalism, and more. The singer would say, “On this album, the outside world became all there was ... I'm just taking Polaroids of things around me moving too fast." He also took inspiration for some of the lyrics from a selection of books including Noam Chomsky, Eric Hobsbawm's The Age of Extremes, Will Hutton's The State We're In, Jonathan Coe's What a Carve Up! and Philip K. Dick's VALIS. Despite the abstract nature of the lyrics on the record, many critics have looked upon OK Computer as a concept album. They argue that there exists a singular theme running throughout the record, but the band has consistently denied any attempt at making such a release. Jonny Greenwood commented, “I think one album title and one computer voice do not make a concept album. That's a bit of a red herring." They did pay particularly close attention to the order of the tracklist taking almost two weeks to complete it.

The album opens with “Airbag,” which highlights the drumming of Phillip Selway. The track had been inspired by the work of DJ Shadow. The band would later admit that they represented novices in this attempt to base a song on DJ Shadow due to their lack of time with programming. Yorke had actually read an article in a magazine entitled “An Airbag Saved My Life.” Another book that helped to create the basis for the song lyrics emerged in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Yorke had always been obsessed with the idea that any time you get into a car you could possibly die at any second. The second track “Paranoid Android” stands out as one of the longest tracks in the band's entire catalog. Two songs inspired it from classic rock, “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” by the Beatles and “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. The lyrics are meant to reference the alien from Douglas Adams’s A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Yorke got the idea after watching a woman lose her mind after a drink spilled on her at a bar in Los Angeles. “Subterranean Homesick Alien” referenced “Subterranean Homesick Blues” by Bob Dylan. The lyrics are meant to refer a person who is abducted by aliens, then returns home to realize his life is in no way any different. The beginnings of the theme for this track actually began for the singer in private school when he had an assignment to recreate a British literary movement called Martian poetry. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare inspired the lyrics to “Exit Music for a Film.” This should come as no surprise as the band had specifically created the song for a remake film. Yorke would use it as a chance to simply recap the entire narrative in the song because Zeffirelli’s version of the film greatly affected him at the age of 13. “I cried my eyes out, because I couldn't understand why, the morning after they shagged, they didn't just run away. It's a song for two people who should run away before all the bad stuff starts.” The singer had tried to replicate Johnny Cash’s Live at Folsom Prison as he sang along to his acoustic guitar. “Let Down” represented an attempt by the band to recreate the sound made famous by Phil Spector and his wall of sound. Yorke would later comment that the lyrics are “about that feeling that you get when you're in transit but you're not in control of it—you just go past thousands of places and thousands of people and you're completely removed from it.” The singer would look upon such lyrics as perfect symbolism for Generation X, which had strongly influenced the direction of it. “Karma Police” contains two major sections that alternate between piano and guitar, which originally came from “Sexy Sadie” by the Beatles. The title of the song was an inside joke between the band during the previous tour. If something bad happened to someone, they would say that the karma police were going to get them. The short Interlude “Fitter, Happier” became something that the Radiohead frontman wrote in 10 minutes while on a break. The voice came from the Macintosh Simpletext software application. He would later describe the words as a “checklist for slogans from the 1990s.”

“Electioneering” turned out to be one of the band’s heaviest rock oriented songs probably ever with lyrics that were inspired by the Poll Tax Riots. Another source of inspiration came in the book Manufacturing Consent by Noah Chomsky. “Climbing Up the Walls” has been described by Melody Maker as “monumental chaos.” The track was arranged by Johnny Greenwood for 16 instruments based on composer Krzysztof Penderecki's “Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima.” No Surprises” would be initially inspired by “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by the Beach Boys, but they really wanted to replicate the mood of “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong or the soul music of Marvin Gaye. Yorke would say the song’s narrator is “someone who's trying hard to keep it together but can't.” The track that started it all “Lucky” was actually inspired by the Bosnian War. Yorke wanted to illustrate the actual terror of that conflict on the charity album, Help. Another theme that he drew upon emerged in his own anxiety about transportation. Critics have likened the guitar on the song to 1970’s Pink Floyd. The final track on the album “The Tourist” was specifically arranged by Jonny Greenwood to create a bit of space on the LP. The lyrics originated from Yorke witnessing tourists in France trying to see as many sites as possible. The title of the album came from the 1978 radio series based on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when character Zaphod Beeblebrox says, “Okay, computer, I want full manual control now." They had first heard the line while listening to the series on the bus for their tour in 1996. Yorke would say this about the title later. It “refers to embracing the future, it refers to being terrified of the future, of our future, of everyone else's. It's to do with standing in a room where all these appliances are going off and all these machines and computers and so on ... and the sound it makes." The artwork would be created by both Yorke and Stanley Donwood using a computer. The Radiohead singer would observe this about the art, “It's quite sad, and quite funny as well. All the artwork and so on ... It was all the things that I hadn't said in the songs."

Leading up to the release of the album, the band got very little support from Capitol Records because they did not have too much faith in the commercial potential of it. Much of the pessimism came in the fact that the record did not have any singles to put on the radio. Ed O’Brien would call it the “lack of a Van Halen factor.” The singles that were released from OK Computer included “Paranoid Android,” “Karma Police,” and “Lucky.” All of the singles charted in the top 10 in the UK, while they also did very well making the top 20 on the US charts. Their official website was created in order to promote the record, as well as some non-traditional promotional techniques by the record label. One such idea came in their decision to take out full-page ads in popular British newspapers and magazines with only the lyrics to “Fitter, Happier.” Another promotion sent out floppy disks to people in the press, which included many Radiohead screensavers. Upon its official release, OK Computer would debut at number one on the UK charts, while in the US the record made it to number 21. Please note that this was the highest American debut for the band. By September 2000, the release had sold 4.5 million copies worldwide.

Critics loved the album across the board. Writer Tim Footman would comment, “Not since 1967, with the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, had so many major critics agreed immediately, not only on an album's merits, but on its long-term significance, and its ability to encapsulate a particular point in history." Many critics saw it as a very important album. Mojo wrote in their review, “Others may end up selling more, but in 20 years' time I'm betting OK Computer will be seen as the key record of 1997, the one to take rock forward instead of artfully revamping images and song-structures from an earlier era.” The New Yorker would congratulate the band on taking many more risks artistically then their contemporaries like Oasis. “Throughout the album, contrasts of mood and style are extreme ... This band has pulled off one of the great art-pop balancing acts in the history of rock." Most of the reviews that were slightly mixed seemed to focus on the fact that when compared with The Bends, this record did not contain as many catchy songs. The release would go on to win the Grammy for Best Alternative Album, but did not win Album of the Year. The praise for the album seemed to inundate the band a little too much. Also, Radiohead did not agree with the universal assessment that they had made the greatest progressive or art rock record since Dark Side of the Moon. Thom Yorke would say, “We write pop songs ... there was no intention of it being 'art'. It's a reflection of all the disparate things we were listening to when we recorded it."

The legacy of the album came to be represented in a variety of ways. First, the release of OK Computer coincided with the election of Tony Blair. Some writers have pointed to the pessimism on the record as a sign of things to come. Stephen Hayden would write, “Radiohead appeared to be ahead of the curve, forecasting the paranoia, media-driven insanity, and omnipresent sense of impending doom that's subsequently come to characterise everyday life in the 21st century." Second, the arrival of this album directly coincided with the decline of Britpop. The Oasis album Be Here Now did not attain the commercial or critical success that What’s the Story Morning Glory had received in 1995. Third, OK Computer directly influenced a new generation of artists including bands like Bloc Party and TV on the Radio. The album has landed on many lists over the subsequent years as one of the best releases of the decade and all time. Yet, not all retrospective reviews have been kind to OK Computer as it has also landed on some lists as one of the most overrated records of all time. A New Musical Express column criticized the release as the exact point when Radiohead stopped being good, but instead started to become important.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Steve’s final attack; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so INTENSE CHAPTER HERE. PROBABLY THE DARKEST CHAPTER I’LL EVER WRITE FOR THIS SERIES! GUN VIOLENCE AND SHOOTING IS IN THIS CHAPTER SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Potential death/paralysis, guns shown and spoken of, stalker themes shown (like I said this is a DARK chapter).

Again I’ve got trigger warnings below so if you want to block it out, i’ve got stalker, gun violence and shooting as my #tw:. Now to those who do wish to proceed with reading this chapter, you have been warned and proceed with caution, it’s a LOT to take in and just one more section to go with this chapter then I PROMISE from here on out it’ll be nothing as evil as this chapter. ALSO IMAGE SHOWN IN STORY IS NOT MINE. CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER!!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@simonedk

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@bohemiansweede

@5sos-wdw

@labessieisallama

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

@onebigfangirlworld

___________________________________________________________

*June 7th, 1993. Madison Square Garden, New York*

This was insanity. I should’ve seen the signs earlier, maybe if I hadn’t switched to coming here to Hollywood records maybe none of this would’ve happened. Steve Harrison has gone too far now and now I’m deathly afraid of what he’ll do next.

I had told the cops and the judge myself to expect the next call to be my dead corpse lying in wait with a bloody message saying I TOLD YOU SO. He’s been biding his time but I’m resorted to looking over my shoulder every time I go out in public.

I was in my dressing room trying to calm my nerves down before I had to go up on stage when a knock came at my door. I jolted and asked.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me and Jensen baby.” I sighed with relief.

“Come in.” the door opened and there stood my darling husband and cousin in law. Jensen was all geared up in a security uniform and had his Ruger SR1911 steel gun strapped to his pouch.

“Hey kid, how you doing?” Jensen asked me.

“I’ll be better once the show’s over.”

“Hey, don’t worry. As your new head of security I’ve got every cop in NYC on your side, plus some of my boys who have been firing guns for years. We’re not gonna let that creep anywhere near you again.” he said as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and took his hand.

“Thank you. Are the kids safe?”

“Yeah, Danneel has them in the front row.” He said to me.

“Good.”

“Jensen can you give us a minute alone?” Jack said to him.

“Okay, sure. I’ll get into position and get the boys ready.” Jensen gave me a sideways hug and kiss to the top of my head before leaving my dressing room. Jack came up and sat down in front of me and said.

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this, is there?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Not even if I can convince you that you could just do your show from here. I’m sure the audience would think it would be adorable if you did. Cause I could be close beside you.”

“Jack, we don’t have the tech to make all that happen and you know it.”

“I know I’m sorry. But you can’t blame me for trying right?”

“I suppose not.” I cupped his cheek and he leaned up against my touch. “This is the last show of the tour. I promise once this is all over, we can go back to England and stay there.”

“How about we go to Capri. No better place right? Isolated, peaceful, our island of paradise. And this time we can make new memories with the kids.” I smiled and said.

“That sounds fabulous.”

“All for you my love.” He kissed me softly and that’s when I heard a knock and the voice of one of the volunteers.

“Mrs. Kline. You’re up in 30 seconds.” Jack and I quickly separated and I sighed.

“I’m coming.” Jack and I stared into each other’s eyes before he silently took my hand and we left my dressing room.

I now stood backstage getting myself pumped up and trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety of Steve out of my head.

“I’ll be right here watching you baby. And promise me, if you see anything that makes you the slightest uncomfortable, you get off the stage and come to me.” Jack said as he placed his hands on my upper arms.

“I promise Jack. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He cupped my face and we kissed as the announcer’s voice proclaimed.

“AND NOW DIRECTED FROM LONDON, ENGLAND AND WHO MADE HER MARK HERE. PLEASE GIVE IT UP FOR THE ANGEL OF ROCK! (Y/N) KLINE!!!” the crowd cheered louder and I took that as my cue to race onto the stage and I posed for the crowd.

“HELLO MSG! My home away from home! Are you ready to rock and roll!?” the crowd cheered and I opened up with ‘Who I am’.

*3rd Person POV*

As soon as (Y/n) went onto the stage, Jack stared at his wife with worry but admiration as he muttered.

“So much.” Unclipping a walkie-talkie given to him by Jensen he turned the radio on and said. “Jensen, you copy?”

‘Loud and clear kid. All security is in position.’

“Good. This. Ends. Tonight. I don’t care how long it takes us, Steve is going down tonight. Dead or alive.”

As the concert continued, Jensen who was now walking standing alongside Jack checked in with the rest of the guards.

“Sector one report in.”

‘Copy you Jensen, negative signs of him.’

“Okay Gary, but keep your eye on that door. Don’t you dare take your eyes off of it for a second. Sector 2 how you guys doing?”

‘That’s a negative of him coming in through this way either.’

“He got through the screen room last time Jason, I want two men on that door all night.” Jack said into the walkie-talkie.

“George how you doing?” there was radio silence. “Yo George come in.” Jensen said again. But again there was radio silence. “Damnit George! Answer your radio!”

“Any nearby units we’re not getting a response from sector 3. Go and check on him!” Jack said urgently. Jack and Jensen looked at each other worriedly before a voice said.

‘Officer down! Repeat officer down!!’

“What do you mean he’s down!?” Jensen snapped. At this point Jack was getting real anxious. He turned to his wife who was singing her cover of ‘Somebody to love’ at the piano.

“How the fuck did he get in?!” Jack said as he combed his hand through his hair anxiously.

“All units we have a man down in sector 3. Close all perimeters!” Jensen’s voice said.

‘This is Sam of sector six. I have eyes on him. He’s in uniform!’

“What? He’s in officer uniform!?” Jensen’s voice cried out.

‘Affirmative! SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!’ Jack turned on his radio and said.

“Gordon! I don’t care if you make a scene get my wife off that stage immediately!” Jack snapped. When Jack turned around back towards the stage, he would soon be forever haunted by a scene that would haunt him forever.

Almost as if in slow motion an officer making sure that his face was hidden through the jacket and hat came up onto the stage and walked towards (y/n).

Just as she was holding out the final vibrato note like she did when he proposed to her ten years ago, the officer soon took out a 9mm pistol and fired one shot into her side.

A loud bang echoed through the stadium and as (y/n) dropped from the piano bench, people screamed in a panic.

*My POV*

I felt a sudden rush of pain as I collapsed onto the ground. There was this wetness at my side followed by pain. I could hear people screaming but the only thing I saw were the eyes of Steve Harrison. They were soulless and empty. It was like looking into the eyes of a true monster.

“Should’ve killed me when you had the chance bitch.” He raised the gun and I heard another loud bang before feeling pain in my stomach and then my vision went bright before I closed my eyes.

*3rd Person POV*

After shooting her, Steve looked right at Jack who was just standing there in shock at what had just happened. Steve grinned before leaning down and actually took off (y/n)’s wedding ring before taking off running.

Jack raced over to his wife. As much as he wanted to chase after Steve for shooting the love of his life, his first and main concern was (y/n).

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) baby! Baby please can you hear me?” Jensen came down along with the head of medical who took her pulse.

“I’m barely getting a pulse. Call 911!” Jack knew he couldn’t wait that long.

Going off pure adrenaline and desperate to save his wife, Jack picked up his bleeding wife and raced out of the concert venue.

“Jack where you going!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” As soon as Jack came out of the massive screaming crowd that was still trying to run away from the stadium, he took off down 43rd street as fast as he could.

Having been to New York loads of times with (y/n) it was like he could navigate the city with his eyes closed.

“Move! Move! Move!” he would say to crowd of people who were just going about their normal walks around the city or tourists trying to get pictures. When some of them recognized (Y/n), they tried to ask Jack what was wrong but he told them to fuck off.

Jack raced through traffic and down a steep hill till finally after running the full 20 blocks, he reached the hospital. He quickly raced inside through the doors and screamed out.

“HELP! HELP MY WIFE NEEDS HELP! HELP!” immediately doctors and nurses came in with a gurney and a doctor asked him.

“What happened?”

“She—she was performing on stage. She—her stalker. He shot her.”

“Gunshot wounds to the side and stomach.” A male nurse said as they got her on the bed. The doctor shined a light into her eyes while a female nurse checked her pulse.

“I’m not getting a pulse.”

“Let’s move her!” the doctor said. Soon she was wheeled into the ICU, all of them barking out orders hoping they could save her life. All the while, Jack desperately tried to follow his wife but a receptionist came and stopped him.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) my baby.”

“Sir you need to stay out here. Don’t worry they’re gonna do their best to save her. It’ll be okay.”

Hours ticked by and soon the hospital waiting room was surrounded by the entire Rock Angel team. Jack who was still covered in his wife’s blood stared down at his stained hands trembling. Jensen turned to his little cousin and couldn’t find the words to say. But he reached out and placed a hand to his shoulder in comfort.

Feeling the tears in his eyes, Jack rushed out of the hospital and outside into the cool New York air. Repeatedly he kept hearing the two gunshots in his head, and the evil look on Steve’s face as he just carelessly shot another human being, a woman, his wife without a care in the world.

It was like shooting a game animal to him. Jack collapsed to his knees and wept his heart out.

Back inside, all the news stations were covering the story of the shooting at MSG. At this point Jensen was getting sick and tired of it.

“Hey! Can you turn that crap off!?” he snapped at the receptionist. She looked at him and obeyed his wishes. “And while you’re at it can you go back there and tell them just what the hell is taking them so long!?”

“Sir, the doctors are doing everything they can. They’ll come out when they can stabilize Mrs. Kline.” Jensen growled and nearly punched the wall until one of his old friends Gary stopped him.

“Easy man. Easy. Don’t take it out on her. It’s best they try to see if (y/n) will make it then give us the updates.”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT WORD!” Jensen screamed at him. Jensen then collapsed back into his chair whimpering. “Not if. There can’t be an if.” Jensen clasped his hands together as his leg bounced up and down and he too felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

As morning came across the Big Apple, the news was literally eating the story alive. NYPD was on a statewide manhunt for Steve Harrison, and to make matters worse, the press had found out just which hospital the Rock Angel was at.

They were swarming outside wanting a story from the husband or any of her team members.

With the story of the Rock Angel ‘assassination’ now going worldwide, it wouldn’t be long till the story reached back to England.

It had been over 10 hours since Jack had gotten his wife to the hospital and with the situation of the press being contained outside, Jack who now had the kids with him continued to wait in the waiting room.

Little Kelly who was the most traumatized by the whole thing, clung onto her daddy’s arm and finally spoke for the first time since the incident.

“Is mummy gonna be with uncle Freddie?” Jack looked down at his baby girl. He could see the redness in her eyes from her crying and he said as he held his baby girl closer.

“I don’t know baby girl. I hope not. I mean—as much as I’m sure he’d love to see her, I don’t think he’d want it to happen this quickly.”

“What’s the update with our Rock Angel?” a voice soon spoke up. Jack and Kelly turned around as did some of the team members and they were surprised to see Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Kelly raced up towards them and she hugged her uncle Elton who immediately picked her up and held her.

“Uncle Elton, an evil monster he shot……”

“I know darling, I know. Uncle Bernie and I saw it on the telly.” He said as he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“You guys came all the way from St. Louis just to be here?” asked Jack.

“Darling we came for the whole family. Besides count yourself lucky that it’s me and not the in-laws.”

“Oh God!” Jack began to realize that Brian, Deacy and Roger might’ve heard about this story by now. He lowered his hands in his head. Elton looked down at Jack and said.

“Bernie, why don’t you take the mini-angel and her brothers, and go out and get them some ice cream.”

“But what if mum wakes up?” Elton rubbed her back again and said.

“Then I’ll be sure to call you straight away if any news on your mother comes around. Trust me dear after the night you’ve had, you deserve an ice cream.” Kelly looked down and nodded. “That’s my little bunny.” He kissed her cheek before setting her down, “Off you pop then.” Bernie softly smiled at her and took her hand and Bernie called out to the boys.

“Georgie, Jackson, come on.” The two 3 year old’s got off their chairs and went over to the pair. Jackson took his sister’s hand while Bernie picked up Georgie in his free arm and the four of them left the hospital. Elton then walked up to Jack and said.

“Come with me.” Jack wiped his tearstains and stood up from his chair. Feeling his legs falling asleep already, Elton steadied him and the two of them walked along the hallway till they came to the first boys bathroom they could find.

They entered inside and Elton locked the door giving them some privacy.

“How could I let this happen?” Jack said as he leaned against the sink. “I knew something bad was going to happen, deep down I knew. Why didn’t I try harder to convince her?”

“Because you married the most stubborn woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Her stubbornness rivals that to my dearest friend who was once both of yours. That’s probably why I liked her so much.” Jack shook his head feeling a slight smile come at the corner of his mouth.

“I just—I can’t lose her. What if—”

“Now don’t you go talking like that! The world already lost Freddie Mercury. I’ll be damned if we have to lose the Rock Angel too. She’s a fighter! She always has been. So don’t you dare go talking bollocks on me boy!” Elton snapped. He walked up to Jack and tightly gripped his shoulders encouragingly.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her.” Jack whispered out in a choke.

“You won’t. But you listen and you listen good Jack Kline.” He lifted Jack’s chin up with his index finger. “You’re allowed to cry and weep, that’s not gonna make you weak. But you also need to remember this, you are not the only one affected by this. You have three innocent little eyes that had to see that gruesome sight that no child should ever, ever have to see.”

“Kelly? Jackson and Georgie. Dear god they’re never gonna recover from this.”

“In time they will. But right now they are feeling just as much fear and sadness as you are. Bernie’s buying you some time with a little bribery to make them forget for a moment. But when they get back, I want you to clean yourself up. And be the dad they need right now.” Jack looked up into Elton’s blue eyes that shone with strength.

Jack sniffled and nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good boy. That’s a boy.” Elton said as he gave Jack a comforting pat before bringing him into a tight hug. Jack buried his face into Elton’s suit while Elton rested his head against Jack’s. He gave him a comforting kiss on the top of his head before helping Jack clean up.

After helping him clean up, the two of them left the bathroom and walked back to the waiting room.

Another two hours have passed, making it now 12 hours since the Rock Angel had been admitted into the hospital. Elton and Bernie remained with Jack and the kids until finally the doctor came out.

“Family of (Y/n) Kline?” at that point the entire waiting room stood up. It was then the entire Rock Angel team stood up from the security, to the costumers, and roadies. The doctor was surprised until finally Jack came up and said.

“I’m her husband.”

“Your wife has been given a blood transfusion to replace the amount of blood she lost. She went into shock a few times during the procedure but we managed to keep her stable.”

“Is she—is she awake?” at that point the doctor sighed solemnly.

“Mr. Kline. The second bullet your wife took just barely penetrated some major organs. Any centimeter deeper would’ve killed her. We’ve put her into a coma and—I’m sorry to say that only time will tell if she’ll wake up.” This was something Jack did not want to hear. He was desperate to hear that his wife was gonna be okay and that she was awake and alive.

“Can we at least go see her?” Jensen asked.

“We’re setting her up in a room right now. Give us 10 minutes and you can. But three at a time.” The Doctor advised looking back at everyone.

“Okay, thank you doctor. Thank you.” The doctor nodded and walked away but he stopped and said.

“Mr. Kline.” Jack looked up at him and he continued, “Had you stayed at the stadium and waited for us, there was a great chance of her not being saved. You were really lucky this time.” The doctor then walked away leaving Jack stunned at what he had to learn.

“Who would’ve thought something like this would finally get you running.” Jensen said. Jack glared at his older cousin and he said, “Right wrong time to be bringing up all those races we had as kids.”

After several minutes waiting, a nurse came in and said that Jack and the kids could come and see (y/n) first. She led them to her room on the second floor and when they came to room 211, she opened the door and there she was.

Hooked up to wires, breathing tubes in her nose, and IV’s for fluids and blood transfusion was the Rock Angel, wife and mother.

“Mummy.” Georgie whimpered.

“Mummy owie.” Jackson said.

“Yeah boys she’s—mommy got hurt.” Kelly didn’t speak a word but slowly walked right up to her mom’s bed. This young 7 year old girl was now looking at something that only her mom once experienced before long ago. She stood at her bedside, gripped the sheets as she sniffled and whimpered.

“Mum!” she allowed her upper body to collapse on the bed as she wept into the bedsheets. Before she soon got up onto the bed and cuddled close to her mother’s left side and continued to cry.

Jack was heartbroken at seeing his little girl so upset. He took the boys and placed them up on the bed as well as he came down to his baby girl and rubbed her back, hoping that it would provide her some comfort. Meanwhile the boys cuddled close to their mom and found themselves crying for their mother.

At this point Jack didn’t know just what to do, all three of his kids had to go through something so traumatic and terrifying he was afraid it’d damage them forever.

But all he could do now was be there for them like Elton had told him earlier in the bathroom. With (y/n) in a coma, he was the only parent left to be there for them.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the only parent in their lives.

As each day passed, every member of the Rock Angel team got to have their time with their dearest friend and amazingly kind person to work for. Each member of the team would bring in gifts, balloons, flowers for the room, and give the family their thoughts and prayers.

Even fans themselves were reaching out to the hospital that the Rock Angel was in and sent in letters and gifts to Jack and the family. New York practically had the Rock Angel memorialized as a figure to the city and hoped that she would survive this horrible ordeal.

By the 4th day, with a stern telling from Elton, Jack had arrived back from his hotel showered and cleaned up and had the kids go home with Jensen for a little while to be with their grandparents and away from this whole mess.

He entered his wife’s room to see Elton and Bernie just setting down their gifts. Bernie had bought her favorite bouquet of flowers as well as some more balloons.

While Elton brought in a large painting of a mother lioness and her cubs don’t by a famous French artist that he had called up for a favor he owed the singer.

“There we go, now you look like your handsome self again.” Elton praised.

“It was nice to get a shower in. It’s just that—with this whole thing I—”

“We get it Jack. This…..this is even more crazier than when it happened to Lennon. But this is a wait game, but I’ve got a strong feeling she’ll pull through. She always does.” Bernie said as he clasped Jack shoulder comfortingly.

“Thank you Bernie. Thank you both. I—don’t know what I would do without you both here.” The two older men smiled at him before Jack took his seat right by his wife’s side. The three men sat there in silence as they looked down at the beautiful young woman sleeping before them.

She almost resembled Sleeping beauty or Snow White. The machine beeping off her heartbeat and brain activity which was all normal. She just wasn’t awake.

“Why didn’t you both call us about this!?” a voice suddenly snapped out. Jack froze in both fear and guilt at the voice that had just spoke up. He lowered his head in shame and he shut his eyes.

“Brian, Roger.” Elton greeted them.

“Elton, Bernie.” Brian’s voice greeted.

“Jack Kline you have got some fucking nerve about hiding this from us! We get home and we see you and (y/n). Her face plastered on the front of every fucking magazine! I tried calling her a hundred times throughout these past few months, she never answered. And now I see all of this on the news! The Rock Angel shot at by her former personal assistant!” Roger snapped at him. Each time his voice growing angrier and angrier.

“Roger lay off him. You don’t know just what he’s been through the past few days!” Elton snapped at him.

“Elton with all due respect please stay out of this. This is a family discussion.” Brian said to him sternly.

“Well believe it or not, she’s my family too! Freddie asked me personally to keep an eye on her. So this is just as much of my problem as it is yours.” Elton challenged the curly haired rockstar. Before another retort could be said from either rockstar, Jack choked out.

“You think I didn’t want to reach out?” the two members of Queen turned to Jack. His head still lowered down. Jack let out a sniffle and he said. “But she didn’t want me to. I should never have listened to her. Why didn’t I do more?” he growled at himself. He turned to look up at his father and uncle in laws before choking out. “It was my fault.” Before he wept, but he hardly any tears came out due to his dehydration, but the emotion was all there as he leaned up against his wife’s unconscious body.

The anger and resentment the two Queen members once felt, melted away as they heard the pain in Jack’s voice.

“Jack.” Roger started off softly. Jack gripped his wife’s hand in his as he kissed her temple. Brian and Roger turned to Elton who told them.

“They’re saying there might be a chance she may not wake up. Not only he but the kids saw the bastard shoot her right there on stage performing her favorite song of Freddie’s.” at hearing that, Brian and Roger looked down at Jack in shock. Brian ran his hand through his curls as he exhaled heavily.

“Please……” Jack pleaded in a soft whisper as he turned to look up at them. “Please forgive me. I—I couldn’t protect her.” Brian looked down at Jack with empathy while Roger still looked at him with a harsh glare.

When Jack turned back around to weep into his wife’s shoulder. He didn’t notice Roger walking right up to him. Roger just stood over Jack and he could’ve struck Jack in anger, sorrow whatever was racing through him.

In the end, he just placed his hand on top of Jack’s head and said four words that would resonate within Jack for the rest of his life.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jack turned to look up at him. Behind his circular shades, Roger’s eyes were now showing only sadness. He then immediately embraced Jack and Jack buried his face into Roger’s chest.

Just like he had done with (y/n) many times whenever she cried, Roger cupped the back of his head and allowed Jack to bury his face deeper into his chest if he needed as Jack’s arms wrapped around him and he shook with each sob her let out. The drummer held firm but allowed a few tears to slip down his face.

Soon enough Brian joined in as he embraced Jack from behind. The two of them sandwiching their beloved girl’s husband. Elton and Bernie took this as their cue to leave, so without a word the two of them left the hospital and decided that for now they needed to get back to the real world and let the members of Queen take over in comforting the Kline family through these dark times.

But they both promised they’d call and check up on how their beloved angel was doing.

Three weeks passed and throughout that time Jack had confessed to Brian and Roger everything that had been going on with Steve, the stalking, the threatening letters, everything.

“Where are the kids?” asked Brian.

“Jensen took them the day before you guys came here. They—they needed time away. Mom’s been calling me with updates. All of them having nightmares, especially Kelly.”

“Oh god that poor dear.” Brian exhaled.

“You think you could call and have them come back? Now that we’re here.” Asked Roger.

“I could try. Don’t know if my mom will allow it.”

“I’ll convince her if I have to.” Roger said strongly. Jack nodded.

“I’ll try.” He then stood up and went to find a payphone while Roger went with him leaving Brian alone with (Y/n). Brian took a seat close to her bedside and took her hand in his, his thumb gently stroking over her knuckles.

“You stubborn, stubborn girl.” He scoffed softly. “You could’ve told us. We would’ve understood. Please, please my darling star. Don’t leave us yet. Not so young.” He squeezed her hand tightly between both of his before lifting it up and kissed the back of her hand.

“Good news, she’s gonna bring the kids over.” Roger said as he and Jack returned to the room. “Any sign of her moving at all?” he asked Brian.

“Afraid not.” Roger then took a seat on the other side and stroked his daughter’s cheek.

“Hey lovie. Yeah it’s me. Papa lion’s here. Listen; you gotta come back to us. For the kids, for Jack, your family. We all miss you. I miss you. And…..you can’t be with your real dad. Not yet. Remember our talk on your 21st birthday? Don’t do this to your papa lion. Don’t leave him just yet my lion cub.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He stayed there for as long as he could before finally separating and allowing a couple of tears to fall down onto her cheek.

He wiped them away as he lay his head down close to her, wrapping his arm around her body hoping that his father love would bring her back.

The next day as promised, Jack’s mom came in with the kids. When little Kelly saw her godfather and uncle, she immediately ran up to her godfather and embraced him tightly. He felt the young child softly cry into his shoulder.

“Oh Kelly cub.” Roger cooed as he embraced his goddaughter and rocked her back and forth trying to comfort her.

“Mom, has she—” Jack asked his mom as he held Georgie in his arms while Jackson went over to his uncle Brian.

“She hasn’t spoken a word since she came to live with me and your dad. Just nightmares every night. Not even the therapist we got for her and the boys can get her to say anything.”

“And what of the boys?” asked Brian.

“We talk. It’s not fun though.” Jackson said as he fondled with his uncle’s unbuttoned shirt.

“We don’t like talking about that night every day.” Georgie said as he clung onto his dad.

“I’m sure it doesn’t buddy. Talking about stuff like that never is. Trust me I had to tell it over and over again to some police officers and detectives these past few weeks.”

“Does it hurt to talk about it? Cause I hurt when I talk about it.” Georgie said to his dad. Jack leaned his head against his son’s and said.

“Every time.” As Roger rubbed little Kelly’s back, she then finally whispered so brokenly that it broke Roger’s heart but also surprised him because this was the first thing she had to say in over three weeks.

“She’s gonna die, isn’t she?” Roger looked down at her and tucked away her (h/c), the same color she inherited from her mother.

“Could you give Kelly-cub and I some privacy?” they all nodded and left the room, knowing what Roger had in mind.

Jack however was hesitant to leave. He stood halfway out the door before turning back to his baby girl. He looked to Roger but the drummer just gave him a look that said to him ‘let me handle this.’ While Jack wanted to stay and talk to his daughter, maybe even try to comfort her, another part of him was saying let Roger handle this.

He was always able to comfort his wife whenever she needed it in the past long before he knew her, maybe what his daughter needed was the famed Roger Taylor “comforting charm” just like her mom always got. With that Jack left taking Georgie with him.

Roger removed his shades and hung them over the front of his shirt while he adjusted Kelly in his lap.

“Is that what’s been on your mind lately lion cub?” she gave him a sad nod.

“All I hear is mum still not being awake. And it’s all that’s ever on tv. And now seeing her still the same I—I know I’m gonna lose her. Just like she lost her mum when she was a year older than me. I don’t wanna grow up without her!” Kelly wept.

“Hey, hey, hey Kelly-bear. Kelly lovie. Shhh, shhh. Deep breaths darling.” Roger soothed her as he cupped the side of her face. Kelly look at her godfather and saw the gentle blue eyes staring back at her. Those eyes that always gave her a sense of warmth and comfort when her parents were either too busy or not around.

She did exactly what her god papa told her to do as Roger stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“That’s my little cub.” He praised as he kissed her other cheek. “I know this is a very scary time love, believe me I’m terrified.”

“You are?”

“Yes. We all are.”

“But I thought grownups never got scared.” Kelly said with a tilt of her head.

“Oh trust me love. Grownups get scared a lot. I’ve been there, your uncles have been there, even your mum and dad. Fear is natural to everyone old or young. And something like this—it’s really scary.”

“Will I really grow up without a mum like she did?” hearing that question broke Roger’s heart. He stroked the strands of hair out of her face but before he could say anything a voice spoke up from the door.

“I doubt that Kelly. She has the strength of a lioness, and that’s what you got from her.” The two of them turned towards the door and Kelly gasped out and proclaimed as she ran towards the door.

“Uncle Deacy!” Roger was surprised to see his dear friend again after two years apart. Kelly hugged her uncle and Deacy embraced the young girl back. He rubbed her back comfortingly before kneeling down to her height.

“Your mum’s been through many obstacles and tribulations. This is just another one to the list. She knew what it was like to grow up without a mum, and she’s always told me that she refused to let you kids grow up without one. Especially you poppet.”

“But what if she doesn’t pull through uncle Deacy? Some people are saying mum may never wake up.” Deacy sighed heavily and said.

“For now it’s still too soon to tell. Nothing is written in stone yet.”

“Your uncle Deacy’s right love. As long as these monitors keep beeping, we know that your mum is still alive. She’s just resting and trying to heal herself. And with a mighty lion soul that she has, she’ll need a lot of rest.” Roger said as he stood up and knelt down beside her, kneeling right beside John.

Kelly turned back to her mom and walked over to her. She laid her hand on the small railing and just looked at her mum.

“She looks like Sleeping beauty.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Roger said as both he and Deacy stood up.

“Can—can she hear us?” Kelly asked.

“I’m sure she can. I’ll bet she’d love to hear your voice.” Kelly walked closer towards her mom’s head and she said.

“Mum. It’s me, Kelly. I—I wish you’d wake up. Please, I need to know you’re gonna be okay. Seeing you get hurt like that was really scary, but papa Roger says that it’s okay to be scared. Said that you get scared sometimes too. But he also said that you need to heal your lion soul, so hopefully it’s getting better. But I wish you could wake up because I love you so much and miss you. Same with everyone else.”

The two youngest members of Queen watched with heavy hearts as this young girl was talking to her coma-induced mother. Doing something that only a grown up should do when their parents are elderly, not when the child is still a literal child just barely the age of 10.

“Can I have a moment alone with her?” John whispered to Roger. The drummer looked at the bass player before agreeing to Deacy’s request.

“Kelly love, why don’t we go and find your dad and head on over to the cafeteria? Maybe get a pudding cup.” Kelly looked up at him before turning back to her mum. She kissed her mom’s cheek before racing over to Roger who picked her up in his arms. Roger held her close to him and rubbed her back comfortingly as Deacy did the same before giving her a kiss on the head.

He watched as his friend took his niece away leaving him alone with his sister.

For Deacy this was the third hardest thing he ever had to cope with. First he had to go through the trauma of losing his dad so suddenly, then he lost his best friend Freddie to a terrible disease that literally ate him from the inside out, and now this.

John Deacon had heard about this terrible event through his daughter Laura who came in storming from school with a newspaper on hand. She showed her father the article that had read ROCK ANGEL SHOT AT MSG IN NYC.

Deacy almost lost it at this point. It had almost been 2 years since Freddie’s death and now to hear that his sister had been shot at by some deranged psychopath, it practically destroyed him.

Like with Freddie’s final moments, Deacy almost didn’t even want to go and see his sister in some hospital bed barely clinging to life only to be let down for the third time in his life. He was even thinking that this would be the thing that would finally push him over the edge.

But he was stopped by the love of his wife Veronica who had managed to get through to John. She told him that he had missed his chance with Freddie, and with the love and support he had given (y/n) throughout the 13 years he had known her, he had to go see her. Because if he didn’t and should she be pronounced dead, he was going to regret it for the rest of his life.

So cleaning himself up, John Deacon bought his first class flight to New York City and had arrived just for her.

“Sister dear.” He started off. “I—I don’t know if you can hear me but, I’m here. I read what happened….About the shooting, of course the media loves to exploit some details so I don’t know what exactly is true or not. But…..why you didn’t tell us what was going on? Sister you—you should’ve come to us. We could’ve protected you. I—I could’ve protected you. Please don’t go. Don’t you leave us too. Please come back to us.”

*My POV*

I don’t know where I was. All I saw was nothing but blackness until suddenly a flash of light came at me and I was now in a—jungle? Wait why was everything a bigger? And why do I feel—different? I mean I still feel like me but not, this is confusing. I then see just ahead of my what appeared to be some sort of lake or well I guess watering hole (since this is a jungle I guess I better call it a watering hole).

I walked towards it and stood at the edge of it but when I got up to it, I was—well to put it lightly stunned. No I’m just gonna say I was freaking out. What I saw staring right at me was a lioness. I backed up screaming. Hell you would scream too if a lioness was staring right back at you. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Back it up. I approached the water again and lifted my hand but the lioness raised its paw up.

Oh. My. God. The lioness was—I was the lioness.

“Okay. This is even weirder than when Deacy and I got so drunk in Rio that we both woke up with each other’s clothes on and he had the word ANUS written on his forehead in sharpie while I had a dick drawn on mine.”

Okay so I’m a lioness. I am a freakin lioness. The Queen of the beasts. Why? I mean I know Roger and the band always called me lioness but that’s just figuratively. But now, literally I’m a lioness.

“Maybe if I walk around I might find someone who could explain this crazy shit show.” I then began walking through the wide jungle, but as I walked I kept feeling this brush of pain on both my side and stomach but I didn’t know why. And I know this sounds crazy, but I think something or someone is following me.

Every time I turned around, I would see this brush of a shadow before it disappeared. I was weary and thanks to these lion instincts it made me even more aware that whatever it was, was still following me as I kept walking. Suddenly out of nowhere I felt something land on my head and a flap of wings attacked my face.

I fell to the ground and shook whatever it was off of me before growling at it.

“Show yourself!” I soon heard a laugh and it said.

“Bout time you finally noticed me.” I turned around and there stood a peacock.

“Are—are you the thing that’s been following me?”

“I don’t know. Was I? Or am I?” he spoke in a riddle-like manner as he fanned his tail feathers. I rolled my eyes and said.

“Well this is where you stop. Now go away.”

“Whatever for?”

“Cause you’re annoying me, and I don’t have time for games. I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh really? And just who might that be?” he came up to me and cocked his head in that bird-like manner.

“I—I don’t know. Just someone. Anyone.”

“Well I know where you can find someone.”

“You do?”

“Yes. But shh come here, it’s a secret.” I leaned down towards him and he wrapped his wing around me. But instead of giving me a name he started speaking in bloody tongues, flaunting before prancing about away from me.

“Stop! Stop! Enough! ENOUGH! What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re a peacock. And I’m not.” He then began laughing at his own statement.

“No, you’re as mad as the March Hare.” I muttered angrily as I walked away.

“Wrong!” I had a feathery finger suddenly poke my nose stopping me in my tracks. “I’m not the one whose mad. Cause you don’t even know why you’re here.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me bird! Now stay out of my way before I go full predator on you!” I growled before giving him a warning roar which made him fly back scared.

“Okay! Okay, okay.” I walked past him angrily. “No wonder why you’re a lioness my Rock Angel.” I gasped as I stopped in my tracks. I turned towards him and he only gave a wave before saying, “Bye-bye.” And took off flying, almost turning into a shadow with how quick he suddenly took off.

“Oi wait!” I chased after the peacock. Practically losing sight of it till I saw it now standing on top of a rock. I trotted towards it and I asked him. “Did you just say my Rock Angel?”

“No. I said thy Rock Angel.”

“No you didn’t. I specifically heard you say My. And—” I trailed off before looking downward solemnly. “Only one person ever called me that. But he died. What felt like a long time ago.”

“Nope. Wrong again darling!” he laughed again before flying off the rock and now stood before a small entrance into a thicket-like forest. “You said you wanted someone to talk to, I can show you. But you gotta catch up with me first and I’m fast!” he then disappeared through the hole.

I trotted up to it and looked inside it. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, but—what other option is there? So I entered inside the thicket.

It was definitely a tight squeeze just to even go through it but somehow I managed to get inside. I peeked through some thick brush and there sitting on a perch of a tree was the peacock.

“Don’t dottle dear, hurry up!”

“Hey wait, wait, wait!” he kept soaring and jumping from branch to branch all the while chanting and singing out words that didn’t even sound right.

“C’mon lioness!”

“Would you slow down!?” suddenly I felt myself falling down a hill but I quickly stood back up and continued to push forward.

Getting caught in branches and vines all I kept thinking to myself was follow the peacock’s bizarre singing. Hitting bush after bush I ran faster and faster as the thicket closed closer and closer around me.

“STOP!” the peacock suddenly said as it spread out it’s tail. I skid to a stop and the peacock made it’s cooing sound as it’s tail tucked back in like a fan. He then slowly strutted towards the edge of the thicket and he said. “Come here child.”

I got out of the thicket and we now stood before some kind of creek.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“Look into the water, and you will speak to the one you most long to speak to.” I looked at him, and I was surprised to see that instead of this goofy, child-like attitude he had earlier. He was now more serious and dead-center on me doing this.

I followed his orders and slowly approached the creek. I slowly walked towards it before looking into the water that lay beneath me.

But all I saw was myself. I waited and waited but still nothing happened.

“Nothing’s happening. And just who is it that I’m supposed to see?”

“Shhh! Look harder.” I then saw his feather-finger touch the water and ripples soon started to form. I looked closer into the water and soon an image began to form. Suddenly everything around me grew darker but then something echoed through the air.

“AYE-OH!” my eyes widened and I whispered.

“Freddie?” suddenly there was a bright glow right beside me and then a bright flash.

I felt myself floating now and when I looked down at myself, I saw that I was now human again. There was nothing but darkness before suddenly a giant bright light encompassed the darkness. Instead of alone and frightened, there was—warmth. And love.

The light then began to form a giant silhouette of a man (by giant I mean seriously giant. I was like an ant compared to this shadow).

However this specific silhouette was very familiar to me. It was Freddie, standing in the exact shadow position that he once did for the Bohemian Rhapsody video.

Though I couldn’t physically see his face, it was him.

“(Y/n) dear. Why are you here?” he said to me.

“I—I was…..” it then came back to me. The concert, the pain, the gunshots, Steve. “I was shot. Steve he—killed me. At the concert.”

“Not quite my darling. You’re still clinging onto life. So I’m going to make the decision for you. Go back. Go back to our family. You still have so much more to give to the world. The world may have lost Freddie Fucking Mercury, but do not let them lost the Rock ‘Badass bitch’ Angel.”

“BUT WHY FREDDIE!? Steve he—he’s made my life hell this past year. How can I face him?” Freddie’s spirit shined brighter than the sun and encompassed around me as he said.

“You will do that by reminding him who you are. You are (Y/n) (m/n) Kline. My Rock Angel.” Feeling his light around me, it was like Freddie was actually holding me, embracing me with his confidence and giving me the strength I needed to fight.

I looked up right where his face was at and tears poured down my face as I looked up at him in awe.

“Show him. The lioness you are.” It was then his silhouette began to disappear.

“NO! PLEASE! Don’t leave me again!” I chased after his light that was now getting further and further away from me. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t reach him. “FREDDIE!”

“Show him the lioness you are.”

“Don’t go.” I gave up the run and collapsed to my knees as Fred’s final words to me were.

“The lioness you are.” I collapsed to my knees before feeling this gently wind blow across my face as Freddie’s spirit was now gone and I was once again in nothing but darkness.

Sitting there in silence, I began to realize that I couldn’t stay here. Freddie was right, even though I would have to face Steve again if they caught him and put him on trial. I couldn’t abandon my family. Brian, Deacy, Roger, Elton, David, Jensen, Jared, their wives and children. Mum and dad. Jack, and my kids.

I grew up without a mother, I couldn’t let my own children go through the same thing, especially my baby girl Kelly. Cause she’s almost the exact age I was when I lost my mum, no I refuse to leave my baby motherless! That cycle will not go on!

“I gotta get out of here. But how? How? Come on (y/n) wake up. WAKE UP!!!” I screamed. I kept screaming at myself to wake up, I shook my head rapidly, pinched myself, even slapped my cheeks a few times telling myself to wake up but nothing was working. “No it. It’s can’t end like this. I can’t die. I don’t wanna die. Please. Please wake up. Freddie I—I don’t know what else to do.” There was dead silence. I lowered my head and felt tears come into my eyes. I sniffled before I suddenly heard a voice.

‘Sister dear.’ Deacy? No it—it couldn’t be. ‘I—I don’t know if you can hear me but, I’m here.’ It was him. I knew that distinct accent anywhere. But—why was he here? I hadn’t seen him since the tribute concert two years ago. He never called, or sent a letter, he wanted his space and I obliged by giving it to him. Now he was here.

I soon felt something take my hand, I felt a squeeze before Deacy’s voice spoke again.

‘I read what happened….About the shooting, of course the media loves to exploit some details so I don’t know what exactly is true or not. But…..why you didn’t tell us what was going on? Sister you—you should’ve come to us. We could’ve protected you. I—I could’ve protected you. Please don’t go. Don’t you leave us too. Please come back to us.’ I could hear the tremor in his voice by the end.

“Oh Deacy.” I cooed. “Please, please (y/n) wake up. They still need me. I can’t leave them now. Not like this. Please somebody, anybody, wake me up.”

It was then I felt this warmth inside my chest. It got warmer and warmer until yet another light shined right where I got shot the second time and I was now surrounded by bright light.

*3rd Person POV*

Deacy remained there clutching his sister’s hand tightly, his eyes brimming with tears. Suddenly he felt fingers slightly twitching in his grip. His face quickly changed from sorrow to surprise. Slowly for the first time in 3 weeks, (y/n) Kline was finally opening her eyes.

*My POV*

The first thing I saw was white. White light everywhere. Oh god please tell me I didn’t go to heaven. I wanted to go home. But it wasn’t until my hearing came back and I could hear the sounds of machines beeping and counting off something. I felt a hand grasping mine and when my vision became clear, there sat Deacy.

Boy did he change in the last two years. His hair was now more grey and longer now. It came right just the back of his neck, a few inches from growing past his shoulders. His eyes were red and brimmed as he stared down at my in shock, almost not believing something.

“Did you seriously grow a mullet?” was the first thing I asked him. He smiled and scoffed out as he shook his head.

“At least I still have hair unlike Roger whose slowly losing his. Of all the things to say that’s the first thing that comes out of you?” I playfully looked up at him. He didn’t say another word but his actions spoke louder than what he could ever say.

He leaned down towards me and began kissing all over my face. Cupping my cheeks in his hands as he would press his forehead to mine and poking his sharp nose to mine, drawing in our sibling strength.

“Hey Deacy, Roger said you might want some breakfast since you—” we both looked up at the door and there stood my Jack. Deacy stepped aside from the bed as Jack and I locked eyes with each other. He dropped what looked like a pudding cup and stood there frozen.

“Hey Jack.” I said. Jack didn’t say a word but crossed over to me, his bottom lip trembling as he sat down beside me and cupped my face in his hands, just like Deacy had earlier. A sad smile soon broke out across his face as tears poured down his face and he gently embraced me.

“You came back.” I leaned against his shoulder and inhaled his scent. And yeah even though he smelled like he hadn’t showered in days, I didn’t care at this point. It was Jack. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as hard as I could. We separated from each other and he leaned down and kissed me. The kiss got more and more passionate and I said between our kisses.

“I’m here Jack I’m…..I promised. Till death….”

“Don’t even finish that.” We both chuckled as we now stared at each other.

“The kids! Jack where are my babies? He didn’t……”

“No, no baby. Brian and Roger have them. They’re alright. Well physically they are. They were shaken up the first several days.”

“I’ll go get them.” Deacy offered as he left the room.

“What—what happened Jack?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“All I remember was pain, a loud popping sound and Steve. Other than that nothing.”

“(Y/n). Steve he—he shot you during Somebody to love. He shot you twice in the side and stomach. I ran you all the way to the hospital.”

“You did?” he nodded. “How—how long have I been out?”

“You were in the ICU for over 12 hours before being moved here. But you’ve been in a coma for the past 3 weeks.”

“Three—three weeks?!” I shouted which made me flinch which caused some pain in my side.

“Baby are you alright?!” he asked urgently.

“Just a pain in my side. Must’ve stressed out a stitch or something.”

“I’ll call the doctor and let him know you’re awake.” As he reached over and pressed the call button on the wall, I heard the racing of footsteps coming towards the room. Paranoid I thought it was Steve coming to finish the job, but soon three small voices eased my nerves tremendously.

“Mummy!” soon racing in were Kelly, Georgie and Jackson. All three of my kids raced over and tried to climb up on my bed.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on kids. Easy. Mommy is hurting very badly. Be gentle around her.” Jack warned the kids as my boys got up by my feet while Kelly stood on the other side of me.

“Are you okay mummy?” asked Georgie as he lay on my right side.

“I will be baby.”

“Bad man hurt mummy.” Jackson said.

“Yes he did Jackson. But mummy’s gonna be okay now.”

“Are you sure you’re not gonna die mum?” I looked to my left to see my baby girl’s look of uncertainty. I lifted my hand and wiped away her hidden tear.

“I’m sure baby. A…..very special angel told me I was gonna be okay when I woke up. I promise you, I’m gonna be just fine. A few days of rest and I’ll be right as rain again. Just you wait and see.” I poked her nose which made her smile before she got closer to me and leaned her head against my shoulder. I smiled as I leaned my head against her and kissed the top of her head.

“You damn better well be. Cause hearing about all this on the news is not what I ever want to see from you again.” I looked up at the door and there along with Deacy were Brian and Roger.

Oh fuck.

“Dad, Brian. I—”

“We’ll discuss this later. For now we’ll let you be with your kids and husband.” Brian lectured me, that stern look in his eyes when he meant something.

“I’m afraid that won’t happen till later. I’m gonna have to ask all of you to leave while I check Mrs. Kline’s vitals.” A male doctor around his mid-30’s possibly early 40’s with short brown hair and tan skin said as he came in.

“Why can’t we stay with her?!” Kelly demanded.

“The doctor’s gotta make sure mommy’s okay sweetie. But she needs to be alone so that she can do his tests.” Jack tried to calm her down.

“No I wanna stay with mummy! I want to stay with mummy! I want to stay with mummy!” she began to throw a tantrum.

“Kelly. Kelly. Kelly Michelle Kline!” I spoke her name in a low toned voice. She stopped her fitting and I said as I cupped her chin. “None of that now. You are to do as your father and the doctor tell you.”

“But what if you die?!” she whimpered. Oh my poor baby girl. God if I ever come face to face with Steve again, I’ll be sure to give him hell for traumatizing my little girl like he did.

“Baby these tests aren’t dangerous to me. It’s just to see if I’m gonna be okay to leave. Now I want you to go with your father and stay with him until the doctor gives the all clear to come back in. And no more tantrums, is that understood?”

“Yes mama.” She huffed solemnly.

“Good girl.” As Brian and Deacy each took the boys, Jack took our daughter’s hand and as they passed the door, Roger took her other hand and soon everyone but the doctor was out. “I’m so sorry about that she’s never—”

“No worries Mrs. Kline. I get children who act like that all the time when their parents go into surgery or they need to get a shot. First introductions I’m Dr. Hamilton, I met your husband at the door when he brought you in.”

“Did he seriously run the full 20 blocks to get here?” I asked him.

“Oh yeah. And it was lucky for you he did. I told him based on the amount of blood loss you had, had he waited for an ambulance at the stage, you might’ve been lost to us.” Oh my god. Jack you—you crazy, indescribable man. “Okay now first I want to check your eyes, look right at me.”

I looked at him as he shined a light in my eyes. He held his finger up and told me to follow it. I followed his instructions and he said,

“Okay now straight at me again.” He nodded. “Okay pupils are normal, and your ocular motility is perfect. So there’s no brain damage. Tell me do you have any discomfort? Feeling any pain around the stomach?”

“Just a sharp pain in my side when I moved around after finding out how long I had been in a coma for.”

“Alright let me take a look.” He uncovered me and lifted my shirt up so that he could see just what had been done. My right side and the center of my stomach had been stitched up and was still stained with some dried up blood. “Well good news is there’s no unhooked stitches. We’ll get you some morphine to dull the pain. And then I can prescribe to you the pain killers you’ll need while you recover here.”

“Thank you Dr. Hamilton.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Kline. Are there any other concerns you wish to speak to me about?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact. How long will I need to be here for?”

“Well that depends. Cause here’s what I’d like to show you that we had found out from the first gunshot wound you had gotten.” He turned on a screen light and held up my scans of my skeleton. “When the first bullet entered your side, it actually ended up almost right in the L3 vertebrate.”

“And what is that?”

“It’s the vertebrate that helps with the leg muscles. There—might be a chance you may not be able to walk again.” What? No it—it can’t be. “But it’s not 100%. My best guess is that there’s a 50-50 shot. It didn’t penetrate it enough to cause the L3 to break, but there was some damage to it when the bullet tried to exit out that way through your Lumbar vertebrate. If you can show us you can at least attempt to walk, we can have you transferred to our physical therapy facility in Upstate New York.”

“And if you’re wrong?” he sighed heavily and said.

“Then we can do one of two options. We can operate to try and repair any nerve damage done, but that in itself could have serious risk. Or…..you can tell us to let you go and you’ll never be able to walk again.”

Steve you selfish, cowardice, son of a bitch! You’re ruined me!

“I’m sorry miss. But don’t lose all hope just yet. We’ll give you a week of bedrest and do some minor leg tests to see how you’re doing.”

“Thank you Dr. Hamilton.” He nodded and said he call my family back in before he left my room.

I couldn’t believe this. There is literally a 50% chance that I may never walk again. How the hell was I gonna perform? No one would want to see a wheelchair rockstar. Steve’s basically ruined my life now? How the hell am I ever gonna recover from this.

At that point the kids came back inside with Jack, Brian, Deacy and Roger. The kids all cuddled up to me and we shared a brief moment until a police officer came in.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. I’m Lieutenant Banks NYPD. I wanted to ask if you’d give us a statement in regard to Steve Harrison’s attack on you.”

“She’ll give you her statement when she’s well enough.” Roger snapped out.

“Dad.” I warned him. “I’ll tell you everything.” He took out his notepad and I confessed everything, all while the guys and the kids were there.

“Okay now did anything happen after the shooting?” asked Lt. Banks.

“He uhh….he looked right at me and actually stole her wedding ring right off her finger.” Jack explained.

“He did what!?” I finally looked down at my left ring finger and was horrified to see that my ring was truly gone. “No. That—that son of a……”

“Actually Mrs. Kline. We’ve recovered the ring. In fact, I’ve got it right here.” He soon dug through his pocket and pulled out an evidence bag. He opened it up and soon he pulled out my wedding ring.

“How did you get it back?” asked Brian as Jack took the ring and placed it back on my finger.

“When was the last time any of you checked the news?” the Lt. asked us.

We all stayed silent before he walked up and turned on the TV. A female news anchor sat there at the desk and she said.

“It has been three weeks since the horrific attack at Madison Square Garden. Rockstar sensation (Y/n) Kline aka the Rock Angel was shot in cold blood in the middle of her concert. Her assailant, her former PA Steve Harrison after going on the run. Was finally apprehended. Not by police, but some loyal fans of the rockstar herself. Let’s get in touch with Bobby whose live at the scene where the assault took place. Bobby.”

The screen split to an elderly man and the name Robert “Bobby” Johnson came on the screen.

“Thank you Natalie. It was right here at the corner of 34th and 33rd street when a group of men recognized Steve Harrison from the news. Reports say that the group of 7 boys jumped Steve and proceeded to beat him till almost consciousness. It took about 5 minutes for police to finally arrive. When asked about why these men attacked him, this is what they had to say.”

The screen altered to a young black man with dreads, he had the makings of a beard starting to come around his chin, up to his face. He looked to be about Jack’s age and he spoke in a low tone as his name read William Henderson.

“The Rock Angel is life man. She practically saved me through some tough sh*t in my life. And to hear this coward did what he did, he didn’t deserve to be walking the streets the way he did.” Another boy appeared on screen. This time he was white with blue eyes and blonde hair and the name Harvey Davidson came up on the screen. His accent was a heavy Bronx tonality as he said.

“Even though she’s from England, (Y/n) Kline was born and made here in New York. I remember when I saw her very first concert when she came up with Queen.”

“No a**hole messes with the Rock Angel! You mess with the Angel you mess with New York!” another black boy named Erik Woodson proclaimed.

“You mess with her, you mess with all of us!” Harvey came back on screen.

“Steve Harrison has been taken to a separate hospital from where the Rock Angel is said to recover but will be facing criminal charges. As for the gang that assaulted him, they too were arrested for assault and battery in a public place. But are they guilty? Or are they heroes? More of this to come at News4 tonight at 6pm. Back to you Natalie.”

“Thank you Bobby, coming up next—” at that point Lt. Banks turned the tv off.

“Surprisingly, one of those young gentlemen found it hanging around Steve’s neck. He recognized the ring from her last concert she did in Queens. Told us to make sure she got it back.”

“Seems we know who the real fans are.”

“Roger not now.” Brian scolded softly.

“What’s gonna happen to him now?”

“Well—those boys did a pretty bad number on him. When and if he wakes up, he’ll go to jail and be put on bail. Then of course the trial. We’ll keep in touch with you once all of this goes down.” He handed me his card and bid us a good day. All was quiet once more before Brian looked at me and he softly said my name. I shook my head before suddenly finding myself laughing.

“What is wrong with the world? Why did this have to happen to me? Why me? I told him I told that rich, pompous, arrogant, sexist asshole what Steve was doing but did he listen to me? No! He didn’t! Hollywood records doesn’t give a shit! They never did! They hired a fucking sociopath to be my personal assistant and to make matters worse IT WAS HIS FUCKING NEPHEW!!!!”

Tears of anger pooled in my eyes as I angrily tapped my finger against the railing.

“James did this. He didn’t care. He knew he must’ve known his nephew was like that. Why else would he easily give him the job as my personal assistant. I should never have signed up with Hollywood records. I never should’ve left EMI. I should never have come to America. I should never have become the Rock Angel!”

“Don’t say that (y/n).” Jack tried to calm me down.

“No, no, no! NOOO!! Had I never been famous this-this-this-this shhhhh SHIT! Would’ve never happened!” I stammered angrily. He stroked down my arm comfortingly.

“Baby calm down.”

“No you don’t tell me to calm down! I may never walk again Jack! Did you know that?! Yeah Dr. Hamilton said there’s a 50-50 chance of me being paralyzed. Who in the hell would want to see a handicapped Rockstar!? HMM! Tell me that Jack Kline! In fact who would want to be married to a handicapped Rockstar!? You’ll leave me, you’ll all leave me just like everybody else in my FUCKING LIFE!!”

At this point I was going crazy. I may not have known it then, but my kids were starting to get so scared of how I was acting, Deacy had to take my kids out of the room while Brian ran to find a nurse or doctor. Both Jack and Roger tried to calm me down but I was literally going—well exorcism crazy.

It wasn’t until a nurse came in with a needle and poked it into my veins before I suddenly stopped my rage fit and passed out.

*3rd Person POV*

After she collapsed onto her bed, Jack took his wife’s hand and clutched it between both of his.

“The sedative should keep her asleep for the rest of the day.” She said to them as she took the needle out of her arm.

“Thank you.” Brian thanked her. She nodded before leaving the room.

“I’m just thankful the bastard’s finally been caught.” Roger said. “I’ll agree with one of those boys. He did not deserve to walk down the streets of New York after shooting my daughter and wearing her wedding ring around his neck like some prize he won at a fucking carnival!”

“That’s only half of good news to this whole shit show. Already the British media are just as fueled up by this just as they were when Freddie died. The same arsehole who trashed Freddie’s name as well as many others who died of AIDS calling it their form of suicide. He’s called (y/n) out as a woman looking for trouble. Like she asked for this to happen.” Brian snapped.

Jack shook his head angrily as he stared out the window before suddenly trudging out of the room.

“Jack?”

“Jack where are you going? Jack!” Roger called out. But the young man didn’t answer. All that was going through Jack was anger and rage.

Roger and Brian looked at each other confused but they chose to stay with (Y/n) thinking that Jack needed some air, after hearing what the British tabloids were saying about his wife.

*My POV*

I woke up the next day (at least I hoped it was the next day) and saw Roger and Brian sleeping in the hospital chairs. I softly smiled at them and said softly.

“Morning guys.”

“Hey love, you’re awake. You okay now?” Brian asked me as he and Rog both woke up.

“Little funny. Now was I dreaming? Or did that bitch stab me in the fucking arm?” I croaked out. The two of them laughed softly.

“No (y/n). She gave you a sedative. You—went a little bonkers last night.” Brian said as he stroked the side of my cheek. I turned to my dad and said.

“How bad was I?”

“On a scale, I’d say you were all of Motley Crüe mixed in with 20 beers and maybe a little bit of heroine.”

“That bad huh? Were—were the kids…..” they didn’t answer me. Then again they didn’t have to, the sympathetic looks on their faces told me all. “Oh god. I—I’m sorry guys. I—I need my babies here, I need to apologize to them on my behavior. I didn’t mean to scare them.”

“We know lovie, we know.” Dad cooed as he brushed his fingers through my hair.

“Where’s Jack?” I asked.

“We don’t know. He just…..walked out and we haven’t heard from him.”

“He’s not at the hotel? With the kids?” I asked frantically.

“Calm down love I’m sure he just—needed to go on a long walk. Think this whole thing through. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Brian soothed me as he rubbed my shoulder.

“Mrs. Kline, we’re here with your breakfast and some medicine. Mr. May, Mr. Taylor I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you both to please leave the room since we had allowed you both to stay overnight.”

“We understand. Thank you for letting us stay though Nurse Williams. We greatly appreciate it.” Brian said. She smiled and nodded. Brian looked down at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “He’ll come back love, just give him some time.” After he left, dad came up and cupped the side of my face.

“I’ll be back tonight to check in on you.” I thanked him and he kissed my forehead before giving me an Eskimo kiss before he followed behind Brian.

The entire day went by and the weather soon changed from cloudy to pouring down rain. It was around 7pm and Nurse Williams had just brought in my dinner for the night and there was still no word from Jack. I was starting to get frantic with worry, that was until the door opened and coming in dripping wet was Jack.

His face completely soulless and hard as he stood there dripping wet from his head to his soaked shoes.

“Jack? What the f—where the hell have you been?!” he looked up at me. His trance-like state broken as he said.

“I—went for a walk. A long, long, long walk.”

“And what you just stayed out in the rain for the past seven hours?! You could get sick!”

“I’ll change and take a warm shower when I get back to the hotel. This whole thing it’s just been……” he sighed heavily as he lowered his head. My anger at him soon faded away as I relaxed and let out a soft sigh.

“Come here my love.” He looked up at me, his broken eyes staring right into mine as I reached out to him. He walked up to me and took my hand. I clenched his and brought it close to my face and kissed the back of his hand, as well as his knuckles.

I then looked up at him and he slowly leaned down and captured my lips with a kiss. The kiss slowly got deeper and more passionate as Jack cupped both sides of my face. His tongue peeking out and asking for entrance, which I granted to him.

My heart monitor was starting to escalate as I moved my hands down from his neck, down his chest and even lower to his stomach. Once I reached his hips I felt something.

“Jack…..are you—really this turned on now?” I asked between our kisses. It was at that moment he stopped and turned his head away from me. His face back to being grim and his eyes cold and harsh.

“No. That’s not it.” His voice was low, almost threatening. At this point, I was getting nervous.

“Then what is that?” I asked him. He moved his shirt aside and I saw the familiar lining of a curved, steel handle.

“It’s a gun.”

What? He got a gun? And he brought it in here?!

“Jack are you out of your fucking mind? What are you doing bringing something like that in here!?” I snapped at him. He separated from me and his only response was.

“For protection.” I lay my head back against the pillow as I rolled my eyes.

“Jack. What do you think it’s gonna be that easy to just go and shoot somebody?!”

“Ask Steve that question.” He told me. He turned and slowly walked away but not before completely punching my dinner tray and knocking the stand down to the floor. The food scattered everywhere, the plates fell and the tray flew across the room as Jack pinched the edge of his nose as he now stood a few feet away from the foot of my bed. I stared blankly at what had just happened.

“You know they only give you 2 course meals here right?”

“God everything is a damn joke to you isn’t it!?” Jack snapped at me as he breathed heavily. “Steve almost killed you! He makes you flip out and then the next minute you’re treating it like a fucking joke!?!?” he roared at me. I adjusted myself in the bed and told Jack in a low, firm tone.

“You don’t think I’m pissed Jack, hmm? Having that 50-50 chance that I may become paralyzed. Or having to live with the fact that if you hadn’t thought fast the way you did I would be with Freddie? My parents? Letting our kids grow up with the same trauma I had to go through growing up. You don’t think that I wanna walk out of this bed and get Steve for—”

“WELL HE’S NEVER GONNA TOUCH YOU AGAIN! CAUSE IT WON’T EVER HAPPEN AGAIN! NOT TO MY FAMILY!” Jack yelled.

“Love. My darling I know you’re scared. But these are scary times. The world’s changing and becoming a lot scarier than it was when we were kids. But it’s our job as parents to ensure that our kids don’t follow down that road.”

“Well they already got involved. Steve didn’t even care that our kids were at that concert. And with this, I’m gonna ensure that people like him never go that far again with you.” he said as he showed me the gun again.

“Okay. Then you are no better than Steve or anyone else out there in the world that solves problems with only bullets.” I lectured him. Jack looked away from my gaze, he was silent for a moment before he said.

“Look I didn’t come for a lecture. I came to check on my wife and see how she was doing.” He and I had a stare off before he grumbled. “I’m outta here.”

“Jack.” I called out to him as he stood before the door. He stopped before he could even open it up but his hand was right on the handle. “If you walk out of here with that thing, consider yourself erased from this family. The kids almost lost one parent because of that thing Jack Kline. Our babies almost lost their mother I WON’T LET THEM LOSE THEIR FATHER TOO!!!” I yelled at him.

The room was dead silent between us. Jack slowly turned towards me.

“Now give me the gun Jack.” I said as I extended my hand out. “THEY NEARLY LOST THEIR MOTHER I WON’T LET THEM LOSE THEIR FATHER TOO!!” I repeated back to him. Slowly Jack released his hand from the door and walked up to me silently. He stood there, his eyes harsh and cold but I looked back at him with just as much ferocity.

He lifted his shirt and took out the gun which ended up being a double action revolver. He wordlessly placed the gun in my hand before he looked at me with a look of defeat and walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

As I sat there holding the revolver in my hand I brought it close shaking my head as I opened it up. My heart broke into a million pieces as I turned it over and all six rounds of bullets came falling onto the bedsheet.

I closed it back up and dropped the gun by my side and held my hands to my face as I softly cried.

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shemakesmusic-uk · 4 years ago

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International Women’s Day Special

Getting to Know...

Delilah Bon.

Built on the foundations of no-nonsense real-talk and a message of female empowerment, there is a new Brat-Punk artist pricking up the ears and turning the heads of an army of women and young girls everywhere and her name is Delilah Bon. Her new single stands up for women everywhere, and the accompanying music video has just been unveiled today on International Women’s Day 2021.

A properly gnarly, pedal-to-the-metal single, ‘I Don’t Listen To You’ obliterates genre boundaries, fusing hip-hop, nu-metal, punk and everything in between. Fittingly titled, the outspoken message is everything Delilah represents, and the premise started by rounding up her own troupes. Originally a short video message for her TikTok fans, the video blew up over night with thousands of views and responses. It was this solidarity that inspired Delilah to write and release a full track with an accompanying music video capturing women worldwide that resonated with her message.

Born from a relentless desire to create and express herself, as well as address issues women face in society, Delilah Bon is the alter ego of grunge artist Lauren Tate, the lead singer and guitarist of Hands Off Gretel. Renowned for her gritty lyrics, fuzzy guitars, gruelling bass lines and stadium-sized vocals, this is no exception. Following on from singles ‘Bad Attitude’ ‘School,’ and the call to arms anthem ‘Where My Girls At?,’ Delilah’s already garnered a huge following and has a debut album on the way.

Made by a woman, for women everywhere, Delilah delivers the perfect International Women’s Day anthem and we were lucky enough to chat to the inspirational artist all about the project, 'I Don't Listen to You', her dream all womxn supergroup and what she has planned next. Read the Q&A below.

Hi Lauren! Happy IWD! And also Happy Birthday! For anyone discovering you and/or this project here for the first time, tell us how Delilah Bon came to be.

"Delilah came about completely by accident. I guess I knew deep down I would release the music someday but when I first began writing what I consider to be 'Delilah songs' I didn't intend to put them into the world for a while. I was having a hard time on tour with my band 'Hands Off Gretel' after I'd spoken out about women's safety at shows, basically saying I was sick of being treated with less respect than the guys in the band, constantly having to deal with creepy guys and sexist comments. On one hand I had girls messaging me, sharing their experiences and thanking me for being vocal and on another I had certain guys saying they would no longer support my band because my message made them uncomfortable. There was this really awful vibe on tour where I felt like something was going to kick off at any moment and I just didn't feel in control. It made me realise I couldn't please everyone and still please myself, I knew I had to put myself first. So I went back to what made me happy, writing songs for me. I wrote a handful of empowering rap songs and played them in my earphones whilst on tour to remind myself that I was a boss bitch. I'd never rapped before, I guess I just had a lot to say so it came quite naturally. Delilah saved me in a dark time where I almost forgot what I was doing it all for in the first place."

We love Hands Off Gretel and your solo material too but I feel like Delilah is defnitely you being completely true to yourself. Zero fucks given. Would you agree with that?

"Naturally, I'm ever evolving. I have many dreams, many parts of myself that I worry an entire lifetime won't give me enough time to explore. When I was younger I loved Britney Spears, I loved glitter and dancing, drag queens and dress up. My teenage years were filled with discovering as many angry female singers as I could and wanting to scream like Brody Dalle. I was depressed at school and hated everyone basically. So I ran with that energy and built an entire band around the teenage girl I was and I loved it. 6 years later I'm 24 and back into dress up, I'm listening to Britney, I'm dancing around the garden in my pink tracksuit and I feel like a kid again. There's so much more to me than the teenage girl that started a band all those years ago, I haven't even scratched the surface yet. I want to wake up and write a song, record and produce it myself, plan a video and release it the same month. I need that creative freedom. When people are telling me to do something, it makes me want to rebel and do the opposite."

You have just released the badass music video for your viral TikTok hit 'I Don't Listen To You'. Absolutely perfect for IWD and really empowering. Please tell us how the idea for the visual came about.

"Well I mean, Initially I wasn't going to release that as a full track as the song was only 1 minute long. But BAM, Over night it hit 50K views and over 500 comments, people asking for the full song on Spotify. I was freaking out, refreshing my phone every few minutes to see more and more videos coming from girls around the world using my sound. People were identifying with the lyrics straight away, sharing their stories with each other in the comment sections and thanking me for my message. So 72 hours later I'd written and produced the full song in my studio. It almost killed me, I was so stressed and so worried nobody would actually care once I put the song out but I knew I had to do it. The song wasn't just mine anymore, it felt like ours. I was in the studio straining my eyes, with a numb arse on that computer chair because I wanted to give these women the song that made them feel empowered. I knew I wanted to include all the fans in the video, at first I wasn't even going to be in it at all because I wanted to make room for them. It challenged me as a producer and writer and as soon as I saw all the fan videos come flooding in, I got really emotional. I just sat and cried. It's one of the highlights of my career so far."

Wow, I can imagine! That does sound so incredibly inspiring. Talking of inspiring musicians.. If you could form an all womxn supergroup, which artists would you choose to join you and why?

"Wow my gosh that's a hard one, I love so many women. Ok so Grimes would be the DJ, up on her decks with bouncing pigtails and glow stick bracelets, then Bigklit will be my backup screamer (my hype queen). I want Rico Nasty too, her raspy rapping is my favourite. I just want a load of hype girls on stage, dancing around with words painted on their skin. My list of dream collabs is endless!"

What's next for Delilah Bon? What can you tell us about the forthcoming full length? Do you plan to take Delilah to the stage in the future?

"As I wrote and produced this album I danced around my music room and pretended to be on stage. I could hear the crowd already! I know it's the kind of album that will go down so well live because the energy is so contagious. I have no plans to tour it this year though as I'm busy with my band but I will eventually. The album is 12 tracks long and will be dropping in May. Eeek I'm so excited. Obviously feminism is at it's core and I can't wait to see my dad's face when he hears the lyric about vibrators haha! It's daring and fresh, I think the people that get it will freaking love it and the people that don't like it, don't get it. Whatever the case, I love what I'm doing and have never felt so empowered by my own music before."

We can't wait to hear it!

youtube

#international women's day #iwd #getting to know #lauren tate #delilah bon #i don't listen to you

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gameofdrarry · 4 years ago

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Wizards Hearts Recs: Crack!Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Can't Afford to Fall by p1013 Rated: Explicit Words: 100543 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Auror Harry Potter, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Past Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy & Minerva McGonagall Friendship, Draco Malfoy & Rubeus Hagrid Friendship, Neville Longbottom & Draco Malfoy Friendship, House Elves, Hogwarts Castle, Quidditch, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Boggarts, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Excessive Quidditch, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is Obsessed with Harry Potter, minor vomiting in the final chapter, Frottage, Getting Together, Pining, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Resolved Sexual Tension, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Growth, did I mention slow burn?, POV Draco Malfoy Summary: Looking at Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, curled in on himself on a classroom floor, Draco can't help but think of that scared sixteen-year-old version of himself. All he wanted was for someone to help, to save him from his own choices. And here he is, with Harry Potter pooled before him like blood on tile, needing the same. Draco takes a hesitant step forward. He's on the edge of something, though he doesn't know what it is yet. But there's a choice before him, one he almost doesn't want to make. Draco's been the potions master at Hogwarts for four years. At the beginning of his fifth year, everything looks like it'll be smooth sailing. That is, until the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher arrives and throws all of Draco's well-considered plans out the window. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 to punch & to understand by canonjohnlock Rated: Teen and Up Words: 12393 Tags: AU, text fic, Social Media AU, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Non-magical AU, Alternate Universe - Social Media, Harry and Draco text, Humor, Crack, Sexual Humor Summary: The group chat names are all over the place, Hermione does a keg stand, and Ron passes out at dinner. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Ad Pavonem by Lomonaaeren Rated: Mature Words: 29460 Tags: Aurors, Crack, Jealousy, Mystery, Peacocks, Birds, Master of Death Harry Potter Summary: Draco Malfoy, who had seemed to be staying out of trouble after the war, has been connected to smugglers of Dark artifacts. Harry goes to investigate…and runs afoul of a defensive spell at the Manor that makes it highly improbable he can complete his mission. Much worse, Draco doesn’t even know the defensive spell has been triggered. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Ten Points for Gryffindor by VivacissimoVoce Rated: Mature Words: 31395 Tags: Romance, Humor, Patronus, Christmas, Fluff, Redeemed Draco, Crack, Auror Harry, Transformation, Healers, Post-Hogwarts Summary: It’s Christmas and Harry is growing antlers, but no one knows why. Perhaps Draco Malfoy can apply his expertise as a Healer and figure out how to remove them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 nailed by peachpety Rated: Mature Words: 1788 Tags: Texting, Crack, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious Harry, Cock Soap, Dick Jokes Summary: An innocent search for a birthday gift has Harry in quite a lather. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 It’s a lovely day at Malfoy Manor, and Draco is a horrible goose by toutcequonveut Rated: General Words: 2225 Tags: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Comedy, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Crack-ish, Untitled Goose Game References, Task Lists (Untitled Goose Game), Animagus Draco Malfoy, Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack Treated Seriously, ish, i dunno i can't tell what's crack anymore, Embedded Images, Getting Together, Animagus Summary: What the title says ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Wishes by PalenDrome (nerdherderette) Rated: Explicit Words: 10161 Tags: Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Godparents, Wish Fulfillment, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Butt Plugs, Sex Toys, Implied Switching, Light Angst, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Confessions, Auror Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Be Careful What You Wish For, Thirsty Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: Draco meets his fairy godmother and is granted three wishes. Unfortunately, they all keep coming back to the same thing. [excerpt]: Pop! "Oh, wow," Vince says, and is that sarcasm Draco hears? "I never saw that coming." "What?" Draco opens his eyes. He's prepared for the theatrics of the puffs of smoke—Vince, despite the sudden career change, was never blessed with an overactive imagination—but what he was not prepared for was the sight of Harry Potter, bare-chested and dressed in arseless chaps, his hands bound and mouth wrapped around a ball gag while lying face down on Draco's sofa. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Noble and Most Ancient Kettle of Black by MaesterChill, timothysboxers Rated: Teen and Up Words: 8296 Tags: Established Relationship, Moving In Together, Sentient Objects, Tea, Bickering, more tea, Not all of it good, more bickering, POV Alternating, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Fluff and Humor, Claustrophobia, Panic Attacks Summary: Things get steamy in the newly formed Potter-Malfoy household. Unfortunately it's not in the sexy way you might expect... When a copper kettle and a porcelain teapot stir up tensions to boiling point, who will be the unlikely saviour to calm the troubled waters with a perfect cup of tea? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Secret Diary of Draco Malfoy: Aristocrat, Ne'er do Well, Rampant Homosexual by Alysian_Fields Rated: Mature Words: 73008 Tags: Humor, Crack, Explicit Language, Sexual Content Summary: Draco is the bitchy gay wizard version of Bridget Jones. And he has a huge crush on a certain Boy Wonder... ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Malfoy's Secret by justasnake Rated: Explicit Words: 24059 Tags: Crack, Smut, Alternate Universe - Crack, Gratuitous Smut, Crack Treated Seriously, Shameless Smut, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Doppelcest, Snakes, Time Travel, Shrinking, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Hyperdimensional Bondage, Underwater Blow Jobs, Bodyswap, Coffee Shops, Public Blow Jobs, Eventual Plot Summary: The Malfoy family holds an ancient and terrible secret. Harry finds out what the secret is on page one. 90% Drarry smut/crack, 10% discussion of higher-dimensional physics. COMPLETE! ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 So find your happiness by LakeWitch Rated: Mature Words: 40731 Tags: Mentions Of Infidelity, not drarry though, Swearing, Drinking, Drunkenness, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, POV Draco Malfoy, Computers, YouTube, Ibiza, This was all an excuse to research Ibiza as if I was planning a vacation, Dancing, Clubbing, Sexual Tension, charity work, Beaches, Stargazing, Television Watching, Skinny Dipping, Brief talk about Muggle religion, Confessions, there is some drama, someone cries, custard, Literal Sleeping Together, No Smut, crackish?, Crack Treated Seriously, at least, The crack bits include:, DJ Harry Potter, Draco singing along to Britney Spears, Harry makes YouTube videos of himself dancing in his living room, Harry's ringtone is the intro to Aaliyah's Try Again, Too many late 90s/early 00s RnB and Pop references, yes Harry is a DJ in Ibiza, Draco plays Boyz II Men when he's pining, mentions of clown sex, pandemic brain wrote this, ignore me, Oh and Also, Possessive Behavior, Gaslighting, this is really a mixed bag, but mostly enjoying Ibiza and friendly conversation, And lots of dancing, Draco Malfoy is Obsessed with Harry Potter, Stalking, but with good intentions, Meddling Pansy Parkinson, everything I write is essentially the same story Summary: Thanks to a special interest in Muggle culture, Pansy comes across something rather interesting on the internet: someone who looks very much like Harry Potter is posting videos of himself dancing on YouTube under the name "Evan James". But Harry Potter has been missing and unheard of for years. They say he couldn't take the fame and he'd just up and left the UK behind, with rumour placing him somewhere on the Continent. When Pansy shows Draco one of the videos, something ... well, awakens in him. Something he had very much tried to move on from and forget—that he has loved Harry Potter ever since they were fourteen. Pansy convinces Draco that it's time he travels to Ibiza to find Harry and "shoot his shot", once and for all. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Bitch, I'm Harry Potter by Aylaar Rated: Mature Words: 12068 Tags: Crack, Fluff and Humor, crackfic, This is crack, What the hell did I write this for, Hogwarts Eighth Year, This Is STUPID, Song Lyrics, Parody, Drarry, Love, Flirting, Kissing, boys, Gay, Help, Pansy is a VSCO Girl, Draco is embarrassed, Skateboards, Dyed hair, Harry wears vans, and he sings songs, really awkwardly, i cant believe i wrote this, I'm super weird, I'm Sorry, Famous Harry, Good Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Alternative Energy, Not Epilogue Compliant, Epilogue? what epilogue, Out of Character, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Crack Relationships, Draco is sassy, Why Does Draco Roll His Eyes SO MUCH, Hermione Wants Pansy, Pansy Wants Hermione, it's cute, Pansmione Will Happen, I promise, Blaise Might Want Ginny, Ron Loves Chicken, Song: Toxic (Britney Spears), Song: Sad (XXXTENTACION), Song: Buy U A Drank (T-Pain), References to VSCO Girls, References to Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe, I May Have Made a TikTok Reference, I'm 26 and I act like a 14 Year Old, Cute Boys Singing To Each Other, Happy Ending, Boys' Love, Boys In Love, Marriage Proposal Summary: It's Eighth Year at Hogwarts and Harry Potter rocks up with a skateboard, turquoise hair and is fully prepared to prank, annoy and act completely ridiculous. It could be for the attention of Malfoy, it may not be. Who knows? This is a crack fic, it's not serious what so ever and really just a fic full of ridiculousness. This is for my favourite Mommy Puff Complete ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Surprise us by tomoewantsdolls Rated: General Words: 1036 Tags: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Portkeys, Travel, Crack, Humor, a pissed off portkey official is vengeful, Mythical Beings & Creatures Summary: A pissed off portkey officer sends Harry and Draco to an unknown destination. ❤️ Read on AO3

#crack #crack fic #drarry #drarry recs #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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rpf-bat · 6 years ago

Text

Strike A Violent Pose

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Drama, Romance

Summary: Sequel to Spent My High School Career Spit On And Shoved To Agree (x ). Requested by @robinruns. You’re excited to take Gerard as your date to the school dance. But, as soon as you walk in, the bully who got you suspended wants to pick another fight.

Returning to school had been hard. Everyone had started whispering in the halls when they saw you, talking about what you did to Matt to get put on suspension. The fight had happened in a crowded lunchroom. You were sure half your graduating class had seen it.

But, tonight would be better. You’d donned your nicest dress, and you were standing on your front porch, waiting for Gerard to pick you up and take you to prom.

You smiled when you saw his familiar Subaru XT pull into your driveway. He got out of the car, wearing the cutest black tuxedo (his mom’s) money could buy.

“Gerard, you look so handsome,” you complimented.

“Thank you….Wow, Y/N, that dress looks so beautiful on you,” Gerard gasped. You could see him blushing, visibly reminding himself to look you in the eye, instead of at the dress’ plunging neckline. You didn’t really mind. You’d wanted to be his for such a long time, and you were thrilled that he wanted you back.

“This is for you,” he smiled, pulling a corsage from his pocket, which matched the red rose affixed to his suit jacket.

“The flowers smell really nice!” you grinned, attaching it to your wrist. “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” Gerard nodded, opening the Subaru’s passenger door for you.

You’d ridden in his car dozens of times, on car-pools to school in the morning, and late-night visits to Taco Bell, with Iron Maiden blasting on the radio. But, somehow, now that you were dating, this felt different. You found yourself oddly nervous.

“Hey, Y/N?” Gerard asked as he sat in the drivers’ seat.

“Yeah, Gee?” you blinked.

“Would it be alright, if, uh….during the drive to school….could we uh….?”

“Could we what, Gee?” you giggled. “Spit it out. You’ve never had a problem talking to me before.”

“Could we hold hands?” Gerard blurted.

It was such an innocent request, that you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I mean, I’ll need to keep one hand on the steering wheel, of course,” Gerard rambled, “And if you don’t want to, it’s ok, but…..”

“I want to,” you smiled, and laced his fingers with yours.

He beamed. You couldn’t wait to dance with him tonight.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You entered the school gym together, still hand in hand. A DJ was playing loud dance music, and chaperones stood in the corners, eyeing the dancing couples.

“Want me to get you some punch?” you offered politely.

“Sure,” Gerard nodded. “I think I see Ray, I’m going to go say hi to him.”

“Ok,” you smiled, and walked over to a plastic folding table by the bleachers, where you saw a bunch of Hi-C fruit punch juice boxes stacked together.

“That’s weird,” you mumbled. “Last year, there was just a big punch bowl, and some plastic cups.”

“My fault,” apologized a familiar voice behind you, and you turned and saw your friend, Frank.

“Oh, that’s right,” you chuckled. “I remember last year….you snuck vodka in, and spiked the punch, when nobody was looking.”

“Sure did,” Frank grinned. You noticed that in place of a suit jacket, he was wearing a leather motorcycle jacket with his slacks and tie. Nice.

“I think,” Frank continued, “that the principal told them to have juice boxes instead this year, so that nobody could ‘tamper’ with them.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you joked, sticking out your tongue at your band-class buddy.

“I know, right?” Frank laughed. “I might duck out early, go home and get stoned.”

“Don’t say that where the teachers can hear you,” you chuckled.

“You look like you’re in for a fun night, though,” Frank noted. “I saw that you walked in with Gerard...are you two going out now?”

“Kind of,” you blushed. “I guess you could say this is our first date.”

“Sweet, I’m really happy for you guys,” Frank smiled. “So, are you….”

“Hey!” a loud voice interrupted, and your hands balled into angry fists. It was Matt.

“So, they finally let you back here, after the little stunt you pulled, Y/N?” Matt barked.

“Stunt?” Frank repeated.

“Oh, you hadn’t heard, burnout boy?” Matt sneered. “Your little psycho friend over here, attacked me and my boys, for no reason!”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” you snapped. “You hurt Gerard!”

“They did what?” Frank asked with narrowed eyes.

“He was being a little nancy boy,” Matt scoffed.

“And that gives you the right to kick him?!” you demanded.

“If he acted fucking normal, I wouldn’t give him such a hard time,” Matt shrugged.

“He is normal,” you huffed. “You’re just a bully.”

“Neither one of you is normal,” Matt laughed meanly. “Both of you are fucking freaks. The little soprano lady-boy, and his dyke girlfriend who thinks she can hit like a man.”

“I don’t just think,” you growled, “I know I can kick your ass!”

“Y/N, calm down…” Frank cautioned.

“No, I won’t calm down!” you insisted. “You didn’t get enough at the lunchroom, asshole? You wanna eat another knuckle sandwich? Come at me!”

“You must really like getting suspended,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Three days wasn’t enough to teach you how to calm your tits?”

“Grrr….” You were about to lose it.

Matt turned and started walking away. Goddamnit. You weren’t about to let him have the last word. You grabbed a juice box off the table, and without thinking, threw at the back of his head.

“Ow!” Matt cried, whipping back around to see what had hit him. “What the fuck?!”

He looked at the juice box, which had bounced off his noggin and hit the floor.

“Thanks for the drink, you dumb bitch,” Matt grinned.

“Huh?” you blinked.

He picked the juice box off the floor, punctured the top with the straw, and took a sip, smirking at you smugly.

“Wait….no….”

I was supposed to be getting a drink for Gerard, you remembered suddenly. I got distracted. I let my anger get the best of me.

“Give me that juice back!” you demanded. Gee is going to be wondering why I’m not back yet.

“No, fuck you,” Matt refused. “You threw the drink at me, I’m keeping it.”

“I need to give that drink to my boyfriend,” you argued.

“Get your own juice, loser,” Matt insisted.

“That was my juice,” you grumbled.

“Come get it then,” Matt challenged, dangling the juice above your head. You jumped up to try and reach it.

“Ha, you’re too short,” Matt mocked.

You spotted Coach Rickly in the corner. He must have been roped in to chaperoning the dance.

“Coach!” you called. “Matt took my juice and he won’t give it back!”

The gym teacher walked over to you, eyebrows raised. “Why does Matthew have your juice, Y/N?”

“Uhh….” you hesitated. “Um, because, I, uh, threw it at him, sir.”

“Do you think, that maybe, you shouldn’t have done that?” the coach asked you, arms crossed.

You reddened, embarrassed. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Maybe this will be a lesson to you,” Coach Rickly sighed. “Don’t throw things at people.”

“Because they might keep them,” you nodded.

“Or, because throwing things is not a nice thing to do,” the coach pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, whatever reasoning works for you, Miss Y/N.”

Suddenly, you saw your French teacher (apparently also a chaperone?) stomping over to you.

“Mademoiselle Y/N!” she hissed. “Moinseur Matthew says you attacked him again!”

Shit, you thought. He snitched.

“We will not tolerate such violence at a school event,” the teacher hissed. “I want you and your un de plus to leave the premises immediately.”

“Y/N?” Gerard gasped, walking back over to you when he heard the commotion. “What’s going on?”

“We’re leaving, Gee,” you sighed, feeling embarrassed. “That’s what’s going on.”

“What?” Gerard gaped. “But, we just got here!”

“I know,” you stared at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

We didn’t even get one dance in, you thought, before I had to be an idiot, and lose my cool. Now Gerard is being kicked out, too, just because he’s with me.

“It’s ok,” Gerard mumbled, linking in his arm with yours. “If you wanna go, let’s go.”

He led you out into the parking lot. You felt the cool night air on your face, stirring the hair you’d spent hours straightening. Not that it mattered now.

“Alright, do you want to explain to me what happened back there?” Gerard asked, looking you in the eye.

“I got us kicked out of the dance,” you confessed.

“How?” Gerard asked. He didn’t look angry, just confused.

“It was Matt again,” you explained. “He….he was calling you names.”

“I told you before, he’s not worth it,” Gerard frowned.

“You’re right,” you admitted. “It’s just….it’s not fair, the way he talks about you. You don’t deserve it. You’re such a great guy. And I’m such a violent, impulsive person. I always cause trouble for you.”

“I don’t see you as trouble,” Gerard assured you. “You have a really strong sense of justice….that’s one of the things that I like about you. But, it’s not up to you to play Batman, and avenge all the crimes that our teachers choose to ignore.”

“I’m not Batman,” you scoffed. “I’m just….a crazy girl with anger management issues. I’m so sorry that I ruined your prom night, Gee….why do you even tolerate me?”

“I don’t tolerate you,” Gerard insisted. “I really like you. A lot. I just never thought you would like me, in quite the same way.”

“I like you,” you smiled softly. “I might even love you.”

The two of you stood on the concrete in the darkness for a moment, both red-faced.

“You still want to go back in there, don’t you?” Gerard guessed. “You want to mess Matt up for ruining our date.”

It was like he’d read your mind. Even knowing that there would be consequences, and knowing that Gerard didn’t want you to get revenge for him, you still wanted to punch Matt’s lights out.

“I’m just….so mad!” you cried, frustrated. You probably sounded like a little kid.

“Is there anything you normally do when you’re mad?” Gerard asked. “Something that calms you down, or makes you feel better?”

“Music,” you confessed. Listening to a singer scream in your ears could be so cathartic. “But, I left my Walkman at home. Damnit.”

“I have a couple CDs in my car,” Gerard offered.

He led you back to his Subaru, and pulled a worn copy of Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness from the glovebox as you climbed in. He pulled Disc 2 from the case, and popped it into the CD player, pressing seek/scan until he found track number nine.

“Here,” he said gently, and as he pressed play. Billy Corgan’s shrieking voice filled the vehicle.

She didn't wanna be, she didn't wanna know She couldn't run away cause she was craaaazy She gave it all away, she saw her baby BREAK! And in the air it hung that she was dull razors

And I said, I wanna fill you up

I wanna break you…

You sang along with the words, and screaming them released the emotion that had built up inside you.

KA-BOOM! Rat-tat-tat, and some good ole bliss 'Cause I'm a sister, and I'm a MOTHERFUCK I am made of shamrocks I am made of stern stuff I am NEVER ENOUGH! I am the forgotten child!

Gerard turned the volume up, and his voice mixed with yours, as you listened to him sing along with you, the pair of you banging your heads in perfect synchronicity.

And in the eyes of the jackal, I say KA-BOOM!

Now we begin descent!

To where we've never been There is no going back, this wasn't meant to last This is HELL ON EARTH!

And we are meant to serve And she will never learn

SHE WILL NEVER LEARN!

AAAAH!

You realized you were panting. Your hair had come loose from the fancy pins you’d tried to do it up with. And somehow, you’d lost the urge to go kick Matt’s teeth in.

“Feeling better?” Gerard grinned.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. “Thank you. That was exactly what I needed.”

“Well, then, if you’re feeling up to it,” Gerard smiled, “I believe you still owe me a dance.”

“But, Madame said we’re not allowed back to go back inside,” you protested, still feeling a bit guilty.

“Then, dance with me right here,” Gerard invited.

“In the parking lot?” you laughed.

“Yeah!” Gerard nodded. “Why not? I don’t care about all those people in there. I don’t care about drinking punch. The only thing I wanted to do tonight, was dance with you, Y/N.”

“Alright,” you smiled. “Yes, Gerard, you may have this dance.”

Gerard took Disc 2 out of the CD player, replacing it with Disc 1, and skipping to track two. A gentler melody, with soft violins, began to play from the speakers.

Time, is never time at all.

You can never ever leave

Without leaving a piece of youth...

Gerard climbed out of the car first, and offered you his hand. You took it, and followed him. He put your hand on his shoulder, and his arm around your waist.

It was bizarre, in a way - you were outside in the cold, dancing on the cracked asphalt of your high school parking lot. But as Smashing Pumpkins poured from Gerard’s car stereo, and he twirled you in slow circles, holding you tight, it was somehow indescribably romantic.

We'll make things right We'll feel it all tonight (tonight) We'll find a way to offer up the night tonight The indescribable moments of your life tonight The impossible is possible tonight (tonight) Believe in me as I believe in you Tonight….

Gerard dipped you low as the song crescendoed, like a tango, and you took the opportunity to pull his head towards yours, and kiss him on the mouth. Gently, at first. Hesitant. But, then harder, as your impulsivity once again got the best of you. He didn’t fight it.

You pressed him against the hood of the car, and he let you, accepting kiss after kiss from you.

“Y/N…” he gasped, breathless.

“Do...do I need to slow down?” you blushed. Once again, I’m doing stuff without thinking.

“No,” Gerard looked up at you with eager eyes. “Y/N, I love your passion. You fight like a maniac, and you kiss like maniac, too. Even if they call you crazy….I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #high school au #i actually didn't go to any school dances as a high schooler #but the juice box scene (and the teacher's reaction to it) were 100% based on real events from my sophomore year lol

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goldenhemmings · 6 years ago

Text

Good as Gold | College!Shawn (Part Two)

Part Two to my College/Fratboy Shawn series. I kinda snapped and made this one 3.2k (which I know isn’t long for some of y’all but it’s long for me). Enjoy how quickly I got this bitch up because I have no idea where I’m taking part 3. You can read part one here :-)

The second you got up to your dorm room after a quick stop at the dining hall for a late lunch, you reached for your phone to call your best friend, Harper. You had known Harper since you two ended up sitting next to each other in your freshman year Finance class, and by chance she was already working at Alchemy when you got hired. It was the perfect coincidence that essentially guaranteed that the two of you would be best friends.

“This is Harper, how can I help you?” she queried as she picked up the phone.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s me, Harp.”

“I know,” she giggled from the other line. Classic Harper. “I’m just messin’. What’s up?”

“So it’s a long story, but basically we’re going to a frat party tonight.” At this, Harper burst out laughing. “Harper!” you whined. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not opposed, you know that I will totally go, I’m just confused. I have spent two years trying to get you to go to one single frat party with me and I can literally hear you roll your eyes every time I bring it up. What changed?”

You sighed. “Okay, so I was having a really rough day because I failed my English Lit exam because I didn’t have time to study because my roommate--”

“Y/N,” Harper interjected, and you halted your rambling. “Normal speed, so I can understand.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. Harper was always on your case about your tendency to talk incoherently fast when you were excited or telling a story, but you were glad she kept you in check; no one else ever did. “I’ll shorten it. Basically, for a lot of reasons, today sucked. So, when I was walking out of my last class a little while ago, I got really flustered and frustrated. I was trying to find a kind of secluded place to sit down and compose myself, and I saw this random table behind the health center.”

“O-kay,” Harper said, dragging out the word to show that she followed you thus far.

“So I go over to sit and put my head down, and then this random guy sits across from me, saying I was ‘in his spot.’ Except he was actually just being friendly, and I totally snapped at him, but he was still so nice to me. Basically, we got to talking, and not only is he one of the single most attractive guys I have ever seen, but he’s actually sweet. And smart. And a music major.” Harper hummed in understanding on the other side of the phone; she knew where this was going. “And...he’s in a frat. And he told me I should come to their party tonight. And I said I’d bring friends, which is where you come in.”

“Okay, not only am I wicked happy for you,” Harper began, and you could hear the smile in her voice, “But I cannot wait to actually get you to a frat party!”

You laughed, appreciative as ever of Harper and her ceaseless energy. You glanced at the alarm clock on your desk, reading the glowing red 4:12 p.m. “Come over around seven to help me get ready?”

“Say no more. I’ll be there in t-minus three hours. See ya soon, sugarplum.” You chuckled, and with that hung up the phone and flopped down onto your bed, no longer having to restrain your childish smile.

Always punctual, a fully-ready Harper burst through the door to your dorm room at seven o’clock on the dot. “Where’s the roomie?” she queried as she tightened her thick brunette ponytail, looking around the room and seemingly inspecting whether or not it had changed since she was last there. It hadn’t.

“Her backpack was here when I got back from class, but she wasn’t. Probably just dropped her stuff off and went straight to a friend’s to get ready to go out,” you shrugged. You liked your roommate, you really did, but she was a party animal through and through. You didn’t mind on the weekends; you yourself went out all the time on weekends. But when her coming home trashed on a school night led you to do poorly on an exam...that’s where the problem came in.

“Hm,” Harper assented, flinging a stuffed-to-capacity black and pink tote bag onto your bed. Your eyes widened.

“Geez, Harp, what did you do? Bring half your closet?”

“You asked me to help you get ready!” she cried. “I take that very seriously.”

“I already know what I’m wearing,” you defended.

Harper folded her arms across her chest, jutting her hip out. “Let’s see it.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to your tiny closet, pulling out a black short-sleeved henley bodysuit and black ripped jeans, with a flannel for around your waist. You looked over at Harper, tossing the ensemble onto your bed triumphantly.

“It’s cute, Y/N, but we’re going to a frat party. And, more importantly, you are meeting music boy there.”

“Shawn,” you corrected, and Harper laughed.

“Okay, you are meeting Shawn there, whatever. Which means you’re gonna have to come up with something a little hotter than that.” She gestured to the outfit you had laid out.

“Harper,” you warned, already apprehensive. You dressed well, but showing skin wasn’t necessarily your forte; it just wasn’t your style. But, if anyone was going to force you into something new, it was Harper.

“Relax, Y/N! You’ll thank me later,” she said breezily, walking over to her bag and reaching inside to pull out black denim shorts and an off-shoulder maroon crop top.

“Pick one or the other,” you pleaded with her. “We’ll compromise. I’ll either wear that shirt with my jeans, or my shirt with your shorts.”

Harper pursed her lips, thinking, before tossing the top at you. “Try this one.”

“Thanks, Harp,” you sighed, changing into her maroon top and your black jeans, throwing on a pair of black chunky-heeled booties. Once you were all dressed, you turned to face Harper, and she squealed.

“Look at you!” she exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and scooting you over to stand in front of the full-length mirror over your door. You gave a small smile, glad that Harper had agreed to compromise. Your jeans were high waisted, so it made up a little bit for how cropped the shirt was. You were still showing skin, which satisfied Harper, but you were happy, too. With some earrings, a black choker, and Harper’s magic touch with makeup, you were both ready to go.

After making the fifteen-minute walk to Shawn’s fraternity house, deciding to save a little money by not Ubering, your nerves began to set in. You could hear the party before you could see it, and Harper seemed to sense your hesitancy. “Breathe,” she said to you, offering a reassuring smile. “You look great, and he will like you. If you get overwhelmed, just come get me and I’ll walk outside with you. I’ll stay by where the drinks are so you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Harp,” you said, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze as the two of you approached the house’s entrance. Immediately, the smell of beer was everywhere. This level of the house was quite large, but empty save for a few couches arranged around a coffee table in the middle. There was a small group of guys standing near the door, and one called out that the party was downstairs in the basement, gesturing to a staircase on the far right side of the large room. You smiled and walked up to the guy that had spoken, a tuft of red hair peeking out from underneath his backward baseball cap. You cleared your throat to get his attention. “Um, do you know where I could find Shawn?”

He exchanged a knowing look with the guy next to him, spiking your pulse, before he turned to face you. “Downstairs, should be by the speakers. He’s on aux.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, laughing to yourself. They made the music boy DJ.

You and Harper walked down the wooden stairs into the party, slick with what you assumed was freshly spilled beer. The music, some rap song, was deafening, and people were packed in tightly as they danced with various kinds of drinks in their hands.

“I love Travis Scott!” Harper cried, and you scoffed in bemusement; of course she recognized the song. “Let’s go get a drink!” she yelled into your ear so that you could hear her. She grabbed your hand and pulled you forward as you both began to weave through the mass of people. Your eyes searched for Shawn, but you couldn’t find him through everyone.

Before you knew what was happening, Harper was shoving some fruity can of alcohol at you and telling you to down it, to which you happily obliged. Nothing wrong with a little liquid courage. You handed the empty can back to her and she gave you another drink, which you cracked open and began to slowly sip on.

You grabbed Harper’s wrist with your free hand, leading her towards the source of the music. Once you broke through the crowd, you were met with the sight of Shawn sitting on top of the massive box speaker that his phone was connected to by an aux cord, his inked hand scrolling through Spotify and his other one fisting through his tousled brown curls. His cheeks were flushed with slight intoxication and sheened ever-so-slightly with sweat as his head subtly nodded along to the bass of the song, his lips slightly parted. The same black skinny jeans as before hugged his legs in the most perfect way, and a solid white muscle t-shirt highlighted his biceps and revealed another tattoo on his forearm that you hadn’t noticed before. He looked like a dream.

You were broken from your trance by Harper tugging you back so hard that your still-full drink sloshed out of the can and onto your jeans a little bit, to which she offered you a sheepish smile to apologize before unleashing her trademark Harper energy on you.

“Is that him?” she squealed in excitement, her jaw slack as her eyes took Shawn’s perfect figure in. You nodded and pulled your drink to your lips, unable to hold back your smile. “Holy shit, Y/N, get your ass over there!” And, without warning, she had shoved you in Shawn’s direction and you were stumbling over to him as he looked up and caught your eye, smiling that golden smile of his.

“Y/N! You made it!” he cried, setting his phone down and jumping up to pull you into a bear hug. You cried out in surprise at the forwardness, then breathed a sigh of relief as your hands quickly wrapped around his waist to hug him back before the two of you broke apart.

You placed your hand on his bicep and spoke into his ear so that he could hear you over the music. “I didn’t expect Travis Scott from a guitar-slinging music major,” you teased, eliciting a laugh from Shawn, who in turn placed his hand on your waist and leaned down to your level.

“Gotta give the people what they want,” he replied, his rosy cheeks lifting into a smile, which you returned involuntarily. “I need another drink, come with me?”

“What about the music?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I’ve got a whole playlist queued up,” he brushed off. “It’s set for the rest of the night.”

“Okay then,” you giggled, taking the hand that Shawn had reached out to you so as not to lose him as he pulled you back through the crowd. You could feel your cheeks get hot as he unexpectedly intertwined his long fingers with yours, and you were thankful for the low lighting of the party so that he wouldn’t be able to tell.

Once on the other side of the room, the two of you had reached the “bar,” which was really just a long countertop with two frat guys behind it handing out alcohol left and right. Shawn gently let go of your hand and leaned over the counter, talking to one of the guys as the other fetched him a drink, and you noticed Harper right where she said she’d be, twirling the ends of her ponytail as she was lost in a flirty conversation with a broad-shouldered guy in a baseball jersey.

Shawn turned to you as he took the first sip from his red solo cup, nodding towards the can in your hand. “Are you good on yours?”

You nodded, walking over to the side of the room next to the bar and pressing your back against the wall. “For now.”

“Cool,” Shawn said, stepping towards you and extending his arm to place one hand on the wall next to your head. Even in the darkness of the room, you could see the gleam in his eyes that seemed to be backlit by gold. “You look good, by the way,” he continued, and you felt your heart rate quicken. “Meant to tell you that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you said, blushing, barely loud enough for him to hear as you averted your gaze, taking a swig of your drink. Liquid courage, liquid courage, liquid courage. “So do you.”

He grinned, never once sparing you from the heat of his eyes boring into you. “Do you wanna go to the third floor?” he asked suddenly, his finger absentmindedly tapping against the side of his solo cup. “There will still be people, but it might be a little quieter. There’s a balcony we can go on. Only if you want.”

“Sure,” you smiled, and Shawn turned his back to lead the way up. You immediately downed the rest of your drink the second his back was turned and set the empty can down on the counter where you noticed Shawn had put his still half-full cup. He turned over his shoulder to make sure you were following him, once again reaching his hand out for you to take. This time, it was you that tangled your fingers with his, and you felt him squeeze your hand ever so slightly as you did. The butterflies in your stomach were more like animals in a cage.

You walked up the first flight of stairs back onto the level you entered the house from, careful not to slip on any of the various mystery-liquid puddles covering the wood. The same guys from earlier were still standing by the door, and all started calling out to Shawn when they noticed the two of you heading for the second flight of stairs. Sensing your apprehension, Shawn squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Ignore them,” he said, and you gave a small smile.

He was right that there would still be people on the top floor of the house, but he was also right that it would be infinitely quieter. He pulled you out onto the balcony where there were a few other people, but he led the way to the far left corner of the banister. You leaned over and looked at all the people on the street who were drunkenly making their way from one fraternity party to the next. You felt Shawn lean down next to you, and you both laughed as a drunk girl lost her shoe and fell onto her knees as the rest of her equally as inebriated friends laughed out loud at her mishap.

You turned to face him so that you were both leaning sideways against the balcony railing, and you noticed him distractedly fidgeting with the dark gray pendant around his neck. You stuck a finger out to point at it. “What’s on your necklace?” He looked down to realize that he had been toying with it and then dropped it so it lay flat against his chest.

“It’s a Saint Christopher pendant from my grandma,” he said softly, smiling at what you assumed was a very fond memory. “She said I needed it to protect me because I was traveling so far away for college.”

“Because he’s the patron of travelers,” you finished, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes. He quirked his head at you, silently asking how you knew that off the top of your head. “When I bought my first car,” you explained, “My mom gave me a St. Christopher coin to keep in the glove box. Said it would keep me safe wherever life took me.”

“No way,” Shawn responded, beaming down at you.

“Yes way,” you giggled. “It looks just like the pendant on your necklace.”

Shawn smiled down at you, his soft amber eyes aglow with energy and admiration. “Some coincidence,” he said, barely audible, his voice trailing off at the end. Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching a tentative hand out towards your face and tucking a stray lock of your curled hair behind your ear. You froze and you felt your breath catch in your throat as he gently, ever so slowly trailed his fingertips around the back of your ear and slid them along your jawline, his thumb reaching up to slowly brush the side of your cheek. His eyes, seemingly in slow motion, glanced from your eyes, down to your lips, and back up again. He used his pointer finger and his thumb to delicately lift your chin up towards him and, tantalizingly slowly, he leaned in until his lips were softly pressing against yours. He moved his hands down to place them on either side of your hips, and you felt yourself relax into him. No longer paralyzed with nerves, you reached one hand out to his waist and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, the other hand tangling itself in the hair at the base of his neck, giving a little tug in response to him pulling you closer so that you were flush against his chest. What had started as soft and gentle rapidly evolved into steamy and rushed, and as his tongue met yours your mind was clouded with the cinnamon and whiskey on his breath. After what was probably a long time but felt like seconds, you pulled away and laid your hands on his chest and your forehead against his, your hearts racing as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Should we go back downstairs?” he whispered, your foreheads still pressed together. You could feel his breath on your cheek as his fingertips skimmed up and down your waist.

“Harper’s probably wondering where I am,” you sighed, skin hot and tingly with Shawn’s touch.

“My friends, too,” he replied. He pulled his head back, staring down at you with the most perfect closed-mouth smile, then reached up to cup your face and plant one more chaste kiss to your lips.

He reached out a hand as he had before, beaming down at you with his trademark, made-of-gold grin. “Shall we?”

“Such a gentleman,” you laughed, taking his hand and wrapping your free hand around his arm. “We shall.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fanficition #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes one shots #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes aus #shawn mendes fanfictions #sm #college!shawn #frat!shawn #fratboy!shawn #writing #imagines #mendes army

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sailorjupitersworld · 6 years ago

Text

I’ve Got You

To previous readers of the story who might be coming back to re-read, I did some editing and rewrote a few things. Not much is different, but spelling mistakes have been fixed and grammatically incorrect sentences have been take care of. (I hope I got them all at least.)

Plot/Summary- There’s a string of murders involving young women in San Antonio, Texas. (Y/n) has a connection to the case, but does she realize that in time?

Warnings- Mentions of rape, abuse, abusive ex-boyfriend, swearing, blood.

Pairings- Spencer Reid x Reader

a/n- First time writing first person. I apologize if it’s horrible!

----

“It seems this unsub is going after young women in their mid to late 20′s. Typically women with (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, (s/t) skin and are recently out of a relationship. We think this is a man of in his late 20′s to early 30′s. He seems to be acting out some kind of fantasy,” Hotch started.

“He’s a confident, charming, and kind man. He has the ability to lure his victim’s to a place where there is a lack of people. He knows how to get them alone.” Prentiss followed.

“And he has access to chloroform, to knock his victim out and drag them to where he’s keeping them.” (Y/n) finished.

The group of policemen nodded, dispersing to their set locations.

“Alright guys, we need to find who’s doing this and fast. 7 victims in two weeks. We’ve gotta stop this man before he kills again.” Emily stated, a look of worry etched into her features.

“Prentiss and Morgan, I want you two to head down to the bar the last victim was scene. Ask around and see what you can get. (L/n), Reid and I will head to the crime scene and see if there’s anything that may be different from the last. JJ, I want you to talk to the family, see if there may be anything that connects her with the last few victims.” Hotch ordered.

---(First Person)---

The three of us exited the SUV, gloves already equipped.

Something about this case left a sinking feeling in my stomach. It wasn’t unusual for a case to make me a bit queasy, but I’ve never felt like this before. Something was wrong. I just didn’t know what.

“Hey Hotch, (Y/n), check this out.” Spencer waived you over, a piece of paper in his hands.

“What is it?” Hotch questioned,

I grabbed the paper and began reading aloud.

“Hello there agents. You think you’re close because you have a profile? Because you think you know me? You don’t. Though, maybe one of your team members do. Have fun!

-DJ.”

“Who does he know?” Spencer asked, confused.

My heart dropped, (e/c) eyes widening the size of dinner plates.

“(L/n), what’s wrong?” Hotch questioned.

“I need to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

“(N/n)!” Spencer called after me, but I didn’t stop. There wasn’t any time.

“I said I’ll be right back!” I shouted, causing the police officers on scene to give me a confused look.

I rushed out of the building and turned into the alleyway, quickly dialing the number. “C’mon, pick up!” I muttered.

“Why would I pick up, when I’m right here?” A gravelly voice came from behind me and I felt my heart rate speed up.

“Damian.” I hissed.

The blonde haired man grinned at me, an evil glint in his eyes. “Shut up, bitch.” A fist came towards me, and before I knew it, everything was black.

----

“Officer, have you seen the other agent that came in with us?” Hotch asked hurriedly.

They haven’t seen you in over 20 minutes, and it seemed that nobody else on the scene had either.

The woman nodded and pointed to the ally. “She was just over there. She went down that way.” The ally was dark and dreary.

Spencer and Hotch walked quickly, flashlights in hand.

“There’s nobody here.”

“Hotch, look, her phone.” Spencer said, he could only fear the worst for you. You fit the victimology, he knew you shouldn’t have been working this case. He didn’t say anything and he knew.

“Get it to Garcia, and have her trace the last call. We need to find (Y/n) quickly, before she ends up like the rest.” Hotch felt the same panic and urgency as Spencer. You were like a daughter to him, and he couldn’t lose you.

---

“Son of a bitch.” I rasped. My throat burned and my head pounded.

I tugged at my hands, but I couldn’t move them. Looking up, I realized they were bound to a pipe... No, not a pipe. A pole.

It was damp, dark, and a musty smell filled the air. I must be in a basement.

A large metal clang was heard in the distance. His footsteps could be heard.

“Good, you’re awake.” Damian grinned.

“Let me go.” I croaked.

He crouched in front of me, “Oh honey, after what you did to me, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” Pulling out a knife, he dragged it across my cheek.

“Now it’s time you paid.” He growled. Slicing my shirt down the center, he made several shallow cuts along the skin of my chest and stomach.

I didn’t let out a sound, closing my eyes in pain.

“Aww, not gonna make a sound? Well, maybe this’ll help.” He flipped me and I heard what sounded like a belt buckle.

“No.. No, please don’t” I whimpered, writhing and attempted to free myself from the binds, rubbing my wrists raw in the process.

“Too late!” He clawed at your pants, undoing the buttons.

I knew exactly what was going to happen, and there was no way for me to stop this.

---

“Damian Jackson! He was put away for domestic violence, sexual and physical abuse, and attempted rape. His girlfriend filed 4 years ago. Oh my god...”

“What is it Garcia?”

“H-his ex! (Y/n) (L/n), born (birthday). That’s our (Y/n)!”

Everyone exchanged surprised glances, not once had you mentioned this. Not a word. They had know you for almost three years, and none of your behavior showed signs of past abuse. Spencer wracked his brain. “How could I not know? I should have know!”

Prentiss’ voice interrupted his thoughts, “Garcia, when did Jackson get out of prison?”

“He got out two weeks ago,”

“When the killings started,” Morgan interrupted.

“Where can we find him?” Rossi rushed.

“78451 Swan Drive!”

“Baby, I love you.” Derek said thankfully.

“Whatever you say hot stuff, just bring her back to us.”

Hotch and Reid were already on the move, “All units, head to 78451 Swan Drive. Bring an ambulence!” Hotch shouted.

---

I sobbed quietly, blood gushed from my nose, my chest was covered in red, not a single piece of (s/c) skin in sight. My hips throbbed with bruises and my wrists were bleeding. My pants were in tatters and strewn across the room. The only thing keeping myself not exposed were the black shorts I wore underneath and a bra. “At least he was courteous enough to leave those on.”

“They’re not coming, don’t you get it?” He growled, kicking my side once more.

I groaned in pain, “No, they’re coming. They’re going to arrest you, and put you away for life. Maybe they’ll put you on death row.” I spat.

He grabbed my hair and pulled me up to face him. “You fucking bitch! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” He screamed, spit flying in my face.

A loud crash was heard from upstairs, followed by voices.

“Get up, slut.” He cut the rope from around my wrists and pulled my body up.

My legs were weak, and I couldn’t help but stumble.

“I said GET UP!”

The metal door was opened in seconds and I let out a breath of relief when I saw the people who stood before me. Morgan, Hotch and Reid stood before me. Their guns were raised and they were clad in vests.

“Spencer...” I rasped.

“Shut it!” Damian screamed once more, pressing the cold metal against my neck. “You move and I’ll cut her throat open!”

“Put the knife down Damian.” Aaron growled. His face was etched with anger, but his eyes were full of fear.

“You don’t have to do this Damian, we can get you help.” Spencer attempted to reason.

“I don’t want help,” He began to drag the blade along your neck, “I want this fucking bitch dead!”

I felt a sharp pain in my side and Damian let go. I fell to the ground with a thud and I gasped for air.

“No!” Everyone yelled.

I watched through spotty vision as Damian was tackled to the ground. Hotch and Spencer quickly made their way over. Spencer was quick to pack the wound with the remnants of my shirt.”

“I need a medic! Federal Agent down!” Hotch yelled into his ear piece.

Spencer grabbed your head and looked you in the eyes, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), it’s okay. We got you. You’re going to be just fine.” He assured.

“I’m sorry. I should have said something. I should’ve known it was him. I’m so sorry.” I cried. (h/c) hair stuck to my face, the blood and sweat serving as the adhesive.

“Shush, you’re gonna be okay. Save your strength.” Hotch grasped my hand.

“Gentlemen, I’m going to need you to move.” The EMT said.

They quickly moved you, and soon you were being carried to the ambulance.

“Spencer, I love you. Aaron, thank you for being there for me,” I choked out. “If I don’t make it-”

“No, stop talking like that. You’re going to be just fine.” Spencer whispered shakily, tears streaked down his cheeks.

Black spots began to cloud my eyes, and the voices around me became muffled.

"I love you too.” Was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

------

Everyone sat in the lobby of the hospital, tears filled their eyes. Waiting for news on your condition. Morgan paced, Prentiss bit her nails, JJ munched on cheetos with a solemn look, Rossi twiddled his fingers and Garcia was wiping at the constant flow of tears. Hotch frequently made his way to the front desk, asking for new, yet receiving none. He was almost frantic. He’s lost too many and he couldn’t bear to lose another one. Spencer tapped his foot, trying to keep his breathing under control. The brunette wanted scream. It was agony not knowing. For someone like Spencer, not knowing was rare, and he hated it. The sound of the door opening and closing caused everyone to bolt up from their current positions.

“How is she?” Emily cried.

“Is she alright?” JJ gasped.

The surgeon and his nurse smiled, “It was a tough battle, but luckily the knife just missed any vital organs. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll be fine if you give her time to heal.”

“Can we see her?” Spencer choked out. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks stained with tears.

The nurse nodded, “You may, but be careful. Not only will she be dealing with physical scars, she’s going to be going through a mass emotional trauma. She’s been swabbed for DNA and cleaned up as requested by the Bureau. But be warned, experiences like this... they don’t leave the brain easily.�� Please be cautious and try not upset her. She’s in room 241, down the hall and third door on the left.”

Aaron let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Thank you.”

Everyone made their way down the hall quickly, and there you sat, eyes wide open.

“Hey guys.” I croaked.

---

Everyone chatted with you for about 20 minutes before deciding you needed rest. Hotch and Spencer stayed however.

Hotch needed to ask you just one question, “(Y/n),”

“What is it?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It didn’t seem important. It’s apart of my past I don’t particularly like living through, but I will admit that it made me stronger. I knew who it was when we found that note. I should have said something, but I just couldn’t until I knew for sure.” I looked down at my hands, avoiding their gazes.

“I understand (Y/n). But if you keep information from us again, I’ll have to write you up. You endangered yourself and others.” He scolded.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” I looked down at my hands, avoiding their gazes.

“Oh, and (Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” I gave him a soft smile, before he turned and left the room. I waited until he left before turning to Spencer, who had taken a seat next to me.

“I meant what I said. I love you.” I smiled, meeting his beautiful hazel eyes. Much to

“I love you too, (Y/n). But none of this was your fault. You couldn’t have known, and you couldn’t have been sure,” He grasped my hand, much to my surprise. Spencer wasn’t exactly one for physical contact.

I grasped his cheek gently pulling him in for a soft kiss. I pulled away with a gasp of terror, startled by the image of Damian forcing himself upon you.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong?

“I saw him... What he did to me. I’m never going to be able to forget him am I? He’s always going to show up in the corner of my mind.” I cried.

“(Y/n), breathe. It’s alright, he can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll never let anything like this happen you again, none of us will.” He hugged you to him, cautious to not hurt you more.

“Thank you.” I sobbed over and over.

“It’s alright I’ve got you.” He hushed, your cries died down and your body relaxed in his arms. You had fallen asleep. He set you down gently and placed a kiss upon your forehead. “Whatever happens (Y/n), no one will hurt you ever again.” He whispered to your sleeping form.

“Nobody..” he heard you mutter.

He smiled, “Nobody.”

---

It had been a year since the incident. It had been a long recovery, the memories of what happened that day were not forgotten. But here you sat cuddled up to Spencer at a Christmas party that Penelope had decided to throw, enjoying the people you love and cherish.

You looked up at him, a smile on your features,

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” Spencer chuckled at you.

“I was just thinking... The shittiest things have happened to all of us,”

“Very true,”

“But we all have each other. Some people aren’t that lucky.”

“What are you trying to say (Y/n)?”

“I never had a family, people to fall back on, and now I do. I guess I’m just saying I’m lucky is all.” I stated thoughtfully.

I was truly lucky to have every single one of the people who sat before me.

“Marry me.” Spencer blurted out.

“What?”

“I know we haven’t been together long, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Are you sure?” I stared at him, looking for any signs of regret that he may be having right now. I couldn’t find any, all I could see was a man who loved me with his heart and soul.

“Yes, I’m completely sure.” He nodded.

“Yes! Yes I’ll marry you!” Pressing an excited kiss to his lips,

“Wait,” Emily interrupted

“Who’s getting married?” Derek cut her off.

“We are.” I said nervously.

“OH MY GOD!!! FINALLY!!!” Penelope squealed.

“Do you know when?” JJ asked.

Spencer shook his head, “No, not yet. Maybe in April.”

“Congratulations!” Will said, giving you a hug. Everyone else doing the same.

I stopped at Aaron and Jack who was super excited. “There are two things I know for sure though,”

“What’s that?” asked Kevin.

I kneeled down to meet Jack’s eye level, “Jack Hotchner, would you do me the honor of being the ring bearer?”

He looked at his dad excitedly, “Can I daddy?”

Aaron chuckled, “I don’t see why not.”

“Yay!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, “Can my dad help me?”

“Well, I have another job for your daddy,” I grinned and stood, “Aaron Hotchner, you have been for me more than my parents ever have or ever will. You’ve helped me through situations that I couldn’t confide in anybody else with. Not even Spence. After Haley’s death, I wasn’t sure if you’d ever be the same, but you never stopped being there. You have always been a shoulder I and everyone else could cry on. That being said, would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?”

Aaron stared in shock, tears pooling in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he pulled you in for a tight hug. “Yes (Y/n),” He whispered.

“Why are you upset daddy?”

“I’m not upset Jack,” Aaron said, seperating from the hug to look at his son with a smile. “(Y/n) just made me very happy. That’s all.”

Jack giggled, “Good job (Y/n)!!!” He cheered.

Spencer came over and put his hand on your lower back.

“I love you guys, all of you. You’re the best Christmas present a girl could ask for.”

Through the rest of the night, nothing but laughter and love were in the air. New memories were created, ones of love and laughter.

And you knew you’d soon be creating ones of lust when you arrived home with Spencer. It truly was a night that you’d never be able to forget.

---

That’s it! Sorry it’s so sloppy and kind of all over the place when it comes to POV’s. And sorry it’s super super long! I just couldn’t stop writing. Hope you enjoy!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #aaron hotchner x reader #platonic #aaron hotchner imagine #father figure

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

Elastic Heart - Part 4 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Things are heating up. A bit. Like at least a simmer.

Brock was an emotional child. He said it on the show and it’s the truth. Growing up, he was labeled “too sensitive,” the little boy who rescued spiders instead of stomping them, who cried over books (don’t even get him started on Where the Red Fern Grows) and was quiet at birthday parties. It didn’t take him long as a teenager to realize that being that sort of person was not okay at all (what are you GAY or something?), and so brick by brick, he built walls.

You keep walls up long enough and you start to think they’ve always been there. That you’ve always been a private person, the kind that would make a joke instead of acknowledging a shared pain. The kind that would force a smile while the world was ending.

You start to think, maybe, you were born with those walls around your heart.

Maybe the walls are your heart.

But Brock knows that even brick doesn’t last forever. In Toronto you’d see the old buildings starting to crumble in the winter, damaged by water that froze and cracked their foundations. Brick walls can chip, can shatter. Brock’s spent his twenties and early thirties in perpetual maintenance because he knows (he knows) you let a little bit of emotion through, you lose a little bit of self-control, and you lose everything.

Sometimes he feels an odd sort of - not jealousy exactly, but something hungry around queens like Yvie, queens that can go places, be self-righteous and furious and vulnerable, without falling completely to pieces. Queens like Silky who can rage and shout and then move on like the storm never came.

Queens like Vanjie.

Episode 6 is a tough watch. Vanjie crying in the werkroom is physically painful, and Brock puts on a brave face, smiles for his friends and does not let his walls down. He can’t afford to.

Episode 7 is tough in a different way. It’s beyond uncomfortable watching himself talk about personal things on television, hard not to feel like the worst sort of demure Canadian stereotype. He watches Untucked at an after-after-party, and that’s even worse. Everyone seems to love his stupid face, mugging for the fucking camera (and he remembers being a little buzzed but nowhere near as drunk as the world seems to think he is. Those cocktails are more than half ice and probably watered-down vodka anyway.)

More than that, though, is the sight of Vanjie. He hates the way her eyes go dark with surprise and injury after Yvie calls her out. He hates the argument that follows. He even hates the sight of himself building a fucking pillow-fort (incredible legs aside, he’s not blind). It seemed funny enough at the time but now - not so much.

Sometime around 2 am, his phone rings.

Brock is not asleep. He fumbles for a moment on the side table, forgetting briefly that he’s in a hotel and not in his own bed. (He’s always in a hotel these days. And that’s fine. It’s fine.)

“‘lo?”

“Hi mama.”

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

“Hi papi.”

There is music in the background, dulled slightly but still Brock can make out the thump of a DJ, the thunder of a dancefloor. Jose must be in the dressing room of a club.

Brock imagines him, shining with sweat after a show, out of heels but still in lip gloss. If he closes his eyes he can see him, an image distorted by fantasy and loss, bright strokes of crimson oil-paint.

“How you doing?” Jose asks and Brock swallows down a million replies that are too painful to say.

Instead - because he bottles up his feelings like a normal person - he says “Good.” (There are walls around his heart, and they are wrapped in thorns.) “Good. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

Both of them breathe together, and it’s simultaneously too intimate and too distant. The last time they spoke - the last time Brock heard this voice there were tears in his eyes and bile in his mouth and ashes all over the runway -

“Good,” he says stupidly, and Jose laughs.

It’s a brittle sort of laugh, but Brock still wishes to God he hadn’t heard it. Jose’s laugh is something deadly, a poison-tipped arrow straight to the heart.

“Just watching the show tonight, girl. Thought I’d give you a call.”

“Okay.” Brock hesitates to respond, certain he’s going to fuck this up. It’s the first time in months he’s got Jose on the phone; fucking it all up is the only possible option.

“It’s a trip, hey, seeing it on TV. Feels like I’m watching someone else.”

“Yeah,” Brock says. Fuck, he’s really cementing those accusations of having no personality. Say something. Say something.

But he doesn’t. There is too much unsaid between them, all those words stacking up behind Brock’s teeth when he tries to speak, his throat when he tries to swallow. He’s imagined this conversation too many times to count, and now all he can do is listen in silence to the sound of Jose’s breathing, still audible over the music that’s pulsing like a heartbeat in another room.

“Loved you on Untucked, making all them faces. Must’ve been hard listenin’ to me go off in the background, feelin’ so embarrassed.”

“I wasn’t –“

“Gotta build a pillow fort to hide in or some shit. Real hilarious. Real comedy queen.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Brock interrupts, but now that he thinks about it – he can see how it might have looked that way. And he knows Jose was feeling sensitive already about that night, can remember the moment afterwards in his hotel room (“I wanna be better than that,” and his hand on Jose’s throat, sparks flying from their lips, his tongue -)

Stop.

He can’t think about that right now.

“Whatever,” Jose says at last. He sounds exhausted. “I’m not coming for you. Sorry, I’m working too much, not sleeping. You know how we do. I’m kinda fading out.”

He sighs, and Brock swears he can feel the ghost of that sigh against his neck. It raises goosebumps all up the length of his arms, his shoulder blades.

“Where are you?”

“NYC, baby. Where you at?”

Brock almost doesn’t want to tell him. “Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.”

“The fuck - that ain’t a real place.”

“Swear to God. It’s in Canada.”

“Ha, now that explains it. Didn’t know you got cell service up there, in your igloos or whatever.”

“You are such a dick.”

“Don’t lie, girl, we know you love -” Jose stops himself. Brock can basically hear the smile sliding off his face.

He’d forgotten how easy it was, when it was just the two of them. Forgotten how fast he could fall.

“Anyway, um.” Jose clears his throat. “I called because of all this online shit – I shoulda said before – it ain’t me. I didn’t want you to think - cuz I’m not postin’ shit right now, and –"

“Wait. What?”

“Yeah, I shoulda told you sooner. My manager’s paying someone for it, some toddler or something, right? I know we’re s’posed to be all nasty for the fans but it just –“

“It’s not me either,” Brock says quickly. “Someone else is writing it.”

There’s a short silence on the other end of the line. Then Jose laughs again, warm and real this time (Brock has to put out a hand to steady himself even though he’s lying down.)

“Girl, what? I didn’t know that! That’s crazy! Meanwhile I’m feeling so – all these queens tonight were reading me for it, and I was like ‘bitch, mind your business!’ This is some kinda twisted.”

Brock laughs too, helplessly. This whole situation is so fucking ridiculous, it’s unbelievable.

He’s riding the high of Jose’s laughter, feeling like he can breathe for the first time in months, and that’s the only reason he says: “It’s good to hear your voice.”

Jose stops laughing.

There is silence again, only broken by the bass thumping in the background. Brock thinks about how quickly he could be in New York if he caught a standby flight. If Jose asked him -

Say something, Brock. Fuck’s sake, say something.

“Thought you’d’ve heard enough of it by now.” Jose’s gone a bit quiet. Brock wonders if he has that crease on his forehead that means he’s upset. Wishes he could smooth it away with the pad of his thumb.

“That will never happen.” He can’t imagine a world where that voice doesn’t do something to him, doesn’t wake up some hidden place that hasn’t seen sunshine in years. “Jose -”

The music suddenly gets louder, and there’s another voice in the background. Jose says something that Brock can’t quite hear. Someone else laughs.

“Shit, girl, I gotta go. You be good now. I’ll -“ Jose cuts himself off abruptly. Brock waits. Waits. The rest of the sentence never comes, but Jose doesn’t hang up. Brock hears him swear under his breath.

It shouldn’t be like this, Brock wants to scream into the phone. You knew me. You knew me once. You left glitter on my pillow.

“Can I call you?” he asks instead. “Later. Or whenever. Just to –” He suddenly doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“To?”

“Plan,” is the first word that comes into his head. “Plan - for that episode. Like, how we’re going to react. What we should say.”

“Oh.” Jose takes a deep breath. “Sure, yeah. I gotta go, Brock. You – call me later.”

“Okay. Um. Try to get some sleep.”

“Not much chance of that, girl. But what ya gonna do?”

The call ends. Brock closes his eyes.

The sudden silence feels heavy on his chest, like one of those weighted blankets Nina’s always telling him to get. He puts his phone to the side. With his eyes closed he can still see that back-room in the club, Jose taking off his lashes, rolling his shoulders. Brock can almost feel sore muscles beneath his hands, and his fingers twitch against his sheets.

Oh if you were mine.

That’s from a song, right? He can’t remember which one, but it runs in his head as he doesn’t sleep, over and over like a pinwheel spinning.

(And Brock doesn’t know it now, can’t feel it, but somewhere in the walls he’s built, a crack is starting to form.

It spreads through his foundation, shifting it just slightly. Not enough that anyone would notice.

Not yet.)

* * *

The night after Farm to Runway, Brooke is wired and awake and trying unsuccessfully to get into a trashy thriller that her mom leant her - when there’s a knock at her door.

She doesn’t know what to expect when she opens it. Maybe a P.A. with a note from Vee, maybe a producer about to institute a strict “one-cocktail-per-Untucked” limit.

She’s not expecting Vanessa herself, wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt, looking more nervous than Brooke’s ever seen her.

“Hey mama. Can I come in?”

“Uh -”

Behind Vanjie, a little baby-lesbian with a badass haircut and Harry Potter glasses gives a short nod.

“This is Maya, she’s real sweet, she said we got five minutes. Bye Maya!” Vanjie steps through Brooke’s doorway, shutting it behind her.

“Holy shit.” Brooke just stares at her for a moment. “You’re breaking all the rules now, huh.”

“Yeah, just call me muthafucking Willam. This your digs, huh? Shoulda known you’d be crazy tidy. Bitch, you even got shit hanging in the closet? GIRL. You hang up your t-shirts? My Abuela woulda loved you, for real.”

The hyperactive and adorable narration isn’t totally abnormal for Vanjie and yet - something about it strikes Brooke as odd tonight. Uneasy.

“So - you came here to check out my room?”

“Nah, I just. Thought I’d come see ya. Didn’t get much chance to - to -” Vanjie’s hands flutter through the air, restlessly. “Wanted to talk in the van but you know, with Big Silky around, there’s not much chance of that.”

“Okay…” Brooke sits down on the edge of her bed. Vanjie can’t seem to stop moving, shifting from one foot to the other. “What did you want to talk about?”

“All that, you know, shit this evening.” The corner of Vanjie’s mouth twitches up. “Thought maybe you’d be feeling some kinda way about it. About me.”

So that’s what this is. Brooke follows the movement of Vanjie’s hands - pulling at a sleeve, ruffling her hair, twisting together like rope.

“I don’t -”

“Don’t say nothing, lemme finish. I don’t know why it got so real tonight, fucking Yvie coming for me - but I’m not getting into it again, she has her own shit to deal with and we’re gonna - we’ll be good. But I clocked the way you were looking at me, there was a moment there - and I thought I had to tell you, you know, that I don’t do that shit on the regular. That’s not me.”

“Wait - you don’t have to apologize or -”

“I don’t wanna be that bitch. You know, I’ve been that bitch before, and I wanna be better than that.”

“Vanjie,” Brooke stands back up, stepping across the room and stopping the movements of Vanjie’s hands with her own.

Vanjie immediately looks up at her, tilting her jaw back like it’s a challenge.

Her fingers are warm. They slide gently against Brooke’s.

“I like the way you are,” Brooke says, and Vanjie does that odd, slanted smile that Brooke’s seen so many times in the werkroom, the one that makes something spark and stutter in Brooke’s chest.

“Who wouldn’t? I mean -” Vanjie does a little shimmy but doesn’t let go of Brooke’s hands. And self-deprecating is not really something Brooke thought she’d see in this queen, but that’s what this feels like. Whether the girl is shimmying or not.

“Yes, we all know you’re fucking gorgeous. But I don’t just mean - that.” Brooke’s throat is getting tight, and she flashes back to her conversation with Ru that afternoon (talking about serious things always makes me cry. It gives me anxiety just thinking about it.)

Fuck. Congrats Brooke on being the whitest person in Drag Race herstory.

“I mean. I like the way you are.” Brooke releases a breath, and if she gets teary-eyed now she’s going to throw herself off the balcony. She removes one hand from Vanjie’s grasp, lifts it to the side of Vanjie’s face. “Like, all of it.”

Something creases between Vanjie’s brows, a tiny flicker of pain that is instantly smoothed over. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then she leans her head into Brooke’s palm.

“Bitch, why your hands so soft?” Vanessa murmurs, and Brooke drags her other hand up over Vanjie’s throat, and wishes that the world outside that closed door could just go away for one night. Just give them one night alone together, give Brooke one night to touch Vanjie every where she wants to, memorize the freckles on her hips and the ticklish places on her knees and suck her off and hold her close and kiss her until she was drunk with it, kiss her until

- you know what, fuck it.

Brooke hauls Vanjie up, off the ground and into her arms. Vanjie laughs low and rough as she wraps her legs around Brooke’s hips, and Brooke walks them backwards until Vanjie is pressed against the hotel room wall and they are kissing, mouths open and hot and wet.

When their hips grind together, it feels like a gun going off. Brooke’s knees are shaking already.

Vanjie uses her tongue like it’s a weapon, kisses as demanding as her personality, and Brooke’s never felt like this, never. This isn’t a quick peck in the werkroom or backstage lounge, this is finally getting Vanjie where Brooke wants her, finally getting her alone.

“Will you fuck me?” Vanjie pulls back, eyes dazed and lips swollen. “I want you to, I been thinking about it -”

“Oh my god,” Brooke whispers, because yes to that, right now that is the only thing she wants in the whole world.

Vanjie’s hands are on Brooke’s t-shirt, pushing it up as she scrapes her teeth along the edge of Brooke’s jaw. Brooke frees one of her hands to fist it in Vanjie’s hair, tilting her head back so their mouths meet again.

“You gotta,” Vanjie says, “Please. I can’t stop wanting it.”

“Okay.” Brooke’s beyond reason at this point, can’t think about anything except the warm body writhing against hers and how to get them both naked as soon as fucking possible.

A knock at the door makes them both freeze.

Their eyes meet in horror - like they’re teenagers whose parents have come home too early - before the absurdity of the situation hits them both at the same time, and they start giggling like idiots.

“Start the clock, bitch!” Vanjie yells, and Brooke snorts with laughter, and then they’re kissing again, smiling against each other’s lips. Brooke waits for reality to kick in, hoping it will take its time.

But it doesn’t (the knock at the door comes again, slightly more insistent.)

“Damn it. Okay. Okay. Just -” Brooke reluctantly lowers Vanjie to the floor, both of them moaning at the delicious slide of contact between their bodies. “I’m not getting us kicked off Drag Race.”

“It’d be worth it, baby,” Vanjie purrs, batting her eyelashes until Brooke has no choice but to lean down and kiss her again, hands winding in her hair, Christ, she tastes like peppermint and cream soda and -

“Wait. Okay.” Brooke drops her hands, fists clenching. “No, don’t look at me like that. I can’t - “

“Like this?” Vanessa grins all sly and sexy up at her.

“Yes, like -” Brooke has to take a few steps backwards, putting some distance between them while she can.

“Ugh, you’re a monster, it’s not fair.” Vanjie straightens up her shirt, tries to pat her hair into something less obvious. “You get to look so fine, and send me packing?”

“It’ll be worth it,” Brooke says, not certain what she’s talking about. Worth the wait? Worth the prize? Worth a month in a sparkly warzone shooting glances at each other over sewing machines? “When I win, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Ha! Fuck that, Mary, you just try it. You can use some of my money to wipe your tears.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a dick.” Brooke shakes her head, and Vanjie winks.

“Yeah, well, you know you love it.” She crosses to the door. “Night night Brooky Poo.”

Brooke stares after her long after she’s gone, knees still shaking.

Mouth still sweet as peppermint.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #angst #canon compliant #smut #eventual happy ending #elastic heart #mia ugly #conceit welcome #submission #s11 #on set fic

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