#I genuinely do hope they get their shit together and get into therapy. Not holding my breath though. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I was the anon who asked about the SAHSR au.

May I request headcanons with Caelus, Dan Heng, March 7th, Welt, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Kafka and Blades reaction to having 2 players in one account? One ABSOLUTELY loves the fighting (and the flirting choices) of the game, while the other is more invested in the lore (ESPECIALLY the garbage can lore). (Ill call em FP and LP respectively).

Both share one main team when they play story mode together but have their own teams when they play independently, they work together like an well-oiled machine when they play together. (FP specializing in fights with equiptment and strategy, while LP aids in lore aspects of quests, and explains lore to FP when theyre confused) The main trio have a special place in their hearts so they lovingly call em "our children"

Id imagine, they'd get petty if one accidentally plays some of the storyline ahead being like " you played ahead...??? Without me?!?!?! JAIL! JAIL FOR 100,000 YEARSS >:o" - LP

Heres some interactions I'd imagine the character may overhear:

Fp: *about sampo's slits of skin* he's just a goofy little guy who just a little fruity, I mean sureeee he's aware of the fourth wall and scams people BUT he's just so silly 😌💕 Lp: Listen, I get it, he's your snookims 🙄 but just because he's dresses fruity DOES NOT make you immune to the cold, ESPECIALLY the Belabog winters.😒

LP: *Blade makes a quote about death* Me too bestie, me too 😔✌️ FP: Jesus christ, LP we've talked about this, this is the exact the reason I can't let you have Blade on your team. LP: I mean to be fair, the difference between me and them is that I got therapy and a solid support system. He's just my darker timeline. FP: ..... Dammit your right..

FP: *Just pulled Kafka* LETS GOOOO!! MOMMY KAFKA HAS COME HOME TO MEEE!!! *barking* LP: *snorts in the background* FP: Oh Shi- * hits themselves with the phone* LP: * laughing hysterically with the sounds of slapping can be heard in the back*

LP: *out of the blue* I miss my hubby :( FP: Who? LP: Screwllium FP: .... The robot??? LP: Yeah :( FP: Why?? Are your old men not enough for you? LP: Besides how cool his design is, and his genuine charm, I have a better chance at romance with a robot then any human-esque being FP: ... if we ever see your cousins again I'm going to beat the living shit out of them for destroying your confidence...

(if it's too much and your not comfy, no pressure to do this, but please just let me know Also, sorry that it's long, I got super excited 😅 and needed to get it out of my head ajdbjdnd, but thank you if you accept my request)

Hi! Thank you for your request! This is a really cool idea; hopefully I've done it justice. I love the interaction examples you've put in your request; they made me laugh! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like the headcanons.

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, March 7th, Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Kafka, Blade

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A self-aware au in which two players with very different play styles share an account. What do the characters think of them?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first of the “children”. Caelus feels flattered that the players think of him that way but is a bit curious as to why they call him that considering everyone’s respective age…

Loves the banter between the two players. He’s a quietly sarcastic little gremlin so that’s right up his alley.

Has a soft spot for the lore focused player, mostly since they like the garbage can lore and that’s something he feels he and the player can bond over.

But both players hold a special place in his heart since he’s formed a bond with both of them over the course of the game.

Dan Heng has so many questions. Why are the players calling him their “child”? He’s older than they are. And there’s certainly no biological connection.

Regardless, he knows it’s their way of displaying affection so he’ll take their comments with gratitude, despite their baffling nature.

Has a preference towards the lore invested player, mostly because history and the story behind the story are his interests as well. He feels they can bond over that shared interest.

He also appreciates it when the players find records that get added to the archive. He wouldn’t be able to read as much if they didn’t so he’s very grateful.

Unlike Dan Heng, March absolutely loves being referred to as one of the players “children”. She thinks it’s a sweet term of affection.

She doesn't like playing favourites but she has a preference towards the player that prefers fighting and flirting. She thinks they’re fun!

Like Caelus, March loves the banter between the players, as long as it doesn’t get too serious; she likes to keep things fun.

She always gets nervous when the story progresses with only one player present. She knows they only play the storyline together, so she gets concerned that something has happened to the other player.

Welt is concerned about the players sometimes…why is one of the players calling Screwllum their “hubby”? And is the other player talking about him when they talk about the old man?!

But his concern is just his way of displaying his affection for the players.

The contrast between their playing styles may have confused and annoyed him at first but it quickly grows on him and now he can’t imagine any other playing style.

Doesn’t really have a favourite between the players. If he had to choose, he might lean more towards the lore focused player since flirting isn’t really his style. But he cares for the both pretty equally.

Jing Yuan will argue over who the players are referring to when they talk about the “old men” forever. In his mind, that’s him; if he’s going to be called old, it may as well be in reference to someone showing interest in him…

He’s a general so he has a lot of respect for the players for taking turns when their respective interests and strengths are relevant.

Despite their cohesion, Jing Yuan will sometimes critique the players on their shortfallings. They work well together most of the time, but when one plays ahead, Jing Yuan just shakes his head.

He knows there’s going to be some pettiness to follow the next time both players are on together.

Sampo doesn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted when the players keep talking about him being “just a goofy little guy who’s just a little fruity”.

He loves the fighting and flirting player; they remind him a lot of himself so he feels like they share a strong connection.

Since he’s the only one with the power to break the fourth wall, he often passes on messages from the other characters. He just has to find ways to work those messages into the story so it doesn’t seem strange.

And the other characters have to repay him somehow. Sampo’s not doing that for free, he’s got his own messages to pass along as well.

Kafka is subtly honoured that the players feel so positively about her, especially the fighting and flirting player.

When she came home for the first time, she was bombarded by screams as the players celebrated her arrival.

Doesn’t have a favourite between the players but if forced to choose, she would probably say the fighting flirting player.

What can she say? Undying affection is something she can appreciate and that player certainly has that in droves for her.

Blade is more reserved about his affection for the players. His main way of displaying affection for them is increasing the number of quotes he says about death.

He knows the lore based player likes those quotes and he enjoys hearing the banter between the players after he says something edgy.

He is slightly concerned about them sometimes though. His edginess and depression is fine since he’s just a character. But it’s different for the players and he hopes they’re doing okay.

No preference between the players but he prefers it when they’re both playing together. It leads to less conflict in the future…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment, or reblog will mean just as much.

#writing #fanfic #headcanons #headcanon request #request #honkai star rail #caelus #dan heng #march 7th #welt yang #sampo koski #jing yuan #kafka #blade

33 notes · View notes

caelumsnuff · 2 years ago

Note

do you have any opinions on the recent geordi video?

Why thank you for asking! Yes i sure do!!!

So these are a lot of the same opinions i have stated on this blog before but im SO happy they broke up and im SO proud of Geordi!!!! He’s doing great, my baby boy standing up for himself!!!

I have some really strong apprehension about where this series is going though, and I honestly really genuinely hope they never get back into a romantic relationship together again, for reasons. Honestly i would even be upset if they became friends after all this was said and done. I wouldn’t mind if they like sat down and had a conversation way way way after the fact just to tie off any loose ends and agree to go their separate ways, but i dont know if thats likely???

Im really curious about the whole Geordi knowing about magic thing is gonna go now tho, i am intrigued by the possibility that he gets his memory wiped by the department LOL. (I am now realizing that this would give Erik the opportunity to rewrite Cutie coming back into his life afterwards, which would be. Fucking horrible. I hope this stays a silly little thought in my silly little head and doesn’t come to fruition.)

Im interested to see where it goes but im holding onto the proverbial oh shit handle. Im just really tired of all the “just forgive your abuser UwU they apologized so its okay OwO just hug itll make everything better i promise u3u” type stories that have been coming out recently. Im sure some other abuse survivors disagree with me, and thats okay, thats just my opinion and what i personally desire out of my media. Erik was trying to have a narrative about how abuse is bad with this storyline and i just hope the ending/culmination of that isn’t “forgive them and get back in a relationship with your abuser.” Therapy and changing your behavior doesn’t entitle you to forgiveness or having access to someone’s life again.

I hope that Geordi heals from yet another abusive relationship, and maybe in the future falls in love with someone who actually respects him, finds some friends he can have healthy relationships with. I want him happy to be honest, i really feel for him.

Thanks again for the ask!

#anon #ask #redacted asmr #also like idk #if he brought cutie back in after geordi’s memory is wiped (if that happened)#it’d be like what people THINK happened between avior and starlight but worse????#idk maybe in some other storyline that isnt about drawing boundary lines and standing up for yoursef against abuse #it would be very interesting #but in this storyline i think itd just be. hopelessly bleak. and not even in a fun narrative way bc this narrative is about abuse!?#‘oh abuse is inevitable and you standing up for yourself wont even save you in the long run’#imagine lmao thats fucked #anyways im a revenge fantasy type enby #and i think the best revenge for Geordi specifically is to live a happy healthy enriched life completely devoid of Cutie

2 notes · View notes

floridanotfound · 29 days ago

Text

yapping about personal (mildly depressing) shit so feel free to keep scrolling 💞

update on why peach keeps on disappearing:

long story short - I'm just a girl & life is overwhelming sometimes

there's been lots going on with my family and my way of dealing with stressful or traumatic situations is to try and keep the peace and remain calm even if I am making myself physically sick in the process bc I can't handle conflict between people I love and I need to hold shit together, things are kind of good at work but I put myself under a lot of pressure and I get super anxious about it, my dad's partner is a just genuinely not a very nice person and I fear we are in too deep for my dad to change his mind bc she can nearly do no wrong in his eyes and it's been like 5 years now and I'm kind of struggling with it recently bc of certain events that have taken place, my grandmother passed away very recently and I don't deal well with death at all, especially since losing my mum, I am hardcore indenial and I had to see lots of family that make me and my sister uncomfortable at the funeral, my 91 grandfather in heart broken, has a lot of health complications and is really not very well, I think my head is also just generally messy at the moment and I'm trying to navigate my way through it and in the process of doing that I get super overwhelmed by small things including being sociable and maintaining relationships/connections with people even though I miss people terribly when I disappear and then worry that they won't be there when I come back or they think I dont care which isnt the case, anyways I'm sure things will get better bc they usually do and life moves in cycles and I try to be optimistic and hopeful bc that is how I cope with life💞 sorry for over sharing on tumblr.com instead of going to therapy

#like maybe i should write this in a journal or tell a paid professional but here we are so im gonna need u to either lock in or look away #peach post

0 notes

shallowrambles · 2 years ago

Text

SPNWin got better last episode imho

I'll be honest, in a lot of the Robbie Thompson SPN episodes, I thought the dialogue was really stilted and verbose--almost a comic-book like level of verbal dumping. He does okay with Dean (most do), but imho he doesn't do a particularly good job capturing Sam's humorous derision OR Cas's often wry, blunt observations--at least, not to the level of something like, say, Ben Edlund does. He gets the emotional core like nobody's businees, like wow, but there's something oddly strained in his portrayal of neuroatypical traits (often, he leans a bit hard into innocent and wide-eyed naïveté imho, which is why his Sam and Cas sometimes suffer). So, in a way, I was unsurprised that the dialogue felt REALLY stilted on the front-end of The Winchesters. Because showrunning stuff like this tends to be top-down, regardless of underwriters. But I also love what Robbie germinates in terms of themes, emotional understanding, and world-building. Sometimes he's meta to the point of undermining character relationships, sure (Oz, Thule stuff), but he's also a perfectly fantastic writer. It's like seeing the worst of myself when I try to write lol. I let characters be WAY too verbose, most of the time because I'm working through too much shit at once. Anyway, in The Winchesters, the characters are solving and resolving and verbalizing all their issues and engaging in one long, sometimes painfully unnatural therapy session. If I added one specialist to their writing team, it'd be someone for dialogue, because the themes and structure I find to be quite solid!

You can argue that that's the point, that it's Dean's psychosis. But eh. I think there's merit to acknowledging that the core four, oozing in charisma, are often weighted down with unnatural dialogue on top of good themes. Only John, the one character allowed to be flawed, feels less stereotype. Lata and Carlos are allowed to be "fun-and-games" more often, but they too are incredibly weighted down with "saying all the right things" imho. :(

///

But last episode was better! I think it was genuinely better in balancing the preachy dialogue with better action and pacing. So, here's my prayer sent up to fandom Heaven that it's going to be a trend in the rest of the episodes on the back half.

I thought John-Mary getting together helped tremendously with the pacing and the dialogue, and that came as something of a shock to me. Because there's not a lot of narrative tension riding on John and Mary actually getting together. What's more interesting is the forces driving them apart. What's more interesting is determining, "What's real about it? Is anything real about it? How will they act on finding out that they're pawns in a cosmic game?"

Despite the fandom aversion to it, it's not unusual for John and Mary to go through an infatuation in their romance stage (which is a thing most pop-psy books talk about and something neuroendocrinology tends to support). I don't hold that against them at all! I find the construct of "phases "of love to be very helpful in acknowledging that all relationships grow and change. John and Mary are young and in the "high, the elation" stage, with glimmers of accommodation in Mary calling out John. That's not weird! It's a perfectly normal romantic kickoff.

(Wush list: here's not enough flawed!Mary though. We've got to see more flawed!Mary, beyond being "Campbell bossy," or this will be a very boring love story of scapegoat!John). Here's hoping!

#spnwin crit #spnwin wank

0 notes

biisexualemma · 3 years ago

Text

lose her. frank castle

word count: 3.3

warnings: b!ombs, blood, injury in some detail (broken bones / wounds etc.) and some serious angst / hurt shit

requested: 'Could you do frank/reader where reader gets shot and frank goes full protective/worried that he's going to lose someone else?? :)'

plot: you get badly injured and frank thinks he's going to lose you

a/n: i am so sorry for the level of angst and emotion i put into this imagine, i genuinely need some form of therapy after writing this i loved every second at the same time it ripped my heart out. anyway, on that note, hope you like it. i didn't 100% follow the request but it's pretty similar! i might write a part two if i feel so inclined lol

masterlist

you had left the flowers out for him but you'd had no contact. you were beginning to think that something could be seriously wrong with him, and you had no way of knowing where he was or in what kind of state he was in. you chewed your fingers as you sat at your desk, eyes trained on the email sitting on your screen in front of you but really you hadn't read a single word. your eyebrows softly furrowed together as you sat so deep and lost in thought you hadn't noticed foggy leave his office and enter yours.

"any luck?" he held the file containing the case details in hand, eyes not leaving the sheets of paper at first as he scanned the dates on the page for any discrepancies. "y/n?" he lifted his head, eyes trailing upwards when he heard no response. he tilted his head slightly, he looked you up and down. you were completely unaware of his presence despite him being only a few feet away. "hey," he stepped closer, snapping his fingers a couple times to catch your attention.

your head snapped in foggy's direction, eyebrows unknitting and a vacant, lost expression fogging over your wide eyes. "oh hey, fog," you muttered quietly, clearing your throat and straightening your back. "what's up?"

his eyebrows twitched into a small frown. "just checking how you're getting on with the march files," your lips parted forming a small 'o', feeling caught out as you glanced down at the unopened folder sitting in front of you on your desk. "i'm having no luck with april."

"i--uh--sorry, i haven't-- i haven't looked at them yet," you scrambled around on your desk, scooping up the relevant files and gathering them together. "i'm-- uh-- i'm just in my head a bit. i think i'm gonna take a quick break," your palm pressed against your forehead, trying to ease the headache you had forming. "go for a walk or something."

foggy's frown deepened as he watched you collect the folders on your desk and clutch them in your arms, pressed against your chest in a tight hug. you ran your hand through your hair, grabbing your bag and your phone. "sure," foggy nodded, trying not to read too much into this. you'd be working just as long hours as he had on this case trying to figure out how best to present it in court next week. he figured the least you deserved was a break to clear your head. he just hoped that's all it was. his eyes trailed after you as you moved around the office collecting various items and shoving them into your bag.

"i'll try not to be too long," you mumbled as you moved around your desk and towards the door. "thanks foggy," you nudged his arm as you walked past him, closing the door behind you before he could even get a word in.

"see you later i guess," he mumbled to himself after you left. everyone seemed to be awol lately.

you sat in your apartment, eyes trained on the white roses sitting on your windowsill, willing them to be seen. your coffee cup locked between your fingers had grown cold, half drunk since you had lost your focus on anything besides those flowers a while ago.

you let out a sigh that you hadn't realised you'd been holding, setting your cup down on the coffee table and running your fingers through your hair (which was growing increasingly messy from your nervous habit). you had been convinced he always had eyes on those flowers, he always made sure to contact you pretty quickly after you presented them.

you had no address, no phone number, nothing of use. you felt at a loss. you really needed that walk to clear your head now, sitting at home thinking about every possible worse scenario was not helping at all. decisively you grabbed your phone and dialled the only number you could think of to help you with your predicament.

"hey what's up?" karen's voice rang through the other end of the line. "foggy told me you took off from work early?" her voice was laced with concern.

you nodded softly though she couldn't see you. "yeah-- no i'm fine, i'm alright. i just-- karen i need your help with something," you chewed on your bottom lip, hesitating. select few people knew that frank was still alive. you didn't want to risk him being found out, but you were getting pretty desperate.

"anything," she didn't hesitate. "just name it."

"i need you to help me find someone."

"who?" her interest and curiosity had peaked, you could tell by the change in her tone. you assumed she thought this was related to the case you and foggy were working on, because why would she think otherwise?

you shook your head. you trusted karen with your life, but you couldn't do this over the phone. "i think it'd be better if we met face to face."

she hummed in agreement. "the office here at the paper is pretty empty," she suggested. "and i have my own office now, so plenty of privacy, and resources?"

you mulled it over for a moment, though you didn't really have any other choice. "i'll be there as soon as i can."

"you spoken to matt at all?" you quizzed, eyebrows knitted together as you flicked through some of the files sitting on karen's desk. you were making small talk. matt was probably the last person you really wanted to know anything about right now. as much as you loved that man, some things just took priority in your head. and right now, the only thing you could focus on was frank.

karen glanced up from her computer, eyebrows knitted together tightly. "hm?" she looked over at you, her piercing blue eyes were clouded with confusion. probably the same look you had given foggy earlier.

"i asked if you've you spoken to matt," you repeated, propping yourself up on the end of her desk as she continued to dig through her files.

"oh-- uh, no," she shook her head, but she wasn't really listening too well, something had caught her attention. you leaned backwards, peering over the desk so you could see her computer screen. she glanced at you out of the corner of her eyes, narrowing them before she spoke again. "you wanna' tell me why we're looking for frank castle again?"

"oh-- uh, no?" you shrugged. "just need you to trust me on this one," she scoffed, she'd heard that from you one too many times. she tightened her jaw and moved her eyes back to the screen when something popped up and dragged her attention away from you.

"what?" you asked, glancing between her face and the screen in front of her. what was she seeing that you were clearly missing? "what is it?"

"look," she mumbled, leaning back in her seat and covering her mouth with her hand. she turned the screen of her computer to face you entirely, she clicked on the email attachment and up popped a video.

"shit," you cursed under your breath. bombs, three separate ones had all hit central parts of the city. now you really needed to know where frank was. "when was this?"

"uh— i—" she inspected the screen, eyes squinted. "'bout an hour a go i think?"

shit.

as if your thoughts were being monitored, the burner phone you'd be gripping tightly in your palm all day, began to vibrate. you jolted, your nerves were shaken after everything, but still you were quick to flip the phone open. unknown number.

"is that him?" karen gave you a weary, disapproving look that she really had down after all the years of knowing you.

you just nodded, ignoring her pleading eyes and turning away from her as you hit the button to answer.

"hey," your heart was beating out of your chest, hands clammy and unsteady from all the anxiety that had built up throughout the day. you let out a shaky breath you didn't realise you'd been holding till you heard his gravely voice through the phone. "are you safe?"

you nodded at first, but realising he couldn't see you. "yeah," you ran your fingers through your hair. "where the hell have you been?" you shot at him, your voice coming out weaker than you intended it to sound.

you heard him sigh into the phone. "i've been handling somethin'," you shook your head, eyebrows knitting together. "what's with the flowers?"

"shit, frank," you cursed under your breath. "you could've just sent me a text so i knew you were ok."

"i told you i was—"

"it's been hours—" you cut him off, losing your cool for a second. all that anxiety was still coursing through you, making you jittery and unstable. "i thought something had— and then this shit with the bombs— i just— you could've given me something."

he was quiet for a minute, absorbing your words and their meaning. "m'sorry," he mumbled, a soft grunt echoing through the phone. "'didn't mean to make you worry."

"it's— i'm not—" you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath and releasing it seconds later. "i just need to talk to you."

he was quiet again, you thought maybe he'd hung up for a split second until he spoke. "meet me at the usual spot, in an hour," you nodded though he couldn't see you. you let out a soft sigh of relief. you just needed to see him in the flesh, reassure your busy mind. "be careful."

"i'll try to be," you turned to see karen holding a brown package, her eyebrows knitted together. you heard frank mumble something about doing more than just trying through the phone, but you're attention was elsewhere.

in fairness, you really did try to be careful, but bad things had a way of just happening to you.

"karen," you mumbled, letting the phone slip from your ear, franks voice drifting away as you took a cautious step closer to her. "what is—?"

you were cut off when karen's eyes widened. "y/n— get down—!" she threw the parcel away from the both of you, just as it burst open and exploded.

you were thrown backwards, your head slamming into something hard and you were out.

you woke up after a while, you felt two hands either side of your body, violently shaking you. your eyes rolled as you opened them up, only for them to be clouded by black smoke and a heavy fog of dust. your ears were filled with a loud ringing noise, and you couldn't hear much else. you felt deprived of your senses, making you all the more confused. your eyebrows furrowed, slowly you came to realise what had happened. you hurled onto your side, trying to push yourself up off the ground but you couldn't. your arms seemed to give up on you, your head spinning as you moved around.

your head felt like it'd been cracked open, pain shooting down from the crown of your skull to the nape of your neck. you let out a gargled groan, your hand reaching out to find the body next to yours. you felt a hand latch onto yours and through the thick fog you saw the strawberry blonde with a bloodied face and a tight grip.

you saw her mouth moving but all you heard was an ear splitting, incessant ringing. karen motioned to her ears, you shook your head mimicking her movements, understanding now that she was experiencing what you were. she looked bad, her forehead was split and bleeding heavily, her clothes torn and hands bloodied. you wondered just how bad you must look.

you tried to use your free hand to push yourself up off the ground but karen was quick to push you back down. you read her lips that mouthed stay, but you couldn't figure out why. you shook your head, trying to move again and insist that you were fine. this wasn't a safe place to stay, surely she must realise that. but she persisted. her eyes were glossy and you couldn't see why.

she was speaking again but this time you couldn't figure it out. the ringing was starting to dull and become less piercing, you could make out odd words but not enough to string a sentence together.

you frowned, moving your hand to your side when you felt a sharp pain shoot up through your ribs. you pressed lightly against your rib cage, feeling for any broken bones, of which you found a few. realising now you were pretty badly injured and couldn't feel the extent of those injuries yet, you began to search for more.

your fingers found your face, only to find blood and dirt covering the right side, you couldn't find a source though. you moved down, to your shoulders and to your chest where you found your collarbone sitting in an usual position. you gulped and moved down hovering over the broken ribs and to your leg, when your head shot up. eyes widened as you saw the large piece of shrapnel sticking out of your left thigh. your breathing began to grow uneven, your eyes filling with pure fear for the first time since the bomb had gone off.

karen had tightly tied her belt around your upper thigh to stop the blood loss but you were sitting in a pool of red. as your breathing grew heavier, it grew more strained, the tightness in your chest growing more and more.

a metallic taste lined your lips as they quivered, your eyes moving back to karen who was desperately trying to reassure you whilst coping with her own pain. you felt hot tears brim your eyes, your lashes soaking them up and making it harder to see. pain was washing through your entire body faster and more intense every second you became more aware.

"...ok... y/n..." karen's voice faded in an out amongst the ringing. "... soon... just stay... don't worry..." she bit down on her bottom lip, her hand gripping your shoulder tightly. you reached for her hand again and gripped it tighter than before, shaking your head weakly. this was bad, you both knew it. "s'ok..." she muttered weakly, squeezing your hand with her own bloodied one.

that was when you saw him appear behind you. upside down from your position on the floor. your frown deepened, eyes tightening with relief causing the tears to slip out when you finally saw his face, though it was bloodied and bruised. "frank," your bloodied lips called out desperately as he met you on the floor. his hand cradled either side of your head, your blood transferring onto his fingertips, his face hovering over you upside down with watery brown eyes and deep breaths fanning your cheeks. he was careful not to move you.

"baby," he muttered shakily and softly, the ringing like a background noise now. his gravely voice taking centre stage, the only thing you could focus on to avoid thinking about the pain. "alright— alright," he was assessing the damage, eyes moving over your body. your left leg impaled and sitting at an unnatural angle was clearly broken, jagged breathing meant broken ribs, superficial cuts littered the uncovered skin of your arms and face but nothing too deep, your pupils were dilated meaning the blood soaking your hair and half your face was probably more serious than first thought. "fuck, alright."

"m'alright," you mumbled almost incoherently. "'m'fine" he was baffled at your trying to reassure him when it should be the other way around. he couldn't lose you, he couldn't go through this again. he desperately tried to suppress the visions of this wife and kids clouding his mind, trying to focus only on you in front of him, breathing and alive.

not again. not again. he repeated to himself endlessly on a loop. evening muttering it aloud to himself to keep himself sane. he couldn't help you, or anyone, if he let his trauma sweep him up. you were depending on him with these big, wet, wide eyes full of fear.

his hands shook, his trigger finger twitching wildly as his hands cupped your face, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "damn straight," his voice shaking as he mumbled against your skin. "not gonna let you go that easy," he tried to ease the tension. he sniffled, wiping under his nose with the back of his hand. his heart tightened in his chest when your lips stretched into a toothy smile, blood stained your teeth. your eyebrows knitted in pain despite the smile on your face.

"frank," karen muttered from beside him, catching his attention for only a second. "the paramedics are gonna be here any minute," she warned. "you can't be here."

"like hell i'm leaving her here like this," he spat through gritted teeth. karen frowned, watching as he held you with caution and care, but it didn't change anything. he was still very much a wanted man, for some pretty terrible things, whether he did them or not. he couldn't be here at the scene of another bombing when they were accusing him of the last three incidents.

"frank— they'll arrest you— they already suspect—"

"no," he raised his voice, karen jolting away from him. he was well aware of what the police and the news were accusing him of. but he couldn't leave you like this. he couldn't abandon you. he physically couldn't. "sweetheart, m'not going anywhere without you," he mumbled only to you, his jaw tightened, biting down on the inside of his cheek. he was going to put a bullet in the head of that lewis kid. his only regret being he hadn't done it sooner.

"she's right," you mumbled quietly. "frank, you know she's— she's right."

he shook his head, eyes hot with tears. "i can't," he took a deep breath, hollowing his cheeks out as he did, glancing away from your bloodied face for a split second. "just look at you— i mean— i—i just need to make sure they take care of ya'— i can't—"

straining yourself you lifted your arm up over your head, ignoring his pleas for you to stay still. "frank, stop," you shook your head weakly. damp eyelashes fluttered against your pink cheeks as you softly shushed him until his spiralling came to a halt. your hand reached up, latching onto the nape of his neck and pulling him down so his forehead rested against yours. you squeezed the back of his neck, pushing your forehead up against his in an effort to calm the both of you down. you felt him release a deep breath, followed by yours shortly after. his hand moved your shoulder where he squeezed gently.

"karen's gonna look after me, alright? she ever let you down before?" you spoke after a moments silence. you heard sirens in the distance growing nearer. he shook his head gently, still pressed against yours. "right, so go," he made to argue with you but you cut him off. "she's tough as shit 'n' so am i, what're you worried about?" you were scared shitless and he knew this. he squeezed your shoulder, nuzzling his forehead against yours once more before retracting. your comforting hand still rested on the nape of his neck, slipping away as he pulled back.

you were a sight. a sight frank never wanted to see you in again for as long as you lived. but i guess that was the kind of pain and suffering that frank knew he brought to the lives of those he cared about. maybe it was time for a change if it meant keeping you safe.

"go," you insisted again, eyes pleading with his big, soft as shit, brown eyes that were glued on you. you practically had to push him away when the sirens closed in around the building. "m'serious frank, get outta' here, now."

he had to tear himself away from your watery eyes and force himself down the hall, as far away from you as he could get and without getting caught.

1K notes · View notes

frogtanii · 4 years ago

Text

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

2K notes · View notes

chromatic-fate · 3 years ago

Text

I Dream of What Ifs

Hello, everyone!

I am a big fan of @thedeerus Persona 5 AU’s and I decided to make a one-shot of their Murder Boyfriend AU! If you don’t know @thedeerus , please go check them out, they make some cool ass shit (and please send them some couples therapy their way their wife is trying kill them--)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goro got nightmares, it was a nightly occurrence for him and Akira. It was one of the reasons they slept together every night. But tonight they had to sleep alone.

It was the night before Goro, Akria, and the Phantom Thieves stole Sae Niijima’s Treasure, and Takamaki had suggested a big sleepover at her apartment. The Detective Duo tried to refuse, but Suzui, the little shit, made it mandatory under the pretense that “it would be a great way to build team trust before the end of our arrangement.” Bitch.

Goro lied on his futon, losing a staring contest with the ceiling as he tried his best to fight off the impending sleep. He had run through each detailed step for tomorrows plan at least ten times now, and came up with a few more scenarios that he quickly made plan for as well, but he could feel the tiredness slowly seep into his bones.

A sudden whimper from his right made Goro turn his head towards the sound. Akira, who lay right next to him on the living room floor, had an expression of deep pain and worry. His brows were knitted together, his eyes squeezed tight as if waiting for a hard blow, and his breathing heavier than normal.

Goro let out a quiet sigh before gently grabbing Akira’s hand and slowly rubbing circles with his thumb. Eventually, Akira’s breathing evened out and his face began to relax, making the brunette smile fondly at him.

Goro released his hand from Akira’s before getting up from his futon and heading to the kitchen. Goro needed the sleep, he knew he did, it was a big day for everyone tomorrow, but it was hard to sleep with the nightmares. Goro grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it with water.

As the brunette drank his glass, his thought of ways he could mitigate the nightmares while here. He knew that physical contact with Akira helped both their nightmares, so maybe he could hold Akira’s hand and cover them up with something? No, their futons were far enough apart that it would look suspicious, and there was no way that either of them were going to get up before any of the thieves.

“Akechi?” A quiet, but still very sudden, voice said from behind him.

Goro quickly lowered his glass and spun to the voice, his mind on high alert now. At the entrance of the kitchen stood Suzui, but something was off about her; her dark brown eyes seemed dim, and her body posture was small and fearful.

“Ah, Suzui, what are you doing up this late?” Goro asked, quickly trying to hide his alertness.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Suzui quickly put up a smile, but Goro could tell it was fake.

The brunette gave a practiced chuckle and set his glass down in the sink as Suzui want to grab one herself. She quietly filled the glass with water and slowly drank from the it, her fake smile slowly fading as well as she stared off into space.

A though crossed Goro’s mind as he stared at the leader of the Phantom Thieves right next to him. Suzui is acting off, she must be shaken by something. Most likely a bad nightmare. Goro internally smirked.

“Are you alright? You seem a little distracted.” The boy asked gently. He had to be careful here, on wrong move and Suzui would shut him down.

The girl snapped her head to the detective. She stared at him for a good few minutes, a contemplative look in her eyes. Looks like she thinking over his over. Eventually, she let out a quiet sigh and gently set her glass on the counter.

“Do you ever wonder…what it might be like…if things were just a little different?” Suzui asked.

“What do you mean?” Goro responded, trying to get more out of the girl.

There was a quiet pause before Suzui continued. “The reason I started the Phantom Thieves was to stop Kamoshida from hurting me, Ann, and the other volleyball players, but I only managed to gain that courage because I had access to the Metaverse…” She paused again, turning her head to look away from him. “And I was only able to awaken Medea because Ann was going to die…”

“I’m sorry that you were put into that situation.” Goro tried to comfort.

Suzui stayed silent for a little while, leaving a tense atmosphere between them, so tense that Goro visibly tense for a few milliseconds, before she spoke up again.

“But, after everything that’s happened with Okumura and now Sae, I can’t help but go to all these ‘what if’s. What if I never got that app? What if I never summoned Medea? What if I never went to the Metaverse? What if I never went to Shujin?” Suzui hugged her arms as her voice became weaker. “Would I still stand up to Kamoshida? Would I have still met all my friends? Would the Phantom Thieves still exist? Would Ann still be alive?” Suzui began to tremble slightly, as she practically whispered the next question. “Would I still…be alive?”

Goro stared at the girl before him, his sudden alertness now completely gone, shock now taking its place. He honestly didn’t know how to respond to something like this. Sure, he and Akira would give contemplative “what if” scenarios to each other from time to time, but they rarely went this deep.

“Sometimes…I dream about those ‘what if’s.” Suzui continued. “The most common one is…not one I like talking about.”

“It might help if you do.” Goro offered, seeing a point where he could hit gold.

Suzui stayed silent for little bit, a contemplative look on her face again, before she let out another sigh.

“It’s what might have happened if Ann and I never went to the Metaverse…” The girl began, her eyes dim more as she remembers the dream. “I’m standing on the school roof, on the other side of the fence…I don’t know what happened to make me do this, or I don’t want to remember, but…I jump…” Suzui pauses for a minute, building the courage to continue. “I’m still alive, but…I’m on a medical caot…Ann is crying above me, asking me why…I don’t know what I say to her, but it’s related to Kamoshida…And then I pass out…But the strangest thing about the dream isn’t that I remember all of it, or that I can still feel the pain from the fall, but…” Suzui gives a brief glance at Akira through the kitchen window, who is still sleeping soundly on his futon, and Goro finds his action strange until he hears Suzui’s next sentence. “It’s that Kurusu is there, watching from the crowd, next to Ryuji…”

Goro’s open hands turn into fists. What? Why would Akira be there? Akira went to Kosei with Goro, why would Akira be in Suzui’s dream attending Shujin? Why would he be in Suzui’s dream at all? It made his blood boil.

Goro shook his head and crossed his arms to rid his irrational and angry thoughts, before slipping his Detective Prince mask back on. He couldn’t blow their cover, not when they’re so close to the end.

“I see…I’m sorry for all the stress that’s been put upon you lately, Suzui. And I’m glad that you are here.” Goro says with his fake, honey coated, consoling voice he uses for victims who have lost someone to one of his mental shutdowns.

Suzui turns to him with a weak, but genuine smile and gives him a nod.

“Thank you, Akechi…That means a lot right now…” Suzui said.

“Did talking about it help?” Goro asked.

Suzui nodded again and finished her glass of water before putting it in the sink next to Goro’s.

“It did. Thank you for listening to me. I think I’m going to go back to bed now. Goodnight.” Suzui finished off before walking back out of the kitchen and into Ann’s room where the girls slept.

Goro stood in the kitchen for while longer, his thoughts still stuck on that line about Akira being amongst the students of Shujin in Suzui’s dream. Such a concept was unthinkable to Goro, impossible even, and just the passing thought of it made his blood boil with rage. He tried using this chance to see what made Suzui tick, what shook her the most, and instead he was the one getting affected by the mere mention of Akira attending Shujin of all places.

Goro stayed in the kitchen until he was calm enough to leave, before heading back to his futon. He was still angry, but not enough that it would control him. The brunette sighed as he slipped back under the covers. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, was he?

113 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

2K notes · View notes

wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

A Certain Romance (4/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: mentions to past abusive relationship, nothing too explicit, though

A/N: some emotional bonding✨ enjoy babes

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Bucky presses the little button on the side of his phone knowing the dead battery won’t allow it to turn on. He makes his way up the stairs to your apartment - the elevator is always broken - and hopes you’re home to offer him a charger.

He was getting a few groceries in your area when his phone died, the only place where his list was kept, and had no other choice but to leave and go back later. A curse with technology; a paper list would never run out of battery, he thinks.

He knocks on your door three times and he can hear the low sizzling of something, signaling your presence inside. It takes you a minute to come to the door, though. Longer than the amount of time for you to change your clothes or turn something off, no, it seemed to him like you were waiting to see if he’d leave.

Do you have someone over? Another guy? Are you expecting someone else you don’t want to see? Is it him you don’t want to see? He thinks he’d rather you tell him to his face if that’s the case.

It’s been about a month and a half since you’ve started “dating.” The two of you have started hanging out more frequently, relying less on when Sam asks about what the two of you are doing and going more based on when you genuinely want to see each other. In a friendly manner, of course.

After he knocks a second time is when he hears a quiet shuffling on the other side approach closer and closer to the door. A lock turns and you finally open up, Bucky meeting your slightly puffy and red-tinted eyes.

“Hey.” You sighed before turning around and walking back to the kitchen.

“Hi.” He starts.

You were clearly crying. While Bucky would call the two of you good friends at this point - as well as fake lovers - he’s not sure if he’s in a position to pry about what’s wrong with you. Should he ignore it? Not bring too much attention to your obvious emotions? Bring all the attention to it and try to fix whatever the problem is?

“I, uhh, my phone died and I was in the area, so I wanted to ask if I could borrow a charger?” He starts. Maybe introducing a topic that has nothing to do with whatever is causing you to feel this way will help.

“Coffee table.” Is your curt response.

He takes the minute it takes him to plug his phone into the wall and set it on the coffee table to think of how he can go about this.

“You okay? Actually, don’t answer that - bad question. Clearly you’re not okay…” He tries, quickly shutting himself up when you sigh and slump a bit in front of the stove.

“What are you making?” He slowly walks over to where you are, a pan in front of you on one of the burners.

“Apple and brie mini sandwiches.” You say. More words, same sad tone. Still progress.

“Want me to take over and you can chill out on the couch?” He offers quietly.

“No. I - I want to keep myself busy.”

Progress.

“Okay. Anything I can do to help?”

You let out a shaky breath. His eyes focus on your face as tears gather around the rims of your eyes and you bite down on your bottom lip. A tear drops from your left eye and your hand quickly reaches to brush it away, as though Bucky didn’t already see it.

“Um, can you set up a couple of plates on the table?” You ask, voice strained.

He nods and moves towards your cupboard, setting the table up wordlessly.

The two of you remain silent as he fiddles with the napkins on the table and you finish up browning the bread of the sandwiches. He finally hears the click of the stove turning off and you bring the pan to the table, setting it on top of a piece of cork.

You serve him two sandwiches and yourself one and finally sit down next to him, letting out another sigh.

“I thought I saw my ex today at the market. And it took the entire time I was running back to my apartment in fear to remember that he’s in jail. Four states away.”

He looks over at you and realizes that the look in your eyes he thought was sadness isn't sadness at all. It’s exhaustion. A look he wore himself very often in his days of hiding, days of constantly looking over his shoulder until his worst nightmare came true and he was caught.

Paranoia is something he knows too well and it hurts him to see you suffering from it too. He remembers the brief mention of your ex from your first date together; how he beat the shit out of you. And he imagines he did a lot more than that if it means he’s in prison.

A humorless laugh falls from your lips, “And now I need groceries but I’m too tired and embarrassed to go back. The cashier probably thought I was crazy.” You pick at the crust on the bread with your fingers and Bucky gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“Eat before it gets cold.” You tell him, picking up your own sandwich and taking a bite, Bucky doing the same after another moment of looking at you.

Gooey brie and crisp sliced apples go great with buttery, toasted french bread, Bucky learns.

“Do you want to help me clean the apartment?” You ask him as you follow him to the sink where he washes off the plates and the pan you used.

“... Your apartment is spotless.” He tells you.

“I know. I cleaned it two days ago. But I like to clean when I have bad days, and you’re already here.”

He grabs the sponge and wipes down the stove, glancing over at you.

“I’d be happy to help you clean. Where do you want me to start?”

He planned on getting his own groceries today, but found himself on his knees slipping his arm as far as it can go under your dresser. I’m going to buy her one of those adjustable Swiffers for her birthday this year, he thinks. After collecting all the dust onto the rag, he tosses it into the pile with the few other dirty rags and glances over his shoulder to look at you.

Down the hallway, you wipe down all the frames on the wall one by one. He hears sniffles every once in a while, but keeps cleaning.

“Alright, I got all the low places and all the high places for you.” He walks over to you down the hallway. “What do you have next for me?”

“Nothing, we can stop for a bit.”

He’s gotten better at reading people. Through getting closer with Sam, through therapy, through becoming a more participating citizen in society. And through getting to know you. He can read you, and he can tell you’re holding something back.

“Anything else you wanna do? Anything I can do?”

“What’s your zodiac again? You’re very caring, you know that?”

“I’m a Pisces and you're deflecting.” He steps closer to you now, eyes less puffy from when he first saw you this afternoon, but tiredness radiating through them. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” He encourages quieter.

“Can we… cuddle? For a little bit?” You ask.

This is the first time Bucky’s ever seen you look so fragile. Not on that first date where you thought he was going to stand you up or when you told him about your ex. Not when you both discussed your deepest secrets on your couch. Not even earlier when you explained why you’ve been crying today. A timorous woman stands before him, now.

“Absolutely, doll. Where, on the couch? Wherever you want.” He tells you softly, seeing a bit of tension leave your shoulders as you gently bring him to the couch to sit, as though you were expecting him to say no.

He’d always used to make fun of Steve when talking about Peggy. Always teasing him as a brother would when the lovey-dovey talk would come out. But this is the very first time he’s ever understood a single thing he was talking about.

You’ll find someone, and they’ll fit you like a puzzle piece. You’ll mold to each other perfectly, and it’ll scare the hell outta ‘ya.

He’s propped up against the arm rest, one leg straightened out on the couch and the other planted on the floor. His arms are around you as you’re sandwiched between his side and the back of your couch. Your hands rest gently along his stomach, head tucked under his chin. A knee hooks around the leg that’s straightened on the couch, the other stretched on the remaining area of the cushions.

Like a puzzle piece.

You’re warm and you’re making him feel warm, both on the inside and the outside. He feels the way he did when he first pecked Barbara Albram on the mouth in grade school. Or when he first sat on a girl’s bed in her room when he was a teenager.

He feels like he has a crush.

“Do you know what love languages are?” You ask after a few minutes of silence. You’re both warm against each other, no blanket needed in the small space. He can feel your body much more relaxed under his hands and the permanent strain in your throat has disappeared.

“No. Sounds nice.”

“It’s the way you express and experience love, either with a romantic partner, a friend, family, that sort of thing. There’s five.”

“What are they?”

“Words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and gifts.”

He hums, an arm absentmindedly trailing up and down your back.

“I’m not sure what mine is.” He says, thinking back to every relationship he’s ever had, both romantic and not.

“You can be a mix of them. I think you like to express love through acts of service. You did just help me clean half the apartment. And when you told me about helping Sam and Sarah with the boat.” You mention.

“What’s yours?”

“Physical touch. But he kind of fucked that up for me, though.” You scoff.

“I used to love holding hands, hugging, kissing. Not just with him, with everyone. I felt like I had so much love to give and now I have nowhere to put it. I wish he didn’t make me like that.” You confess.

“Only you are in control of that. He’s gone. And what he did was terrible. But it’s up to you to reclaim that. If you have a lot of love you want to give, give it. There’s no one that deserves that love in return more than you. You are worthy of all the love in the world.”

He stays with you on the couch until he feels your breathing slow a bit and your body relaxes against his, small snores and heavy breaths leaving your mouth as you finally rest.

He hears a buzz on the table and is reminded of the reason he came over in the first place. He carefully reaches over to the table and is glad that he’s able to reach without moving you around too much. He presses the button on the side to see a now fully-illuminated screen and a charged battery, as well as a text from Sam.

Double date friday night. Bring ur girl. I’m picking the place

He doesn’t let himself be upset at the fact that Sam’s bound to choose a place that requires him to wear a clown suit because he’s too caught up on it being a double date.

He hasn’t been on a double date since when he shipped out for the war. And times were very different then; he was very different. He’d be nervous even if he wasn’t fake dating you and was going with a real girlfriend.

Maybe I can cancel, tell him I’m busy. You know that won’t work though! You’ll reschedule over and over and over again until Sam just shows up out of the blue with his girlfriend, even worse if it’s an occasion where you tell Sam you are with her when you’re not. Bit the bullet, Barnes, it won’t kill you.

He glances down at your sleeping face, calm expression soothing his own nerves now that he’s replied with a text confirming both of your presences.

It’s only a double date, what’s the worst that can happen?

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel #famous last words

161 notes · View notes

and-knowing-is-half-the-battle · 3 years ago

Text

Treatment, Part I: Forming

FATWS!Bucky x Fem!Therapist reader

Length: 2K

Summary: Bucky has to return to court-appointed therapy.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, cursing, minors DNI, veiled mention to masturbation (m)

Photo source: buckysbarnes

Session 1

It took Bucky a long time to stop dreading therapy. After the damage had been done by Dr. Raynor and her punishing therapeutic style, it was nerve-wracking to consider trying again. He was surprised when he saw you. You looked so much less … stuffy than he expected. The nerves began to settle when you explained to him how court-appointed therapy was supposed to work, from an ethical standpoint.

“I only report whether you attend and whether I consider you a danger to others’ lives,” you reassured. “The rest is confidential. Between you and me alone,” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. This was reassuring, but didn’t soothe his deeper seated distrust.

The first session was just you asking questions to get to know his history and his life. Being as observant as he was, he noticed how careful you were with your words. Intentionally soft.

“Don’t you know most of this already? I’m not exactly some guy off the street,” he complained half-way through, his arm over the couch as if to purposefully convey relaxation, despite his leg bouncing constantly.

“It’s important to me to hear it from your point of view, not the media’s,” you reassured. “Do you need a break? I know this is a lot to go over,”

“No, I’ll keep going. Better to get it all over with,”

When the session ended, you thanked him for being so open and willing. You said that you felt hopeful that your work together would benefit him.

Session 2

“I’m so glad to see you again. I’ve really been thinking about all you said and have some ideas about what we could focus on, but I want to hear about what you think is most important or most urgent,” You smiled warmly.

She’s been thinking about me? He thought to himself, still sizing you up. Your smile seemed genuine, but maybe it was just your job.

“I think I’m a hot mess, doc,” he said with his signature tight-lipped smile, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Let me hear your ideas,”

“As a reminder, I’m not a doctor. You can call me y/n, if you’d like. I was thinking we might want to start with the guilt. It seems to be the thing that eats at you the most,” His steel eyes met yours for just a second before flicking away. He felt a little too vulnerable, having you read him so well. He thought he had done a good job of just giving the facts.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” he mumbled, aware of how he sounded like an angsty teenager.

“Only if you want to. This is your treatment,” You could sense his discomfort, and wanted to emphasize that he was in control. So many people had taken that from him and you refused to be one of them.

Session 3

Now that his goals were established, it was time for the part he hated. Talking about his day-to-day life. And he was not one to hide his displeasure.

“How is talking about this stuff going to fix me, doc? It just feels so … pointless,” he grumbled, getting up to pace in agitation.

“I appreciate you trying even though it feels pointless. Most people find it helpful to work on how the past is impacting them now. Some shit sticks to you, and some doesn’t. And you don’t need to be fixed.” Her last statement came out with a surprising amount of authority. He stopped pacing to look out her office window, one arm leaned against the frame, finding solace in watching the cars and people go by below.

“Sure I don’t,” he said quietly, the bitterness evident in his voice.

“Listen, I know it’s fucked up that other people are the ones who did this to you, but you’re the one that has to live with it. It’s unfair. But you deserve a life without guilt. And you won’t get it unless you give it a shot,”

Session 4

He passed by the chairs and went straight to the window, feeling relief at the lack of eye contact. And the fact that you didn’t mention it didn’t go unnoticed.

“My week has been uneventful,” he reported, when you didn’t ask.

“I’m sure it wasn’t uneventful in your head,” you replied. “How often are you thinking about things that make you feel guilty?”

“Not too often,” he lied.

“Really?” you said playfully. “It’s nice to imagine, isn’t it? Having a day where you don’t constantly think about it?”

You saw right through him again. But not in a “you can’t escape from me,” way, like Dr. Raynor. More in a “I see you and your pain” way.

“It is. But I don’t deserve it,” he gambled, regretting it as soon as it was out of his mouth. Here it comes. The false reassurances.

“I know it seems that way to you. I wish you could see yourself from the outside. You’re much more forgivable than you think,” He blinked in surprise. That actually seemed genuine. “I would forgive you even if you hadn’t been controlled by someone else.”

What the hell?! He spun around to face her, despite himself. There you sat, the picture of calm, with an open smile on your face. He closed his mouth when he realized it was hanging open.

“Everyone is allowed to have a change of heart, don’t you think?”

Session 5

“So why do I feel the need to make it up to the people I’ve hurt?” he asked, fogging the window with his frustrated huff of breath.

“Because, despite what you show the world, you are a kind-hearted person.” You had started keeping vigil at the other window on the opposite side of your large desk. “Of course you want to ease pain. You know how it feels.” He had that feeling of being seen again, but maybe this time it didn’t feel so invasive. “But I’d love to see you do it out of only empathy, instead of to earn your worth.” He risked a glance at you then. You stayed staring out the window, a soft melancholy look on your face.

“I’m not sure I know how,” he said frankly.

“Think of an infant. Do they need to earn their worth? Do something to make up to their parents that they exist?”

“Of course not,”

“So part of you understands that worth isn’t earned. It just is,”

That statement echoed in his head all week. When he went to the corner market. When he took out the trash. How odd it was to be so impacted by a person that he knew nothing about. To possibly, even, trust them.

Session 6

“When will you give yourself permission to stop this?”

“Stop what?”

“Punishing yourself. It’s woven into everything you do. It has to be exhausting. Aren’t you tired, Bucky? Oh, sorry. James just feels so formal. Is it ok that I call you Bucky?”

“Bucky is fine. And you’re right, I am really tired.”

“Life is tiring enough without adding this awful layer of shit on top, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it is,” he said, chuckling. He was starting to like how you spoke. Just… real. Not sugar-coated.

“I’m going to challenge you, then. I think we’ve known each other long enough by now. Tell me that you don’t need to punish yourself all the time.” He could feel your eyes on him as he pretended to look out the window, not really seeing anything. He closed his eyes. Swallowed.

“I don’t need to punish myself all the time,” he said quietly. Almost a whisper.

“See, I left it open with ‘all the time.’ That way you can do it a little. Don’t want to be unrealistic,” you joked with him.

“Oh it would be impossible otherwise,” he quipped, trying to hide a smile.

Session 7

“I actually went a full hour without beating myself up,” he announced with overacted pride.

“Whaaaaaat? I’m so proud of you!” you beamed and he found himself actually feeling warm from your gaze. Am I blushing?

“But really, I’ve noticed times where I almost... forget to feel guilty?”

“That really shows progress, Bucky. How does it feel?”

“...light. Like a literal weight is off my shoulders, for just that little bit. I want to thank you, doc. I never thought it would be possible.”

“Bucky, this is huge. And you did it. I’m just here for the ride. I’m excited to see what you do next!” He turned away at your praise, certain he was blushing this time. He was actually starting to envision a future for himself. He couldn’t help himself from thinking that Steve would be proud, too.

Session 8

He had started to notice you. Like, really notice you. He liked the way you moved. The curve of your lips. The shine in your eyes when he allowed them to meet his. Was this fake? Like, just an effect from the therapy or something?

One day, you inadvertently made it worse.

“It’s like that tree out there. Here -” you moved over to his window, pointing to be sure he saw what you meant, your shoulder brushing against his for a moment. “That one. Do you see how it had to grow to the side? Something must have gotten in the way. A physical barrier, disease, lack of resources, who knows. But it knew instinctively what to do. It kept growing, getting stronger. And now it’s the kids’ favorite place to sit. Isn’t that beautiful? Something that people might have judged it for actually makes it ideal. Flawless in its imperfection.” You gazed at the tree with naked adoration. You were so loving. Saw the beauty in everything.

Even him.

____________

You turned on the lights to your apartment, weary after a long day. You put your things in their place, turning on the shower to let it heat up as you stripped. You sighed as the warm water soothed your body, smiling at your favorite part of the day. As you smoothed your hands through your hair, you processed everything that had happened.

Rachel had finally decided to leave her partner after months of ambivalence, which came as a huge relief for her. Charles was still struggling with how to set boundaries with his mother, but seemed to be making progress. Carly was on day 8 of sobriety, and was already starting to look better. And Bucky …

You were careful with your thoughts as you played the session back in your mind. You had noticed an attraction right away, but kept it at bay, making sure you were doing adequate self-care so you weren't tempted. You were honestly so happy for him. It was nice seeing him smile more genuinely, relax his shoulders a bit. So many people had hurt him (fucking bastards). It must have been so hard for him to let his guard down.

When you were clean and dry, you slipped into your sheets, letting yourself sink into the mattress. You tried your best to clear any unethical thoughts from your head as you settled down to sleep. But your dreams had other plans.

Session 9

“Then what is it that makes you so self-conscious about your arm?”

“I’m not sure, doc. I guess because of how people react when they see it. They know who I am. What I’ve done,”

“I know we’ve been working on how to handle the judgment of other people. This is something that is private for you. Intimate. You will always have the choice about who you show it to. If your gut tells you that someone will have a bad reaction, then trust that. Protect yourself.”

You still surprised him with how you saw things. On some level, he still expected a lecture about how he needs to change his thinking or “get over it.” But it never came with you. He found himself more and more curious about your life. Your history. But it wasn’t appropriate to ask, so he just swallowed down the questions.

It also wasn’t appropriate for him to think about you late at night, when he couldn’t sleep. When his body was restless and warm. When his hand crept beneath the blanket.

Part II

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n

72 notes · View notes

shewholovestoread · 2 years ago

Note

Now that production is underway on season 3, do you have a wishlist/desires/hopes and dreams for Gen Q? Anything from completely plausible and you’d be shocked if it DIDNT happen to “i want this but the writers would never”

I've learned to temper my expectations when it comes to shows/series.. Especially since we've seen inconsistencies going from season 1 to 2 (which is strange but not entirely unheard of)

Having said that, I guess I'm just hoping that we don't get manufactured drama where it isn't necessary (I'm looking at Gigi and Dani) and now that I've had a few months to think on it, I think it's pretty likely that the writers/showrunner will throw some unnecessary drama.

Wishlist/Desires/Hopes:

Bette gets therapy, she desperately needs it.

Bette and Tina resolution: I hope that Bette and Tina can figure out what they truly want from each other because this constant back-and-forth isn't healthy for either of them and can't be fun for Angie

Dani breaking free of her father's toxic influence: I think this is pretty likely to happen considering how the previous season ended but it'll be interesting to see how the show addresses it.

Gigi as more than a love interest: Gigi is probably one of the most popular character on the show and I want to see things from her perspective. We see other characters' POV when it comes to Gigi but rarely get her POV and that needs to change. I love Dani and Gigi together but I want to know more about Gigi beyond her romantic relationships.

Finley gets the help she needs: This has been a long time coming. Her drinking being a problem is something we see as early as season 1 and things haven't gotten better. She needs rehab and I hope she stays and gets healthy.

Finley and Sophie need to take a break: I'll be honest, I don't like Sophie, I didn't like her in the beginning and that hasn't changed. She's not great at communicating, only too happy to get on her high-horse and make the other person in the relationship feel like shit. I don't think Finley and Sophie are ready to be with each other and I'd rather have Finley focus on her recovery than get distracted by Sophie.

Bette and Dani patch up: One of the best dynamics in season 1 was Bette and Dani and their relationship. It was heartwarming to see Bette's genuine regard for Dani in both seasons 1 and 2 and Dani to have a friend in Bette who's just that, a friend, a mentor. I hope that Bette can pull her head out of her ass and she and Dani actually patch up.. (I just hope that they don't start dating, Bette has a horrible track record and that's the last thing Dani needs)

Dani and Gigi actually doing well: I just want to continue seeing Dani and Gigi grow individually and together. I loved their dynamic in season 2 and I hope we see their relationship solidify into something deeper. But I think it's highly likely that there will be at least some drama between these 2 (and not the kind the fans want) to make the show more "exciting". I'm expecting at least a small break between them or Dani shutting Gigi out..

Tom and Alice: These two are cute but if that was an engagement ring that Alice found in his bag, the dude is moving waaaaay too fast. Maybe hold your horses a little. I think the ring will freak Alice out and prompt her to bail on him. It's way too soon and I think Alice needs time to settle into the relationship without the pressure of "do I want to marry this man?"

Shane and Tess: I don't see either of them leave Los Angeles. But for the sake of drama, I think the writers/showrunner will make it seem like Shane is leaving but then she won't.

So this is what I think might happen in season 3. I'm trying very hard to temper my hopes... But the more important question is: Do I want to watch each episode as it comes out or wait for the whole season be out and then binge it. On the one hand, it'll be exciting to see the season slowly unfold and analyse and predict what will happen the following week. On the other hand, bingeing it all in one go means that I won't have to endure the agony of waiting a whole week.. Any suggestions?

#the l word #the l word generation q #the l word generation q season 3 #the l word generation q s03 #tlwgq s03 #gigi ghorbani #gigi x dani #shane mccutcheon #bette porter #tina kennard #tess van de berg #dani nuñez #alice pieszecki #sarah finley #sophie suarez #season 3 predictions

18 notes · View notes

hacash · 3 years ago

Text

Ted Lasso 2x02 thoughts

Even though they didn’t have many scenes together, Rebecca and Ted’s conversation about Absolutely Not Needing Therapy was heart-breakingly good. Please get these folks on the couch by the end of the season!

Oh God what happened to Ted’s father?! We keep on having little snippets of insight that indicates his childhood wasn’t all sunshine and roses, and yet from his references to his parents it feels like he did love them enough to remember them fondly. I have a horrible feeling that ‘he was harder on himself than he ever was on me’ suggests some sort of addiction or possibly even suicide attempt, but we’ll have to wait and see. (And the fact that Ted’s driving impulse to bring Jamie back wasn’t ‘he’s a good player’ but ‘he has a shit dad’ speaks volumes.)

I love these little snippets of Silly!Rebecca we’re getting: joking with Higgins and (in my mind) paying Sharon back for the temerity of not adoring Ted’s biscuits by making her welcome gift be bottled water.

Roy Kent loving white orchids and stanning li’l Kokoruda is something I’m here for. Also if Roy was a football pundit I would actually watch football shows on the TV, just saying.

Last week’s ep where Dani was seen waking up with two beautiful women felt like a bit of a throwaway gag just to remind us that footballers can totally get it - so I quite like that that was balanced out by Roy eating out Keeley while she watches his farewell speech. Whattaman whattaman.

Also thank you to every single person in that writers’ room for not making female masturbation a big deal.

Seeing more of Sharon and getting more insight into her character made me smile - it feels like her aim is to present herself as a 100% professional at first to make sure she’s taken seriously (you can only imagine that as a black woman she’s had to work twice as hard to be respected in the sports industry) but I like the little flickers of humour in her and the insight we’re getting into her character.

‘Old people are so wise. They’re like tall Yodas.’ However much I may want to throttle Jamie, I can’t actively wish him off the screen, not when Phil Dunster delivers lines like that.

I knew that the reality TV foray had to be something related to his dad, given that to a hyper-masculine character a romance-based reality tv show would be considered the ‘soft option’.

I’m also really glad Jamie’s taking steps to improve his life - seeking out Keeley was a nice touch - but also that they’re not just having him come back to the club and be welcomed in with open arms. The message that if you’re a complete jackass it’s good to turn your life around around and yet not everyone is going to be bending over backwards to help you do it is a really important one.

SAM. Everything about that scene - from the scriptwriters letting the ‘little ray of sunshine’ one actually be angry, to Ted letting Sam say his piece rather than straight away announce Jamie wasn’t coming back because he needed to vent, to us being reminded that Jamie’s dickbaggery had genuine consequences on the team, to Sam requesting punishment laps because he felt bad about yelling at Ted - was sheer perfection.

Little sidenote: I loved that when Sam mouthed off at Ted Isaac’s the one who snapped back at him. I suspect Sam’s going to end up being team captain by the end of the show, but I do love Isaac ‘Rolos’ McAdoo so it’s nice that the show isn’t just using him as a placeholder - we get to see him stepping up and actually being a captain.

Another little underrated moment: while it might be because only a few of the team are speaking cast members, I thought it was interesting that it’s Jamie’s former supporters Colin and Isaac who we see upset that Jamie’s returning. It shows just how much the team’s come together that even these guys don’t want him back.

I know everyone’s worried about Nate’s sudden abrasiveness but I think we get a little insight into it when Higgins’ new office change is announced, seemingly without Ted and Beard consulting Nate about it. There’s a moment when he’s clearly taken aback and even a little hurt that no-one’s actually asked him, and I wonder if that’s where his sharpness originates - throwing your weight around because you don’t want to be put back into that position of feeling powerless and insignificant. Like, I want our old Nate back but I also get where this arc is coming from and I think it’s a totally realistic development.

(I know it’s an ask but I’d really like to see Jamie, Isaac and Colin apologise properly to Nate for hassling him last season.)

(Also I love how we saw a little of the former dorky Nate when he and Higgins utterly failed to do a highfive. I’m still holding out hope for return of the patented Nate Strut!)

I am so excited that the next episode description mentions ‘A player’s return is not welcomed by the team’; because a: I am always here for redemption arcs being something you work hard for, and b: I am always here for more Richmond FC shenanigans.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers

67 notes · View notes

greengrayeyeswrites · 3 years ago

Text

shit-faced in love (chapter five)

Title: shit-faced in love

Pairing: Corpse Husband x OC (fem!youtuber!reader)

Word Count: 1,158

Warnings: Mental Health/Mental Illnesses are a big topic in this story. Mentions of depression, bpd and other mental illnesses. Angst, Fluff.

Note: This may be a Corpse x OC story but feel free to insert yourself into the main girls role. If Corpse ever announces that he doesn’t like fanfics about him, I’ll delete this.

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6

Author’s Note: Hello guys! I am very, very sorry that I didn’t update this any sooner. I’ve had a lot of troubles with my mental health lately, especially my bpd acting up and making me feel so worthless I wanted to punch myself in the face with a chair... But I thought that I need to get my shit back together and post a new chapter. I am really sorry about the delay. All these likes I am getting on a story that I mainly write for myself is overwhelming... so a massive thank you!

Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY CORPSE!

— — —

Imogen ended up being MIA for two whole days. She didn’t update her Twitter after cancelling the stream and didn’t upload anything on her Instagram story and her feed.

The day after her bad mood swing she stayed at home and Baylee came over. The two girls were spending the day on the couch watching silly old-school romcoms; Buddy sitting in between them in case Imogen needed him.

They were watching movie after movie, falling asleep in between and Imogen felt bad for Baylee. She apologized for being so unmotivated, boring and weird today but Baylee quickly shook her head and told her that it was okay.

Imogen couldn’t believe how happy she was to have Baylee as her friend, but since she was shifting from black to white thinking and back to black, she couldn’t really feel the happiness she knew existed somewhere.

All she felt was emptiness and sadness. The episode lasted four whole hours and Imogen fell asleep crying in the middle of it.

On her final day in Houston, Imogen and Baylee decided to go shopping and Imogen wanted to spoil her best friend. She got her a new computer and a new phone—which Baylee couldn’t quite believe. But Imogen was persistent and wanted her to keep the things.

Imogen then rented a beautiful NCT green colored Jeep Wrangler; which the girls immediately tried out when they were driving to the Space Center Houston for their last day.

„You almost sounded like MrBeast, when you gave me the phone and Macbook“ Baylee chuckled, as the girls looked for a parking lot in front of the Space Center. „I mean I’m meeting him and the crew next week for the first time, so I have to practice“, Imogen grinned, feeling way happier then a few days back.

„D’you already know what you’re doing with them?“ Baylee asked, but Imogen shook her head, when her phone rang with a message notification.

„Would you mind?“ Imogen asked nodding towards her phone, that was peeking out of her totebag in front of Baylee’s feet. Buddy was lifting his head from the backseat, looking at his owner and her friend.

„You got a voice message from Corpse“ Baylee read the notification on the lock screen and Imogen gulped. „Would you mind playing it?“ The twenty-eight year old asked and Baylee nodded, unlocking Imogen’s phone and pressing play.

The first thing both girls could hear was shuffling in the background before Corpse’s deep voice rang in their ears. „Whaddup baby?“, he asked and a shiver went through Imogen’s body, while she maneuvered the car into a parking lot.

Baylee slapped her hand over her mouth, staring at Imogen in shock. Hearing his go-to phrase so close to her ears and so intimate was kinda scary. Baylee felt like she was eavesdropping.

„How are you feeling?“ Corpse asked, „We were kinda worried when you didn’t respond to the group chat. I know I go MIA as well but you usually told us what was wrong. Rae was worried and I was as well. Please text us soon, so we don’t have to worry anymore.“

A quiet breath left his lips and Imogen looked over to Baylee, who was still covering her mouth. „I hope you finish your MrBeast stuff soon. I want to meet you real quick!“ Corpse finished the message and the phone screen turned black.

„Oh my god“ Baylee let out and stared at Imogen. „I felt so bad for listening, Mo!“ She cried out and Imogen gulped. „I feel so bad for not telling them what happened. I know how worried they get when I don't text!“ Imogen shook her head.

„Here, here!“ Baylee pressed the phone into Imogen’s hands. „Text them now! Tell them how you’re feeling and what you’re up to today!“ Baylee turned around to Buddy.

„Buddy, I can’t believe I heard Corpse speak like that! He was genuinely worried!“ Imogen watched her best friend and shook her head.

She had to be honest. Hearing Corpse’s voice like that made her heart jump a little bit. What was he doing with her? She didn’t even know what he looked like, yet he made her heart do weird dancy-dances.

She knew Baylee was watching her, while she typed into her phone. She knew Baylee wanted to know what she wrote—and she would’ve told her, if she wouldn’t be so shy about it.

When the women came home this night, Baylee decided to crash over in Imogen’s AirBnB. They stayed up most of the night and talked about everything and nothing. They were talking about Baylee’s crush on her co-worker, that didn’t even notice her presence. They spoke about Imogen’s therapy and medication and how Buddy had helped her out of so many dark places already; and then, as the sun was about to rise again, they fell asleep.

— — —

They woke up to Buddy licking their faces, wagging with his tail only a few hours later. Baylee sat up and looked at Imogen, fighting her dog off her.

„You know what? I’m going to miss you.“ Imogen finally got Buddy off her and looked at Baylee. Tears filled her best friends eyes and Imogen looked at her. „Bay“, she whispered and crushed her best friend in a hug. „This week went by way too fast“ Baylee cried into Imogen’s shoulder. „I swear, before I go back to Ireland, I’ll take you on a vacy to Hawaii. So be prepared to take a few days off, once I’m done with my travel!“

Imogen started laughing and Baylee grinned. „Gotcha!“

After having a breakfast together, Baylee helped Imogen pack her stuff and load it into the Wrangler. Imogen was fastening Buddy in the backseat, when she closed the door behind her and hugged Baylee once more.

„Take care, Mo.“ Baylee said and squished Imogen’s cheeks. „I will.“ - „No, I’m serious. When you feel low or sad or empty , turn off the cameras and hold Buddy. Okay?“

Imogen smiled. „I will. Thank you, Bay.“ The girls hugged once more, Baylee clinging on to Imogen as if her life depends on it. „I just wish I could quit my retail job and follow you around, being your camera woman or something.“ Baylee sighed and Imogen looked at her.

Imogen’s brain buzzed. „Keep that in mind, Bay. Okay? I’d even pay you.“ Baylee looked at Imogen and the Irish lass grinned. „Whatever you say, big girl“ Baylee grinned and softly banged the side of the Wrangler.

„Go and take the NCTzen car through the states.“ Baylee grinned and stepped aside to her own car. Imogen grinned and climbed into the Wrangler.

„Good luck on these 1,270 miles!“ Balyee yelled, as Imogen turned on the engine. „Take breaks in between okay?“ Imogen nodded and started backing out of the driveway.

Baylee disappeared into the distance and a piece of Imogen’s heart broke, when she left Houston behind.

to be continued...

Taglist: @wineandionysus @chanbaeol @rexit-mo

#corpse husband #corpse husband fandom #corpse fandom #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband imagines #corpse #fanfiction #imagine #corpse x reader #corpse x oc #corpse x you #corpse x yn #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x oc #corpse husband x you #corpse huisband x yn

95 notes · View notes