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idontplaytrack · 8 months ago

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You Don’t Know Me

Capri Donahue x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, angst, fluff, mentions + descriptions of disordered eating due to anxiety, fear of choking

In which, reader is stubborn, but Capri was a thousand times worse. They fit perfectly like pieces of a puzzle but still seemed like they were fighting fire with fire

Ngl I wrote this for myself to give myself some closure for what I had to deal with while going through this crap I’m about to share below the cut— inspired by my own experience but not 100%. I ramble a lot & the formatting is terrible so before I fix it, ignore the mess🧍‍♀️ its also very unpolished but thought I’d share anyway

Monday. First day of the week- you felt right as rain. Happily, you got ready for school and drove to Capri’s to pick her up so that the two of you could head to school together. “Good morning!” Capri greeted you cheerfully, smooching you on the cheek when she got into the front with you.

“Hi.” You smiled, starting to drive away from her house.

For the past seven months, this has become the routine. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, you picked her up. Tuesdays and Thursdays, Capri picked you up. None of this was set in stone— or rather, verbally confirmed at all. It just happened and both of you went along with it. And it worked. Of course, on weekends however, it depended on what either of you would’ve planned.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Amazing, actually. Got enough.” You chuckled over your words.

The day zoomed by expectedly, without a hitch. After school, you went to Capri’s and spent the night. You had quite the restless sleep that night, feeling your head begin to hurt. Oh, boy. That wasn’t good.

The next day, though you woke up with a bit of a headache, but you pushed through— keeping it to yourself, though when Capri asked if you were okay. Capri being Capri, didn’t take your word for it and asked again. You insisted and she got pissed off. By lunchtime, the headache worsened, and you started to have a cough. “Still gonna tell me you’re okay?” Capri asks, her brows raised in suspicion.

You ignored her, biting into the dry sandwich on your lunch tray. She does the same, focusing her lunch instead of you. You looked ahead, your eyes losing focus trying to zone out and tune out the chatter of the cafeteria that was definitely worsening your mood and your headache. The school bell tolls eventually, you got rid of your tray and went your separate ways to your respective classes after lunch. You had calc while Capri had bio class— with Darby, who was actually your best friend in school.

You tried to drink more water, hoping it’d alleviate your pain, but it did not. You saw Capri again. And Darby, after calc, in gym class. The teacher made you all run laps as a warm up and admittedly, you felt like you could have passed out, thrown up or both. But you kept together until the last minute, you asked for permission to go to the restroom and just sat inside until it was time to change out of the attire. After that, you ditched. You got to Capri’s and drove your car back home. And once you got back home, you immediately crawled into bed and slept.

Capri obviously couldn’t find you at all, and what did she do? Complained to Darby. “I think she’s more stubborn than you are.” Darby scoffs. “How’s that helpful?”

“Since when did you ask for my help?”

“You’re her best friend- you can’t get through to her?”

“For what? She’s just sick and stubborn.”

“So I’m just supposed to let her ignore it until she faints?”

Darby laughs, “She’s clearly ditched school. Where do you think she’d go? We know she’s coming down with something. She’ll be fine, she knows what to do.”

“Yeah, everything but tell me she’s not feeling well. Is it so bad to have me take care of her?”

“Like you would tell her if you were sick.” Darby cackled.

“Not my point.”

“This is exactly my point. You’re both so damn stubborn but right now, it’s time for you push that aside and be…gentle with her. Once she’s not sick anymore, squabble all you want. If you push her, she’s just going to shove you back. But that’s not what she needs right now and you know it.”

“Damn, thanks.” Capri pondered over Darby’s words.

————

Capri went over to your house after school. Knowing you well enough, she knew you’d be in bed so she trudged upstairs immediately. There you were, wrapped under the covers and asleep. At least you were getting some rest, she thought.

She felt your forehead with the back of her hand, “You’re a little warm.” She was mumbling to herself but you still kinda stirred in your sleep anyway, turning away from her but still wrapped tightly in your blanket, though. Grabbing a face towel from your closet, she ran it under the tap, wrung it dry and folded it small enough so that she could place that on your forehead. Which was hard considering how you were almost sleeping on your side. After making sure that it would stay put, she retrieved the thermometer and carefully placed it in your ear so that she could figure out what your temperature was.

“Go away, I’m fine.” You mumbled in your sleep.

“No, you are not. Please stop fighting me on this. It’s okay to need help.” Capri sighs softly, taking a look at the reading before putting it back in the cupboard. When she returned, you were lying on your back, eyes barely open.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Capri bit the inside of her cheek, taking a deep breath, “I want to, okay? I don’t mind doing that. Just close your eyes and sleep- don’t let the towel fall off though.”

“It’s fucking cold.” You scoffed.

“Well, it’s either that method or the medication. Take your pick.” Admitting defeat but staying silent, you fell back asleep soon afterwards. Capri took this time to tidy up your room since she had nothing to do other than sit around and wait for you to wake up again. Not that there was much for her to actually tidy up either, but at least it kept her occupied for a bit.

Things were peaceful until it got to dinner. You refused to eat but she forced you. “I don’t want to.”

“You haven’t eaten anything since lunch and we know it.”

“Capri, I don’t know if you remember, but right now, whatever I try to eat or drink makes it feel like I’m getting water up my nose each time.” That was the most ridiculous sounding statement you’ve said all day but it was the truth. It was a problem that you were dealing with for the last month or so and doctor after doctor said nothing was wrong. Typical.

“The doctors said everything was normal, so can you try and eat something for god’s sake?” Capri inhales sharply, losing her patience towards the end. You looked at her, hurt as tears pricked at your eyes. Pursing your lips together, you got off the barstool and went into the backyard.

Capri knew she’d just fucked up, and usually you’d understand her frustration but being sick? You couldn’t think of anything.

She found you quickly, sitting down on the lounge chair next to yours. “I’m sorry.” She apologizes. You simply avoided her, going upstairs next. Capri huffs exasperatedly while you reentered the house. Her mind wanders back to two months ago at a party where the reason for your current struggle took place- you were choking on something and no one really noticed. You could’ve died that day if James didn’t happen to walk up to you to ask if you’d seen Darby anywhere. Where was Capri when it happened? She went to the bathroom and you just sat on the couch to have some snacks, but some asshole decided that it’d be funny to sneak up on you and scare you so that happened.

When Capri returned, you immediately started to bawl, asking to go home. She looked at James, confused and insanely worried. He told her, and she was dumbfounded. But she took you home and that was never brought up again.

Until recently, the issue with getting you to eat came up. Capri’s mind was racing, part of it worried to death about you, another thinking of what she could actually get you to eat— and how. She was harsh and that was a flaw of hers, which she has been trying to change.

You went back to bed that night, hungry and in tears but terrified to eat. Capri spent the night on the couch, wide awake and checking on you every so often. The next day, she decided to give it another shot. She made you plain oatmeal after a night of thinking- no chewing, no surprises, the consistency seemed safe. You stared at the bowl of goop, tempted and starving. But the fear and anxiety still won. You told Capri no again. And apologised for that, and last night. She doesn’t seem upset or angry, and she doesn’t yell or raise her voice.

“y/n, look at me.” She says. And you do, you locked eyes with her, then she continued speaking, “I’m gonna be right beside you, just in case- please try some oatmeal. Just a little bit. It’s plain, okay? No fruit, flavouring, anything.” You’ve never seen her like this, and it made you even more upset. You wanted to cry, but you wanted to eat something even more. You reached out to grab the spoon, and you feel Capri’s eyes on you but it didn’t bother you. You stuck the spoon in your mouth and just swallowed reflexively. The aforementioned sensation was felt, but you ignored that and kept eating.

After several weeks of this hell, Capri’s learnt what foods you were even willing to just take a bite of. And the answer was plain food. Actually plain- white bread, plain toast, plain yogurt, and plain oatmeal. Your parents washed their hands off you and called you crazy for it, but Capri understood— the image of how terrified you were was etched into her mind forever. The doctors say there was nothing wrong. Yes, physically. This was more of a mental block…the fear and anxiety of choking on whatever you were eating or drinking, and now for the past week, also the fear and anxiety of having food or drinks ‘going down the wrong way’. The incident made you a hypochondriac and you hated that. You hated that your life flipped upside down you could no longer enjoy the things you used to love. It made you feel incredibly isolated, too.

“You’re okay, baby. Just let your body do what it needs to do. You’re alright.” She says softly. Wordlessly, she got off the stool and went to get you something to drink. She was debating whether or not to play it safe and just give you water, or a smoothie which would be more filling. Capri went with the latter, warning you that she’d be using the blender so you didn’t get scared. This was arguably the most you’ve eaten since the incident and Capri was so, so proud. She knew how hard it was, for obvious reasons. Not to mentioned relieved.

She looked over her shoulder to see how you were doing. You were fine, sitting there and eating but looking a little zoned out. Which she expected since you were feeling under the weather. “Do you have a headache?” Capri asks while pouring the beverage into a glass, then another one for herself. You nod, swallowing a mouthful of the food. “I’m sorry, I can’t anymore.” You pushed the bowl away from you slightly.

“That’s okay, you did good.” She took it away, pushing the glass closer to you then sat back down. She feels your forehead, telling you that you felt warmer now. Regrettably, she suggested the medication for it and sent you into tears. So it was damage control time. Chiding herself internally for her decision, she held you in her embrace, kissing the top of your head. “We’ll stick to the towel, alright? I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. We’ll go get you the liquid kind tomorrow if you still need it.”

————

Several minutes later, you and Capri moved back up to your room. Your head felt like it was getting squeezed, and felt heavy. You felt hot yet was freezing at the same time. You were miserable and definitely needed someone with you and you were glad it was Capri.

You knew people feared her, some looked up to her and even worshipped her like royalty. All for different reasons, but you weren’t afraid of her like they were. That’s what Capri liked about you- your personalities were so similar, though yours was considerably more tamed. Especially in the aspect of being way too truthful. Conversations turned into squabbles and jabs at each other quite a bit, but you knew she loved you and you both were trying to get this habit to die. Laying on your back make your cough worse, and you didn’t feel too comfortable on your side so you got frustrated at climbed out of bed.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You decided.

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

The shower still felt way too cold for you and you got out of there, fast. Though it felt nice to not be sweaty. You noticed your sheets were changed, and Capri’s just walked into the room. “Are you okay?” She looked at you, hoping you’d be honest about it with her instead of trying to tough it out.

“My head really hurts.” You admit, “I’m fucking congested so my ears are hurting too, I’m coughing like crazy. And that shower, was hot but I was freezing.” She bit back a grin, “Babe, could we both just tell each other if we need some TLC, please?”

You sigh, “I’ll try. I’m just used to not asking for help and grew up learning that I should always be independent.”

“While being independent is a good thing, sometimes depending on someone when you’re down will do wonders.”

“You were right, the doctors were right, my parents are right- it’s all in my head and I need to get over it, but I just- please know I’m tryig.”

“I know you are- I see it but sometimes I still get bitchy which I’m trying to stop doing.”

“You’re the only one who’s believed me all this time since-”

Capri pulls you onto her lap, “Remember that- I’ll always be in your corner. Even when in moments where get bitchy. I want you to know and remember that I care though it may not seem like it at the time.”

Eventually, the cold got too much for you to bear even with a long sleeved top and long pants, so you returned to your cocoon of safety under the covers. “Thank you.” You told her groggily, flinching when she places the cold towel back on your forehead almost too quickly.

“Just rest.” She shushed you.

“You missed school today because of me.” You continued speaking.

“Doesn’t matter.” She assured, her hand on your cheek. “You need the rest, close your eyes and sleep on your side. It should help with the coughing.”

Every day since that night seemed like a fight, some days were worse than others but with Capri by your side, you knew you’d be okay. Slowly but surely.

#auli’i cravalho #capri donahue #darby and the dead #darby harper #riele downs #gxg #wlw #lgbtqia #queer #queer fic #wlw fluff #wlw angst #Spotify #sickfic

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toinfinitywinning · 10 months ago

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What you see & hear- or even if you can. Just a cover.

Open it? There’s no tellin’ the worm. But you bought the ticket. It’s your Day 1.

They’re gonna try to break you.

Yk every Day I wake up. And I’m scared of it. Don’t want to. And not b/c im warm in my bed snuggling w/ my feather duvet and rain, with the weight of a horse on my legs play pretending he’s a 3 lb Show shhnowzaa but b/c I’ve already, already lived it. And having been in a constant State of fight or flight, normal or abnormal, sometimes u can’t tell —I still feel bad. W/e differentiation you had to separate the two both ended up at the North Pole but you’ve at least got Santa.

So this means I’m confused all Day but I still want some of Michael’s Secret Stuff Gatorade (haterade) from “welcome to the space jam—alright.” 🎵. To get me through. A safe energy drink. And your body doesn’t ☊ anymore so the more you talk to yourself the saner. It’s just I’ve never had to fake I’m physically okay to be present so much. Physical sickness affects ur mind Health and if you already struggle w/ that my condolences b/c your leg hurts too.

It’s a nightmare never 1-upping to a dream of being without. Then some days it’s will hear a song or remember a Good time or just Start crying-faucet not included. No acute-reason onset. (We gotta find another word for trigger no joke). I only subconsciously wonder will today be better…Will I get better? And I don’t know why I continue to continue being somewhere inbtw positive and negative. All the sudden my mind is taxed and so are your paychecks and I’ve been up for 15 minutes not even thinking I was thinking b/c Truth is, when something becomes your reality for such a Long time, everything just runs together. You’re afraid to feel anything yet know if you don’t it’s not just your body ready to atrophy. Not Good. And it’s a sneaky lil’ mf.

I can’t Imagine the omnipresent (best word for constant I got) Pain people feel having been with Illness their whole lives. How differently their world is shaped. Pain, prolonged cynicism, Illness prolonged, disability prolonged, w/e u used to think about things is gone unless you’re born one of these ways. Now to be clear I was born this Way but not THIS Way don’t get it twisted. Some days I wonder what it would be like to swap around. W/e it is—This presence does not belong to God— but maybe its mere existence really does b/c we won’t have anyone to thank if things get better? And there’s no joy in the things we’ve hoped for and overcome? And everything always has an End result of some kind…Right? If that’s my endgame I can only look at some things very matter of fact-ly. But. Here we are. Pending. Loading. Accept All Cookies. Your Health for potential healing is At the mercy of literally a button click away from quality or lifesaving or changing Medicine or therapy. CAN YOU AFFORD TO STAY ALIVE? Be fired? Bankrupt-ed? Evicted? No college, no trade School, but you work ur butt off to provide but you’re still paid $7.25/hr as I was as head intramural supervisor at Georgetown College. 15 years ago. Not just that, exist, like eating, clothes to wear, some sort of roof. So you’re choosing between crappy and crappier. Literally no difference. How in the is someone even going to try to stay healthy?!

Thankfully I don’t have to worry as much about the material, which, its Stress alone induces more trauma and Anxiety, but I’d bet how we feel physically isn’t too different. All the sudden again in the subconscious where I am all the time I’m figuring and not truly present you really think existentially like how in not God’s name clearly did I get here? I fixed everything. But Life isn’t played by a claw that has never won anybody a teddy bear. I wouldn’t pin karma to me in itself but it sure makes you think.

None of this is about to make sense but it’s where my mind took me.

Think about what was happening in your Life before things changed. Before literally waking up one Morning and knowing that very second things had to change or I was headed toward death a lot faster than I thought until that God moment. I don’t have many of them that are that dramatic but nothing was clearer to me in that moment. And then that Damn bat and conspiracy crap of government population control. If anthrax was sprinkled in Amazon boxes we’d be extinct. But Pretty sure we know how to get rid of people without breaking a beaker or test tube and then turning on a fan just gifting particles. And Unraveling ALL of the many ways of healing I’d finally lived into. I was so close. To every Fk up id invited. And so asking why anymore seems vacant. Echoing. And my ears hurt. ATP I’m More so saying well, I’m not sure that strategy is going to work anymore. Where’s the ღ in Health. It’s lost it. How much are you worth? No, like write down a monetary number on a piece of paper, fold it and slide it across the desk. Insurance companies be like: I see your offer and I’ll raise your offer: have you tried dying yet? B/c you could save a lot of money that way. The money it will take to bury you might even be more deadly.

So The most defeating part is beginning the Day as it ends. When I think about that it’s just like how did I get here? I’m still stubborn about it but maybe regardless of w/e someone accomplishes there’s the reality you’re still living in an imperfect world where you can only control so many things. Even if u gain that control back all those traps R still available. So you can Imagine my surprise when there’s not enough OCD to Go around to control THIS. regardless of what we can have control over, do that, b/c the smaller victories become magnified and walking to the kitchen to take your Meds that may or may not be helping is like an 8-ball w/ only 8 options. Eenie meenie miney. Mo.

I don’t set out to cry or tear up in the videos I share. I’ve always been a cryer. I’ve been told I feel things more intensely so it hits different, does different. The direct quote will remain anonymous but the sentimental pack rat in me wrote it down ASAP. Like, a handwritten letter. You took TIME for me. The quote—It was several years ago and I almost can’t stand it b/c it’s me in whatever kind of Shell is available at the time.

[“people perceive me as an individual who has the kindest of all hearts, but who struggles with the realities of life given that kindness…Like how the tenderhearted feel the pains of the earth more intensely.”]

It’s so true. But if I can’t be real what Good’s that gonna do? For me it further affirms what I already am living. In Edgar’s scary A** pit or with the company of not one canary in the coal mine.

C’ya in the AM. 🫡

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callmebuttfatt · 2 years ago

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Sad, Beautiful, Tragic (Gojo Satoru x Y/N)

A/N: It's my first time writing a fic so pls be nice lmao. This is inspired by Taylor Swift's Sad, Beautiful, Tragic Comments are welcome pls especially grammar and punctuation bc english is not my main language and i wasn’t listening when my english teacher was teaching punctuation lmao Summary: Gojo Satoru remembered how you always wanted him to write a letter for you, but he's already too late

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The sound of rain in a lonely, cold midnight envelopes Gojo Satoru. He should be worried about the glistening big drops of water hitting his skin, but he’s more preoccupied by the long note inside his pocket that’s been there since the night he left you, fidgeting it in hopes that it would make all his thoughts go away.

“I have to feel it all,” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to feel the droplets on his face as he recalls how you secretly slip letters in his pocket before he wakes up.

His solitude was cut short when he heard someone call his name, sweet and loving as ever. The energy alone reminded him of his memories that he thought time erased.

His eyes locked on a familiar figure, feeling thousands of needles piercing his heart, as you closed the distance between the both of you. Thinking how simply staring at the eyes of someone can make you remember every ugly fights, every passionate lovemaking and fucking, every late night conversations, every hungry kiss, every hopeful laughter, every cries of pain…pain he caused you.

Everything came back to him, even the night you ever so desperately begged him to stay

“Satoru, What are you doing? You’re gonna get yourself sick,” You said as you put him under your umbrella with you, trying to shield him from the harsh weather.

It’s been a while since he heard someone so concerned for him. He may be the strongest, but that doesn’t mean he cannot feel hurt, envy, loneliness..

He tried to speak but it felt like there was a lump in his throat, forcing himself to make an unfamiliar noise that sounded like a cry for desperation.

His cerulean eyes stared at you, studying every piece of you as if he had only seen you in his dreams - and nightmares.

“I-I just..,”He cleared his throat and shook his head to snap himself back to reality, “Hey, I should be asking you that! Why are you outside? During midnight, too! Tsk tsk tsk, still so hard headed,” He teased.

“Should I be worried even if I have the strongest in front of me?” You said as you put your finger on your chin, trying to act like you’re thinking.

He let out a silent chuckle.

“If only you knew how weak I feel right now,” he thought to himself.

The mood shifted when he remembered something.

“Y/N” He stared at your eyes, before looking to the ground as he then again, fidgets the letter in his pocket, “I have something to give you”.

He handed a creased yellow paper, showing that it has been carelessly stored for a couple of months.

He sat his hips between his ankles, staring at the raindrops hitting the concrete ground of Tokyo as you read the long, handwritten note.

“Satoru…” You sighed.

Your voice made him stand up, trying to search for signs of the reaction he’s hoping he would get from you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist as you reached your hand to feel his handsome face, caressing his cheeks. Satoru closed the distance between your lips, hoping it would make it all go away.

All the hurt, the betrayal.

Oh, how Satoru wishes everything is back to how it was.

“You know it’s too late now,” You whispered as you turned your head to the side, cutting the longing moment between Satoru and you.

“We can’t fix this. Your words mean so little right now. I waited too long for you, hoping you’d come back. I don’t want us waking up in two lonely beds anymore. Let’s just let this go - The distance made me realize how bad of a timing it is for us,” You smiled, taking a step back just enough to make a point.

Satoru took a deep, shaky breath and nodded.

“It was nice to see you, Satoru.” You said as you closed your umbrella.

“It was nice to see you too, Y/N. I’m really sorry,” He smiled, taking his sweet time looking at your eyes, already feeling jealous of the next person who’s gonna fill them with happiness again.

You took one longing look at him, wishing it ended differently. But you know the pain was just too much for both of you right now.

“Maybe someday,” You thought, “When he’s ready”.

Satoru watched you walk away, his chest feeling heavy.

He once again tilted his head back, only this time, It’s not raining anymore but he can feel his eyes getting wet.

#gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #callmebuttfatt #yn x gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo x you

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jessikahathaway · 4 years ago

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Baby Talk - Part II

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)

You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.

Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.

Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.

Up and down and up and down.

But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.

It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.

So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.

It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.

Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.

Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.

You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.

Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?

Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...

But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?

FLASH.

BANG.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.

Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.

“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.

“I-I I’m sc-”

FLASH.

BANG.

You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.

‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.

“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.

“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.

Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.

Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.

Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.

The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.

Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.

“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.

Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.

“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.

“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.

“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.

“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.

“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.

“Okay, yeah!”

Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.

“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.

“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.

The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.

Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.

You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.

What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.

Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.

Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.

Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.

The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...

“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.

“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.

“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.

“Books,” both of them said quickly.

The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.

“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.

Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.

You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.

“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.

Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.

“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.

“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.

They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.

God, they had messed this whole day up.

“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

“Not including you,” Jimin explained.

“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.

“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.

“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.

“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.

“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.

“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.

“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.

However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.

“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.

“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.

“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.

You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.

However, you needed to get that under control.

This wasn’t your baby.

And that’s just how it was going to be.

Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.

“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.

Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.

Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.

Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.

You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.

Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.

It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.

Jimin was stunned.

You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.

Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.

“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.

“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.

“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.

“I did, yeah,” you answered.

“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.

Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.

Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.

You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...

Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.

The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.

“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.

“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.

Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.

“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.

“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.

“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.

“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.

“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.

Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.

Then, they held up their wrists.

A sun and a star.

You looked and saw it was all a matching set.

“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”

“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.

“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.

“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.

“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.

“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.

A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.

“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.

“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.

Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.

“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.

“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.

“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.

“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.

—

The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.

It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.

Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.

“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.

“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.

“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.

Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.

You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.

You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.

He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.

But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.

Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.

Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.

Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.

He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.

The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”

Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.

But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.

Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.

You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...

You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...

You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.

The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.

You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.

Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.

You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.

“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.

“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.

“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.

Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.

“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”

“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.

“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.

“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.

Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.

And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.

They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.

With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.

“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.

“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.

“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.

“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.

Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.

Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.

The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.

“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.

“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.

“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.

“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.

“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.

“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.

Even though the words felt hollow in the air.

“I guess,” Jungkook said.

“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...

Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.

It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.

The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.

“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.

Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”

You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.

Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

Soon, you were all at the clinic.

Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.

The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.

Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.

“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.

“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.

“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.

“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.

Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.

When no one had any, she proceeded.

“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.

You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.

Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.

“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.

“What?” Jimin said.

“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”

Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.

You were stunned.

Twins?

The first try?

Wow, you really did win the lottery.

“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.

“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.

“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.

“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.

“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.

You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.

“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”

You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.

Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.

“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.

You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.

“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.

“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.

You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.

Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...

You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.

Eventually, you were all set.

Except for the zipper on the back.

You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.

“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”

Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.

But the damage had been done.

Both men walked in your room.

Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.

You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.

“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.

“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.

“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.

“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.

Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.

Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...

Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.

“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.

Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.

“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.

“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.

“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.

“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.

“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.

“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.

“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

—

The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.

There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.

It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.

“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.

Namjoon noticed it first.

The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

This would need to be discussed...

Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.

When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.

“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.

“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.

“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.

“Like what?!” Jimin argued.

“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.

“What?” Jungkook coughed.

“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.

“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook broke first.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.

“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.

“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.

“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.

“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.

“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.

“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.

The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.

While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.

And Jungkook adored it.

He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.

But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.

“What?” Jimin asked.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.

Jimin nodded his head.

“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.

Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”

“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”

Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.

“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.

“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.

“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.

“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.

“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”

“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.

“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.

“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”

Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.

“What?”

“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.

“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.

“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.

“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.”

The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.

“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”

“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.

“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.

“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.

“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.

“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.

“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.

“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.

“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.

“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.

“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.

“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.

“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.

“I-I want-”

“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.

“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.

“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.

“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.

“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.

“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.

Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.

You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.

He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...

“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.

You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.

“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.

“You want some water?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.

“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.

“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.

“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.

“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.

“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.

“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.

“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.

“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.

“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”

“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.

“Y/N-”

“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.

You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.

“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.

“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.

“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.

“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.

You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.

Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.

“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.

“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.

“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.

Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.

“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.

“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.

“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.

“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.

“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.

“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.

“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.

“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.

“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.

“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.

“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.

“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.

“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.

“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.

“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.

“Then that’s what we’ll do...”

You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.

Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.

Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.

Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.

“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.

You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-

No!

No no no no no!

Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.

How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...

You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...

Hot breaths touching your ears...

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu

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slasherscream · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I don’t know if you write for Thomas Hewitt or Vincent Sinclair but if you do you could you please make some headcanons about them and the other slashers like if they got into a fight with their s/o and how it would go, what it would be about, and how they would make up with their s/o please? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to. But if you do then thank you so much!

fighting with the slashers

A/N: i do write for vincent (on a related note i also write for bo and maybe lester i haven’t tried him out yet)!

vincent sinclair

You didn’t stay put when Vincent told you to and you got hurt.

You hadn’t planned to leave. Until the sun started to go down and no one came back to the house to check up on you the way they so often do when there are visitors in town.

You are Ambrose’s second best kept secret. Alive because Vincent took one look at you and couldn’t bare to hurt you. And though Bo gripes about you he couldn’t tell Vincent no. Not when Bo saw the way Vincent held you behind him, head lowered but shoulders set, ready to actually fight him on something for once in their lives.

So you’re kept in the house when there are people around. Other than not being able to leave it’s your only real rule. Vincent wants you to have no part in the more grisly aspects of the town and Bo and Lester honor his wish.

But the town is dead silent and no one has come to check on you. Most times Lester even comes to stay with you like some sort of babysitter. It used to irritate you, despite your fondness for the youngest brother. Now without him there your hands shake, and your eyes wander, and your ears burn as if pumping extra blood there will make you hear better. But there’s nothing to be heard. No screams. No cries. No Bo shouting. No guns going off.

So you leave the house, searching for one of them. Instead you’re found by a survivor and held hostage in front of the twins.

You all stand still for a long while, the victim not knowing what to do and the boys unable to move due to the knife digging into your neck, already drawing blood.

Lester had been the one to save you, sneaking up behind your captor and stabbing them. You ran to Vincent on shaking legs and he gathered you into his arms, moving to take you back home. You could hear the screams of the man who’d almost killed you ringing through the streets behind you and shivered.

Vincent had cleaned your cut in silence and somehow had managed to barely touch you. Before you could blink he’d shut himself into his workshop and you were left alone until Bo came home and chewed you out.

You kept yourself busy cleaning and then prepared for bed, knowing it would be awhile before Vincent would come and join you. The sleep didn’t come easy as you were still shaken up, but eventually it came.

You woke in the middle of the night to an empty bed and realized that if you didn’t go to get him Vincent wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

You walk drowsily through Ambrose’s underbelly, the smoldering heat not doing you any favors, until you arrive at Vincent’s workshop where he’s hunched over his desk, unmoving.

Not wanting to startle him you call his name quietly and you see his head tilt in acknowledgement but he doesn’t turn to look at you.

Slowly you move until your front is resting against his back, even slower your arms encircle him and you kiss his shoulder, feeling guilty at the tension laying dormant in them. “I’m sorry, Vince. I was just worried about you so... so I left the house. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I won’t do it again.”

He turns and there’s a pause, and then he moves his hands, fluid but slow. They’re shaking despite how strong you know they are. He tells you how he can’t lose you. How he loves you. He asks you to promise him that next time you’ll listen and you do, and you mean it.

It’s only then that he pulls you into his lap and holds you tightly. You think he’s crying behind his mask but you just hold him back equally as tight and whisper I’m sorry against his steady pulse.

pelle

He doesn’t like the company you keep.

He has a plan. He has a plan to take you away from this strange, uncaring world that doesn’t deserve you. That doesn’t love you or care about you. If he sticks to the plan everything will be so easy.

But sometimes Pelle loves you too much to bite his tongue.

He can see it clearly, your perfect future where he takes care of you, and his family takes care of you, and you let them do it, and you’re happier for it; but you don’t live in that perfect future, you live in the frigid, imperfect present.

Here you stay up late in the night to help a friend finish a term paper when last week they didn’t even call when you were sick. You gave a classmate your umbrella to borrow a month ago, and today you come back shaking from the rain because they never bothered to return it.

A thousand little kindnesses that the world outside the Hårga spit on.

He knows that all these moments of careless apathy towards you will only strengthen the draw you’ll feel when you finally meet his family.

You have the heart of a Hårga and he knows that you’ll feel that connection.

Still, the way the outside world, the way your friends and family slight you at every turn, makes his blood run hot. He’s never felt anger like this before. It is all consuming and yet he must stomach it alone.

And so his tongue is careless sometimes. He asks in tones that he shouldn’t use with you “you’re going out with them again?” and “but didn’t they-?” and still he is angry. The words do not ease the feelings because they do not fix the problem.

Pelle must lead you into the arms of his family and their way of life. He cannot push you. But he doesn’t know how not to take care of you.

He wants to beat away the leeches and moths that cling to your light and whisk you away to home where the sun will warm you with its love.

Your fights are gentle, and so you might never refer to them as fights when people ask you if you ever argue with Pelle.

There is no yelling, or balled fists, or the animal sensation of fight or flight. He leads you to sit down with him and holds your face in his hands. Unthinkingly you mimic the gesture and he smiles at you lovingly. One kiss and he tells you that he doesn’t like your friends. Another and he says that you deserve better, deserve the world.

You try to get a word in edgewise, to deny the claims he makes, to tell him that they really do care about you, but the words are smothered by his soft lips. He kisses you until your brain goes somewhere loved and numb. He slips your coat off of your shoulders and pulls you close. He keeps you there until you forget that you had anywhere to be besides his arms.

You and Pelle don’t fight.

chucky and tiffany

Tiffany is used to Chucky being a piece of shit. You are not.

Upside to fighting with Chucky is that Tiffany is immediately on your side, even if you’re in the wrong (I’m joking it’s always Chucky’s fault.)

Downside is that the whole house is now up in fucking chaos.

chucky: tiff where are my fucking keys?

tiffany: in hell! why don’t you go and grab them?

You appreciate her fighting spirit but she’s really going in on y’all’s man.

Which is not to say that Chucky doesn’t deserve it. Because he does deserve it, but you know from personal experience that being on Tiffany’s bad side is scary.

Why are you and Chucky fighting? Chucky is an insensitive asshole, and even the toughest skin isn’t bullet proof.

The aftermath of whatever Chucky did is a lot of sullen silence from you; the sounds of a knife chopping a little too loudly in the kitchen from Tiff; and loud bits of huffing and puffing from Chucky as he stomps around the house.

At first he thinks he can just wait out your anger until you start missing him. It used to work with Tiffany all the time!

But this relationship involves three people. You’re not so quick to get desperately lonely, especially if Tiffany isn’t the partner you’re fighting with. Do you miss Chucky? Sure. Do you miss him enough to let him be an asshole just to get some cuddle time in on the couch? As if! Tiffany is the better cuddler anyway.

The man child is going to have to say sorry and mean it.

Of course this means that your relationship is going be sans-Chucky for at least a week.

Tiffany reaches the breaking point before Chucky does. Obviously more in-tune with your feelings she can tell how much the fight is getting to you and no one messes with her sweetheart! Not even Chucky.

You’re going to hear her delicately clearing her throat, look up from your phone, and find Tiffany holding Chucky at fucking knife point.

tiffany: do you have anything to say, chucky?

chucky, trying to decide if he’ll let tiffany kill him just to prove a point: ....

tiffany: i’ll start with your dick-

chucky: i’m sorry! are you fucking hAPPY?!

You’re gonna be like no!!! I do not accept the apology you gave me under extreme duress! At which point you turn over in bed and pull the covers over your head.

You’ll hear rapid-fire whispering and then the bed dips behind you. A knee presses into your back, and kisses are pressed carelessly to where your head should be beneath the covers. Then, finally, the quietest “I didn’t mean it, doll.” as he pulls the blanket back in order to look at your face.

You’re stopped dead by the softness on his face. By the softness he let’s you see, even if it’s only for a moment. It might not be the words I’m sorry but it sounds like them. It sounds like an I miss you, as well.

When you drop your phone and throw your arms around his neck, touching him for the first time in a week, Chucky sighs in relief.

Not ten seconds passes before Tiffany has thrown herself over the both of you, suffocating you in her loving embrace. Just like that, balance is restored in the Lee Ray-Valentine household. For now.

#vincent sinclair x reader #chucky x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #pelle x reader #tiffany valentine x reader x chucky #slasher x reader #charles lee ray x reader #bride of chucky #house of wax #not my first thing for vincent being sad adjifjd #the juxtaposition between vincent's part of this post and the poly tiff and chucky part??#fill.

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maijobi · 4 years ago

Text

back to you

dabi x reader

summary: when things don’t go well in your relationship, you find it best to end it...

a/n: it has a good ending I promise. I did kinda hurt myself writing this I don't even know why. but sad dabi really does make me feel things.

———————————————————————

your hands were in your hair, doing your best to not pull every strand out of your scalp. your eyes were closed and you were doing your best to calm yourself down, counting down from ten.

“dabi, we have had this conversation for over a hundred times. you can’t control me. and why can’t you just trust me for once?”, you said, finally opening your eyes and looking at dabi.

“fine”, he said clenching his jaw. “go. let all of those people see you. go. you know what, don’t come back tonight will you?”

“stop overreacting”, you said, breathing out heavily. “I'm sick and tired of you constantly telling me what to do. I'm your partner, not your child. I know my limits and I know what to look out for. and who are you to tell me to not come back tonight? this isn’t just your place. we live here with a bunch of losers, what makes you think you’re more special than them? what makes you think you overpower them? what makes you think you have more to say than us?”

he took a few steps closer to you and looked down at you with a wrinkled nose. “I just don’t like my partner going out where there are people that will look at them. I don’t like how you can’t keep your mouth shut around people and let them flirt with you. I can’t stand you going to places and not knowing your limit, when you claim you do.”

“just because I let people talk to me, doesn’t mean I'm letting them flirt with me?”, you confusedly said. “oh I apologize dabi. I apologize that I do not prefer to burn people to the ground when they give you a genuine smile. I apologize that I couldn’t become as great as you”, you sarcastically said while throwing your hands in the air and then dropping them. “do you hear how stupid you sound? we have this discussion almost every day, but I can’t seem to get some senses into you. I'm tired of this, dabi. I'm tired of having to explain myself every day when I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can’t talk to anyone before I have you breathing against my neck telling me to stay away from that person.”

“sweetheart, dollface, sugar”, he said with gritted teeth, taking steps closer to you and holding on of your hand and placing it over his heart. “don’t make this harder for the both of us and just don’t go outside will you?”

you pulled your arm away from his grip. “not this time dabi. I'm sick of this. sick of you wanting to control everything I do. you wanting to have a dominant role in this relationship. why is that even needed? why can’t you treat me as an equal? can’t you for once just let me live? I'm tired, I'm tired of telling myself that you’ll change when you don’t”, you said, finally showing the frustration on your face.

“and you think I'm having fun?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “you think I enjoy seeing you having fun with someone else? it hurts you just as much as it does me doll”, he said, raising his voice. “it’s also hard for me to see you flirting back with other people! know your fucking limits”, he said placing his hand on your chin and pulling it up slightly.

“don’t act like you are right here”, you sat, pulling your chin away from his grip and taking a step back. “for once. for fucking once accept that you can’t control everything I do and that you can’t overpower me. respect goes both ways, but I'm not seeing any on your accord.”

“now you’re just talking bullshit”, he said in a loud voice, laughing to shake off his frustration. “what does this even mean?! what is it that you’re trying to accomplish here? what is it that you so desperately want, huh? attention from someone else? if you’re not even gonna listen to my feelings, how am I supposed to take yours in account? you only do as you please and where does that bring us, huh?! where the fuck-!”

“that maybe perhaps we’re not meant for each other”, you interrupted him. “that maybe we’re just not fit for each other.”

his face dropped and you saw every emotion pass on his face. he was confused. he was confused as to the words you had just dared to speak, something he didn’t even think about once. to him this was normal, to him this was behavior that should be present in a relationship. to him, fighting everyday seemed normal. but his motives for this relationship seemed to be totally different from yours.

“you must be kidding no”, you said with a distressed smile. “h-how can you just easily say something like that?”

“because you made sure I did. if you just for once tried to understand me, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

he walked closer to you and held your shouders. “you’re kidding right?”

“i’m not, dabi. I'm being very much serious right now. how can I continue this when my feelings are being invalidated on a daily basis? how am I supposed to respect you further when you literally treat me like your pet?”, you said a brushing off his grip on your shoulder. “I can’t do this when all of this only brings me anxiety and constant stress?”

he looked at you, lost in another world progressing what you had just said. it surely couldn’t have been true, you were joking right? but the expression on your face made him his eyes go larger and his mouth almost hung open. “y-you can’t be serious”, he said with a smile, but that soon dropped when he shook your head.

“i’m not”, you said turning around and walking to the door.

you didn’t turn around to look back at him, and he made no attempt to stop you. perhaps he hadn’t even believe that you actually left. or maybe he was just waiting for you to finally leave him. maybe this was for the better you thought, but for dabi this was a whole different experience.

he was convinced you were coming back that night, he convinced himself that you would. so when you didn’t he totally lost it. the person that barely texted you had spammed you with messages and missed calls, leaving behind various emotions. he didn't know what he was feeling. this was all new to him.

dollface, you’re not serious right?

you’re coming back tonight right?

I'm sure you are...

you didn’t take me seriously, did you?

please come back.

please look at your messages.

it’s past midnight, please come back.

don’t scare me like this. just come back already.

please...

you looked at your phone, tapping the corners or your phone. you decided to not answer, but that left you in a weird state of mind. you didn’t know what you were feeling. were you happy? sad? relieved? more stressed? you didn’t even know. you felt numb.

you found your way to an old friend, asking if you could stay over until you figured out what you would do to survive. you locked your phone and threw it next to you on the bed. you allowed yourself to fall with your back on the mattress. you’d feel better in the morning, is what you tried to convince yourself. but would you really?

you woke up with a heavy headache. it was hard to even sit upright. but when you opened your eyes it was still dark. there was heavy rain outside and falling back asleep seemed like an impossible thing right now.

you tapped on your phone letting it light up.

3 a.m.

you sighed. what were you gonna do now? you felt too stressed to even close an eye. you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. you loved him and he probably loved you too, but this couldn’t go on forever.

you looked at your screen again, not missing all the messages he had left behind.

please I know I fucked up, but please just come back.

you can’t be doing this.

and many more messages like that had filled your phone. you frustratingly brushed your hand through your hair and sighed loudly. it felt wrong. it felt wrong to have left like that in the middle of an argument. but at the same time this had happened so many times that you couldn’t just do nothing.

you rose from your bed, still not answering any of his messages. your phone rung every five minutes, but you just didn’t pick it up. you walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water only to leave it on the counter after seeing his new messages.

I really need you.

I don’t need anybody else.

just you. so please, please come back.

you blinked once, then twice and then many more times. dabi had really said he needed you. the independent guy, who would refuse help from anyone had said he needed you. you weren’t sure what to do. you paced around the kitchen, biting down on your nail. your phone made a sound again.

I just really... can’t live without you.

you sighed loudly and with a quick steps you walked to the door. you put on your shoes and ran out the door taking the keys with you. the rain splashed on your skin, clothes and hair, making you soaked in an instant as you ran down the street. but you didn’t care. the only thing that ran through your head was wanting to see dabi. wanting to see him share his feelings and wanting to see him need you.

even the bad memories had a good ending for you. every time you fought, you’d fix it together. so why couldn’t that be done now? why did you have to act so selfishly again? you knew you were partially right, but at the same time you knew this wasn’t right. all your memories with him flooded in your mind and it made you run faster.

your feet dragged you to the place you had thought he was, because you knew he wouldn’t be at the residence. he would be at the place that caused his trauma, but at the same time was his most visited place.

the forest were he had supposedly died. the forest where his dad had refused to come to. the forest with his last memories of home.

you stopped in track when you saw his figure. his back facing you and his head looking up. he was wearing a front zip hoodie with the cap over his head. allowing the droplets to hit his face. he had heard something so he turned around.

when he saw you standing there in the rain he took one step and reached out his hand, but stopped when you only stared at him. you were out of breath, breathing in and out heavily as your chest heaved.

you looked at him, seeing the sad expression on his face. you shook your head and started walking, but before you knew it you were running to him. you ran and when you reached him, you threw yourself on him, holding him like you never did before.

he was in shock, not being able to do anything, just allowing you to slowly pull him down for the hug. when you pulled away you held his face and searched it, but before he could say anything you crashed your lips against his, tasting the rain on them. it was still pouring and this might have been the closest thing to an actual romantic scene the two of you had.

your lips danced together and you melt in each others touch. he finally allowed himself to be embraced and snaked his arms around your back to deepen the kiss. he pushed you against him and moved his hands to your neck to pull you closer. your hands slid down and rested on his chest.

when he pulled away he looked you in your eyes. water droplets were falling on your face and he made an attempt to wipe them away though the rain hadn't stopped. you wanted to say something, but he shut you up by pulling you in once more and giving you a small, but soft kiss.

“i’m sorry”, he said, pulling you flush against him to hug you. “I'm sorry for always wanting to control you. I was just scared.”

you slid your arm around his waist and hugged him back. “scared of what?”

“of you leaving”, he whispered just loud enough to hear above the splashing raindrops. “I haven’t been open about my feelings. I just didn’t know how to. but I was raised with the thought of rejection and people leaving me behind. I wasn’t used to all of this. I wasn’t used to having all this affection, so I was scared you’d leave just like the rest.”

you tightened your grip on him. “I don’t have a reason to leave. I just need you to be open with me like just now. so we can work things out together”, you said, looking up so that you were facing him.

he looked down and a soft smile formed on his face. he kissed you again and again and again until completely devouring your lips on his, not giving you a chance to pull away. but that wasn’t needed. you had understood the whole situation and the both of you were able to figure it out together. many ways had opened for the two of you and the both of you have yet to learn so much about each other. but you were both willing to change yourself for each other. because even if things weren't always great, the two of you would find their ways back to each other.

#dabi #dabi mha #dabi bnha #dabi drabble #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

Text

John Munch / Simple

Prompt: “Suck it” “oh i’m gonna suck something”

Word Count: 3,887

Warnings: canon typical situations and violence, discussion of rape (non-graphic), hurt/comfort apparently, fin and munch are literally some of my fav characters to write for lmao, some discussion of the psych evals from 1x22

A/N: what is this? how did this happen? I don’t know - i blame @laneygthememequeen mostly, but also my friends for enabling me beyond belief lmao.

“Am I allowed to come in or must I bow and show my allegiance before I am deemed worthy?” and you didn’t need to look up from your desk to know who it was. Your pen still moved, scribbling notes in the margins of the answer that was given to you by Roger Klessler — more hassle than law.

“No need for allegiance, Detective Munch — I know you only give that to your squad and your string of conspiracy theories,” you finish with the page, sparing him a glance, “only compliance is needed — the one thing you didn’t do on the last case.”

“Your hands aren’t exactly clean yourself, counselor,” he shuts the door behind him, slipping his hands into his pockets, “what did you do to get that warrant again?”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you questioning my integrity?”

“Funny, I didn’t know lawyers had any,”

“They don’t, but I can try, can’t I?” you lean on your elbow, “what do you need?”

“We have a suspect in holding who just invoked, we thought they might be a little more conducive to having an A.D.A. in the box with them,” he tilted his head.

“Alex isn’t available?”

“Alex told us to get you,” you held in your sigh, “don’t you lawyers talk to each other?”

“No, we communicate through telepathy,” you reply drily, grabbing your coat and bag, “Let’s go.”

~~~

“Counselor, you should remind your client that his options are running out,” to say this meeting was going poorly would have been the understatement of the century, “and my patience is running thin.”

A serial child and women abuser — with videos abusing so many children and women over the last twenty years, videos that made your stomach turn — and to make matters worse, he had made into a business, selling these children and women and their pain for profit — and now it was time to make his pain your profit.

“You have no evidenc—”

“We have a witness who saw your client, we have his DNA being run against the blood that was found at the scene, and when it comes back it will match and your client will be facing life in prison—” your teeth grit, “And I’ll be sure he gets it. Or, give up your sick buddies. And maybe you’ll have the possibility of parole in the far off future.”

“You fucking bitch—” he spits at you.

“Is that the best you can do?” you raise an eyebrow, as you see Munch tense out of the corner of your eye, “Mr. Bradford, I’m not scared of you. I’m not a defenseless child or battered woman you can intimidate—” you cross your arms, “not so easy picking on someone who can fight back, is it?”

Bradford lunges, but Munch shoves him back into his chair, “Do we need to add assault on an A.D.A. to your laundry list of charges, Bradford?” and you blink, slack jawed, a shiver going down your spine — if Munch was a second later— “Try that again and I’ll have you—”

There’s a knock on the window, and your eyes snap over, “Control your client, counselor, or I’ll have him locked up in solitary,” your jaw is set — you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing you waver, “the offer had 24 hours — it now has an expiration date in ten, so look forward to hearing from you in one.”

The door shuts behind you, your fingers white knuckling the handle of your briefcase. Liv frowns, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you wave them off, as Munch emerges from the room as well, “tell me when he caves to my offer. And when you’re setting up the sting to get the other guys — I want to be there to make everything go smoothly. No screw ups this time.”

“All due respect, counselor, but we don’t need a babysitter,” Fin says.

“All due respect, Detective, maybe you do,” you swallow the lump sitting on your throat, “we need to nail these guys — we have all of New York, 1PP, and the D.A.’s office all breathing down our necks — it needs to be airtight,” you scan all of their faces, “unless all of you would like to take the heat?”

“I don’t think any of us want that, counselor,” Cragen cuts in, “we appreciate your help. We’ll let you know when we decide to go ahead with the sting.”

You nod curtly, intent on leaving the precinct as quickly as you could — the image of Bradford lunging at you still fresh and stinging — but nothing was that easy, “Counselor,” Munch was at your side, standing beside you at the elevators, as you pressed the button, “in a rush?”

“To go home? Yes,”

“I just wanted—”

“Wanted what, Munch? What do you want?” you sigh exasperatedly, fighting a losing battle for your voice not to break, “I’m not in the mood for a verbal sparring match, so why don’t we take a rain check?”

The elevator doors ding, and you step in, hoping to spare yourself the agony of a response, but he follows, the doors shutting behind him.

But surprisingly his voice was soft, “I wanted to make sure you were okay,”

“I’m fine,” you cross your arms, hoping that it would hold you together, until you got to your office, “I’m not scared of him, Munch—”

“I know you could kick his ass, counselor, I’m not asking you if you’re ready to go seven rounds in the ring with him—” he leans against the wall of the elevator, “I’m just asking if you’re alright.”

You raise an eyebrow, “John Munch asking me if I’m alright? No sarcastic remark?”

“I know, I’m surprised myself, I might have to ask Skoda to do a psych eval on me,” and you crack a smile, shaking your head.

“It was scary,” you admit, something you didn’t want to, “I’ve been threatened before — messages, verbally, even had a guy say he would kill my family—” you bite your lip, “but I never had someone try something, physically before.”

“It’s okay to have been scared, y’know,” the elevator doors ding, and you step out, shaking your head, “no one expects you to be strong all the time, counselor.”

And you pause, looking back at him, “But I do,” you blink away the tears, “good night, detective.”

~~~

“It’s too risky!” you ignore Munch, continuing to fix your makeup, “You saw how you acted when Bradford lunged at you — why—”

“I would do anything to make sure these men get put away,” you finish your makeup, grabbing the outfit Liv had handed you, “and that includes this.”

This being an undercover operation designed to get names of victims, ages, and dates if possible, before arresting the group for exchanging pictures and videos of their crimes.

“Putting yourself in the middle of this chaos? You’re being reckless—”

You slide past him and into a bathroom stall, “I know what I’m doing,”

“Do you? Do you know how many things could go wrong?” he continues, “I could list them for you for posterity — assault, battery, rape, and let’s not forget murder—”

“I don’t think Liv will let me get murdered when she’s in the room with me, and I would you, Fin, Stabler, and the Captain wouldn’t either—”

“Things go wrong on these ops, counselor — the field isn’t as safe as a courtroom — court officers, a metal detector right outside—”

His words fail when the door swings open, a skin tight bodysuit clung to your figure, crimson, just as his ears nearly were, his eyes raking over your outfit, before finding their way back to your raised brows, “You were saying?”

He stumbles over his words, “I was saying that—” you cross your arms, waiting and he finds himself distracted all over again, before he shakes himself from his stupor, “I was saying that this is too dangerous—”

“Munch—” you cut him off, “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I’m going to nail these guys anyway I can, so you can’t change my mind,” your hand finds his shoulder, squeezing, “but I can count on you to have my back right?”

He simmers, sighing, his eyes softening, “Of course,” and you squeeze his shoulder, and he calls after you as you head towards the squadroom, “I just hope they taught you taekwondo in law school,”

“And I hope you know by ‘having my back,’ I meant more than my ass,” you flash him a smile over your shoulder, shaking your head, and flexing your fingers.

It would be fine.

You would be fine.

~~~

It wasn’t fine. He couldn’t find you.

“Where is he? Where is that son of a bitch, he took—”

“Munch, calm down,” Liv starts, and he’s shaking his head, his finger in his face.

“You were supposed to watch them, you were supposed to—”

“Hey, Munch,” Elliot cuts between him and his partner, his hand on his shoulder, “we all were there, Bradford slipped out during the raid, there wasn’t anything we could do. We’re going to find them.”

Munch brushes him away, finding Fin, “Where are we on Bradford?”

“Got him sneaking out during the takedown,” Fin points you out in the crowd, “looks like he had a knife pressed against counselor’s back, just out of view.”

“How the hell did that scum sucking, gangrenous low life of a—”

“Looks like he stole it off one of his buddies he was setting up,” Fin rewinds the tape, and points it out, “lifts it right from his pocket.”

“Where does he go?” Fin fast forwards, until he gets to the cameras outside, shooting from the van itself.

“He steals a car down the street, must belong to that brownstone,” Fin shoves the equipment at another officer, “Let’s get the license plate and get a bolo out.”

Liv and Elliot join the two of them, handing a report to Fin, “We got a list of places that Bradford was known to hang out at—”

“What are we waiting for?” Munch brushes past them to the car, rounding the car to the driver’s seat, pulling it open, before Fin stops him.

“I’m driving,” Fin says, holding his hand, and Munch opens his mouth to rebut, “do we really have time to argue right now?”

Munch glares at him, before handing him the keys, “You better not abide by any traffic laws,”

“Do I ever?”

~~~

“Can we go any faster than this? I swear my great uncle could drive faster than this,” Munch expects his partner to be angry, but he’s only sighing and shaking his head, “what?”

And Fin side eyes him, “If you’re in love with—”

Munch gapes at him, “I’m not—”

“--then why don’t you just say something, man?” Fin scoffs, “you can deny it all you want, explain it away with one of your crazy ass conspiracy theories, but it’s there, John.”

Munch pulls off his glasses, running his hand over his face, fingers resting right below his nose, “You know every time I got married, I thought I was in love,”

“I know, and then your ex-wives screwed you — what about it?”

“This is different,” he sighs, “and I don’t want to admit that to myself.”

“What’s so bad about that, Munch? You want to try again,” and Munch is shaking his head.

“You know a psychiatrist once told me that the reason all my marriages failed was because I chose women who were spoiled, beautiful, and not my intellectual equal?”

“Meeting some of your ex-wives, I could believe that,” Fin’s eyes fall back to the road, “what’s your point?”

Your name slips from his lips, “this is different — this is someone’s who's my equal — smarter than me, beautiful— it could — we could be—” he cuts off, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose--” and he cuts off, sighing, “I don’t know.”

“Well that’s easy, John,” Fin pulls over, the car screeching as it does, “we won’t,” and he jerks his head, “whose car does that look like?” Munch calls in the car, unbuckling himself and slipping from the car, “We have to wait for back-up—”

“I’m not waiting—” before he adds, “you don’t have to come—”

“I’m not letting your bony ass get shot again,” Fin is already shutting the car door, pulling his gun out, “let’s go.”

~~~

“Are you scared now?” Bradford asks, circling you — a predator gauging its prey — no, he was simply playing with you now. Your wrists flex against your restraints, the wood grain of the chair digging into your skin the more you struggled, the rope around your wrists ungiving, “are you, counselor?”

It was rhetorical — judging by the tape stuck to your lips and the fact he continued to speak, and his fingers fist into your hair, pulling your head back, “Come on, no smart remarks now?”

Are you that stupid that you’ve forgotten that you taped my mouth over?

No, wait he was that stupid.

And he slaps you — the sting of his palm against your cheek dazes you a moment, and then his fist lands a blow in your stomach, choking on the same air you breathed, tears burning before slipping down your cheeks.

“Do you think this is bad?” and now he’s holding your face between his fingers, nails digging into your cheeks, and he grins, a shiver going down your spine, “just wait.” And he disappears a moment, his shadowy figure rifling through a bag on a table.

Your eyes darted around, looking for something that could help you, something to help you escape, but nothing was within reach. Your chest squeezed — what if you died here? What if you never saw your family again? What if you never saw your friends again? What if they never found your body? Fear claws up your throat, eyes burning.

What if they found your body?

What if Munch found your body?

You had promised him you’d be careful, but you were careless. You didn’t watch Bradford close enough, you didn’t stick with Liv, you were stupid — so stupid.

And you wondered if he’d rape you before he was done — if they would find your body like so many victims that came across your desk. You wondered if he’d kill you at all — or just let you live with the memories of his torture.

And you didn’t know what was worse.

But then something clatters in the distance, and his head is whipping around, there are footsteps, and he’s grabbing a knife, cutting your restraints free, “Come here bitch,” he mutters, hurrying to cut the ropes, at your feet before moving to the ones at your wrists, “they aren’t taking me before I get a chance to slit your throat.”

Blood roaring in your ears, you know you have to do something — he’s almost done cutting the last rope at your wrist. You couldn’t wait for help.

You rear your head back, before smashing it into his, hard. His groan gets caught in his throat, as you lunge for the knife, the handle within grasp of your fingers, and you’re trying to crawl away, a deep ache in your skull. You’re stumbling to your feet, but his fingers close around your ankle.

“I should have fucking killed you from the start,” and you kick him with your free foot, hearing him scream and the satisfying crack of his nose breaking, gripping the knife in your hand and pushing yourself to your feet.

And you rip the tape from your mouth, “Get the fuck away from me!” you point the knife at him, heart pounding against your ribcage, as he lays clutching his bloody nose.

But he’s still getting to his feet, “You better hand over that fucking knife—”

“You better not take another step before I blow your brains out,” and suddenly Fin and Munch are there, Fin stepping forward to arrest Bradford, as Munch is beside you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and he’s trying to ease the knife out of your fingers, but you won’t let go, “let go of the knife, it’s okay,” he’s murmuring in your ear, slipping the knife from your fingers, “you’re okay. I got you.”

Your knees are buckling, and he’s holding you, your head buried in his chest, “I thought he was going to—”

“I know,” he says softly, “I know, but you’re okay.”

“Because of you,” And he’s helping you up, and police sirens in the distance, as he helps you out of the building, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he whispers, “I’m sorry,”

“For what?” and his arm around you squeezes you gently.

“For not saving you sooner,” And suddenly EMS and police are flooding the scene, Fin is shoving Bradford into a car. And you spot him, glaring, but Munch steps between his view, his arm around your shoulders, “don’t bother with that scum. He’s not worth it.”

And he wasn’t — you knew he wasn’t, but you know that you wouldn’t be able to prosecute him now. But, you craned your neck to watch him be taken away, you wanted to see the bastard get put away at least.

It’s over, you tell yourself as you rest your head against Munch’s shoulder.

It was over.

~~~

“I just want to go home,” you shake your head, but he pulls you along regardless, protesting all the same.

“Just let them look at you, please?” he asks, “if only for my sanity.”

And you scoff softly, “I thought you lost that a long time ago,”

“There’s that wit,” he replies, and you go with him, fingers intertwined with his. E.M.S. examines you, insisting on taking you to the hospital for a possible concussion. But you don’t want to — you just want to sleep, you want to take a shower, you want to forget this ever happened—

“Please just let me go,” you’re pleading with him, tears slipping down your cheeks, “John, please let me go home.” and he’s wavering for a moment, before his hand is on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down.

“I can’t, and you know that, counselor,” he never wanted to see you cry like this, he never wanted to see you as a victim — because you aren’t just another victim at his desk or in photos spread across his desk — you were you.

But you were also a victim now.

“Why not?” you lie against the pillow in defeat, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he’s leaning down to your level, running his fingers through your hair.

“Because you’re hurt, and you need to be seen. I don’t trust doctors as much as the next conspiracy nut, but you still need to see one,” he tilts his head, “do you want me to come?”

And you’re blinking back tears, before nodding, “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize,” he’s wiping your tears away, “don’t ever apologize for this.”

~~~

You don’t remember much else — it’s a blur of testing, until finally they let you sleep. And you don’t know how long you sleep. But you don’t dream, and for that much, you’re thankful. You awake to the low hum of hospital machinery, and quiet voices in the room. And you blink, the fluorescents much too bright for you, and your eyes flutter shut again, before not before voices creep in.

“—been asleep?”

“It’s been a few hours,” Munch whispers, assumedly trying to keep from waking you, but that was out of the question already, “docs gave something for sleep.”

“Have you said anything yet?” and it’s Fin asking.

“When? In between the ambulance ride here and the C.A.T. scan and the fifty other tests they ran?” Munch replies drily, sighing, “it’s not the right time,”

“You know there’s never going to be a right time, John,” and you’re grateful that you’re turned away from them, your brow furrowed, their voices growing louder, “you have to say something or is counselor a mind reader now?”

“Well—”

“Don’t spout another conspiracy theory or you’ll be the one in the hospital bed,” you could almost see Fin crossing his arms.

“You know that psychiatrist also told me I could make a conspiracy theory from a five-year-old’s lemonade stand,”

Fin raises an eyebrow, “Well now that I believe,”

“What am I supposed to say?” Munch asks, “‘hi, I know you almost just died, but I think I’m in love with you?’”

And your eyes snap open, the air sucked straight from your lungs — “It can be that simple,”

He was in love with you? John Munch was in love with you. Your heart squeezed at the thought — you hadn’t a clue that he was. You knew he cared — but you didn’t know he… loved you.

“Nothing is ever that simple,” and you turn around, the words leaving your lips without a thought.

“It can be, John,” and both him and Fin’s gazes snap to you, a small smile on your lips, “if you let it be.”

Munch is staring at you slack jawed, while Fin is grinning, elbowing him, “I’ll leave you two alone,” before he adds, “remember that there is an officer at the door—”

“Fin—” and he’s gone, disappearing out of the door, and Munch is wiping a hand down his face, his cheeks flushed red, “so how much of that—”

“All of it,” and he’s covering his hands with his face, “for someone who claims to be so evolved, you’re very cute when you’re embarrassed,”

“I’m cute?” he repeats, and you hold out your hand to him, and he’s staring a moment — as if he can’t believe it — before taking your hand, “how cute?”

You snort, “Just cute enough, don’t go getting an ego,”

“You’re sure it’s not just the concussion? And the almost dying?” and you roll your eyes, tugging him closer, by his coat’s lapel, and he’s whispering your name.

“How’s this for an answer?” and you kiss him — his lips barely brush yours a moment, but he’s already pulling you back in, parting and meeting until you hold him there a moment, fingers twisting in the hair resting on the small of his neck, “John—” you breath against his lips.

“I don’t understand why…” he whispers, your foreheads brushing.

“Why...?”

“I don’t understand why me,” his fingers cup your cheek gently, as if you’d disappear between his fingers, “you could be with anyone — why would you choose this paranoid, old detective?”

“Because it’s you,” you softly chuckle, and you draw your lips to his again, “and I wouldn’t want you any other way,” before you add, “except maybe sharing your feelings more so I don’t have to overhear any other conversations to know how you’re feeling.”

“I could say the same to you, counselor,”

“Excuse me, I said how I felt first,” you gape at him, in mock offense.

“Only after hearing how I felt,” but you shrug, smiling as your noses brush.

“Still, I was the first, so suck it,” you reply, and he laughs, a warm sound that makes your chest stir.

“Oh,” his lips brush yours, a smile on his lips, “I’m gonna suck something.”

#john munch #john munch x reader #john munch imagines #john munch fanfiction #svu imagines #svu #law and order: svu #what the fuck is this dkfsnjfn

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just-a-quirkless-loser · 5 years ago

Text

Invective Pain

Alpha Bakugou x F!Omega Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested by: @goatsenpaiultimate

Hehe, sorry for the wait you guys. It’s been a rough few weeks for me. Also, the song ‘Butterfly’s Repose’ by Zabawa is amazing to listen to while you read this💜

Warnings: harsh language, Bakugou being an asshole, angst

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Alpha, please.”

“I said, get off. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been too clingy,” you prove his point and cling to his arm.

“I miss you,” you try to nuzzle his neck so he can scent you. With your wolf quirk, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from Bakugou for long periods of time. Your instincts were on hyperdrive, always wanting him within your reach so you knew he was safe.

“Don’t you understand what ‘no’ means?” Bakugou tenses up as you continue trying to climb his body. Due to his inability to express himself, he’s still not used to your affections.

“I can’t help it,” you ruffle your tail to prove your point.

“Well, try harder to help it.”

“But, alpha-“

“No, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. As soon as I come home, you want to climb all over me. I can’t even take a fucking shower,” you hunch into yourself as you take a step away from him. Looking back on it, he did have a point. You could stand to at least allow him a few moments to himself before you bombard him. But, it’s just hard on you.

Because of your quirk, you’ve always been the type to cling to people and try to protect them. You miss your parents because you considered them to be your pack but, that all changed when you met Bakugou. After a few months of dating, you moved in with Bakugou (your inner Omega told you she’d love to start her own pack with him). However, it’s been a difficult transition.

Bakugou normally takes your clinginess in stride but, it’s been hard for him lately. All he wants to do is take you underneath him and nuzzle you and treat you like a queen. But, he’s been dealing with this case. It’s been stressing him out and he’s never been the type to deal with stress in a correct way.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I- FUCK! Omega. I just can’t keep doing this. You’re fucking annoying. This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have moved in together,” his words stung in your mind like a swarm of hornets, making you yelp in your mind. Although, no one would ever be able to tell your inner turmoil from the calm look on your face. Why does he have to tear you down with his words? What does he gain from your dissociation? Does it bring him satisfaction to win the argument? Even at the expense of your heart? The same heart he swore to protect when he chose you as a mate.

“I’m sorry,” and you don’t understand why. You just stand there with a blank expression, no longer feeling that your heart is safe in his hands. And, that is worse than losing an argument the two of you have.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m tired of you sticking to my fucking side like a toddler. You’re always hovering over me. I need space,” you intend to give him all the space he needs. “Selfish extra.”

He doesn’t know what his words do to you as he goes to the room you share, bumping you out of his way. You want to cry, you want to chirp, you want to-to-die; without him-without your alpha- what is there to live for?

Your omega crawls to your heart, shriveling up like a raisin as if your soul has been sucked by a vacuum. You feel your heart drop; the first sign of Omega Depression and you don’t tell Katsuki. How can you?

He made it clear how bothersome you were in his life. You never meant to be a burden to him. All you wanted to do was love him and give him the love he lacked from his teenage years. But, it’s transparent that you’re not wanted by the person your soul has imprinted upon.

You sit on the couch, staring into nothingness. What did you do wrong? What was so wrong with wanting to love him? You feel weak. Maybe if Katsuki had someone stronger, someone who could take his invective words in stride, he’d be happier.

As you wallow in your own pain, Katsuki is upstairs taking a shower. Part of him feels relieved to finally have some space to himself and the other scolds him for what said; he barely remembers what he said to you exactly. All he knows that your face is blank so, he assumes it’s not too bad since you weren’t crying.

He walks out of the shower expecting to see you but, he’s greeted with an empty bed. He figures you just want space to be angry so, he lets you stay downstairs.

‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ it won’t. As he dozes off to that thought, you were downstairs stuck in your mind. It's your fault for always forgiving him after he’s verbally ruined you You just thought your love for him outweighed anything he said to you. But, your unconditional love has reached its limit.

You wait till he falls asleep before you break the facade (you still want him to get his sleep so he can wake up healthy tomorrow). You heave and whimper as you curl into a ball on the cold living room floor. You shake from the force of your tears, tears falling like rain in the spring. You’re trying to smile to stop the tears but, your mouth ends up in a horrible grimace as you silently berate yourself. Your hands scrape at your arms, nails taking patches of your skin as a way to distract your mind. You don’t sleep that night; you don’t sleep for any of the nights that follow.

When you hear your alpha’s alarm clock sound, you climb on the couch with your face smooshed to the cushions. Katsuki follows his nightly routine, not even checking to see if you’re okay. He just gets dressed for his patrol and leaves breakfast on the table for you, kissing your hair goodbye before he leaves out the door.

You’re once again crying as you just lay there. You don’t bother to call your job to notify them of your absence. If anything, you just lay there, your tail curled around your body as if it’s protecting you from the world.

You feel useless against your heart because you know you shouldn’t have allowed Bakugou’s temper to get to this point. You had suggested therapy and anger management to him many times but, he was persistent in telling you that he had it under control. You knew he thought seeking therapy was weak (as he thinks most things are weak) but, you just wanted him to think before he spoke.

You can tell that he’s tried to do better for you and you appreciate that but, it’s not enough anymore.

This was the last straw. Not because you still don’t love him but, because you’re now in your Omega’s Depression. It’s a fairly new phenomenon. The doctors warned Omegas and Alphas that their second genders could drive them into a comatose state if the genders were met with unfavorable conditions. Your omega has started the process and you can only hope that Katsuki figures that out before it’s too late.

At first, Bakugou didn’t think anything about your attitude. He just thought you were giving him space (which he hated. It feels weird to him to be alone when he was always with you and he’s too prideful to admit that) however, he knows something is wrong when you start to avoid him.

You don’t talk to him like you use to, you don’t cook his favorite spicy ramen anymore, hell, you don’t even come to bed anymore. It’s like two strangers living in the same house (well, roommates would be more accurate). And, he misses you.

“Why are you sleeping on that shitty couch?” He’s standing above you with his arms folded, head to the side so he can hide his blush. You don’t respond, dried tear stains on your cheeks.

“Not gonna answer? What you’re too good to speak to me?” He squats down to eye-level. His breath fans across your face, the smokey caramel of his scent bringing more tears to your eyes. “Omega?”

You still don’t answer. He takes that as you still being angry about the argument; he also notes the change in your scent.

“Tch,” he walks to the bedroom and comes back with a few blankets so he can make a small hammock beside the couch at your side. He slips into the covers, hand upon your waist so he can feel you. “Goodnight, Omega.”

The next day, you’re still in the same spot on the couch above him. He does his routine, this time spending longer at saying goodbye.

“I’ll be back, Omega. Cuddling wouldn’t be the worse thing when I get home,” you stare blankly.

“And, I put some of your favorite cookies on the table,” still nothing.

“I love you,” nothing. And, that’s how he knows that everything is wrong. He spends the day on patrol, withdrawn from his hero-work. All he can think about is that blank look in your eye, the stillness of your home, the taste of failure on his tongue.

‘I fucked up,’ he sure did.

He comes home and you're still in the same spot. He doesn’t even think you got up to use the bathroom. You’re the first thing he attends to when his boots cross the threshold.

“Omega, you need a bath,” you don’t move so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. Your body is sweating and that stench gets even worse. “Omega, I’m sorry.”

But, sorry doesn’t fix everything. Sorry is nothing when you truly hurt someone. Sorry is when someone feels obligated to correct their wrongs (not because they want to). Sorry is the Black Licorice of apologies.

“Have you gone to work?” No. He knows you haven’t but, he just wants you to talk to him. His alpha cries for his mate yet, she doesn’t respond. “Baby?”

The bath is spent in silence as you sag on him. His hand's card through your (h/c) hair, trying to release some of your tension. It’s such an intimate moment of him caressing your body as though you are a precious work of art. His lips latched onto the mating mark on the side of your neck, reminding you that he cares.

When he gets you out of the tub, he dries you with your favorite fluffy towel. His carmine eyes gaze at you adoringly from your navel, blonde hair resting against your belly. One in a while, he’ll kiss your legs and feet, silently showing how much he truly cares for you.

Night rolls around and you both follow the same routine as before; you’re laying on the couch and he’s laying beside you on the floor. You’re not eating and that terrifies him. Sadly, this goes on for another month. And, Katsuki is growing desperate to have his omega back.

“I allowed my anger to do this to her- to me-to us. And, now, I don’t know if I can help her anymore,” he joined an anger management group (which, coincidentally helped his public image as well) after he realized the argument caused the rift in your relationship.

And, you’re proud of him on the inside, even if you can’t show it. At least he’s trying but, your omega just turns a blind eye to his efforts. You commend Katsuki for not giving up though.

‘It must be hard trying to change and improve for someone and they don’t even acknowledge your existence,’ you do feel bad for him. It seems that your love does outweigh his words.

But, you’re dying. He knows it. You know it. It’s known. He just won’t accept it.

“Omega,” you’re unconscious. He came home from the weekly session to find you unresponsive (well, more unresponsive than what you’ve been). “Omega, fuck-please-I God I, please wake up.”

 So, you’re at the hospital now. The antiseptic burns your sensitive nose as you’re propped up on the hospital bed, sheets crinkling under your body. The doctors told Bakugou that you didn’t really have long to live but, he just can’t allow you to go without trying his best to save you.

“Omega, please, look at me,” you look at him but, it’s like you’re not seeing him. Your eyes don’t have the shine they used to. “Omega, please.”

You can’t answer him. What if you said the wrong thing? You were clinging to life by a single strand of fiber, death clinging to your scent. You knew you couldn’t handle it if Katsuki’s words hurt you once more.

“Please, talk to me, yell at me. Hit me. Do anything,” you can’t. Your voice is stuck in your mind. “Get mad. Throw something. Spit on me! Push me away. Shit, anything. Please just please please pleaseeee, fucking, please. PLEASE I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE WITHOUT YOU. Please stop looking like you want to die.”

“But, I do,” you hope he can understand.

“NO! NO NO! I FUCKING NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU,” he chokes on his words as he gathers your face in his hands. “I’m such a piece of shit. It takes you dying for me to realize how much I love you. But, I do. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t lose you.”

“Wipe your tears,” you brush your thumbs across his cheek to gather his tears. “I’m right here.”

“How can you love me still? Your will to live is fucking weak and it’s my fault! And, I’m sitting here asking you to hold on for me. You don’t even have to speak to me. Just stay here. I promise I’ll stay here with you. You can’t leave me.”

“Bakugou-“

“For fuck's sake, It’s Katsuki to you! I did this to you. I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for pushing you away when I felt I didn’t deserve your love. I’m sorry for making you feel the pain I felt all these years. I’m sorry for being a shitty alpha,” he cries in your lap as you pat his back. Your omega stores, crooning to help her alpha. You’re not dead; the future may look bleak but, you know it will finally bring you the love you longed for.

————————————————————————-

Tag List💕

@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

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marktuansvevo · 4 years ago

Text

got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red.

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan.

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist.

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned.

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed.

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered.

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs.

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now.

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,”

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

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eternalsimp · 4 years ago

Text

Cursed Fears

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3096

Warnings: aged up Megumi, use of female pronouns, swearing, mentions of violence, spoilers for episodes 5 and 6, mention of character death, slight sexual themes toward the end, angst, minors dni.

The sound of the rain steadily increasing was the only sound in your apartment as you waited patiently for your boyfriend. Your laptop displayed that it was midnight as you lazily scribbled statistics solutions onto the notes app of your tablet. Once you felt you reached a stopping point you got up to find a long sleeve to stave off the cold that seeped into the apartment from the storm. Striding over to your closet to pull out something to remind you of him. As you grabbed his signature grey shirt, you were immediately hit with the soft scent of cedar-wood. It was thin and soft from years of use. It hung loosely and brought you a sort of comfort as you counted down the minutes ‘til he got home. You weren’t a sorcerer, but you were well aware of the dangers that your friends went out and faced, and the panic in the back of your mind grew louder as the hours passed since Megumi had walked out of the door.

You stifled a yawn as you finally heard the lock to your front door click open and shut. You closed your eyes and stretched your back to loosen the knots that formed from doing your homework on the living room floor. As you made your way to the door to greet your boyfriend, he was frantically kicking his shoes off and stripping himself of his jacket.

“Hey love, how was it?” you said softly while reaching for his rain-soaked torso. He flinched away from your touch, eyes wide and afraid. His blue eyes scan your confused face before he blinks slowly and takes a shuddering breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to still be up.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. The smell of blood, dirt, and god knows what else isn’t lost on you as he tries to pass you quickly. You bend to pick his jacket off of the floor where he had tossed it in his haste, and walk to your shared bedroom to put it in the laundry basket. You open the drawers to his side of the dresser to pull out his favorite sweats and a plain white tee-shirt, before gently placing them on the bathroom counter where he is aggressively scrubbing his face.

“You’re gonna get sick if you stay in those wet clothes much longer,” you say oh so matter of factly before pushing up on your toes to kiss the corner of his jaw. Your movements take him slightly off guard, which you use to your advantage to nudge him to a sitting position on the bench next to the shower. You run a washcloth under the warm water of the sink, move to stand between his legs, and gently brush the cloth against his temple. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You both sit in silence as you wipe the remnants of sweat and blood off of his face and neck. You notice the way he's holding your waist, hands so light his touch is barely there. Like he’s afraid you'll break if he makes a wrong move. After you finish wiping his face and neck, you tug at the hem of his soaked shirt and he complies with your wordless command to take it off. You step back out of the bathroom to toss it into the basket with his Jujustu Tech jacket.

When you walk back in, his head is leaning against the cool wall, letting you fully take stock of the bruises and cuts adorning the top half of his body. The worst of it looks like a slight split at the corner of his bottom lip and a shallow cut above one of his brows. You stride over to him and run your fingers through his black hair. “Baby,” you crooned softly. He gave a soft hum in acknowledgment as you nuzzled your nose into the top of his head. “I love you but you smell like a sewer, can you please shower before you fall asleep?” He sticks his tongue out playfully as you back away from him so he can stand up and move towards the shower.

Though his normal stoic behavior wouldn’t concern you, you still can’t shake the terrified look on his face when he first entered the apartment. How tense he’s holding himself and the way that he’s obviously trying not to worry you. His eyes linger on your face like he’s trying to memorize every aspect of it before he drops his gaze and shakes whatever thought he had out of his head.

You settle back on the living room floor between the coffee table and the couch and turn your attention back to your college notes. You only have time to pick your stylus back up before your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. You look down and see Itadori’s name scrawled across the screen along with a picture of him smiling next to your grouchy-looking boyfriend.

“Hey Yuuji, what’s up?”

“Hey y/n, I know it's late but I just wanted to make sure Fushiguro got back okay.”

“Yeah, he’s in the shower. Do you want me to have him call you when he’s out?”

“No… I just… did he seem okay when he got back?”

You chewed on the corner of your mouth for a second, “I mean, he seemed kinda unsettled but that’s not unusual for when he comes back from your guys' missions.”

“Yeah… yeah you’re right. I don’t know, he just seemed off after everything. Never mind.”

You hear the water shut off in the other room and quirk a brow. “Yuuji you better spit it out or else I’m gonna come over there and start cutting your fingers off! What are you not telling me?”

“On that note, I gotta go. Just talk to him, okay?”

“Wait Yuuji-” the line goes dead before you can press him with more questions. You stuff your phone back into your pocket and tap your stylus on your tablet for a couple of minutes. Just talk to him. Gore and violence are nothing new to Megumi, and he isn’t easily fazed, so what would shake him so bad that even Yuuji is worried?

You’re pulled from your thoughts both literally and figuratively when you feel a pair of muscular arms lift you onto the couch behind you. You are once again settled between your boyfriend's legs as you’re pressed against his strong chest. You yelp and try to wiggle out of his grasp but his years of training with the other Jujustu Sorcerers, even after graduating, leave him with an iron grip on your hips.

“Hang on let me grab my notes,” you protest. He presses his face into your neck and whines. After a few moments of struggling against him, you manage to snatch your tablet and pen off the ground and open it to your last question. You adjust yourself so your shoulder is against his chest and you can lazily drape your legs over his thigh. He rests his cheek against the crown of your head and readjusts his arms around you so he can still hold you tightly while not blocking your view of your classwork. You scribble notes for a few more minutes before deciding that him falling asleep in this position will mean him complaining of a sore neck in the morning, what with the awkward way it's twisted to lean against you. You could feel his body getting heavier against your own. You remembered what Yuuji had told you, and in an effort to keep him awake, you decided to ask what had been nagging you since he got back home.

“Are you okay?” All you get in response is another hum from your barely awake boyfriend. You shift again and reach up to run your fingers through his still-damp hair, “‘Gumi, baby, you shouldn't fall asleep here. Let’s go to bed.” He chuckles lightly at the nickname you gave him way back when you first started dating, and how you save it for private moments like this.

“I just wanna hold you for a bit longer, I promise we’ll get up soon.” Megumi finally murmurs. You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches as you try to fix your gaze upon him. You sigh and set your tablet down before turning to straddle Megumi’s lap and force him to look at you.

“What’s wrong, you’re more distant than usual?” You rest your hands on either side of his face and turn him to look at you. He avoids eye contact and suddenly you’re looking at the guarded 16-year-old boy who refused to open up to anyone when you first met. You lean to rest your forehead against his as he focuses his gaze somewhere between your jaw and the base of your throat. “Please talk to me? What happened out there?”

Megumi struggles internally on how much to tell you. You mindlessly stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and he finds himself settling his hands back on your waist again, with the same feather-light touch that you would use with glass. Finally, you get his answer in the form of a whisper.

“I’m scared I’m gonna lose you…”

You immediately pull your head back to look at him straight on only to be met with a faraway gaze. You furrow your brows together and squeeze his face just enough to get his attention. His eyes snap to yours and you can see the tears starting to prick at the corners. “I’m not going anywhere ‘Gumi.” You smile at him before pulling him closer to you and he buries his face into your neck.

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m scared I’m putting you in danger,” his voice is starting to waver, “You didn’t ask for this, any of this. I’m gone all the time, always on missions constantly putting both our lives in danger. I can’t even imagine what would happen if one of the special grades were to find out about you. It’s bad enough Sukuna knows you.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and you feel his chest shudder.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You nudge his face away from your shoulder and see the tears he’s been holding back finally fall. The only other time you can remember him crying like this was when he thought Yuji died. You go back to stroking his face and shushing him but it's too late, the dam is broken and he can no longer hold back the sobs.

“What if I can’t protect you?” He continues to choke out his fears while you keep stroking his face lovingly and whispering soft reassurances to him that everything is going to be okay and you’re both safe. You let him cry into your chest until his strangled sobs slowly turn into soft sniffles.

“Feeling any better baby?” You gently push at his shoulders and lean him back again so you can look at him. He nods hesitantly and lets you wipe any remaining tears from under his now puffy eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just tired and I guess everything kinda boiled over all at once,” he sighs. You lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly melts into it.

“Don’t be sorry Megumi, you can talk to me about anything.” You press another kiss to his forehead and continue rubbing small circles into his jaw to loosen the tension there. After a few moments of holding each other silently, you pipe your voice up again. “Yuji called, he seemed worried. Did something happen tonight?”

You felt Megumi go stiff underneath you before quickly relaxing into your touch again. “Itadori started to lose control and Sukuna was just being a dick, per usual.” You inhale sharply and try to remove yourself from his grasp, you are gonna kill those two one of these days. As if he could read your mind Megumi quickly grabbed your wrists effectively pinning you against his chest once again. “Okay no, stop it. Nothing happened, he was just being mouthy and trying to wind me up. Obviously, it worked...”

“I don’t give a shit what Sukuna says and neither should you. If by some miracle he is able to get out of their pact, Gojo and Yuji would never let anything happen, and neither would you.” You press your forehead against his again since he still has a firm grip on your wrists to keep you from moving away from him. “I don’t care what you think, the safest place for me is right here with you. Sukuna is just bitter that he’s in a cage so he’s decided to make it everyone else's problem.” Megumi chuckles lightly again before releasing your hands and replacing his arms around your waist.

“We should go to bed, you have class in the morning.” He sighs. You crane your neck to see it’s well past 2 am, you stretch again to release the last couple of cracks in your spine and your boyfriend takes the opportunity to nip at your collarbones and make you squirm against him.

“If you stop doing that I’ll stay home with you instead, deal?” He jerks his face away from your chest and gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Are you sure? You have exams this week right?”

“There’s no point in going to a lecture if I’m just gonna fall asleep. I’ll study for my exams tomorrow after I wake up, but I’m planning on sleeping in tomorrow. Both of us need it.” He hums in agreement before trying to lift himself off the couch with you still in his arms. You gasp in surprise as you feel him wobble and stumble back into the couch cushions, tucking you into his neck with a hand to the back of your head to keep your faces from colliding.

You look at each other and let out a chorus of laughter. You shake your head before pinching his nose gently. “For someone so smart, you are so fucking dumb sometimes.” He scrunches up his face and swats your hand away as you peel yourself out of his arms and off his lap.

“You know, I’ve done it before and I was confident I could do it again. Also, I gotta keep my pretty girl on her toes.” This time it was your turn to swat his hand away as he grabbed at your thighs and rear. You rolled your eyes comically at him and moved towards the bedroom. He jumps up, throws you over his shoulder, before unceremoniously plopping you on the bed with a speed you’ve only ever seen him possess. He hovers over you as he presses his mouth against you in a rushed, teeth-clashing kiss. You push at his shoulder so he can dramatically flop on his back and open his arms expectantly.

“Give me a sec to change, I’ll be right back.” He whines like a child when you grab your pajama shorts and a tank top from the top of the dresser and stride into the bathroom. You’ve never known anyone to be as handsy as Megumi. He hates PDA and would never in a million years let strangers see through his cold, tough exterior. In the comfort of your home though, you quickly learned that he can never keep his hands to himself and they tend to wander on their own. He always wants to be touching you when you’re home together and he’ll whine and pout if he can’t. You can never find it in your heart to turn down his affection, especially on nights like this when he is feeling vulnerable and needs reassurance. Those nights are few and far between but you indulge your boyfriend in anything he needs whenever his facade starts to crack and you get glimpses of the version of him that he keeps carefully tucked away.

You pull your jeans and his sweater off and quickly throw your pajamas on. You toss your clothes into the basket from the door and find your boyfriend sprawled on your side of the bed scrolling through his phone. You poke the middle of his back and yank the blanket, covering him from the waist down, to what's supposed to be his side of the bed. His jaw drops in mock offense before he's pulling your front flush against his chest once again.

His lips latch onto yours again as he's tangling his legs with yours and threading his hands through your hair. You bring your hands under his shirt to stroke your fingertips lightly against his sides as his kisses grow needier and more urgent. One of his hands leaves your hair to grip your hips as he rolls his own into you desperately. You bring one hand to press against his chest lightly and move away from him for air.

“Baby please…” he looks like he's on the verge of begging. His heart pounds heavily under your fingers on his chest. You press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

“‘Gumi, you’re exhausted and very emotional right now, just go to sleep.” His bottom lip sticks out in a cute pout and you lift your hand to run your thumb over his protruding bottom lip. “I promise I will be here in the morning and we have all day tomorrow to hang out and do anything you want.”

His brows quirk up and his mouth pulls into a smirk. “Anything?” He drops his head to try and catch your lips again but you evade him.

“Anything, if you go to sleep right now and wait ‘til morning.” He scrunches his nose up and huffs pathetically before moving to tuck one arm under your head and wrap the other around your waist protectively. You nuzzle your face into his chest to breathe in the usual smell of cedar-wood and a lingering scent of rain. One of your hands is tucked under his jaw while the other slips back beneath his shirt to keep tracing patterns up and down his sides. He shivers at the featherlight touch of your fingertips but melts into the hand you have on his face.

You can feel his breath growing more rhythmic and you glance up to see his eyes fluttering shut. You press one last kiss to his jaw before murmuring a quiet “I love you” into his chest. He squeezes the arm that's around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too baby. I promise I’ll always protect you.”

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fluff #anime #fanfic #megumi fic #megumi x reader

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malkumtend · 3 years ago

Text

Warmth - set in the ILYL universe (set between ch. 12 and ch. 13).

Art by @lonely-ghost-606

Windclan cats had been able to adapt to many things. Their legs, long and tight with muscle, gave them the strength and speed needed to chase rabbits and hares. They could fix their senses to the breeze that split through the grass, breathing in the wafts of prey that waited tree-lengths away. And their sleek, thin coats allowed them to rush through the moorlands, and not feel heat swell through layers of useless fur, even when the sun was hot and angry above Silverpelt.

Crowpaw was proud to say he had reaped the rewards of each of these benefits.

However, as his small, unprotected by fur, paws crunched through the blanket of snow, he really wished Windclan had discovered ways to fight the cold.

But they hadn’t. Often enough, they were warmed by their sheer raid movement on the moors, so rain hardly gave them a problem. And snow was a rarity among the clans themselves.

Here, in the mountain air, where the sky grew dark and the air descended into a bitter mist, where snow lined the rock like white, frozen moss, Crowpaw wasn’t so lucky.

His paw dug into the unbroken white once more, and the damp freeze clawed him once again. He winced as cold ran it’s tongue up his leg, then glared into the winter horizon, seeing the acres of snow they still had to navigate.

“Crowpaw?” Crowpaw hissed back a growl as he looked up at Brambleclaw. The Thunderclan tom had stopped, strong paws not even shivering as he waited in the snow. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stop to find some shelter?”

Every cat, all thick furred and stationary, looked back at the apprentice. They all shared the embarrassed look of pity.

Crowpaw’s ears burned, but even that offered no help to his shaking back. “I’m fine!” Crowpaw said, he had to grin his teeth so he didn’t stutter. “It’s not that cold!” The worst part was that was true. There was no snow falling, just a plethora of short, but cutting gusts of wind. It would undeniably get colder when the dusty afternoon sky began to darken. Crowpaw groaned. He didn’t even want to think about that.

“Sure.” Stormfur muttered.

Crowpaw tried not to hiss. I’d like to see how you do without all that fur, fish-breath!

Feathertail glared at her brother then faced Crowpaw worriedly. “Crowpaw, it really doesn’t matter. None of us would mind.”

“Feathertail’s right.” Tawnypelt agreed. “It’ll do you no good to push yourself, Crowpaw. It’s only going to get worse from here.” She mewed with a whip of her tail. “It’ll be better if you keep your strength.”

“I said I’m fine!” Crowpaw meowed, stamping his forepaw furiously. He cringed when he hit a fresh patch of snow. “I-I don’t need to rest! If you all do, that’s your problem. I’ll just carry on by myself!” With that, he began to storm past the cats, trying to use his anger to heat the chill biting his paws. It grew with every disbelieving or piteous look he was able to catch.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Stormfur snapped, shaking his head as Crowpaw passed him with a quiet snarl.

Crowpaw was about to say something bitter, but most of his energy was saved for trying to keep himself warm. He sighed drearily, watching with a frown as his breath blew away in a vapor of steam.

He kept his head high, for some reason thinking that would help him conserve heat if he kept his head away from the snow. It wasn’t working. Crowpaw bit his lip in frustration, but he didn’t stop. He may have hated being half-frozen, but he hated being pitied more than anything. He’d rather sleep furless in icy water than be the reason the group stopped for a moment.

The Two-legs pillaging Winclan wouldn’t wait for him. He couldn’t either.

However, the constant, slithering powder of frost that made his back hurt was just as merciless.

Little by little, Crowpaw slowed down in his walk again. The cats he had proudly stormed ahead of began to pass him again, one by one, this time keeping their mouths shut. It was clear anything they said would just make it worse for their prickly accomplice.

Still, each one’s warm, fleecy coat of fur looked swollen with regret that that they couldn’t give him any help.

He heard Feathertail mew something soft to him, but by then Crowpaw’s ears were pounding with humiliation.

He could just imagine Mudclaw’s face. The abject disgust at how pathetic his apprentice had turned out to be. Look at you! Your father picks you to represent our great clan and you whither like a wet kit!

Crowpaw’s steps only slowed as the even colder voice persisted in his brain. No surprise, his decreasing pace only made the strength to continue even weaker. Every step now felt as heavy as pulling his body out of a pool of mud.

He growled quietly. Stupid snow. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t suited to this mouse-brained weather. A defeated sigh left him like a spirit. No. If he could truly call himself a Warrior, he should have just been able to grit his teeth and bare it. And even though he could bare it, he knew he was slowing them all down.

He was making Windclan look like a liability.

Crowpaw tried to not look like that hurt him as much as he did. He closed his eyes, gnashing his jaws. He just needed to carry on at this point. Sulking wouldn’t make him look any less of a complete rabbit-heart. He kept his eyes to the snow, determined to not remind himself of the contrast of his and his journeymates wills.

His ear perked however, when he heard snow crunch beside him. He just caught the ginger and white paws that bounded effortlessly in the snow until they were right beside him.

Crowpaw sighed, feeling his ears go hot. “What is it, Squirrelpaw?” He said curtly.

“What?” A snappy voice replied. “Can I not walk with you now?”

Crowpaw kept himself from getting angry. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s fault he was useless. “Don’t be mouse-brained.” He said. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. I just wanted to talk to you.” Her voice shifted cheekily. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Shouldn’t I just.” Crowpaw rolled his eyes. He caught her then. She looked remarkably unperturbed by her environment. She strode through the snow as if it was new-leaf grass. But maybe that was the benefits of having such a fluffy coat like she did. Crowpaw looked ahead. “Shouldn’t you try to catch up with the others?” They were at least half a tree-length ahead.

“Only if you feel like it.” Crowpaw frowned and Squirrelpaw had the sense to let her ears fold back guiltily. “Sorry. I know that Windclan aren’t really… suited for snow.” He could practically feel the burn of her eyes as they slid across his spiked, wimpy excuse of a coat.

Crowpaw felt the sudden need to jerk himself up. Looking so bad in front of his best friend was hardly a welcome thought. “I said it before; I’ll be okay.” He spoke. His tail swung forwards. “Don’t wait on me. Just carry on ahead.” The last thing he wanted to be was a burden.

“I’m not waiting on anyone. There’s no need to rush, after all.”

The very idea that she could rush in this made Crowpaw groan a little.

Squirrelpaw shrugged, pouncing ahead. “Cheer up. We’ll have to find some shelter soon. This mountain’s so big, there has to be thousands of places to sleep.”

Crowpaw scoffed. “Yeah, but since it’s so big how long will we have to walk until we find one of them.”

“It can’t be long now.”

So painfully optimistic. As the cold made his bones brittle, Crowpaw looked away. “Yeah. You keep thinking that.”

Squirrelpaw looked at him pointedly. Her eyes hadn’t lost their fire, if anything they looked even sharper. “Maybe it would help if you weren’t so moody. Would it really hurt you to think of something other than the worst of everything?”

Crowpaw’s tail flared. He couldn’t help but glare at his friend. “It’s easy for you to say, fuzz-ball!”

Squirrelpaw laughed mockingly, “Oh, that’s a new one. What? Jealous?” Her overwhelming coat seemed to shake with every spark of her words. She seemed to be more fur than cat!

Crowpaw flashed his teeth, “Not really. You should count yourself lucky. Without all that fur, you’d be smaller than a kit!”

“I’d still beat you in a fight, though!”

Crowpaw only scoffed again, turning away with a growl.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!” Squirrelpaw said frustratedly. “You can’t get angry at me for this.”

“You’re the one acting like a mouse-brain.” Crowpaw said monotonously.

There was gawking sound. “How? All I said was that it wouldn’t kill you to stop looking so angry. It’s hardly going to help you is it?”

“Oh, and if I smile like an idiot, I’m – what – just going to get all warm, fuzzy feelings.” Crowpaw bit his tongue as his head tittered in a mocking grimace. “Get over yourself.”

“You first.” Squirrelpaw muttered with the edge of a hiss. “No need to get nasty.”

Crowpaw didn’t reply. Talking to her was too much effort.

Besides, maybe now she’d join up with the others instead of seeing him like this.

She didn’t. They continued to walk. And for some reason, even though she had to be in better shape than him, she matched his pace the whole time. Crowpaw scanned the path ahead and exhaled slowly. There was still no sign of shelter. At least he hadn’t lost sight of the others.

It didn’t take long for his side to quiver. His nose creasing, he looked and his frown softened when he saw the ginger pelt still whiskers from his own. He could swear he could feel a small heat radiating from the bright strands of fur.

As that heat lingered, the silence became more suffocating.

“Look.” A soft voice made Crowpaw crane his head. “If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry.” Crowpaw blinked in shock. “I didn’t mean to.” He heard Squirrelpaw spit bitterly. “But that doesn’t give you the right to be like this. It’s not my fault your coat’s so thin.” She muttered. “I can’t make it grow, you know. It’s not like I want you to be cold.”

He lost valuable energy doing so, but Crowpaw’s head shifted to his side.

Her lips were in a thin pout, and her eyes were downcast in a bad mood. But she didn’t slow or quicken her pace. She kept right by him. Occasionally she would tilt her gaze, but stopped when she felt she was being watched.

Neither spoke. The quiet made Crowpaw cold inside.

Crowpaw bit his lower lip, ignoring the sudden twist in his stomach. As the bitter silence persisted however, he sighed to himself. She was right. It wasn’t like she’d tried to provoke him. All she’d done was try to keep him company and be the over-zealous molly she always was. She hadn’t started anything. Or at least she hadn’t tried to.

Even if she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut, she still was looking out for him. And even when snapped at she didn’t just leave him like he deserved. She accepted his moodiness. Maybe he needed to learn to accept her… quirks.

Besides, talking to her had made his mouth feel warm.

Crowpaw breathed, feeling the cold made him cough momentarily. When he’d stopped, he found Squirrelpaw looking at him with obvious concern. The tom’s face mellowed. “I know.” He said, looking forward, downcast. “I’m sorry too. I’m just sick of this cold.”

At his apology, Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched. Hesitantly, she faced him, the stiffness of her muzzle quivering just the slightest. She looked over his shivering frame again. She let out a soft breath. “If it’s bothering you that much, I can ask the others to stop.”

“We can’t do that.”

“But Crowpaw-”

“No.” Crowpaw affirmed. “I don’t want to slow anyone down.” He’d said it before he could take it back. He grunted at himself. He was so freezing, he didn’t even think about what he was saying.

“It isn’t slowing us down. They’d do the same no matter who it was.” Squirrelpaw said, her gaze warm.

Crowpaw let out a bitter laugh, “Maybe, but it wouldn’t happen to any of you.” He said tensely, using his shaking tail to point at his pelt.

Squirrelpaw’s jaw hung in sad recognition. She looked up at Crowpaw wordlessly, unable to offer a retort.

Crowpaw gave her a gentle nod. He knew she couldn’t counter that, no matter how much she wanted to. He resigned himself to carry on walking. If Squirrelpaw kept by him at this point, he counted himself lucky. He licked his chest a little to warm himself up, but bit on it softly as the organ began to freeze. He shook himself again; all he could do was keep moving.

He was just beginning to feel some kind of control over his stiffening tail again when he felt something knock into his side.

It wasn’t a hard push. Really it was just a pressing on his ribs. Crowpaw usually would have jumped away, but he stopped shot as he noticed the feeling the sudden presence gave. It felt softer than the moss that he used to line his nest, but it condensed the same kind of comforting, embracing warmth that he felt from his den. Without fully realising it, the frost that had made his ribs ache subsided to a blissful glow.

He turned to his side, and blinked stupidly when he saw what, or who, was the source of the heat.

Squirrelpaw wasn’t facing him, but her fur was pressed right into Crowpaw’s body. She walked, a little clumsily, next to him and, this close, Crowpaw felt just how woolly her coat truly was. It really did feel like she was made of fur. It slipped all over his side like a ray of sunlight. He really did feel his body begin to swell with her share of heat.

But the heat in his face was all his own. “S-Squirrelpaw?” He mewed incredulously.

“Hush.” Squirrelpaw said, her voice muffled for some reason. “If you’re going to be stubborn like this I might as well make sure you don’t hurt yourself doing it.”

“W-What?” Crowpaw felt something pound in the depths of Squirrelpaw’s side.

“Let’s just keep moving.” The Thunderclan apprentice mewed, “I can’t just let you freeze. Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t need to do this for long. We can’t be far from shelter now.” There was a silent plead in the cavern of her tone. Crowpaw could feel her muscles tense. She was looking quickly at him, as if checking that he didn’t rip himself from her.

There were many reasons that he should: clan loyalty, personal embarrassment, how fast his heart was-

Crowpaw gulped, his eyes still on the smaller cat. He saw her swallow hard and noticed her stiff, vacant expression as she kept on walking. Crowpaw’s stomach churned.

She was embarrassed herself, but she worked through it for him.

Her head tipped back a little, and Crowpaw noticed the cute way that her nose twitched when she was nervous. Her fur still mingled with his, he could barely see his own coat wrapped inside the ginger fluff. Crowpaw’s tail swung from side to side. Did he really feel as calmly about this as he did? This… this wasn’t normal, was it? Even if they were friends, could they really…

Crowpaw took in a hot breath. He felt shaking at his side and looked down stunned. She wasn’t cold, was she? Why was she shivering like that? Was he that cold to touch? No. That was ridiculous. She hadn’t looked like that before. His body tingled with worry. His tail began to sway quickly, maybe it would be better if he started to rush ahea-

He blinked.

His fur quivered all over his body. This time with realisation.

He wasn’t freezing anymore.

How…How could that be? Was her fur actually that warm? He slowly looked down again, shocked by how seamless his neck felt now. There she was. Nestled against him, eyes burning with embarrassment, tail quivering behind her, her gait clumsy and stuttering.

She wasn’t cold though.

Crowpaw felt that much.

And if somehow she was, she hadn’t left him yet.

Crowpaw felt warmer.

Gently, he slipped his tail until it had intertwined itself with his friend’s. Squirrelpaw jerked, twisting her head up. Her lips trembled. “C-Crowpaw?”

Crowpaw was concerned that she’d pull away, so he offered her a small smile. “Sorry. I just thought I’d return the favour.” He pressed himself even closer to the soft pelt. Squirrelpaw let out a light squeak as Crowpaw’s tail embraced her own. His tail tingled as it cloaked itself in the brush of long fur. He winked at her. “Wouldn’t want you falling in the snow after all. I’d have to laugh at you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t speak for a moment. Dumbfounded.

Then her tail began to squeeze his like a soft paw.

And her lips curved into a grin.

“Careful,” She warned, her eyes half-closing. “I’ve seen you trip before. I can make it happen again.”

Crowpaw snickered. “You do that, you’re coming down with me.”

“Great! That way I can hold you down. I’ve always wondered how you would look with white fur!”

“Touche!” Crowpaw chuckled.

Squirrelpaw beamed, ready to start again with another silver quip.

“Squirrelpaw?”

The ginger cat opened her eyes, her grin slackening as she saw the smile on Crowpaw’s face. “Hmm?” She questioned, raising a brow.

“Thanks.” Crowpaw said. Genuine.

He just about felt a beat inside Squirrelpaw’s chest again. But she cut it off with a laugh that could make icicles fall. “Who are you and what have you done with Crowpaw?” He joined in, laughing until he was out of breath. Squirrelpaw smiled, her head almost underneath his chin. Her tail curled blissfully over his. “Don’t mention it, Crowfood.” She said, the gentleness betraying the nickname.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Crowpaw quipped, chuckling as Squirrelpaw nudged him away with her side.

But their tail still stayed linked, so they easily found each other again.

…

Not many people seemed interested, but fuck it. If people hate it they can tell me in the comments. For those that are interested, I hope you liked it.

#squirrelflight #crowfeather #squirrelcrow #crowsquirrel #warrior cats #warriors #I like your laugh #lonely ghost 606 #lonely-ghost-606

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

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13 Going on 30 pt.1

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfiction based off the movie 13 going on 30.

Summary: You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst and some suggestive content. But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also peter has no powers in this and some scenes will be changed to better fit Peter and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2759

I am so excited to share this fic with y’all! 13 going on 30 is one of my favorite comfort movies and I thought that adding Peter Maximoff to it would make it even better.

It was 1987 and your birthday party was next week. You were so excited you could barely contain yourself. You were turning 13, you were finally becoming a teenager. It was time to abandon all childish things and live a life of adventure and romance. One that all the movies told you was guaranteed once you became a teenager. You were writing in your notebook during lunch checking off the things you had already gotten for your birthday party. “Balloons, check. Party favors, check. The cutest outfit, check!”

“Your best friend in the whole world who is getting you the best present. Check!” Peter added as he sat down across from you, dropping his lunch tray down on the table. You just rolled our eyes at him.“So I was thinking for this year we should go to the arcade then get ice cream.” Peter muttered his mouth full of the school’s signature sloppy joe sandwich. “Cause if I eat too much ice cream before we play that dance game you love, I'm gonna get sick again.” Some of the sandwich meat dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You handed him a napkin to wipe it, not even disgusted at this point.

You and Peter had been best friends since birth. You had lived right next to each other as kids and you had done everything together. Learning how to walk, the loss of your first tooth, the first day of school. Always together no matter what. That’s what made you so nervous to tell him what was on your mind. “Actually, I was thinking of having a party this year.” You gave him a nervous smile.

“What?!” He choked out in the midst of a coughing fit having nearly choked on his milk. Kids turned around to look at him and you shushed him. ”Peter stop shouting.” You scolded through gritted teeth.

He spoke up again this time, his voice back to it’s normal level. “But it’s always just us.”

You winced, you had figured he was going to respond like this. “I know, I know. But hear me out.” Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lucy said she’d come to the party this year, and she’d bring Dylan! You know how much I like him.” You gushed and Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“How did you convince the most popular girl in school to come to your party?”

“Way harsh peter.” You reached over to his tray attempting to steal one of his fries. His hand slapped yours away. “You make it sound like she doesn't even know I exist.”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, you and I are at the bottom of the social food chain and you know it.” He pushed his chair back even further, now only balancing on two legs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” You defended.

He held your gaze with narrowed eyes as you tired your best to maintain eye contact. The minute you looked away he knew he had you. “I know you're lying (y/n). When you can’t look me in the eye you’re hiding something. Spill it.”

You muttered really quickly. “Imayormaynothavedoneherhomeworkforthepastmonth.”

He gave you an exasperated look. “What?”

“I said I may or may not have done her homework for the past month.”

He gave you a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. “ You pouted. “It was the only way she was going to bring Dylan.”

“I don't even know why you want that guy at your party. Or Lucy for that matter. They’re all a bunch of jerks.” Peter got up to put his tray away. You shoved your notebook back into your bag and got up to follow him.

“You don’t even know them Peter.”

“Neither do you.” You frowned at him before turning on your heel and walking away from him. “(y/n) wait.” You sped up and he sped up with you. He caught up to you and grabbed your arm. You refused to look at him.

Peter’s harsh look softened and his grip on your arm loosed. “Look.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “ I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I won’t especially not with my best friend around.” You bumped your shoulder into his. He returned your smile after a while and your face lit up. “It’s going to be fun!”

“If you say so.”

On the day of your party you couldn't even sit still for a single second. Pacing by the front door waiting for Lucy and her friends to arrive. The doorbell rang and you threw open the door, but your smile dropped when you saw it was just Peter. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Geez, it's good to see you too.” He pushed his way into your house as you closed the door behind him.

“Sorry I just thought it was Lucy.”

“And you were disappointed when it was me.” He joked making himself at home on your couch.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. Suddenly you get new friends and I’m old news. Hung out to dry. Dead and buried without a moment to grieve.” He milked his performance trying to make you feel guilty. You sat down next to him knocking his feet off your mother’s coffee table.

“Shut up.” You laughed, he watched you and smiled. You noticed the keyboard strapped to his chest and groaned. “Did you have to bring your keyboard?”

“Duh. It’s part of your gift.”

“I hope that’s not all you got me.”

“Hey!” He mocked being hurt by your words. “And it’s not by the way.” He sat up and made his way to your front door. “I gotta go get it, I left it on your doorstep.” He opened the door and was gone for a minute, making you anxious with anticipation. He poked his head through the doorway and a sweet smile plastered on his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You quickly covered your eyes with your hands. You heard Peter’s sneakers shuffling as he made his way closer to you. “No peeking.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, I can see you looking through the slits of your fingers.” You giggled at the accusation and squeezed your eyes even tighter. You felt the couch dip from his weight as he sat back down next to you. You feel his hands close around yours, and the small action making you blush. He carefully removed your hands from your eyes. “Ta-da!”

Sitting on the coffee table front of you was a huge handmade pink doll house. “I decided to make you your own (y/n) dream house.” Your eyes widened taking it all in. It was beautiful.

“Petey did you make all this?” You asked, heart swelling at the sweet action.

“Yeah,” He admitted a little embarrassed. He scooted closer to the table. “See that’s you in your bubble bath. Reading your favorite magazine” It was a Barbie doll with a picture of your face tape on it. You giggled.” And there’s your room with the giant closet you’ve always wanted and a huge stereo collection. I know how much you love music. And there’s that bum Rick Springfield, sitting on the couch.” As you took in all the details you fell even more in love with the house. Peter had put so much time into this and you adored it.

“And uh, there’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. A picture of him was glued to a piece of cardboard. His picture was making that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Rick Springfield. “I’m making sure that creep keeps his hands to himself. He’s only here for his musical talents, nothing else.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and for a second you could have sworn he glanced down at your lips. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled out a red packet and shook it lightly. “Wishing dust.”

You scooted closer to him so you guys could read the package together. “It says wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts. They’ll make all your dreams come true.” He whispered the last part, his eyes cast downward as you watched him rip open the package. He stood up and sprinkled the dust down on the house. You watched in wonder as all the different colors rained down together and decorated the whole house in a pretty shimmer. Your eyes met his and you could feel yourself tearing up. He was so sweet and he didn't even know how much this meant to you.

Just then the doorbell rang and you jumped to your feet. “They’re here!” You wiped away the tears that threatened to fall really quickly before dashing to the door.

“Yay.” Peter cheered sarcastically. You ignored him and sprinted to open the door. Lucy was there along with her friends and Dylan in the back. She was wearing a neon pink dress, the same one you had begged your mom to buy you last week. She had said no obviously.

“Hi Lucy! Thanks for coming!” She just gave you a tight smile and let herself in. She looked around your living room and a sneer made its way to her face when she saw Peter on your couch fiddling with his keyboard.

“Sup Freak.” Lucy shot Peter a sickly sweet smile.

“Sup slut.” Peter replied, mirroring her smile. You felt your mouth open in shock and shot him a deadly look. Lucy just pressed on trying to get a reaction out of Peter.

“I see your hair is still as gray and as ugly as ever.”

“At least my hair is naturally this color. From the look of your roots you should really look into getting a better stylist. You ain’t fooling anybody honey.”

They continued to glare at each other until Lucy finally broke away from his gaze and turned to face you. “Where is this party happening anyway.”

“It’s um downstairs, in the basement.” You motioned towards it, Lucy and her friends made their way down the steps. Peter followed them carrying your dollhouse, but you held your arm out to stop him. “What was that? Why were you being such a jerk?”

“She started it!”

You huffed. “I know, but it’s my party so please try to be nice to her.” He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He pushed past your arm and went down the stairs to the basement. Taking two at a time.

“So this is it.” Lucy picked at the neon colored table cloth. You didn't know what to say as she looked around. “What are we going to do anyway?”

“Well we could play twister, Peter is really good at it.” Peter gave a small salute in acknowledgement as they glanced towards him. “Or we could watch a movie.”’ You said excitedly, making your way over to the VHS rack.” I have a lot of good ones.``

“Lame.” Lucy announced and her friends echoed in agreement.

You felt embarrassed of thinking that they would enjoy such childish things. “Why don't we play a new game?” Lucy suggested.

“What kind of game?” Peter asked, suspicion laced in his tone.

“A fun one.” She made her way towards you and placed her hand on your shoulder as she turned to address Peter. “Not that you would know anything about fun Maximoff.”

“Not that you would know anything about fun.” Peter mocked back in a high pitched tone.

“Real mature.” Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to you. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.” She leaned in even closer. “You can go first (y/n), and I think you’ll like who you get.” She glanced back and you followed her gaze towards Dylan. He shot you a smile and you felt yourself blush.

All of a sudden you heard your mom. “(y/n)!” Your mother yelled down the stairs. “Your cake is here come and get it!”

“Peter go get it.” Lucy commanded.

“What? No.” He scoffed. You met his gaze and shot him a pleading look. “Fine.” He put the dollhouse away in your closet on the top shelf and made his way to the stairs. “Thanks Petey.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lucy took off her scarf from around her neck and placed it over your eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. She led you towards the closet and you felt your heart rate pick up. You could hear the giggles of her friends as they closed the door. You stood there in the darkness waiting for Dylan to come in. It had been a while since Lucy had led you to the closet, you sat down putting your arms around your knees hugging them close.

Peter came back down the stairs carrying your cake, as he was coming down Lucy was going up the stairs, her friends trailing behind her. “Hey where are you going?”

She didn't answer, just smiled at him placing a hand on his shoulder. “(y/n) is waiting for you in the closet.” He gave her a confused look, he didn't know he was part of this game. Lucy and her friends continued up the steps, Dylan swiped your cake with his finger smearing the icing and eating it. Peter yanked it away and continued down into the basement. Madonna was playing softly in the background, he put the cake on the table and made his way to the closet, opening the door. He saw you sitting there on the floor, you upon hearing the door squeak open were smiling up at him. “I didn't think you were going to come.”

He nervously smiled back at you and sat down on the floor across from you. You reached your hands out towards him. “Where are you?” He let his hands find yours, fingers intertwined in one another. He had held your hand before but this time it felt so different. He saw you lean in and he did the same. He was inches away from your lips when you whispered. “Oh Dylan.” He pulled back abruptly.

“It’s not Dylan, It’s Peter.” You yanked your hands away from his and tore the scarf away from your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You felt panic take over you. “Where is Dylan?”

“He left. They all did, no one is here.” You stood up and saw that Peter was right. Your snack table stood untouched and Lucy, and Dylan were no where to be found. You immediately turned on Peter. “What did you do?”

Peter looked at you in disbelief. “Nothing!”

“Yes you did!” You were screaming at him at this point.

“I just went to get your cake!” He screamed back.

“Get out.” you whispered. Peter looked at you, clearly hurt that you were pushing him away. “GET OUT!” You screamed as you pushed him out of the closet.

“(y/n) wait!” He tried holding the door open as you desperately tried shutting it. “(y/n) let me talk to you!”

“Peter stop.” You cried.

“(y/n)-”

“No!” You managed to shut the door and lock it. You sat back down on the floor and put the blindfold back over your eyes.

“(y/n) Please!” You could hear Peter on the other side of the door even with your hands covering your ears. “Please come out!”

“I hate you!” You screamed as his voice stopped.

“You don’t mean that.” He muttered, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“Yes I do! I hate you! I hate me! I hate everything!” You were so angry and embarrassed and that you really thought Lucy was your friend. And that you were going to get to kiss Dylan.

“(y/n) what are you talking about?”

“I want to be thirty!” You wailed through your tears.

“Just let me play you this song.” Peter yelled back. He slung his keyboard over his head and started to mess with it trying to find the right key. “It’ll make you feel better!”

You ignored him continuing to cry. “I wanna be thirty! I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.” You swing your head back shaking the shelf behind you. The wishing dust from the dollhouse fell down all around you but you didn't even notice. You could faintly hear Peter playing some tune on his keyboard but you ignored it. Just muttering through your tears over and over how you wanted to be thirty, flirty and thriving. At the moment you wanted to be anywhere but there.

#quicksilver xmen #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel fanfiction #13 going on 30 #13 going on 30 au

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lovelypale · 4 years ago

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Narcotics // Addict!Senjuro x Dealer!Reader

Warnings: 18+, drug use, addiction, toxic relationship, suicide mention, it’s consensual but I’m gonna say dubcon just in case, mostly plot with a bit of spice, Senjuro is college aged.

Words: 1600

a/n: Had this idea plaguing me and I just needed to get it out. Sensitive topic here (as if I write anything that isn’t) but yeah may or may not give these two a happy or sad ending. Let me know I guess!

You opened the door to the large figure in front of you, dripping from the downpour that was tearing through the city. He was imposing in stature but still very skinny otherwise; a very meek man. He was shivering, but you had a feeling that it wasn't from the rain.

"Why did you take the last train?" You tested the water with a small opener. It was very curious that he would show up so late, again. He knows what he's here for, but you wanted him to say it himself.

He opened his mouth to speak but ultimately couldn't, instead opting for a shaky wave. You scoffed and opened your door wider for him before leaving to get a towel. When you returned he was still at the door, still shaking, still appearing utterly helpless. You handed him the towel and he took it from you, still avoiding your eyes. Everything was silent.

"I'm not selling to you anymore Senjuro."

He continued to stand there, blond and red locks frayed and dripping water on the floor. He looked beautiful, always does, it was a talent that even helpless and strung out he still looked breathtaking. He nodded and hugged himself tighter. "I'm sorry. I'll do anything, please."

"You don't want anything from me." You put your hand against his cheek and felt his cool trembling against your warm skin. He was desperate again. He said he was going to quit plenty of times but he would always end up right back at your doorstep. You watched him grow from a slightly misguided kid to a truly fucked over adult. He barely knew his mom, dad's an alcoholic, and his brother seems alright but he was always busy teaching. You're sure he's messed up like everyone else and is just the type to let things fester in secret but Senjuro doesn't know that. He thinks he's the problem, the only one that couldn't cope, that can't contribute in the way that his older brother does. It messed with him so badly that it led him to you. The school's dealer. Not only can you make the pain disappear, you can make it feel good.

He doesn't need to feel good. He needs to never see you again.

"I can't stop shaking, my family will notice. Please."

"I hope you know they’d hate what you do for this more than the actual drugs itself." He looked at you with his dull red eyes through his foggy glasses, you remember when they used to sparkle. He wasn't like you, he was always so motivated and happy. At some point you used to envy his shy and upbeat demeanor.

"I understand." He smiled at you but it looked eerie and unnatural. He wasn’t lying about his shaking though, it really did look bad.

You shook your head at him and sighed, turning around to a side room to check your supply. Lucky him, you had exactly what he needed. You took just one and dropped It in his palm. He looked at you confused. "I told you I'm not selling you shit anymore. You're getting one to tide you over, other than that I don't want to see you here ever again. Get help."

He looks at you with a plea in his eyes as he gently grabs your arm. "I don’t think I have anyone else y/n, please don’t leave me alone.”

"That's not my problem, do you even have money anymore?" You pushed away from him and he quickly latched back on to you. Your heart strained in your chest, you always hated this part. This stupid hug he gave you that brought you back to your youth, the days of being in high school when he hugged you before running off to his friends. This was always just business to you but he walked into your life and you’ve felt increasingly responsible for him since. It felt less and less like making money and more like assisted suicide.

He placed the pill in his mouth and pulled himself even closer to you, ''Anything." You felt his still wet body pressed against you and you knew this fight was over.

You sighed before pulling away from him and walking to your room. He followed you, knowing exactly how this routine went. He watched you kick off your pants and your underwear. You sat on your bed in nothing but your top and watched him with guilty eyes. He was pretty, even with fading hair and way less weight than he started with he was gorgeous to you. Usually people as deep as him don’t maintain as well but he managed to keep his baby face. He looks tired, the type of tired sleep can't fix, but at least you can't tell that he's sold his life away for a drug. At least not yet, but he's getting there.

You know you're taking advantage of him, but he's also hoping you do. He’s always been a people pleaser and you can’t say no to letting him please you. It started with him running you drinks to making out in your car and now...Terrible. As sinister as this courtship is, neither of you truly want to stop. You loved him, but not enough to stop him from hurting himself. "Hurry up, you have an 8 AM tomorrow."

“I dropped that course.”

You stared at him with pure pain in your eyes. “Of course you did.”

He peels himself out of his wet clothes with a slight sway to his form, you can tell whatever issues that plague him are starting to float away. As usual, he keeps his glasses on. He smiles at you with weird reverence, like he's thankful that you're going to be the one to ultimately kill him. Your hand immediately takes hold of his pretty cock. Long, curved, and pink at the tip. You swirled your thumb around his tip as he patiently waited for you to tell him what to do. You made languid movements up and down his twitching dick, thinking to yourself that you should probably do something before he's completely spaced out.

"Lay down." He listens and slowly gets on your bed before giving his attention back to you. You can never seem to get over how dainty he looks, it makes you feel even worse about your little situation. You get on top of him and he instantly starts bucking against you, not really even aiming for anything, just trying to get the burning sensation on his skin to cool down. You didn't prep but you didn't need to, taking him was easy. Power and pity is two things you've learned to sexualize when it comes to him. His vulnerability had to be hot or else it would quickly become sad.

His legs squirm underneath you from the building sensitivity. He utters small "thank you" and gasps as you move up and down his dick. His slight curve rubbed against your upper wall, causing you to be noisier than you'd like to be. He's getting warmer and warmer, feeling found inside of you. The world is fading off into something more obscure, something that isn't tangible. Your hips feel plush against his palm, he's digging down and tearing into your skin but he knows you’ll forgive him for it.

You watch him writhe in ecstasy, getting closer and closer to his high. He looked so beautiful with his hair all over your bed and his glasses threatening to fall off completely. You never get a warning with him, your orgasms are always so sudden and violent. Your thighs squished his as you curled into yourself, he was still thrusting, seeking his own relief. You thought you were going to pass out from the feeling of him still plunging deep inside of you. "S-stop."

You pulled off of him and wrapped your hand around his sticky cock again, not wanting to leave him hanging. He seemed to be capable of the job on his own, thrusting into your warm palm with pure joy. "I'm getting close-." You didn't give him the chance to finish his sentence before you changed your hand motion to a slight twist. He came almost instantly in your grasp, you flinched from the slight splatter against your face as you continued to move your hand. He struggled to look at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

You let go and grabbed the same towel you gave him to dry off. "You always say sorry so much, stop it." You knew he probably didn't hear that, he was past the point of holding an intelligible conversation. There's nothing but the sound of your sheets moving underneath his squirming body and the sound of faint moaning, it wasn't a pretty sight but you're used to it.

You watched him move around until he eventually stayed completely still, fully enraptured by his high. He was going to be stuck like this for a few hours. You shook your head, admonishing yourself for even letting him in. You can't keep giving him drugs, and you especially can't keep letting him pay you like this. You grabbed his glasses and put it on your dresser so he wouldn’t crush it, in that moment his phone lit up and you saw the message, it was his brother. His friends stopped asking where he disappeared to a long time ago, it was truly only Kyojuro that still cared about where he went to at night. He has to know the reason why his brother is slipping away.

Hey! I finished grading tests early and picked up your favorite on my way home. I was hoping I could talk to you tonight but don’t worry about it! Your food is in the fridge. Wherever you are, stay safe. We care about you.

You winced at the message and decided to respond for him. Thank you, I'm staying with a friend to study tonight. I'll be back tomorrow.

Nothing but routine.

#senjurou x reader #senjuro #rengoku #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #senjuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #plot makes me thirsty I'm sorry guys #as usual if you see any mistakes no you didn't

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dragon-of-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Puzzling

My Masterlist

Part 5 to Cracking a Code

1; 2; 3; 4

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching, caregiving, but like by Steve, so not really, self-harm references (previous chapter, not premeditated), discussion of eating

Summary: Steve takes you home to “take care” of you.

A/n: I’m not super happy with this chapter… and maybe I’ll redo it sometime in the future, but I just wanted to give you an update. Sorry, that everything takes so long!

Word count: 2,300

The rest of the drive passed in a blur. Steve’s hand hardly left your thigh and you let him. You were so exhausted, you didn’t have the energy to fight him off anymore. You felt yourself retreating into your body, away from the reality of being groped in the fancy sports car of America’s bravest hero.

Steve helped you up the steps to your apartment. You’re entire body was shaking, leaving you on unsteady feet. If you didn’t know better you’d say you were coming down with a fever. But the reason for the shivers coursing through you was so much larger. Not something a few pills could fix. Steve gently led you into your home, almost as if he owned the place, deposited you on the couch, and covered you in a blanket. As he tucked you in, his hands respectful and his touch kind you surfaced for a brief second out of the hole of despair his comment in the car had put you in.

“There you are, angel.” Steve smiled as he noticed how your eyes started to focus a bit. “I’ll make you something to eat. I’ll be right back.” With that, he leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, before retreating to your kitchen. You watched him rummage around in the tiny space adjoining your living room. He looked at ease, at home, and oh so loving. Did yesterday really happen? you wondered. There they were again. Those thoughts you had to brandish all day yesterday as well. You started to stare off into the middle distance; once more slipping away from reality and the physical pain left in your body. You heard Steve tut slightly, the fridge door opening and closing, then the same sound from a bunch of your cabinet doors. Just as you wanted to call out to him, to ask if he needed help, a robotic response drilled into you by your mother, Steve appeared before you almost as if out of thin air. His gait as silent as any other predator’s.

“Darling,” he sounded concerned, “did you eat yet?”

You looked up at him, doe-eyed. “I.. uh… I must have. I have some overnight oats in the fridge, so if there are only three glasses in there, then yeah.” To be honest you couldn’t remember, nothing made sense.

“There’s four, darling… You really gotta eat breakfast! It’s important to keep your strength up, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah… I usually do. I promise” Why do I not wanna make him sad? Why do I want him to be proud of me? You thought bewildered, as you looked into Steve’s worried eyes before all semblance of structured thought left you again to the tide of confusion washing over you and pulling you under.

“Ok, babe, I trust you. I’ll make some now, okay? You just sit tight.” All you could do was nod. It was like it was all happening to someone else. You weren’t really here. You were so far away and so present at the same time that it hurt.

As Steve left you your mind went to war with itself.

Steve wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t the hero on those posters, was he? But he was making you breakfast, he tucked you in. He sent Bucky to check on you. No… No, he sent Bucky to make sure you didn’t go to the police. Right? Right.

You could feel your mind shut off, drawing you down with it. All that happened, Steve’s non-linear behavior pushing you over the edge. Nothing made sense.

You barely noticed as Steve fed you breakfast, bite by bite, all that registered somewhere deep within you was his calm, deep guiding voice: “One more bite, there you go, good girl” all his encouragement mushing together in your brain, a soothing sensation flowing through your pain-addled brain.

After breakfast, you could feel Steve manipulate your body, as he wrapped himself around you and put on your favorite movie. As you lay there engulfed in the arms of this giant man, accompanied by the sounds of the movie you had watched a million times, you slowly started to become aware of yourself again. The body heat was so soothing and Steve’s deep humming voice pushed the fear that had kept you paralyzed further and further away. Making way for a seething rage, fickle but growing. As you tensed and readjusted your limbs Steve leaned forwards and kissed your temple. “I knew you were still in there, angel. I made some tea. It should still be hot. I put it in a thermos. Let’s talk okay?” Steve carefully helped you sit, every touch his, stoking the anger burning through you. Then, oblivious to the shift in your mood, he got up to grab the tea and cups as you looked around as if you were seeing your place for the first time. It no longer held the feeling of safety that comes with any good home. All you could see was Steve controlling you, in the TV that was slightly turned, the smell of his cologne on your couch, the dirty pans in the sink.

When Steve came back, your head was much clearer and you carefully reached for your cup and made sure to keep your distance from Steve as subtly as you could. Whatever was to come, was going to be important.

“You know darling, you will have to be nicer to Bucky. He’s only trying to help when I can’t be there. New York is dangerous, always has been. No one knows that better than me and Buck. He texted me, saying you were really rude on the train this morning, and quite frankly, darling, I’m disappointed that I even have to say this, but you have to appreciate what we do for you, okay?” Steve’s voice is calm, collected, and rational. There is nothing but honest concern in it for a moment it disrupts the anger building within you. “It’s time to play nice with Bucky now, okay? Be nice to him, maybe even as nice as you have been for me, understand?”

It’s the last sentence that sets you off, Steve’s expectant gaze, belittling you, that makes you blow your lid.

“What? What are you talking about? Play nice? I wasn’t being nice to you! I don’t want your protection or your attention, or Bucky’s for that matter!” Your voice is rising, as you grip your cup of tea so tight its heat sears your palms. “Get out of my life!” you yell. Then like a bucket of cold water realization sets in. Every muscle in Steve’s body tightens, you see his body expand with the change, looming over you, blacking out the window. You expect Steve to yell, beat you up, but when you dare to look up at his face, it is almost passive, but there is danger burning beneath his façade.

“I understand this is difficult for you.” Steve’s voice turns harder with every word. You notice the missing pet name like a slap to your face. “But I am getting pretty tired of this conversation. You need to rain in that attitude of yours, okay? Because I won’t tolerate you being a spoiled brat who doesn’t see what’s best for them. I’m looking out for you here, taking care of you, something you apparently struggle with,” with that Steve gestures at the remnants of your breakfast, the one he had to make for you, “and all I expect in return is some gratitude, towards me and towards Bucky. This is not up for discussion. And if you can’t behave, you’ll have to deal with the consequences, young lady. Is that understood?” By the end of his speech, Steve has risen to his feet, towering over you, his voice booming to fill your apartment, while you cower into the sofa. Your breathing is shallow and you are petrified. It feels too much like last night. When you didn’t have a choice either. And everything he was saying was making sense. New York was dangerous. And you really were terrible at feeding yourself correctly… Those oat thingies were just the newest thing you were trying in your never-ending quest to live more healthily… Usually, your job took preference over clean living. And Bucky hadn’t done anything to you either. He’d just been there to watch out for you… Steve, well… Steve really had done that, but he also held you today, when your brain shut down and made you food. He could have just left you at work, where you surely would’ve gotten nothing done or even caused trouble if you fucked up your work…

Shakily you nod and watch some of the tension leave Steve’s body and he crouches down in front of you. “Good, I knew you were smart like that. Now we can either go have a bath and soothe your body or you can freak out again and then I swear I’ll make you bear the consequences of your behavior for real this time. So what’s it gonna be, princess?”

You stare at him for a second. How is he so rational? Why does this all make sense? Authority has always been your weakness, and so you just nod because what the Captain says goes, and you learned that the hard way, and let Steve lead you to the bathroom. Maybe you will get to lay in his arms again and hear him praise you. It felt so good when he held you on the couch. You were safe in his arms. All you want is to be back in his embrace. Where the harsh reality can’t hurt you. So you allow Steve to strip you down, as hot water pours into your tub.

Suddenly Steve’s grip on your hip tightens painfully, as yanks your jeans off of you. You look down, scared, and find him staring at the bruises you must have caused yourself in the shower this morning when you were trying to wash the night away. “What is this? Explain, now!” he seethes and turns his scorching gaze towards you.

“I, when I showered, I, I just wanted to get clean…” you stammer.

“Clean? Clean! You hurt yourself! Jeez! How dare you do something like that to yourself? I really can’t let you out of my sight for one second, can I? Gotta watch you like a little kid!”

You feel a pang in your heart. You weren’t trying to be bad! You want to tell Steve, but he just turns off the water, grabs your upper arm, and drags you from the bathroom into your bedroom. As you stumble after him, you try to figure out what is happening.

“Steve?” you plead as he sits down on the bed and puts you over his lap.

“No, darling, not anymore. I have been way too kind to you so far, but apparently, the nice approach doesn’t work with you. So discipline is what you get.” He thunders, and then his hand is hitting your bum with enough force to make you scream. It happened so fast that your head is spinning.

As you lie across his lap everything felt like it’s wrapped in cotton. So much skin-to-skin contact fries your over-worked and touch-starved brain into submission as Steve’s hand is raining down on your ass, painting it crimson. You burst into tears without any control over yourself. “Steve,” you sob, “Steve please, I didn’t mean to, I swear, Steve!” and just as those words leave your mouth, he stops, picks you up, and hugs you close. Your nerve endings sing at the close contact and you sag into him, all tension leaving your body. His hands draw soothing circles on your back as he holds you tight.

“I got you baby.” Steve whispers as he settles you on the bed, “I know that hurt, but I needed you to see, you know?”

You cry and nod, burrowing into his hulking form hovering over you.

“I’ll make it better baby, I’ll make it all good, now,” Steve murmurs, as he leans in to kiss your forehead, while his right hand comes down and starts to play with your clit. “Oh darling, look at you! You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Only then do you register the slick coating your thighs, embarrassed you want to turn from him, but Steve cages you in. “It’s okay babe, no reason to be shy about it. There is nothing wrong with wanting your man. Really, it just shows that you understand my discipline with you. I’m real proud of you, angel, real proud.” He mutters as he spreads your lips and slips two fingers in. You can’t help but moan and arch into him.

Steve is nothing but kind and soft with you as he readjusts both of your bodies until he sinks into your heat, and you both moan in unison. “There we go, darling. See how good I can be for you? There we go.” As he starts moving, slow and deep within you peace settles over you. “I’ll make you forget all that pain, babe, it’ll all be gone in just a minute now.” His fingers are rubbing circles around your clit while he keeps murmuring sweet encouragements into your ears as you climb and climb towards an orgasm that is so deep that it leaves you boneless in Steve’s arms until he finishes with a broken grunt deep inside of you. As Steve settles you in his arms after you can’t remember the last time you felt this sated, as you drift into a deep sleep with Steve’s spend slowly trickling out of you. For a split second, before you fall asleep the horror of what is happening to you is clear in your mind, but then, thankfully, once more your exhaustion pulls you under.

#marvel #dark!fic #dark fic #fic #fan fic #captain america #modern!au #Steve Rogers #dark!Steve Rogers #dark Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #dark Steve Rogers x reader

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