#since i never felt a need to force part 2 to life if it's not needed
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Whumpee & His Collar part 2
Warnings: tight collar around Whumpee's neck, severely restricted breathing, mentions of beating and past torture & conditioning, panic attack and choking
The collar was tight around his neck, digging into his skin with every strained breath he took.
"Oh honey, I promised I wouldn't hurt you here, and I keep my promises," Caretaker tried to soothe. "Why don't you want the collar off?"
"What did I do wrong?" Whumpee choked out.
"What did you... do wrong?" Caretaker echoed, confused. "You did nothing wrong, Whumpee -- what gave you that impression?"
Whumpee pointed with a shaky finger to the collar around his neck. "Y-You were going to take it off, which means I did something horrific and need to be thoroughly punished for it." He couldn't understand why, but he saw Caretaker's eyes fill with sad tears.
"I... think I understand now. But you're not with Whumper anymore," Caretaker spoke softly. "New house, New rules, okay? You will never be hurt here. Not even with your collar off."
Whumpee found it hard to believe her words. His entire life revolved around this collar, it gave him a clear sense of direction and purpose. So that he would always know what to expect at any given time, depending on how tight it was strapped around his throat.
But Caretaker hadn't done anything with it in all the time since his rescue. So... maybe she was telling the truth...
Whumpee's chest was heaving with the effort to keep breathing by now, his mouth gaped open as he gasped and choked on sobs.
"Whumpee, please -- you're going to pass out if you keep it up. Please let me take it off. I promise I won't hurt you, and I will always love and care for you. Do you trust me?" Caretaker reached her hands out toward him, pausing a few inches away as though waiting for permission to make contact. Giving Whumpee a choice, to accept or deny her help.
Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut tight, terrified beyond belief, but forced himself to give a shallow nod. But he still reflexively flinched when he felt Caretaker's warm hands gently cup his face, a soothing and comforting presence.
"You're going to be okay, Whumpee, just breathe..."
Whumpee tried his absolute best to obey, he really did, to be good and perfect for her -- but it was just so difficult with the tight collar in place, his situation worsened by the panicked hyperventilating. He felt Caretaker's hands gently slide down from his jaw to his neck, carefully fiddling with the clasp keeping the collar on him.
The fear washed over him all over again, but he managed to hold still as Caretaker finally unbuckled the collar and took it off completely. Cold air hit the skin where the collar always rested for the first time in weeks, a sensation so unnatural and foreign to him.
Then there were strong arms around him, pulling him away from the wall he was curled up and cowering against and into a fierce hug.
“You're so brave, Whumpee, so so brave” Caretaker praised comfortingly, running a soothing hand through his hair in the way she knew he liked most.
Whumpee trembled like a fragile leaf in her arms with a whine, burying his face into her shoulder, and clinging to her desperately like a lifeline. It felt different to be able to properly breathe again, so strange after he'd gotten used to the calculated, measured breaths he'd take whenever the collar was on.
He gulped it down greedily, sucking in as much fresh air as he could with each deep breath. Caretaker was right, it felt so much better to have the torturous collar off.
“Y-You're not going to abandon me now that's it off, are you?” Whumpee asked quietly, his voice wobbly and uncertain.
“Never, Whumpee, never,” Caretaker answered firmly. There was no hesitation whatsoever in her tone, and Whumpee wanted to cry again – in gratitude this time instead of fear.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Caretaker,” Whumpee mumbled into her shoulder.
“Always,” Caretaker whispered into his ear. An eternal promise, one that she would forever keep.
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I know the fic is like 2 years ago (damn that’s long) and i beg. May i request a pov of cale in the next life? It would add more salt to the wound reading his pov TvT
Oh wow, has it been 2 years already? I didn't expect people to still remember that piece haha
I do have a sequel planned for it actually which is also written in Cale's perspective, but it won't be a retelling of that scene but of something else... 👀
#chatter#to be honest the next life was written to be a 2 part story#but after finishing the first part i realised it could be read standalone as well#so part 2 has been sitting in my drafts for years#since i never felt a need to force part 2 to life if it's not needed#except i didn't expect people to want to read more#i guess i'll dust it off and finalise it if people really want to see it?#i don't know i'm being battered by work so it's difficult to write nowadays#i hope you all are having a great 2023 nonetheless
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# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!
CHAPTER ii. [9.1k words]
୨���┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader
୨୧┊synopsis: the shopping trip you were forced to go on with Toji doesn't go exactly as planned.
୨୧┊warnings: taboo cw! + semi-smut + age difference (reader is 19 and toji is 34 ) + slow burn + one-sided pining + attempt at humor + slice of life + reader takes multiple L's + megumi is mentioned + reader gets objectified (not by toji) + toji is a serial hoe
୨୧┊a/n: make sure to check out my main post! ive included a pinterest board for everything described + a playlist ♡
MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part ii.
You didn't know if it was a blessing in disguise, or a curse. Perhaps a cruel joke the world was playing on you like it always did. Yet here you were again, your knee high fluffy socks skidding across the oakwood flooring of your room, scouring through your closet like a deranged cat looking for something to wear on today's decor run.
"Shoes, shoes…I'm missing shoes," digging through the furthest corner in the enclosed space of your closet, you spotted an unopened box on one of the shelves. It was a simple pair of heeled, white mary janes with a heart buckle. You got it 2 birthdays ago but never saw an opportunity to wear them, until now.
Your mother told you that Toji was picking you up at 10:30 am despite you telling her that you would go after lunch.
'He's a busy man. He said this is the only time he's free today.'
"Yeah, of course he is. Always busy doing God knows what." Sighing, you decided on your ensemble for this morning. It was rushed and unplanned, but it would have to do.
Looking at the time on your phone, you saw that it was 10:15. You've still got 15 more minutes left till Toji arrives to pick you up. Letting out a breath, you sat on your bed, shoe cladded toes tapping the floor as your knee bounced, restlessly waiting.
Going over to your floor length mirror, you checked over your choice of outfit once more. It wasn't too cold of a day, so you opted for a knitted long sleeved, off-the-shoulder, cream toned sweater dress that hugged your curves. With its hem stopping just right underneath your ass.
You were debating between thigh highs or leg warmers, but decided leg warmers looked better scrunched down on your ankles with the shoes you opted to wear. You didn’t do much with your hair last night since you were only at home, but since you were going out in public today, you felt like doing something with it. Something cute specifically, as you opened your vanity drawer deciding which accessory to wear today. Picking some silk ribbon you saw laying about, you braided it into your hair, sealing it with a rubber band and tying an extra ribbon into a bow to conceal it. And finally, you had your bag. Well, more like bear. The teddy bear backpack you had on matched well with the neutral color scheme. So, you went for it. Honestly, you reminded yourself of a doll. A doll with a pretty face, and a whole lot of problems.
Taking a deep breath, you puffed out your chest. Your confident expression stared back at you, but on the other side of that mirror you felt nothing but anxiety simmering the longer you stood there in silence.
"I might as well wait for Toji outside then." It was no use standing around in your room. The bed looked way too inviting as it only made you think of excuses not to go. You wouldn't let your bed get the best of you this time.
Walking down the stairs, you headed towards the entrance, petting your cat's furry head along the way. Upon opening the door, you were met with the sight of freshly layered snow. It was thin, barely half an inch thick, but it already had you feeling a little better with the anticipation of making a snowman with it once the days got colder. You remember there was a time when you used to do that with Toji.
God, you can't even reminisce about the past without Toji having some part in it.
You desperately needed to figure out how you were going to do this.
Last night was a bust. Not much progress was made besides the fact that Toji actually spoke to you for the first time in years. Not that he had much chance to do so sooner even if he wanted to, with you a couple hours away from home and all. But it was the bare minimum. Right now you needed a plan, and you needed to think of one fast.
Standing against the railing of your porch, you sorted through your thoughts. You're going to get picked up by Toji in less than 10 minutes. You'll ride in his car, pretend that everything's okay because it is, you'll buy whatever this party needs, and if it goes well you'll confront him on the ride back home. And that'll be the end of that.
Easy.
But when is anything ever easy when it comes to that man. Nothing. The answer has always been nothing.
This line of thought has you so deep into your own frustration that you don't even realize you've been ranting to your teddy bear backpack. Murmuring to it harshly, and rolling your eyes like you're gossiping with a friend about the latest dumb thing that happened on Twitter today.
And it's only when you see a black pickup truck from your peripheral vision pulling up, that you stare back at the bear in horror. Mind being snapped back to the present, and feeling embarrassed that you were seen like this. A man was causing you this much turmoil, that you've been complaining to a damn backpack about it.
Quickly putting your bag back on, you smoothed out your sweater dress. You really fucking hope he didn't see that.
Facing towards the driveway you paused. Your eyes widened, already in awe at the vehicle as you saw it more clearly up close.
The last car you saw Toji with was an old, red Toyota truck. It did it’s job, but definitely not without a couple repairs here and there every so often (that you may or may not have checked him out while he was doing so.) So seeing this new, shiny, black Chevy parked right outside the driveway was definitely an exciting upgrade. The wheels were lifted, making the body higher than its original design, and the windows were tinted midnight black, making it nearly impossible to see who was inside unless you stuck a cheek to the glass.
Overall it was big, and intimidating.
Just like him.
'Guess those freelancing jobs paid off then.’
*BEEP BEEP*
Jesus. You didn't even notice Toji had already parked. How long were you just staring at it for? If he started to honk at you, it must’ve been more than what society deemed normal.
Running up to the passenger side of the truck, albeit meekly, you stopped right in front of the door just as the tinted windows were being pulled down giving you a better view of the inside. There sat Toji on the other side, upper body turned and facing towards you with one hand still on the wheel.
Toji’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at your appearance but it was quickly masked by a look of amusement.
"You busy daydreaming or what?"
Ignoring his remark, you placed your hands on the edge of the cold glass, peering up at him and around the interior.
“So, new truck huh?”
"Oh this? Yeah, got it not too long ago after receiving my payment for….from work."
You squinted your eyes in suspicion, noticing that he caught his words, but you weren't going to question it. No, you were going to let it go. You knew he wouldn’t tell you anything anyway, most likely just brushing it off as suddenly being hit with a stutter. He never spoke about his “overseas” jobs that he apparently racked up stacks of cash from, and despite him saying it was only freelancing work, you had a hunch it was something a lot shadier than that. You weren’t that dumb. Which is exactly why you weren’t going to ask.
Choosing to stay oblivious, you gave a compliment instead. "It's nice, Toji. Really."
You were about to open the door to get in and cut the small talk short (and because you’d rather bask in the in-system heating than out in the cold) but it wouldn’t budge. It was still locked. Why isn’t he unlocking the door?
Instead of unlocking the door for you like normal people do when picking up a person with their car, Toji isn't exactly someone you'd consider normal. Instead, Toji looked you up and down slowly as an awkward silence took over. You stood there rigid, allowing him to unashamedly undress you with his eyes. At least you think that's what he was doing. He’s being really bold today…does he seriously not plan to open this door?!
Your mind was running a mile per minute. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but you kind of liked the attention he was giving you right now. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to give you any last night. Not that you blame him. Looks like the effort you had put in, despite being rushed, was working, leaving him dumbstruck. You felt proud that you managed to have him speechless.
Unfortunately, your sudden boost in ego was quickly shut down.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Oh. Talk about anticlimactic.
"Huh? W-what do you mean?"
"I mean," He stood there, a single eyebrow raised, and vaguely gesturing to your form with his hand, "This."
Looking around to see if anyone else was witnessing this, you quirked your head in question. "What about it?"
"I know ya didn't just decide to go out looking like that when it's freezing out here. Go back upstairs and put some real clothes on." He looked at you sternly with a scowl etching onto the scarred side of his lip, arms crossing in front of his chest.
Was Toji actually scolding you right now? The nerve of this guy!
You hadn’t seen it right away, but after staring back at him in disbelief at what you were hearing, you noticed his own personal ensemble.
There’s no damn way…
Looking up and down at him as he had done to you just moments prior, you saw that he was wearing an unzipped puffer jacket with a hoodie underneath which was fine, you had no issues regarding that. The problem was what he was wearing below.
This man, who was condemning you on your sweater dress because it was apparently unfit for “freezing” temperatures, was wearing shorts and slides. At least he wore socks with it, if he hadn’t you think you may have actually gone back home and let him do the shopping himself.
You couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, but quickly shut up after seeing Toji wasn’t finding this as amusing as you were.
This was crazy.
Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose in disbelief. “You’re telling me to put warmer clothes on, when you’ve got shorts and slides on?”
Toji was quick to counter. “It’s not the same, don’t compare it.”
“Yeah it is!”
“Look kid, I’m not gonna argue with ya. Either change your clothes, or stay home.”
That’s exactly what you want to do. But you know deep down you can’t, you already told yourself you had to sort things out with him. And the first step to that, is sorting this out.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
After a couple pleading looks and adamant convincing of, 'I'm not cold!' 'I swear I'm fine. It doesn't even feel like winter out here!'
Toji relented. Letting out a sigh, shaking his head as he told you, 'Fine, whatever. But don’t come cryin’ at my feet when your stubborn ass gets sick and your mom gets mad at you.'
Now here you were, seated on the heated, brand new black leather seats of his Chevy after he finally gave in and unlocked the door, letting you in. You spent the trip with your head resting against the palm of your hand somberly, as you watched the scenery of snowy trees and other cars pass by.
The awkwardness throughout the entire car ride was at an all-time high. Higher than what it'd started out with earlier. You were both quiet; your brain a little less. Toji's disappointment regarding your attire was a total blow to your ego. You were just trying to look cute.
Not like it was meant for him anyway.
Is what you wanted to try convincing yourself in order to feel better, but really, you knew it was a lie.
As for Toji, that thought you had earlier about him ogling you? It was right on the money.
But he had to quickly save face by instead acting like a concerned adult worrying about the wellbeing of his innocent, young neighbor. If he was being honest, he didn’t give two shits about what you chose to wear. As long as it was for his eyes only.
Yes, he knew he’d hurt your feelings for telling you to go change. He understood that he was being overbearing and unreasonable especially after you brought up his own attire, but you had to understand. He physically couldn’t accept seeing you wearing an outfit that barely covered your ass like that in public when he should be the only one to see you looking like that. Yes, he was sick for looking at you that way and he knew that which is exactly why he needed you to cover up. Both so that no other creepy assholes (except himself) could see you that way, and because he doesn’t think he could control his thoughts about you for the next couple hours you have alone together. It’s why he had to shift in his seat a couple times. Though, you didn’t notice that.
This game you were playing with him? This seducing thing? With little skirts and shit, yeah it was doing something to him.
Maybe you haven’t changed as much as he thought. As they say, old habits die hard.
After about 15 more minutes of unspoken thoughts, you finally arrived at the store.
Why did you agree to do this again? Oh yeah, you didn't.
Unbuckling your seatbelt, you took a deep breath to try and regain your composure. Just focus on the task. Opening the door, you hopped down and out onto the recently snow-shoveled pavement with Toji following suit as he turned off the truck, taking the keys from the ignition and shutting the door behind him.
You could feel Toji’s burning gaze boring into your back as he walked behind you, keeping a slight distance between you and him but still enough that people could tell that you two came together. Entering into the store, you whipped out your phone, unlocking it and clicking on the notes app filled with a list of things you needed to get that your mom instructed you two to buy. You crossed your fingers hoping you could get all this done quickly and smoothly.
Obviously, life loves to humor you because things did not go smoothly.
Everything was going well at first, you scoured the aisles looking for streamers, fairy lights, pretty napkins, silver and white balloons, and whatever else was needed; putting it all into the basket that Toji was holding, still following you like a sort of puppy—or more like a guard dog with the menacing aura he carried around himself with every step he took.
Walking around you’d occasionally find something that caught your eye, tinkering around with the item for a couple seconds before putting it back down and walking over to the next intriguing thing—like a snow globe you found of a character you recognized filled with pink and white sparkly snow. You bet your ass you added that one to the basket. That hello kitty snow globe was a need, not a want. How something like that even found its way to a store like this was beyond you, but hey, you weren’t complaining.
You even found cute little hats while looking around and managed to get Toji to wear a pair of elf ears while you wore a Santa hat, telling him a silly joke about how he was Santa’s jolliest helper. That only earned you a huff, and roll of his eyes as he took off the ears and pulled the hat you wore down over your face, chuckling as he watched you make dramatics about how you were being suffocated despite being able to breathe perfectly fine.
Interacting like this with him gave you butterflies. You’d let him ruin your perfectly styled hair if it meant things were going back to the way they used to be between you both.
Everything was going fine.
You were actually having…fun. Which you hadn’t anticipated. You were so caught up about feeling like you were on thin ice with Toji, and though you still sort of felt that way, you felt ecstatic that things were beginning to feel normal. Like nothing even happened.
“Hmm, looks like the last thing on this list are more scented candles. Thought we already had some? Oh well.” You shrugged your shoulders. You think your own obsession with candles might have stemmed from your mom now that you think about it.
Toji leaned his body over your shoulder, looking down over your list himself at the check marked boxes except for one. You immediately stiffened up, not expecting him to get so close to you, and especially not for him to make body contact with you. You wish you didn’t have all these layers in the way. You internally shook the thought off before it could escalate. Now was not the time to be having these touched starved thoughts!
Pulling away from you, but still keeping close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, he put the basket down next to your feet. “Yeah, I saw a couple of those on the other aisle we passed by.”
“Oh good! One of us can get it. Stay here and I’ll quickly-“ Your suggestion didn’t even have a chance to reach the other end of Tojis ears before it got shut down.
“Nah, you stay here, and stay put while I grab it. And don’t go straying off you understand, kid?” Toji looked down at you, waiting for your answer. He’d rather not leave your side, especially since he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t get distracted by something and walk off like a lost mouse-but he tried to reason out in his head that it was only one item. He’d quickly get it and come back, and you’d still be there.
You weren’t going anywhere.
So why did he find it so hard to walk away from you? Must be some type of trauma he thinks.
Nodding your head, with a ‘Mhm! Promise. Not going anywhere. Nope, staying put.’ Toji searched your face to see if you were lying but decided you weren’t, and began jogging off towards another aisle in a different section of the store.
He couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this as he looked over at all the scented candles, picking up the most expensive looking ones.
“S’not my money anyway..”
Maybe he should’ve just taken you along with him. It’s not like it would’ve caused the both of you any more hassle than going alone would. Shit. Something was gnawing at Toji to hurry the hell up and get back to you. As he briskly walked to the aisle where he had left you, he was met with something far worse than overpriced décor, and it had him seething.
There you were, face scrunched up, and looking highly uncomfortable as some random guy, around your age it seemed, was trying to flirt with you.
Keyword: Trying.
Toji didn’t know who this guy was but he knew damn well what was happening, and he wasn't going to let it slide. Not on his watch. That he wasn't even wearing.
You hadn't noticed Toji's arrival yet. Still preoccupied with keeping calm and trying to ignore this random man that thought it would be chivalrous of himself to make comments about your body. Saying things about how he doesn't know why your man let you out like that, and if you were his bitch he wouldn't let you out his sight.
It's a good thing Toji wasn't there to hear any of that.
What Toji did hear as he was silently coming up behind the both of you, that almost made him run up and deck the guy in the nuts was when he leaned his body down exaggeratedly to look at your ass and said, "DAMN. That's more ass than…. I've seen….in a while!"
This prick didn't even know where the hell he was going with that line, but Toji sure knew where that guy was gonna end up if he tried it again.
At this point, you were more than ready to kick this guy in the balls, but you didn't want to anger him. Who knows what this guy has got going on in his head? He's harassing you at a decor store for fucks sake!
Before you were thinking about making a run for it to the direction of where Toji had gone, deeming your situation helpless without him; it seemed like someone finally answered your prayers because the moment you looked back, there he was standing right behind the both of you.
'How did I not notice him?? He's wearing slides for god sake! I should've heard the 'plip' 'plaps'!'
"The fuck are you doing?"
The guy was still leaning down when Toji spoke up. He was about to cuss out whoever this other guy was for interrupting his daily "I objectify women for fun" hobby, until he looked up. There Toji stood, 6'2, built like he was made for war, in his shorts and slides, holding candles, and a look so threatening etched onto his face, you think this guy may have almost shit his pants. If the audible gulp meant anything.
"O-oh fuck. Look sir, I was just admiring your hard work, very beautiful daughter you have here. Didn't realize…Sorry." The way he ran away was almost pitiful. Almost. But none of you had any pity for trash.
'Well that was quick', Toji thought. He assumed he might've had to light up this candle he was holding and choke him with it but it seems that wouldn't be happening today.
That's one less crime the authorities could pinpoint on him.
Turning his attention towards you, he asked if you were alright.
"Sort of…not really. Being objectified isn't exactly the greatest feeling…" Toji noticed the way you hugged your hands around yourself, most likely trying to cover up. Suddenly feeling too exposed for comfort despite attempting to brush the interaction off.
Maybe you should've listened to Toji earlier and changed your clothes to something more fitting for winter weather. Screw looking cute.
Though, the regret didn't have a chance to get very far because suddenly you were being brought back to the present.
"Lift your arms up."
Huh? "Wh- why?" The next thing he did nearly had your heart leaping out of your chest. Taking off his puffer jacket, he nudged your arms to lift up so he could help put it through the holes of the sleeves. After checking to make sure it was on properly, he zipped it up a bit more than halfway and patted you down in an effort to make you look a little bit less like the emo version of the Michelin Man.
"You gonna be okay?" You were still a little surprised at the gesture, especially since it was coming from him of all people, but you answered, "..Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay."
"Good. Lemme finish paying for all this crap and I'll drop you off at your place."
Leading the way towards the cashier, he placed his large palm over your lower back and kept it there until your goods were paid for, and you were out the door.
Situating yourself on the seats of Toji's car, you couldn't help but feel a smile creep up on you, desperately trying to bite it back. You're wearing his coat.
He put his coat on you.
You think you could die of happiness right now. But, you'll save that for later. That whole fiasco that happened at the store still had your mood all sour. You really didn't want to go home yet. And as Toji began to pull out of the parking lot, you spoke up.
"Toji? I don't really feel like going home yet.."
"Yeah? Aight. We'll stop somewhere, I know a place."
Nodding your head, you mumbled a 'thanks', grateful that he took the hint and didn't try to argue with you or ask any questions. Toji can be empathetic when he wants to be sometimes.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Apparently, when Toji said he 'knew a place', you didn't expect it to be…this.
"Cinnabon? Really?"
"What? You don't like their cinnamon buns? We can go someplace else if you don't want em.”
You paused. Well, now that you were thinking about it…"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I do like those."
“Besides,” Walking over to the counter to order, Toji got into line, “I remember ya telling me one time that you liked this place."
He still remembers something like that?
You didn’t answer. Instead you followed the nod of Toji’s head telling you to leave the ordering to him and to go find a table to sit at. Looking around, you saw that all the tables were already preoccupied. Damn. Walking back to Toji, you suggested ordering it to go and just finding some place else to sit at like that wooden bench you saw just outside the establishment, which he seemed to favor far more.
Leaving him to his vices, you exited the shop and went to sit outside on the storefront bench, patiently waiting for Toji to get back with your food. Looking around there was still a thin sheet of snow covering some areas of the pavement, most having melted throughout the day or driven over by now. Yet it seemed as though the temperature had no plans of rising as you breathed out a puff of steam, remaining at its crisp, nearly frosty condition. It felt peaceful.
The few minutes of alone time you had to yourself was the most silence your brain has allowed itself to be in within the 24 hours of Tojis reintroduction into your life.
The oversized puffer jacket you still had on made those hours feel shorter by reminding you of just how much "excitement" had managed to happen—you bet you looked silly as hell with it engulfing your frame, but you couldn't find it in you to care about that at this moment. Especially since it was serving its purpose of protecting you against the cold that you found yourself surrounded by as you sat there waiting.
Leaning back against the wood, you felt something hindering you from going all the way. Your teddy bear backpack. You forgot you even had it on as it was hidden underneath the coat Toji had quickly put on you. Yeah, you must've looked really stupid. Fighting back a grimace and ignoring the fact for your own peace of mind, you went to remove the coat. Leaving it piled behind you on the bench as you took off your bag, placing it onto your lap.
Reaching into your bag, you took out your trusty emergency makeup kit. Wouldn't hurt to do a quick touch up… Looking over in the direction of the sudden sound of a bell being rung, you peered over to your left to see that it was just someone stepping foot out the shop with a cup of what looked to be hot chocolate.
'Hopefully Toji get's back soon.'
Focusing back on the task at hand, you clicked open a compact inspecting the state of the way you looked with the mirror. The sight that greeted you brought out a breath of relief. Not a single thing out of place. But just in case, you patted on a little bit of powder for good measure, and reapplied your clear lipgloss so the cold air could struggle to nip at your lips.
After assessing what needed to be assessed, you put your pouch back into your bag and immediately piped up at the sound of the door chiming again. You couldn't help but do a small cheer as you saw that it was finally Toji approaching you, carrying a bag containing your icing drenched cinnamon bun, a hot drink of some sort, and a bottle of water.
Handing you your food and drink, you thanked him and immediately dug in once it was within your grasp. Taking a bite, a bit of steam emitted from the warm and gooey bun melting on your tongue, flooding your taste buds with a mix of sweet and nutty spice. Damn, you were a lot hungrier than you thought. But you suppose that's due to having skipped breakfast in the morning. Stuffing more into your mouth, your eyes met Toji's to see him already sitting beside you and looking down at you, snickering.
"Hwat?" The question came out muffled from your cheeks being stuffed like a squirrel.
He looked off to the side for a second, still snickering before he answered, "Nothin."
Swallowing your food down harshly, you pouted with your brows scrunched together and took notice that you were the only one eating.
"How come you didn't get yourself one?"
He deadpanned. "I don't want diabetes."
"Right…of course not…" Such a Toji answer, you thought.
It felt a little weird to be the only one eating, but he kept refusing everytime you asked if he was absolutely sure he didn’t at least want a bite. It was silent between you two except for the occasional slurp of your drink, and you think Toji noticed it too because suddenly he started conversing with you, catching up a little bit on how the both of you have been.
"So kid, how's the university life been treatin' ya?"
"Hm? Oh uhm, it's been alright I guess." You shrugged, fork still in hand.
"Just alright? Sounds pretty lackluster to me."
"It is." You sighed.
"You tellin' me you don't, what- party? Or done those weird cultist initiations you kids do at sororities."
"Yeah…no. I'm too busy actually studying most of the time. I've been to like 2-ish? parties, but that's about it. And sororities? You couldn't possibly pay me to join one of those.” You’ve heard one too many stories of premature deaths being caused by sororities. You didn’t particularly feel like gambling your chances. Plus, you weren’t really into the whole sisterhood-brotherhood thing, too weird.
As the conversation progressed between your frankly unexciting school life, Toji recalled some neighborhood fiasco that happened while you were away.
"...Then this kid's boyfriend starts beating up the guy that tried to take her purse."
"No way! This really happened in our neighborhood? Where like.. nothing ever happens?" To think that a crime had actually happened in the most safest, suburban of neighborhoods that you lived in for your whole life and you weren't there to witness it.
"I'm tellin' ya it was set up to make himself look good. A robbery in broad daylight? In this neighborhood? Bullshit."
"Why does all the exciting shit always happen when I'm not around?" You whined, sighing out your disappointment.
Closing the box to your nearly finished cinnamon bun and placing it beside you on the bench, you suddenly remembered something.
"By the way! My mom told me you have a son? How come you never mentioned him to me before?"
And just like that, Tojis brows immediately furrowed as if the question was one he hadn't expected to be asked, especially not coming from you. Leaning forward with a grunt, he rested an elbow on his knee, propping a palm under his chin as he proceeded to look at you with the most dramatically bored expression you’ve ever seen on someone's face- one that rivaled even yours.
It screamed, ‘let's get this shit over with.’
"You never asked. Besides, why you askin' about him now?"
You noticed the way his mood instantly changed after mentioning him but...it was probably nothing right?
Regardless, he didn't seem to be exactly… excited at the mention of his son, so you treated lightly with your next words. “Well, my mom is telling me that I should start looking for a good boy to date and she mentioned your son.”
He laughed out in disbelief. “Gumi? That boy? Ha, good luck with that. He wouldn’t know the first thing on how to treat a girl.”
He couldn’t treat you the way I could. Is what he wanted to say.
Awkwardly you answered, “Well… anyway, I don't think he even goes to my Uni…I think. So it wouldn't really be an option.”
Toji stayed silent.
The sudden uncomfortable silence that took over had you overthinking all over again.
What's wrong? Does he have a bad relationship with his son? Is that why he looks irritated? Should I ask? No. He might get more irritated. Shit. Okay, subject change.
Slamming your hands onto your thighs a little too hard in an attempt to calm your nerves, the sound seemed to catch Tojis attention. Snapping him out of whatever trance he was in, and back to his usual demeanor.
You rubbed your arms out of awkwardness. “Sooo, yeah. Sucks, I wasn't there to witness a fraudulent act of chivalry right in my own neighborhood."
Toji was thankful you moved on from the topic of his son, he didn’t want to think of that little squirt right now.
But then it got him wondering…
"You ever had a boyfriend before?"
The question surprised you a little. Okay maybe a lot. You didn't think he'd be even remotely interested in your love life.
"No… I've never had one." While there was no shame in not having had a significant other at your age, still you couldn't help but feel embarrassed admitting it to Toji.
Toji raised a brow in suspicion. "You sure you're staying clear of boys?"
This behavior he was exhibiting was starting to confuse the hell out of you. First he scolds you on your attire this morning, and now he's interrogating you on your love life? He was being way overprotective, almost acting as a parent, and it was seriously beginning to make you feel hopeless.
You nodded. "Yes, Toji. I'm not interested in college guys. They don't know what they're doing,"
That answer seemed to be good enough for Toji, but to both his and your utter surprise you continued, "But I've done other things."
Straightening his back up against the wooden bench in interest, Toji beckoned you to continue on. Truth be told, he didn't want to hear you talking about boys. Just the thought of you with some dumbass little boy made him irrationally bothered. But there was one thing itching at him to ask.
One thing he simply had to know.
"Oh yeah?"
"Just casual stuff. Nothing serious.."
Toji hummed. It was cute how you were beating around the bush about whatever 'things' you've done. He'll humor you this time around.
"We talkin' the 'clothes on' type of stuff?"
"Well…not exactly.."
Your lack of elaboration following your answer made Toji egg you on further.
"Don't start gettin' all shy on me now. Let me take a guess, this has somethin' to do with how you mentioned that college boy's don't know what they're doing, yeah?
And like clockwork, the words proceeded to flow past the tip of your tongue without a second thought.
"Remember how I also mentioned earlier that I've gone to only a few parties? Well at one of those parties, I got left alone by my friends in favor of hooking up with some guys they thought were hot."
"Sounds like some shitty friends."
You grunted. "Tell me about it. Anyways, here I am, sitting alone on this couch that's thankfully only mildly sticky from whatever wasted student had spilled their drink on top of it, and this guy sits right next to me. We talk, things happen, and we find an empty room."
Toji hums, signaling to you that he's still listening.
Immediately, irritation is apparent on your face by the way your eyes narrow as you recall the memory. "He puts his hands in my pants and this dumbass can't for the life of him find where my clit is and is just rubbing around. Then he has the nerve to ask if I came yet!? Bitch I'm not even moaning!"
Toji nods, intently listening to your rant. Biting back his amusement at your outburst.
"And the same fuckin thing happens again except with a different guy I had been seeing for less than a week. Except—get this, he asks me what a clit is. Like are you for real!?"
Taking a deep breath, you tried channeling your nerves. "So that's that. College boy's don't know where the clit is—hell, they don't even know of its existence."
Slumping your shoulders, you kicked at the tiny stones on the cement with your shoe.
"It's why I've never gone further than that."
If you were being honest, even if those guys did know their way around a woman's body, you don't think you could find it within yourself to stick around for it. You already knew what your mind was banging against your skull to say. Deep down, somewhere in the backrooms of your brain, you know it's because of Toji. It's always been him; the man you're still holding out for. Hoping he'd be the one to take your virginity.
Whatever. It was a pipe dream anyway. And you definitely weren't going to tell him that.
Speaking of telling him…
‘Why did you tell him all that!? Why did you have to run your mouth!!’
You stammered out an apology. The gravity of what you just up and confessed dawned on you, leaving you a cringing mess from within.
"I-I'm sorry…I don't even know why im telling you all this-"
Toji is quick to dismiss the apology. Truth be told, he was delighted to hear that you were still a virgin.
“Don't worry bout it’. It's nothing to be embarrassed of.
“I mean yeah…but still…”
Turning to face you, Toji placed his hand gingerly upon your thigh, giving it a light squeeze in what you assumed to be an attempt at reassurance or maybe it was comfort? You couldn't really tell, you just knew that the warmth of it felt nice.
“Listen, if I’m tellin’ you that being a virgin is nothin’ to be ashamed of, then its not. Look at it this way, you ain’t a teen mom, something not many can say nowadays.” He shrugged.
He kind of had a point. Though his comforting skills were kind of ass.
“Yeah..okay. Thanks for listening then.”
“No problem.”
You thought after your little rant the atmosphere would return to its awkward state as it seems that's how it had been every time you spoke with Toji—yet oddly enough, it felt like you had somehow managed to get closer to him by opening up about your struggles.
Suddenly feeling a spout of hunger befall you once more, you took the last remaining bite of your cinnamon bun, slowly licking off the icing that had gotten smeared onto your lips.
Toji eyed the action intently, internally shaking a head at himself.
‘This little minx..’ but before you could make eye contact he abruptly withdrew his hand, fishing a phone out his pocket and checking the time. Huh, you hadn't even noticed his hand had still been on you.
“It's already almost 4, think it's time to call it a day.”
With a sound of surprise, you rose up from your seat, closing the box once more as you watched Toji stand up from his own spot, already patting on his pockets for the car keys.
You hadn't even noticed that much time had gone by.
“Thanks again for the cinnamon buns and of course, for listening.”
Toji only hummed in acknowledgement.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
The ride home was spent surrounded by the sounds of muffled radio chatter, ever so slightly noticeable with the engine of the truck at a constant thrum. The sun surprisingly hadn't gone down yet as it typically would have on any other winter day and you made sure to thank your lucky stars for those few more minutes of sunlight.
On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel sad. You didn't want the day to end yet, especially not when progress had been made between the two of you. Then it hit you, progress had been made. While you didn't actually confront him about what had transpired on that faithless day, it was still worth celebrating.
Baby steps are still steps after all.
And the more you thought about it, it began to occur to you that today…today kinda felt like a date. In a messed up sense. To others this would've been a failure of a day, but to you? You were elated.
‘Maybe now's my chance to talk to him about what happened back then.’
Sitting up just a little bit straighter in your seat, you turned your head to face Toji, contemplating on the right words to say to him. Just when you were on the verge of starting your sentence, Toji’s phone suddenly began to ring, vibrating atop the center console.
Without bothering to check who was calling him, Toji answered the phone, putting it on speaker. Nothing to be worried about anyway, probably some scammer giving Toji his routine call.
“Yo, what’s up?”
Without a second to waste, a feminine voice practically cried from the other end.
“Tojiiii, baby it’s been so long, when are you coming over?? You know I miss you-”
Before this unknown lady could hope to finish her sentence, she was abruptly hung up on–courtesy of Tojis hand flying to take the call off speaker, fumbling for a good second only to ultimately end the call for good measure.
Clearing his throat, Toji continued to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead. Can't be having you both end up in a car crash right?
“Sorry about that, that was… just one of my old close friends.”
“Uh huh. Ya’ll must've been real close.”
Toji ignored the snark.
“Anyways, go ahead, what were you saying?”
“I…wasn’t saying anything.”
Thankfully the call was received just minutes short of arriving at your home. Pulling into the driveway, the truck on neutral, you waited a few seconds to see if Toji would say anything more. He didn’t.
Holding back a shaky sigh, you unbuckle your seatbelt and exited the vehicle, opening the passenger side to pick up the bags of decor that you went to buy in the first place.
“Wait, let me help ya out-” Toji last minutely interjected as he turned his body over in his seat to face you.
“No need. I already got it.” Picking up the last bag (thankfully they weren’t very heavy), you slammed the passenger door shut. You contemplated giving Toji a proper farewell bidding but with the way you were feeling right now? You didn’t want him to see the ache painted in your eyes. Instead, you continued walking down the shoveled path and up the steps to your house, fishing the keys out from your keychain and unlocking the door, closing it behind you.
Kicking your shoes off and slipping some slippers onto your feet, you laid the bags over the kitchen counter letting whoever discovered them first deal with the contents inside as you made your way up the stairs to your room, plopping onto your bed face first.
You nearly teared up at your own naivety.
Holy shit. ‘I’m so stupid.’ Was all you could think of as the booty call Toji had received replayed in your mind. This wasn’t any new information on Toji that you hadn’t already known about yet it hurt so bad.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
On the other hand, Toji couldn’t help but feel the same way. When he saw you safely get back into your home, he shifted gears to reverse, pulling out the driveway and driving back to his own place.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he pulled out his phone from the cup holder it fell into amidst his struggle to end the call earlier and proceeded to call them back.
One ring was all it took for them to answer, and one second was all it took for Toji to cut them off before they could say anything more.
“Don’t fuckin’ call me again, understand? Good. Now, fuck off.” Hanging up before she could respond or attempt to call back like an idiot, he blocked her.
Letting out a rather loud groan of irritation, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands in indignation, letting his head fall as he could feel a headache coming on.
“Fuck.”
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Laying on your bed disappointed, you curled up thinking about the events that transpired earlier. The whole trip felt like an actual date—up until that call anyway. It was probably the worst way the day could have ended. Your bad luck was unimaginable.
“I need to find myself a four leaf clover or something at this point…”
Honestly, you didn't want to get out of bed. You wanted to lay down and wilt like a flower that never gets any sunlight. Stuffing your face into your arm, it occured to you that you were still wearing Toji’s jacket.
“Maybe I should stop trying to go after someone who’ll never like me back…” You mumbled to yourself, sitting up and throwing the coat towards the nearest chair it could land on.
Were you really this delusional? You saw the way he was looking at you—you shook your head, trying not to overthink it.
‘I guess I had the wrong idea.’
Feeling defeated, you knew if you wanted to continue moping about this, you’d have to do it after a shower; lest you end up skipping your skincare routine leaving you with another thing to sulk about.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
You couldn’t sleep.
Restless, you tossed and turned trying to find that sweet spot that would have you suddenly waking up to the birds singing. Come the fuck on..! I just want to sleep, dammit!
Grunting, it seemed no matter where you tried to place yourself within the comfort of your sheets and plethora of pillows engulfing you, you just couldn’t seem to knock yourself out.
Only one option left.
Slipping a hand underneath the blanket, you let your fingers wander across your skin. Giving each of your tits a soft squeeze under your shirt as you slowly began to relax, sighing in content at a teasing roll of your bud, slowly hardening at your touch.
Growing tired of the teasing and beginning to feel heavy with need, you ran a finger down your panties, keeping it firmly pressed against your slit as you slowly raised your hips up and down in tandem with your middle finger, rubbing yourself over the cotton material. You could feel yourself getting hotter, wetter. A small, sticky patch of your own arousal seeping through the garment as you finally had enough, moving your panties to the side and making contact with your sickened clit. You wasted no time in parting your lips with your pinky and index, and letting both your middle and ring finger draw tight circles over your bundle of nerves. Immediately settling into a steady rhythm that was sure to have you quickly coming undone.
As your breathing picked up, so did the small whimpers escaping through your lips. You tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, but fuck was it hard when all you wanted to do was mewl out a certain someones name, imagining it was him playing with your pussy like this.
Toji.
Even just sounding his name out in your head had you bucking your hips against the friction you were creating. His large, warm hand stuffed down your panties, and cupping your pussy from behind while rubbing at the entire expanse of your puffy cunt messily. Fast. Drenching his palm in your juices. Wondering what it'd feel like to have his long, fat fingers plunge into you as your own currently probes at your clenching hole, dipping in slightly only to take it back out. It didn't feel—wouldn't feel nearly as good unless it were his.
You felt so close. Your fingers were starting to ache as you exerted them, moving it against your swollen clit quicker than before. It started to hurt, but the feeling of adrenaline rushing through you to finish made your brain block it out, replacing it with the endorphins of white hot pleasure that you anticipated to burst at any minute now.
You clamped your legs around your hand, curling into your side like a ball. You wanted to stop, it was too much. But you were so fucking close. Your shaky whines were no longer being held back, eyes squeezed shut and the side of your face pressed against your pillow muffling it as best you could to prevent it from being heard outside.
Just a little more…
Come on come on come on..! Your hand wouldn't stop unless your body reached its peak, only increasing in its pace. Holding your breath, the sound of your palpating heart was deafening as you continued letting out harsh pants.
You felt the familiar feeling of your lower abdomen tightening, coiling up and finally bursting like a dam. Your toes curled up as you threw your head back further into the pillow, unable to stop the sudden cry of Toji’s name that accidentally slipped out from your parched mouth at the pressure of your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.
Before you could bask in your post orgasmic bliss, Toji bursts through your door. The fucking man himself. In the flesh..?
In a panic, you pull your stiff hand away from between your legs as if it were scalding hot oil, grasping the blanket up towards your chin to cover what you’d just been essentially caught doing.
“Heard you screamin’ my name out, sweetheart.”
You’d think any normal reaction to being intruded on by the person you were just fantasizing about would be to first ask some questions—yet there you laid calm as a cucumber, watching as he inched closer to you.
Toji smirked. “Don’t start gettin’ all shy on me now. Let me hear you scream my name again for me.”
You don’t know how he got to you so quickly but Toji was already slipping his hand under the covers towards your pussy, finding it slick and sticky from your high, smearing it all over as he ran his fingers up and down your sensitive slit.
Retracting his hand back from underneath, he relished in the way your arousal stuck to his fingers like a spider's web as he spread them out, glistening against the soft lighting of your suddenly oddly hazy looking room.
Fueled with newfound urgency, Toji threw the covers off of you, yanking your body up to stand on the floor as you both made your way towards your vanity, back hitting the edge of it as you steadied yourself against Toji's chest. It was all moving too quickly. Too fast. Before you could stop to process your surroundings properly, Toji’s large hand hastily groped your tits as his other fingers that were touching on your pussy earlier prodded at your mouth to open. Without a word, you wrapped your lips around them like a good girl, sucking—tasting yourself before he removed them in order to turn you around.
Just then, you realized you both were naked as Toji lifted one of your legs up onto the vanity, dragging his wet fingers over his cock as he moved to align it with your dripping hole. You couldn't form a thought. As if on autopilot. Only the unbridled, desperate need to have Toji in you remained.
No. Scratch that. You felt your own thoughts before you could form them, as if it weren’t your own. It definitely was though. You don’t think anyone could too how fucking badly you wanted this man. Now he was finally about to fuck you? You may as well have been the luckiest woman on planet earth.
And as you begin to feel the sensation of Toji's cock about to enter you—confirming that notion, the door to your room bursts open again.
Wait.
“Wake up.”
What?
“Wake up!”
Is that my fucking cat talking!?
“WAKE UP!”
Groggily opening your eyes, you're met with early winter sun seeping through your thin curtains, casting a hazy glow into your room. You hear birds singing.
“What the hell was that…” Stretching the sleep out of your limbs, you noticed your hand was still situated inside your panties.
You closed your eyes, trying to recall your dream. “So half of that was real?” Well, up until Toji bursted into your room, you suppose. And when your cat spoke up telling you to wake the fuck up.
Ugh.
Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, leaning over the bedside to pull your diary sitting on your nightstand towards your lap. You had to write this shit down.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
After jotting down as much as you could recall from the dream without mixing it up with what you were actually getting up to in real life, you left the diary on the same vanity dream version Toji almost dicked you down on.
Throughout the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about Toji. Hell, your feelings for him increased tenfold just from that measly dream alone. You don't know if it's solely your dreams doing that made you feel like you suddenly had a genuine chance with him but fuck it.
You thought about the events of yesterday and recalled when he grasped your thigh. That couldn’t have just been nothing right? The way he eyed your lips too as you licked icing off them. He didn't think you noticed, but you did. Of course you did. It was on purpose after all.
And the icing on the cake? When you brought up his son, Megumi. You didn't want to assume anything but you could've sworn you sensed jealousy swimming in those green eyes of his. How ironic.
Shit, maybe you do have a chance with Toji after all. All he needs is a little push.
With all the evidence stacked up in your favor, you knew you had to devise a plan.
A plan on how to seduce your neighbor.
You giggled to yourself.
“Mama chose a thought daughter.”
© SUGUCIDAL 2024 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.
#୨♡୧ — 𝐉𝑼𝐉𝐔𝐓𝑺𝑼 𝐊𝐀����𝐒𝑬𝐍#⸼ ׁ꒰ ᵗᵒʲⁱ ᶠᵘˢʰⁱᵍᵘʳᵒ ꒱ ׁ⸼#neighbor! toji x reader#neighbor! toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#toji smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#toji fluff#toji fic#toji fushiguro fic#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro fanfic#toji fanfic#toji fushiguro series#jjk self insert#jjk fic#jjk series#jjk fluff#jjk toji
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She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 2)
Paige continues her assault on your innocence, leading you to spiral.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Themes: angst in the beginning, Paige being hot and flirty the rest of it woohoo, mentions of being horny oops
Part 1 - You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.
Masterlist
A/N: I’m so, so grateful for all the love on the first part of this little mini series. Let me know if you are up for a third part:)) I have soo many ideas it's ridiculous
~
You wake up feeling anything but well rested. Your sleep was muddled with dreams of Paige, her smile infiltrating your unconsciousness until you woke up with an uncomfortable stickiness in between your thighs. You groan into your pillow, the general overwhelmingness of last night draining you even more.
Grabbing your phone from your bedside table, you see a text from Paige, and the butterflies erupt inside of you once more.
‘We’re all planning on going out tonight. You’re coming with us.’
Her bluntness momentarily stuns you, but you were grateful to be included. It seemed she was hell bent on getting you out of your shell, for whatever reason, and you were simply just going to concede. You needed this.
You respond, your heart beating out of your chest, and the anxiety begins to set in.
It was getting harder and harder to deny the gay feelings you had. And although it had been years since your “oh shit, I’m gay,” moment had dawned on you, this was reaching new heights of awareness. But you had refused to truly accept it thus far.
You had a complicated relationship with your sexuality. Most of the time you had shied away from even acknowledging it; it was too painful. In high school, you were surrounded by other gay people, and it felt like you almost belonged, slowly coming to terms with your sapphism. But as you moved away to college, you were the only one in your friend group who was even a little remotely queer, and you felt isolated by your glaring differences.
Your religious upbringing did not help the situation either. You quickly learned how to hide your emotions. Slurs were regularly thrown around the dinner table, the nasty words cutting into your being, and your fists would be tightening in your lap, fighting to keep a neutral expression on your face.
You could not give yourself away.
As soon as you could, you’d seek solace in your room, hot, shameful tears sliding down your cheeks, forcing yourself to quiet the sobs erupting through your chest. The words of contempt echoed through your mind, until eventually you had nearly come to believe them yourself.
Each evening you clasped your hands together desperately in prayer, vehemently struggling with everything you had been raised to know and everything you wanted and needed to feel. It was an eternal battle that raged on inside, slowly withering you into a ghost, haunted by the darkness that had flourished in the absence of support and acceptance.
You wondered what the people who had claimed to love and know you the most, would do if they found out about your dirty, little secret. The anxieties about being outed manifested in cruel dreams, awakening you suddenly, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body as your chest rose and fell in quick staccato breaths.
That was something you still wondered today. And you would certainly wonder for the rest of your life. You had vowed that you would never come out to your family unless you truly fell in love with a girl. So you had kept everyone at arm's length to protect yourself. But Paige Bueckers was slowly breaking your walls down, brick by brick.
A wave of nausea washes over you as you realize that getting closer to Paige meant toying the line of the false heteronormative persona you’ve been carefully crafting since you were a young teenager. The temptation of feeling normal in a group of girls quickly shuts down any immediate worries. That was a problem for another time.
You hear your roommates in the living room, bustling around without having any idea of your internal battle. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed to go out to meet them, already preparing for the deafening noises that would inevitably come with telling them of last night's events.
You open your door, nearly shuffling your feet against the carpet as you walk out to greet Taylor and Sarah. Their heads turn from the focus on the television, faces set in smiles as they see you emerge from your room.
“Guess what I did last night?” You prompt them, and their faces morph into ones of natural curiosity.
“Did you read your class syllabuses to get a head start?” Sarah asks sarcastically, and you stick your tongue out at her in false derision.
“No,” you scoff, although her guess was not completely off base. “I went over and hung out with Paige and the rest of the team.”
Taylor and Sarah were uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. They glanced at each other, momentarily stunned before erupting in hollers, jumping to their feet in excitement.
“How the fuck did that happen?” Taylor all but yells, still jumping up and down. It was a good thing you did not have downstairs neighbors.
“Well they were being so loud, and I wanted to go to bed, so I knocked on the door to politely ask them to shut up,” you explain, trying to hide the giddiness you felt as you recalled the events of last night.
“And Paige answered and invited me in. And now I’m going out with her and the team tonight,” you finish, carefully watching the reactions of your two best friends.
Their faces were morphed into ones of sheer delight and astonishment.
“My innocent, little angel is growing up,” Taylor exclaims, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, and you swat at her, giggling at the sheer hilarity of the situation.
“What am I supposed to wear to a bar?” You ask, and the girls shriek in laughter, clapping their hands and promising to help you get dressed later.
You feel better about everything, the support from your roommates briefly quelling the fears and uncertainties that had plagued your mind for years. And your excitement was a testimony to the effect a certain blonde had on you.
~
“You’ve got great tits. Might as well show them off,” Sarah says exasperatedly, shoving one of her low cut tops at you.
Your face heats up, and you hold up the tiny tank top. “Don’t you think it’s a little, I don’t know, slutty?” Your voice trails to a whisper as you think about purposely showing off your body.
“That’s the point, girl! It’s finally your time to show everyone what you’re fucking made of. Go be a sexy, bad bitch!” Taylor urges, slapping you on the butt as she does.
You take a deep breath, nodding in agreement, finally pushing yourself further away from the perfect, good girl act that had been placed upon you since you were a child.
You don the skimpy black tank, admiring the way it shows off your slim waist, and you pair it with tight jeans that accentuate the curve of your ass perfectly. You fluff your hair and add a layer of lip gloss, before taking one last long glance in the mirror.
You could do this.
With a few encouraging words from your roommates and a few slaps to your ass, you nervously make your way across the hall to knock once more on Paige’s door. The door is thrown open, loud cheers erupting as you appear, and KK launches herself at you excitedly, throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her.
Giggling, you hug her back, your nerves melting away at her friendly disposition. She pulls away, eyeing you up and down with an approving nod. “Someone cooked here,” she smirks, and your face blooms an embarrassing shade of deep red.
“My roommates kind of helped me get dressed,” you admit, hands tugging down your impossibly small shirt.
“Girl, you look fineee,” she says, rubbing her hands together, causing several of the other girls to cackle at her not so subtle attempt to rizz you up.
“Who looks fine?” you hear a familiar voice, and your head whips in the direction of the question. You see Paige sauntering towards you, and your heart immediately begins to pound as your eyes rake over her tall figure.
Her hair was down in blonde waves, making you want to reach out and run your hand through the soft-looking locks. Her toned stomach was exposed from her crop top, her abs flashing in a way that had your stomach rolling with an unfamiliar feeling. You couldn’t necessarily put your finger on it, but it shot down in an intense display of unbridled want. And she had the smuggest look on her face, accentuating the plumpness of her bottom lip. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to lick a slow line against your own lip as you watch her approach you.
KK points at you, waggling her eyebrows. “The pretty princess over here.”
You blush again. Shit, you really had to get that under control.
Paige hums, looking you up and down once more. “She’s not wrong,” she mutters huskily in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. Your knees weaken at her touch, and you aren't sure if you’d be able to survive the night. It had just begun, and she had you completely and irrevocably fucked.
30 minutes later, you, Paige, and the other members of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were shuffling into several ubers to head to a nearby bar. Unsure of which car to get into, you awkwardly stand off to the side, the anxiety pumping through your veins once more, but you soon feel a muscular arm wrap around your waist.
Looking up, you are met with Paige’s blue eyes and that smug smirk, and with a wink, she guides you to the nearest car, helping you into the backseat. As you sit, you adjust your top, overly aware of how much of your chest was actually out. Paige sits next to you, settling in with a low grunt, and she immediately places a hand on your thigh. Your eyes focus on the veins and the length of her fingers, and that feeling in your belly ignites again.
As you arrive at the bar, Paige helps you out of the car with a chivalrous hand. And it does not leave yours as you enter the doors. She laces her fingers through yours, and you don’t miss the way it feels so damn right. She guides you through the crowds of people, and your breath hitches, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the volume and the hoards of drunk people pushing into your frame.
Paige notices immediately, and she pulls you closer, tucking you into her side protectively. You preen at the attention, the feeling so foreign but addictive. You needed more, and the idea of it ripped away from you sent an unsettling spike of dread shooting through you maliciously.
Subtly, you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear the thoughts out of your head. Overthinking was sure to be your downfall. Nothing a little alcohol couldn’t fix, though.
Aside from the occasional glass of wine, you had never really drank. And you certainly had never done shots. But when Nika and Aubrey had thrusted a tray of them towards where you and Paige were sitting, you were quick to grab one, eager to dull the bitter voices in your head.
You bring it to your face, taking a hesitant sniff that causes your nose to wrinkle, eliciting a fond chuckle from the blonde. “Do I just sip it or…?” You trail off shyly, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous you sounded. What kind of college girl didn’t know how to take a shot?
Paige bites her lip. “Lemme help you, baby,” she mutters in your ear, and she takes the shot out of your hand. “Breathe all of the air out and then swallow it all at once before you take another breath, okay?”
You nod, letting the air leave your mouth, lips pouting. Without her gaze leaving your mouth, Paige holds up the shot glass, pouring the liquid down your throat in a swift motion.
You swallow quickly, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly. You lick your lips, trying to catch a tiny drop that had slid past your mouth and trailed down your chin towards your neck.
Before you can chase the trickle, Paige leans in, swiping it with her thumb, placing it into her mouth and sucking, her cheeks hollowing in the process.
Your face morphs into a look of shock, and she gives you a shit-eating grin. The effect she had on you was something out of a book you spent many lonely nights immersing yourself in. And now that you were living in the crystal clear reality, you regretted not getting out of your shell a little sooner.
“Can I do another?” You ask, already looking at the tray where a few shots still remained.
Paige laughs. “Maybe wait a few, princess. The alcohol will kick in soon,” she promises. “You can share mine,” she gestures to her drink, and you don’t miss the way the pet name rolls off her tongue effortlessly.
Paige was not lying when she had told you that the effects would soon hit you. Before you could even start to feel uncomfortable, a delicious easiness fell over you, loosening you up in a way you had never experienced before. You reach for Paige’s straw once more, pretending that her mouth was not just on it, and you relish in the sweet liquid adding to your tipsiness.
Paige had stayed close all night, similarly to the night before, and you were grateful for her constant presence anchoring you. The other girls took turns dancing with you, showering you with compliments and making future plans. Even through the haze of the alcohol, your heart felt as if it could burst; they were all so nice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you actually belonged.
The night flies by, and as it does, you and Paige get more and more touchy. Her hands took turns between trailing down your back and resting heavily on your hips. She played with a lock of your hair, twisting it in her fingers as you swayed to the music, and she was constantly gazing at you through heavy lids, pupils blown from the darkness of the bar and pure want.
Emboldened by the drinks that had graced your lips, you don’t shy away, and before you know it, you’re leaning in closer, intoxicated by more than just the liquor. The bustling crowds and excessive noise surrounding you melts away as Paige grips your waist, pulling you closer into her.
Your heart pounds at her proximity. She reaches up, cradling your jaw and stroking the soft skin of your neck with her thumb. You wonder if she can feel the thumping of your carotid, but you’re too enthralled in her presence to even care. Her eyes flit between your own and your slightly parted lips. Everything felt so fucking delicate, as if one small move would break everything.
“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night,” she whispers, and pulls you into a kiss.
All the air is sucked out of you as her lips touch yours. And while you are momentarily stunned, it does not take long before yours are moving against her in a delicious exchange of passion. All worries of not being a good kisser leave your mind as Paige moans against your mouth, the sound shooting straight down your belly and to your pussy. Her tongue moves against you, and the feel of it does not help the slick now accumulating in your panties.
The kiss eventually ends, much to your displeasure, and as you pull away, a giggle erupts from your mouth at the insanity of it all.
You had just kissed Paige Bueckers.
“OOH, P is fucking whipped!” KK shouts over the music, enthusiastically high-fiving Ice and Nika.
Fuck, you were caught.
But little did KK know, is that you were pretty fucking whipped, too. With one smooth move, Paige had broken down all your walls, and you were surrounded by the bricks of your carefully crafted innocence shattered around you at your feet. And maybe you could blame it on the alcohol, but you were pretty sure that if Paige made you anything less of a good girl, you were certainly okay with that.
~
Part 3 - You get drunk off Paige, and confessions come out.
Part 4 - Paige makes you feel so good.
Part 5 - Paige shows you her strap.
Part 6 - Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.
The beginning hits a little too close to home I’m so sorry I blacked out while writing it. It’s been almost 9 years since I realized I had feelings for girls, and I still struggle every day with accepting myself. To all the readers who are going through the same thing, I love you, and here’s to hoping things get better. If you ever want to reach out, my inbox is always open.
xoxo katy
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers x you#uconn women’s basketball#uconn wbb
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in every lifetime (pt. 2)
summary: you and logan try to steer clear of each other, the scars running so deep that certain memories of the past occur. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader word count: 3.5k tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), flashbacks from both reader's world and worst!logan's universe (in italics), no use of y/n. a/n: i'm so so surprised at how well the first part was received and i just want to thank everyone who's read it!!! i'm a sucker for angst and i'm so excited to make this into a longer series. in each part, there's gonna be a song that basically sums up the feels for the chapter. song: wherever you will go by the calling prev. part - next part.
“I’m not him.”
His words repeat in your mind like it’s some kind of mantra, trying to convince you that the Logan you saw a week ago wasn’t the same Logan you lost all those years ago.
But he was right there, so close and yet so far. The subtle touches that night only reminded you of the man you lost. Even after all this time, he still had such a strong hold on your heart.
But this Logan wasn’t yours and he made that very clear. It felt like the world was laughing in your face, taunting you by having the love of your life resurrected in a version that wanted nothing to do with you. You weren’t naive, you knew that this person wasn’t the same man you had fallen in love with, but your soul yearned for him and you knew he felt it too.
You never truly recovered from losing your Logan. Instead, you had just forced yourself to get up day in and day out for Laura because you knew that’s what Logan would have wanted you to do. As the years passed, you became numb to the loss of him. You tried not to think about him, tried not to reminisce of the moments you shared with each other, but there had been times throughout the years where something reminded you of him.
And every time, it crippled you. Took hold of every inch of your being until all you could think about was Logan and it broke your heart all over again.
But seeing him caused your entire world to stop, serving as a reminder of the gaping hole that your Logan left in your heart.
While you tried to forget your Logan, to just continue living your life until it was your turn to go, seeing a different version of him just brought back all of the memories you tried so hard to erase. You wanted to forget, wanted these memories of him gone from your mind because it just hurt too much.
But here he was. A walking reminder of the man you loved.
The man you lost.
And the man you will never get back.
–
“I’m not her.”
Logan couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night he saw you. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t her, to convince himself that you weren’t the same woman he lost.
But having you so close where he could have just reached out and touched you stirred a lot of unresolved emotions that he tried so hard to bury. He knew you weren’t the woman that he had fallen in with – you were just some version of her in this universe and he had to wonder if this was life’s way of punishing him for all of the things he had done in his.
Logan wanted to push you away and he made it very clear that night that he wasn’t your Logan and that he never would be. He needed to keep you at a distance, but every fiber of his being yearned for you. Since that night, all Logan could hear was your laugh, your voice. All he could see was your smile, your eyes that gazed up at him.
He tried so hard to snap out of it because you weren’t her.
And when he was alone, when the hope that things could be different finally vanished, all he could see now was the same woman who had died in his arms because of him. All he could hear was your voice, calling out to him to save you, and the last words you told him before you took your last breath.
He barely slept and drinking only did so much. This universe was supposed to be his second chance at being a better version of himself, but he didn’t know how he could do that when he knew you existed in this world.
Your mere existence haunted him, causing a lot of conflicting feelings.
He wanted another chance with you, but how could he do that when he knew that you were better off without him? Safer without him?
This Logan didn’t belong in this universe, he knew that much.
But he couldn’t help the hope that he felt within himself (and from you) that maybe this wasn’t life’s way of taunting you both, but rather a second chance to make things right.
To be happy.
To have an ending that you both deserve.
With each other.
—
“You know, I’d do anything for you,” you tell Logan, who’s lying in bed next to you. What had started as a very casual situationship had turned into something much more serious.
Logan started spending more and more nights at your place, finding comfort in your presence. You were the calm within the storm, the peace within the chaos. He didn’t know when things changed, when things shifted, but his soul yearned for you.
“I know you would, bub,” he’d reply. Logan never made his feelings for you known, never made it obvious because if he did, it would make things more complicated than he already made it to be. He often wondered why he found you so late in his life, after everything he had been through, Logan finally had a chance of happiness but he didn’t know how long he had.
He could feel that his body was much different than before. Could feel the pain of his wounds last longer before it healed itself.
But you made him feel young again, made him feel like he finally deserved a life that he had seen others live. A chance to be happy. A chance to love.
“I’m serious, Logan.”
“I know,” he repeats.
“I think I love you.” you admit.
Logan sits up in bed abruptly. He can feel his chest tightening with so many emotions: relief, joy, fear. He feels you reach out for him and he just stands up, gathering his clothes and beginning to put them back on without a word.
“Logan–”
“No,” he growls. “No.”
You scramble to your feet, grabbing the sheet from your bed to wrap around your naked frame. With one arm holding it up, you use your other hand to rest on his chest. “Stop running.”
“Ain’t running. We both know exactly what this was, bub,” Logan says, shrugging your hand off of him. “I ain’t good for you, and we both know that.”
“Don’t you love me too?” you ask, voice quivering as you take a step away from him. “I know who you are, what you are, the things you’ve done and seen… but I love all of you. The good, the bad. All of it.”
Logan pulls on his black slacks and white tank top, glancing over at you. He feels tethered to you, feels like if he walks out of that door that he wouldn’t come back and he’d never fully recover.
“Of course, I love you,” Logan admits. “But I can’t– We can’t–” he feels his breath hitch in his throat. “I mean it. I ain’t good for you, bub. You deserve someone better than me.”
“I deserve you,” you hesitantly reach out for him, afraid that he’s going to pull away from you again. “There is no one better than you, Logan.”
“Things don’t ever work out for me,” he whispers, looking down at your hand that moves to take hold of his. “If I lose you, I won’t ever forgive myself.”
“You won’t lose me,” you promise.
“You don’t know that.”
“What happens if I lose you? What happens then?”
Logan shrugs. “You’ll be fine.”
You shake your head in disagreement. “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you tell him honestly. “My heart will always belong to you. In every lifetime. In every universe, I’m yours.”
Logan gazes at you and can see the tears in your eyes. Your free hand moves to rest gently on his chest, above his beating heart. You look at him in a way that no one ever has, that despite all of the things he has done, you still see the good in him.
And it was in that moment that Logan promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy, to make sure you knew how much he loved you.
“In every lifetime. In every universe,” he repeats, voice quiet as he leans into you…
Suddenly, you awake, gasping for air as you scramble to reach out to the empty space next to you. “Logan…” you call out for him, the sudden realization hitting you straight to your core. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you bring your legs up to your chest, beginning to cry into your knees. Your dreams – or rather memories – of Logan occur almost every night since meeting some version of him last week.
This new Logan had the same exterior as your Logan, haunted by his own memories, by his regrets and failures. But you couldn’t help the fact that while you were yearning and missing your Logan, you also craved this new Logan.
Was this life’s way of giving you another chance?, you had to wonder. And if it was, would you take it?
—
It was another morning where Logan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor on the coffee table as he tried so hard to forget you and erase the memories that tied you to him. But even when he closed his eyes, you were all he could see.
“So, you do like me,” you grin up at him.
“I tolerate ya,” Logan answers with a smirk.
“Hm,” you gaze up at him. “I think you more than tolerate me. Just admit it, Logan. You like me.”
“And so what if I do, bub?” he asks, taking a careful step into your personal space. Logan can hear your heart race begin to beat faster and he smiles to himself. There had always been an instant attraction that he felt towards you when he came to the mansion and found you teaching a literature class to mutants. You had locked eyes with him as he was passing your classroom and flashed him a smile.
Logan never believed in love at first sight, but you had certainly made an impression on him from that brief glance alone. The more he got to know you and spend time with you, the stronger his feelings for you grew.
“If you do – which I think you do,” you begin. “Then I’d tell you that I like you too. A lot, actually.”
Now it was Logan’s turn to feel his heart racing at your admission. When he was around you, Logan felt calmer. And you always looked at him like he was someone worthy of your attention. Logan knew early on that there was a lingering longing for you, a craving that showed him he wanted more of you.
“That so, sweetheart?” Logan grins, hand gently resting on your cheek. His touch was such a stark contrast from what he was capable of. The same hands that were now touching you had hurt so many other people and yet with you, he was gentle, careful.
“Yeah, Logan,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “And I’d very much like it if you could kiss me now.”
“I think you’re trouble,” he mumbles, running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “If I kiss you now, that makes you mine.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Logan,” you reply, gently grazing your teeth across the tip of his thumb.
“I ain’t ever gonna let you go,” Logan admits. “There is no going back if we do this.”
“I know,” you whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it. I want you.”
Logan stares into your eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you were lying. But you never did lie to him. In fact, you were the most honest person he’s ever met. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to give into this because he knows that who he is and what he is is a danger to anyone that’s close to him.
And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you.
“Are you sure?” Logan asks.
“I’ll always be yours, Logan,” you admit honestly. “In every lifetime and in every universe, I’m yours.”
Logan hears the sound of Althea cursing aloud, which causes his eyes to open as he looks around. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not in the same universe anymore and there’s a sudden realization when he remembers that you were gone. In his universe, you were dead.
He pays no attention to Althea, grabbing his liquor bottle and grunting in her direction before he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once the door shuts, Logan sits on the edge of his bed and lies back, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of you. Thinks of the night he saw you last week. The sound of your voice, the sound of your laughter, the sight of your smile, the gaze in your eyes…
“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he mumbles to himself.
—
Later that night, Wade’s having his weekly family dinner again. Logan tries to make an excuse that he’s going to leave for the night, that he doesn’t want to participate or be around anyone, but Wade saw right through it.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Wade asks, setting up the table and making sure to gather chairs around it. “I don’t even know if she’s coming,” he lies.
“Laura will be here.”
“Doesn’t mean that she will be.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not be here if she is.”
“You know, you’d think that seeing the woman you love alive again would get you excited. Instead, you’re running away like you usually do,” Wade says seriously. “You know what happened in your universe wasn’t–”
“Enough,” Logan interrupts. “We don’t talk about my universe anymore, got it?”
Wade raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. All I’m saying… This is your second chance to be better, Peanut. Why not actually make a life for yourself here?”
“Because I don’t belong here,” Logan answers and then grabs a case of beer from the fridge along with another bottle of whiskey. “I’ll be in my room. I won’t bother you and you don’t bother me. Got it?”
“Sheesh,” Wade says. “Fine, Peanut.”
Logan grumbles under his breath and then walks into his room, shutting the door behind him and quickly opening a bottle of beer that he downs with ease.
As the hours pass, Logan tries to tune out the chatter coming from the living room. He doesn’t hear your voice amongst the amount of people in the apartment and while that should provide him some relief, it instead does the opposite. It disappoints him. He wants you nearby, wants to hear your voice, your laugh, smell your scent from miles away.
Logan wants you here.
And just as his mind drifts, he hears a knock on his door.
“Don’t bother me,” he calls out.
The knocking persists and he lets out a sigh of frustration. Logan stands from the bed and then swings the door open to see Laura standing on the other side of the door.
“What do you want?”
“For you to talk to her,” she answers, completely unbothered by his attitude. “I think you both can help each other.”
“Yeah, well that ain’t happening, kid. Now, please–” Logan’s about to shut the door when the younger woman’s hand reaches out to stop it from closing.
“I know she isn’t her and I know you aren’t him, but I also know that you both are thinking the same thing.”
“Yeah? And what’s that, kid?”
“That this can be a second chance for the both of you.”
“Ain’t no such thing as second chances,” Logan replies.
“You saved our world, Logan,” Laura says softly. “You saved her.”
Logan can feel his chest tightening. “I killed her,” he corrects. “In my universe, I–” he shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just leave me alone, kid.”
This time, Laura allows him to close the door.
—
You’re pacing in front of Wade’s front door, heart beating out of our chest in anticipation that you might see Logan again. This was the first time in the last week that you managed to get yourself out of bed, having called out from work for an entire week. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and ironically, Logan’s flannel. Your Logan’s.
With a deep breath, you knock on the door and see it swing open. Wade’s on the other side with a large grin, welcoming you inside.
“You made it,” he grins.
“I’m only here to pick up Laura,” you correct him.
“Well, you and the big guy are certainly avoiding each other,” Wade points out. “Why is that?”
“Wade,” you sigh quietly. “I’m just here to pick up Laura,” you repeat.
Wade sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. But between you and me? This seems like a second chance that not a lot of people get.”
You don’t respond and see Laura round the corner. You smile in her direction and pull her into a hug. You can tell that her having another Logan in this universe is also taking a toll on her and you try to tell yourself, to convince yourself, that you need to be better for her.
“Ready to go?” you ask.
“Yeah, think so.”
“Great, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then we’ll head out.”
You release her and walk down the hallway to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and sigh, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you feel tears threaten to spill over. You know he’s here, know that he’s somewhere close because you can feel his presence.
Logan had been on high alert the moment you entered the apartment building. His heart rate picks up when he can smell your scent waft through his senses followed by your voice. It isn’t until he hears you enter the bathroom and begin crying that he feels a twist in the pit of his stomach.
He probably shouldn’t be focusing his hearing on you, especially since it seems like just being here was causing you so much pain, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the closest he can get to you while keeping you at a distance.
—
After a few minutes, you wipe your eyes and make yourself presentable. You know if Laura sees you crying, she’s going to want to do everything in her power to make you feel better and you don’t want to burden her with your feelings.
With a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom with your eyes gazed downwards. Suddenly, you bump into someone’s hardened chest and your hands immediately reach out. There’s a sense of familiarity with your touch and when you slowly look up, you see Logan gazing down at you.
“Logan, I–”
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to move away. He just keeps his eyes locked on yours. Logan keeps his hands at his sides, his fingertips itching to touch you, to feel you.
You drop your hands back to your side and bite your lower lip in embarrassment. You’re both standing in the hallway, away from the sounds of chatter and laughter.
“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I should have watched where I was going.”
Logan just nods, but instead, he takes an inch step towards you. It causes you to take a step back until your back gently touches the wall. He’s crowding your space, gazing into your eyes. Logan knows that he should run, knows that he should keep himself far from you, but he can’t.
Your souls are tied to each other, bonded in every lifetime. Even if he tried to forget about you, tried to keep himself at arm’s length, Logan knows that it would only hurt you (and him) more.
Logan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares into your eyes and just like the version of you in his universe, you’re looking at him like he’s enough, like all you can see is the good in him. And it makes his heart swell, reminds him of the moment he locked eyes with you in his universe for the first time.
And maybe Wade was right. Maybe this is his second chance at making things right.
Slowly, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan feels an electric pull towards you at the soft touch and he knows you felt it too.
Quietly, Logan whispers, “In every universe and in every lifetime, I’m yours.”
You feel your breath catch in your throat, remembering the dream you had earlier this morning and those same words you told your Logan when you told him you loved him for the first time.
Maybe Wade had a point. Maybe this is your second chance.
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman wolverine#hugh jackman character#hugh jackman character fanfiction#hugh jackman character fanfic#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fanfic#wolverine#worst wolverine#wolverine fanfic#wolverine fanfiction#worst wolverine fanfic#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#post deadpool & wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#worst logan!variant#logan howlett x f!reader#story: in every lifetime
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c/w: hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, outlaw!rafe being his usual self, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe, 18+ mdni!
wc: 2.3k
hope u enjoy xx
part 1 part 2 & part 4 part 5
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The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed— covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow.
She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.
Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.
“Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” she stops to stand next to him.
“Cause you sleep like a fuckin’ rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers.
Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract—letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing.
“Oh. Thanks?”
Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.
“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.
“Do you— do you need help with that?”
“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before scribbling something down.
“Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.
“Did you want something or what?” his tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.
“No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” she can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.
“Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I dunno, go to your room or something? You’re botherin’ me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.
Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that.
And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.
All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.
She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.
And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.
Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...
It's wrong.
It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.
It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage?
She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does.
Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.
She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.
“Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.
“Rafe, what the fuck?” she quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him.
“Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” she complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.
“Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.
“And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.
“Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” he belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh.
And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.
They both tense.
“You’re expecting someone?” his tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.
“N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.
“Did you fucking call someone?” he takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.
“No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” she tries to fruitlessly defend herself.
“I swear, if you’re lying right now—”
“I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?”
The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options.
“Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.
She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.
Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms.
“Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” she tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels.
“We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade.
“Have you seen this man recently?” the other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.
“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” she bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it.
“This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron Development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression.
“Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.
“Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.
“I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way.
“That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.
“Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying.
“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”
“Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.
“We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.
Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.
“Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” his gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.
“You killed a cop?” she decides to ignore his teasing.
“Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever.
“Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” he tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.
“You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” she snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.
“Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” his hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.
“I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.
“Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” he demands, halting his movements.
“Did they, uh, tell you anything?” he speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation.
“Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.
“I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.
“They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”
“N— no, why?” her voice wavers as she swallows around the question.
He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.
“Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”
She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.
#he's funny#loving the build up tbh#but fear not smut is on the way!#outlaw!rafe#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#obx smut#obx fic#obx#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#stockholm syndrome
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If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?
That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭
Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!
Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.
A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness
Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth
Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.
Word count: 2,6k
Requested? Yes.
Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.
Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.
Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.
You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.
— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.
— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.
— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.
Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.
— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.
Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.
— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.
— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.
— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..
— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.
Penny-One simply turns to you.
— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.
You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).
Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?
At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.
Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.
Did you fall asleep?
That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.
You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.
— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.
Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.
— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.
— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.
— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…
— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.
— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.
— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.
The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.
— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.
Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.
It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.
— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.
— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.
— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.
— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.
— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?
— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…
— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.
— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.
— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.
— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.
— Then why aren't you there?
Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.
— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.
— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).
You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.
They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.
You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.
Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.
Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.
You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.
And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.
This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.
It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.
You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.
You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.
— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.
— You’re late. — Batman states.
— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.
Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.
— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.
— GET. OUT!
— But-
— OUT!
— But, (Y/N)-
— NOW! GET OUT NOW!
They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.
— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.
— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.
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#bruce wayne x reader#yandere dc#justice league#yandere batman x reader#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#masterlist#yandere justice league x reader#yandere justice league#hal jordan x reader#yandere hal jordan x reader#justice league x reader#diana prince x reader#yandere diana prince x reader#yandere green lantern x reader#green lantern x reader#yandere superman#superman x reader#yandere superman x reader#clark kent x reader#yandere clark kent x reader#yandere martian manhunter x reader#yandere aquaman x reader#yandere arthur curry x reader#arthur curry x reader#yandere wonder woman x reader#bruce wayne x assistant reader#justice league x assistant reader#yandere barry allen x reader#yandere flash x reader
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The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)
Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly
can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))
Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother
Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them
-🌑
I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader
ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)
Parts: 2
With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.
Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.
"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.
"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.
"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.
"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.
"Hey... take it easy—"
"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"
"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"
"I fucking said what I said!"
"Fuck you!"
"FUCK YOU!!"
The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.
"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."
"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.
For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.
However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.
Even though you convince yourself you were happier.
You never felt secure.
You always felt like something was out to get you.
Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?
You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.
"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.
"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.
"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.
"Thank you"
Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.
"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.
"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.
You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.
Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.
....
"Will it work?"
........
"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"
...........
"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"
...............
"Yes sir"
.....................
"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"
...............................
Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.
You were... in a cage?
You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.
"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.
It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.
"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.
"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.
"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.
"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.
"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"
Powers? You have to be high right?
Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?
Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?
"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.
Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.
"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.
As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.
"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.
"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.
"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.
Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...
"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.
"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.
Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.
"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.
"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.
Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.
"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.
Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.
But why is this happening?
Why you?
The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.
"So... did you like my gift?"
"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.
"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.
His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.
"What do you want from me?"
"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.
"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.
"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.
"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.
Fuck... this cannot be your life now...
You're now an animal kept in a cage.
Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.
You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.
"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.
"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"
"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.
"He knows I'm here?"
"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"
Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.
"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.
"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.
"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.
"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.
When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?
After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.
"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.
"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.
"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.
He did?
"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.
The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.
"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.
"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.
"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.
"Don't touch me"
"I got it"
The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?
"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.
"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.
"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.
Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.
"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.
"They can protect you"
"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"
"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.
"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.
"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.
"What the fuck did they do to you...?"
"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.
"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.
Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.
"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.
"Thank you..." You muttered.
After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.
"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.
"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.
"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"
"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.
"Do we go after them sir?"
"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.
(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)
#Homelander: haha got your nose 🤪#can i get some fries and a big mac#the boys amazon#the boys#the boys frenchie#the boys butcher#the boys mothers milk#the boys kimiko#the boys billy butcher#the boys hughie#the boys x you#the boys x y/n#the boys x reader#the boys x female reader#butcher x reader#homelander x reader#x reader#angst#the boys angst#frenchie x reader#hughie x reader#mm x reader#kimiko x reader#the boys homelander#homelander#fluff
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ykw i am having so much fan watching you be a hater, that i’ve decided to ask for more. PLEASE give us a rant about a book you hated.
Haha aw I'm honored. And uh I hope you don't have any particular attachment to Becky Chambers. Sorry in advance.
But A Psalm for the Wild-Built won a Hugo and I do not get the love. Book 1 was nice enough, yeah. Book 2 had me tearing my hair out.
Sibling Dex is a restless Tea Monk who serves the God of Small comforts on the science-fantasy planet of Panga. I genuinely love the idea of a tea monk - part therapist, part confessor, travels around to the different towns, mixes tea blends for people, lets them talk about their worries and fears and stresses, and gives them, if not advice, then sympathy and a listening ear and some calming tea. This is meaningful work but they're unhappy. After doing this for a while they're still unsatisfied with their life, so they go into the woods searching for self-actualization, and meet a robot named Mosscap, a wild robot that lives in the woods. See, hundreds of years ago, all the robots "woke up" and became sentient one day, then they staged a quiet rebellion against humanity's greed and industrialization by walking into the woods and never coming back. Now, the continent is split in half: humans stay on the Human Side, and robots stay on the Robot Side. The Robot Side is kept wild and humans are discouraged from going in there because humans can't be trusted not to ruin Nature. The rpbots are welcome to come to the Human Side, they just never have. Dex is the first person in a While to venture into the woods of the Robot Side, and the first human since the great walkout to see a robot. Mosscap gives Dex a lot of philosophical pep talks about not pushing themself so hard, about allowing themself to just rest and appreciate the world without feeling like they need to be Providing A Service to justify their existence. It's a nice theme. Underbaked, imo, but nice. Relateable.
Book 2 was a goddamn mess.
Book 1 mostly takes place in the wilderness of the woods, so it's okay if the nice utopian human community Dex comes from was sketchily-built. It Just Works, and everyone Is Just Nice, this is a science-fantasy parable. There were some issues I had with it - like the strict ideological and physical divide between Nature and Humans, and the fact that Dex's religion seems to be the Only Religion In The World, and it's vaguely secular-humanist with the gods being not "really" gods but names given to primordial forces and philosophical concepts, and the religion not really making any demands of its adherents in any way except to become their best selves and devote themselves to what they like... it's potentially interesting, but overall kinda lazy. It felt like Becky Chambers was aware of the idea that having an enlightened-atheist sci-fi utopia is Problematic, so she made there be a central religion, but she also didn't want it to have any of the ~icky~ things religions have, like belief in anything supernatural, or dietary restrictions, or creeds, or codes of behavior, or expectations to make any kind of sacrifice in any way. All the gods "ask" is that humans observe and appreciate the world. But whatever.
In book 2, Dex and Mosscap return to Dex's society, and the book seems to want to explain how the world works, and oh my GOD is Chambers not prepared to do this.
"Observe and appreciate" is all anyone is asked to do. Book 2, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, is an ode to ultimate virtue of Doing Nothing. There's this attitude I see in a LOT of utopian fiction, where the author is bluntly just not a good enough author to imagine a utopian society where people act like people, so in the world of Panga, utopian society is achieved through 1) homogeneity 2) no one giving a crap about anything.
As far as I can tell, there is the one religion. Most people are Fine with this. Most people are Fine with anything. There are no characters with distinct personalities. There's no money, except there is, except it's not real money and no one will deny you anything if your balance is in the red, even though your balance is available to be seen by anyone - this does not cause any kind of shame or pride or competition in any way, and Dex doesn't understand why it might. There are no hierarchies or governing bodies, people just volunteer to step up when things need doing (this is portrayed as great and not deeply concerning). There are different communities, but in them, everyone is uniformly nice, friendly, and helpful at all times. There are some parts of nature, like the seashore, where people are not allowed to go because they'll ruin the environment, and this is accepted as correct and necessary. Most people live in hippie, pro-recycling, high-tech, end-of-history green communities; there's one group they visit, however, that doesn't trust technology, and lives in a vaguely sci-fi-Amish way. You might think, Dex travelling around with a robot, this might cause conflict! It does not. The people from this community calmly explain their anti-technology position, Dex calmly explains their pro-technology position, and they politely respect each other. "Not bothered either way" is a phrase that turns up in various permutations a lot and is held up as the good, mature, responsible way to be.
There's a scene where they catch a fish for dinner, and instead of killing it, the scifi-Amish guy says "We let the air do that for us, and they let the fish slowly suffocate to death in the air while they all look on solemnly and sadly. This is portrayed as a deep, beautiful moment of them witnessing and honoring the final moments of a living being's life. And not. y'know. them torturing a living being to death so they can keep their own hands clean.
This is what I mean about the valorization of passivity: observing is all you are ever obligated to do. Letting a fish die in the air is better than killing it quickly and humanely, because doing things gets your hands dirty, while letting things simply happen is the Correct way to do it.
At the end, Mosscap and Dex blow off all their promises and appointments and just hang out at the beach chilling out instead, because do what you want forever, you don't have to do shit. This is the happy affirming ending. Mosscap you fucking said you'd meet with the city leaders as the robot ambassador to the humans, did you tell them you were blowing off this commitment because you didn't feel like doing that anymore??? Did you even let them know??????
It is SUCH a baffling book. The theme wants to be "you are more than your job, you deserve to just Be" and ends up feeling like "you don't have to do anything ever, and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do if you don't feel like it, and you don't owe anyone anything and searching for a purpose in your life is just making you stressed out so chill at the beach instead."
The thing that drives me crazy is like. Mosscap cheerfully tells Dex about robots that spend twenty years in a cave watching stalactites form because they think it's beautiful, and those robots are just as much a valued part of society as anyone else. Appreciating beauty and wonder is good enough, you don't need to be productive. And I'm just. fuckin. like. Humans are not robots! Robots don't need to eat or sleep! Humans need food, and clothes, and shelter, and medical care, and if we don't have SOMEONE working to provide that, we Die! Nice as it would be, we CAN'T just all do nothing forever until we feel like it! We can't do that!
And at the same time, the book bizarrely treats wanting a purpose in life as like... almost disordered. If you are seeking a purpose in life it's because you just haven't let go of your guilt and relaxed enough. It's bizarre. Valorization of passivity. Humans aren't meant to be in nature so we just Shouldn't. Doing nothing and having no strong opinions is the most self-affirmed you can possibly be. Letting a fish suffocate is more moral than quickly breaking its neck or spiking its brain. Someone else will do it. Who, if we're all supposed to be resting and only doing what we feel like? Don't worry about it.
"The heart of this book is comfort [...] There is nothing in it that can hurt you." YOU LIAR BECKY CHAMBERS THE FISH SCENE STILL DISTURBS AND UPSETS ME TO THIS DAY
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The Idea of You (LN4)
2. The Idea of Worthiness
summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you
previous ••• next
WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness
wc: 3k
“but what if i can't do it?”
A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!
january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm
you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.
of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.
despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.
the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.
now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.
now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.
as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.
what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.
it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.
what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.
he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.
and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.
even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.
“such a kind soul”
“such a beautiful boy”
“smart, funny”
“talented guy”
that's what people would say, in the best of cases.
in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.
well, following next to depression was anxiety.
lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.
it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?
he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.
even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.
and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.
this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.
but you had tried.
you: lando hey
you: i'm worried abt u
you: text me whenever u get the chance pls
you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”
there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.
you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.
you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.
hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.
you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?
the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.
lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.
you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.
“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”
when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.
—
unbeknownst to you, he was okay.
at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.
“i’m okay.”
but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.
far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.
it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?
what if i’m not enough for her? he thought
a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.
the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.
what if she hates me?
with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.
he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.
what if i fail her?
lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.
every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.
she's too perfect, i'm a mess
as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?
with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?
what if she saw me for who i truly am?
taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.
“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.
“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.
“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.
“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.
the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.
lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.
“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.
lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.
"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”
max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.
“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”
lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”
max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”
lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”
“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”
lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.
“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.
max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”
lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.
“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”
max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”
after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.
TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff
#lando x reader#lando norris angst#angst#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#lando angst#lando norris#mclaren#ln4 mcl#ln4
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HELL-FIRE. luke (pjo) - pt 1
PART 1 > PART 2 (in progress)
IN WHICH… Y/N doesn’t want to admit it, but perhaps she and the mischievous son of Hermes have more in common than she originally thought.
“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”
Warnings : mentions of abuse
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
—
The cold water lapped at Y/N’s shoulders as she sank into the tub placed strategically in the corner of the empty cabin.
Life as a forbidden kid was hard. You had no siblings and everybody was expecting you to do grand things. A small sigh slipped past Y/N’s lips as the water heated up until it was at a temperature that almost scolded her skin. Perhaps it was because Hades, the king of the Underworld, was her father but Y/N always found herself fascinated by fire. She loved to watch the blue, orange, and yellow flames flicker in the dim darkness.
It wasn’t until her arrival at Camp Half-Blood did it all make sense. Y/N, the daughter of Hades, was able to control fire. Though, she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. It all came in random bursts and every time she walked along the crisp green grass, a trail of brightly lit flames slithered after her.
The Demeter kids hated her for ruining the plush red roses that took them weeks to nurture. Y/N could understand their fury and she did her best to avoid their plants now, especially because her fire favoured the taste of Demeter’s flowers.
A quiet knock on the wooden door interrupted Y/N’s peace. She slowly rose from the water, droplets running down her finger tips. She slowly dried herself with a soft cotton towel before slipping her bright orange shirt over her head. She slid on a pair of loosely fitting pants before turning the knob, harshly pulling the door open.
“Do you need something?” Y/N asked, frowning at the small kid in front of her. He trembled and took a nervous step back.
“Luke… he… he told me to give this to you.” The kid stretched out his hand, practically shaking as Y/N stared down at the dark red rose. A lousy gift in her opinion.
Luke was the son of Hermes and the head counsellor of his cabin. He was popular amongst the campers and girls constantly swooned over him. Y/N, on the other hand, had no interest in romance. It had always been that way ever since she was born.
Y/N was conceived into this cruel world with a cold and empty heart. Her mother thought of it as a personality disorder at first until she realized that it was just how Y/N was. No amount of love forced into her arms could change the deep anger boiling inside of her.
Y/N took the rose, peering at it and scowling. “You’ve done your job. Scram.” She shooed the young Hermes kid away, almost shoving him off her rickety wooden porch. She caught sight of Luke watching her through the clean window of his own cabin.
He had never shown much interest in her before until a year ago, where we witnessed her easily take down some of the best fighters in camp.
He grinned at her, a gesture that should have made her heart flutter. But it didn’t. Y/N silently stared at him, feeling the sudden heat rush to her fingers. She lit the rose alight and it didn’t take long until only a few crisp and blackened petals remained in her grasp.
She quickly dropped them, scattering the remains of the once beautiful flower everywhere. It acted as a constant reminder that no matter how hard Luke tried, she was simply immune to his charm.
It’s not like Y/N didn’t want to love, because she did. She saw the Aphrodite kids treating Valentine’s Day like it was some big festivals. And she noticed how many of the boys in the Apollo cabin always had their eyes glued to one of the Athena girls.
They looked at her like she was a pile of treasure; like a precious jewel. They stared at her with such admiration and adoration that Y/N felt a little jealous. How come she couldn’t love while others could?
It was probably because of the darkness lurking within her, feasting away at every small spark of happiness until it was gone, resting in the belly of the beast. Anger, jealousy, and hatred consumed her easily. And she was bitter because of it.
It was pitch black by the time Y/N collapsed on her soft mattress. She was clad in shorts and a black crop top to battle the humid weather during Summer. She was half asleep when a quiet tap and rattle woke her.
Y/N quietly groaned. She knew who was waiting by her window, wearing a spare camp t-shirt and dusty grey shorts that stopped above his knees. His tapping become quicker and sharper until Y/N had no choice but to fling the window open.
“What?” She hissed at Luke.
He always came at the same time every night. Twelve o’clock sharp in hopes of wooing her. Y/N wasn’t stupid, she knew he was after something else that wasn’t romance related but until she figured out what, she wasn’t comfortable being alone in his presence.
Luke simply smiled, resting his chin on the sill. “Walk with me?” He questioned, jabbing a thumb over his right shoulder.
“It’s past curfew.” Y/N sharply retorted, glowering at him. Beams of moonlight shone down on the pair, acting as if the world were a stage that needed to be lit. Y/N could clearly see Luke tilt his head to the side, gazing up at her through his lashes.
“It’ll be quick.” He was persistent as always.
“What part of not interested confuses you?” Y/N threw the covers back over her body, prepared to crash her head against her feathered pillow and let her eyes flutter shut.
"One walk and I'll stop annoying you for a week."
That made Y/N pause. She stared at Luke, narrowing her eyes. A week wasn't long but it was better than putting up with his presence constantly. "Okay." She slowly said, causing Luke to victoriously grin. He pumped his fist.
"If we get caught, you have to take the blame." Y/N warned Luke as she stepped out of her cabin, pointing sternly at him. He wrapped a lock of her H/C hair around his finger, standing too close to comfort.
"I'd take every blame for you." He whispered, playfully winking. Y/N rolled her eyes in reply.
"I'd let you rot in a ditch." She pushed him away, storming down the stairs of the small porch. He clicked his tongue, eyes glazing over her movements. He jogged to catch up with her, his hand brushing against her leg.
The slight breeze surrounded the two of them as Y/N glanced up at the shining stars, her eyes darting around to spot all the different constellations. Luke followed her gaze, arching an eyebrow.
"What are you staring at?" He asked, licking his chapped lips. Y/N's eyes darted to look at him before she rolled her eyes, not saying anything.
"Can't you take a hint to be quiet?" She muttered after a minute of painful silence.
"No, I can. It's a choice to annoy you." He slyly smiled, bumping Y/N with his hip. She scoffed, shoving her hand into his face.
The crickets chirped loudly as Y/N walked past them, Luke following close behind. The air was colder now and Y/N relished the feeling of it against her skin. She almost forgot the son of Hermes was with her before he cleared his throat.
"No fire following behind us?" He questioned. He was used to the flames that often licked at Y/N's ankles but never dared burn her.
"That would get us caught." Y/N retorted. She faltered for a second, "Me, I mean. It would get me caught."
Luke lowly chuckled. "Nah, too late, Blaze. You said us. So there is something between us. And here I thought you only saw me as an obnoxious idiot."
Y/N sharply clicked her tongue, glaring at him. "Don't call me Blaze. And yes, I do see you as one."
"What would you prefer then? Conflagration? Inferno? Oh, what about Holocaust?"
"I didn't even know you knew those words." Y/N uttered, blankly staring at Luke. But Blaze was surely better than being called Holocaust.
"Blaze it is." Luke slung an arm around Y/N's shoulder, carefully testing the waters. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the air and Y/N quickly shrugged Luke's arm off, panicking slightly.
"Don't touch me." She said. It was supposed to be a harsh command but it came out as more of a desperate warning. Y/N's eyes darted to Luke's burnt skin. She scowled, at both his persistence to hold her and her inability to control her angry flames. It's not like she was actively trying to hurt people. It just... happened.
"I think it's time for you to leave." She said, her voice nothing more than a whisper. "Get your arm checked."
"It's late, no Apollo kid will be awake." His sizzling flesh didn't phase him in the slightest. He had dealt with worse, far worse. Like Clarisse's spear. "Besides, I like walking with you."
"At least soak your arm in water. It'll bring down the stinging sensation as well as protect it from risk of infection." Y/N was hesitant to even get near Luke, afraid of what her ability might do lest she lost control. But Luke was fearless. He'd grip her wrist a million times, even if it meant getting burnt, just to feel her skin against his.
He was like Icarus, unrelenting in his pursuit for greatness. He adored Y/N like Icarus loved the sun; too fast and too close. In a way, Y/N was death reincarnated. Pupils so big that it was unsettling, a glare so intense it could swallow you up, and a dark grace that followed her every move. Icarus died with broken wings but a fulfilled soul, just as Luke would if it meant he could hold Y/N.
Y/N led Luke towards a small pond and dipped her hand into the cool water. It started bubbling and Y/N instantly recoiled. Luke watched her, curious.
"Why do you do that?" He asked, gaining Y/N's wavering attention.
"Do what?" She muttered, furrowing her brows in confusion. Luke lightly chuckled, staring down at the rippling water.
"The fire thing. And heating up water. Why?"
Y/N shrugged. "It's not like I do it on purpose. It's random. Heating up water is easy enough but the flames are weird. I've tried spotting a pattern but I just can't see it." Y/N held up a finger, heat rushing to the tip. A flame flickered but it wasn't like her usual orange or blue ones. It was pink.
A light pink hue reflected off Luke's face as he peered at the fire, his eyes darting to follow its wild movements. He slowly dipped his charred arm into the water, grinning at Y/N who found slight amusement in playing with the pink flame.
"You ever think your flames follow your emotions?" He piped up, tilting his head to the side.
"Excuse me?"
"Your emotions. Maybe they control your fire." He shrugged, "Your flames are usually orange but when you get angry, which happens a lot, they turn blue. And the pink... I don't know. Love?"
Y/N sneered. "Love? Who would I be in love with?" It was a ridiculous suggestion. Stupid, even. Love didn't exist in Y/N L/N's world. Luke raised his brows, silently gesturing to himself. "I'd rather kiss a dragon."
Luke reached out to touch the flame and Y/N pulled away in a panic. "Don't!" She exclaimed, but Luke's hand was already waving through the fire. It didn't hurt in the slightest and Luke smiled. Y/N's whole hand exploded into pink-toned flames and she jumped, waving her hand around until the fire went out.
"Blaze... Do your emotions... scare you?" Luke asked. Y/N lightly scoffed, glaring at Luke as she always did. A flicker of blue glazed over her E/C eyes and then it was replaced with orange which quickly shifted into pink. And it finally returned to blue before disappearing as quickly as it came.
"Your eyes... they, uh..." Luke didn't know how to describe it. "Do they... somewhat flame up a lot?"
"Ignore that." She grumbled, shielding her face from Luke's hawk-like gaze.
"You intrigue me. Why do you act so bitter all the time, Y/N?" Luke questioned, clearing his throat. She paused, lightly biting down on her bottom lip. He didn't have room to judge because despite carrying around a kind and caring facade, Luke was just as mean as her underneath it all. Y/N just... didn't bother to hide it while Luke turned his head every time his eyes darkened or his lips curled into a disgusted sneer.
"I don't have a reason. Do you ever think that maybe I'm not acting and that I was born this way? Because I'm pretty sure I was."
"There's a reason for everything."
"Okay, you want to know why?!" Y/N exclaimed, fed up with all his questions and teasing. Luke calmly gestured her to continue.
"I hate them. I hate the deities above who call themselves our godly parents. They are just as fucked up as us, if not more. I mean, what were they thinking? Fucked up people give birth to fucked up kids. They underestimate us and abandon us and still think that we'll worship the ground they walk on. If I'm being honest, I don't think they love us. My father... Hades... he had an opportunity to save me from the abuse my mother was inflicting on me."
Luke's facial expression softened. His eyes locked with Y/N's angry ones and for a split second, he saw himself in her. A demigod desperate to prove themselves to their parent only to be disappointed.
"And you know what was worse? I saw him. I met him. He came to our house one day and I didn't know it was him in that moment but after I got here, it all made sense. The man who randomly showed up on the doorstep all those years ago and acted like he knew everything about me... was my father. The same man who dumped me in the horrible care of my mother. Hades, the supposedly only God who loved his half-blood child, actually abandoned her when he had the choice to take her with him."
"I get what you mean." Luke muttered, shifting closer to her. She didn't stop him. "I feel abandoned too. My dad, he did something similar. I agree with you when you say that the gods don't love us... because I don't think they do either. We're just... their pawns. You see this scar?"
Luke's finger trailed over the scar that adorned the side of his face. "My father... he gave me a quest that Hercules had already completed. I didn't want to do something someone else had already done but I thought, how hard could it be? And I failed it... I failed the quest. And some stupid dragon scratched me and gave me this scar."
"I don't get why they think we're expendable." Y/N's hands clenched into fists and she clicked her tongue. She turned to Luke, flinching at how close he was all of a sudden.
It all happened too quickly. One second Y/N's lips accidently brushed against Luke's and the next the whole field around the pond burst into a flood of pink flames. Y/N and Luke stood in front of Chiron, hands clasped behind them. Luke stared at the ground in shame while Y/N wasn't scared to look Chiron in the eye.
"You not only snuck out past curfew, which is breaking rules, but Miss Y/N, you also burned a fellow camper and set flames to the grass."
"Chiron, sneaking out past curfew was my idea." Luke, as promised, took responsibility for his actions. "And she can't control her fire and I provoked her so I deserved it anyway." Luke shrugged.
"That still doesn't excuse your behavior. I expect you to clean all the sword before the Ares kids mess them all up again."
Y/N scoffed under her breath. "This is all your fault. I can't believe I snuck out with you of all people." Y/N poked his shoulder and a small pink flame danced across his shirt before dissolving into thin air.
"Pink means love." Luke teased.
"I will burn you again." Y/N threatened, stomping on his foot.
"Hey, you wouldn't burn your ranting partner so soon, would you?" He grinned.
Y/N didn't want to admit it but she did share a lot of similarities with Luke. From their hatred for the gods to the feeling of being abandoned. "Talking with you wasn't entirely terrible." She muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Thanks, Blaze." He gently grasped her hand, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckle. Y/N jumped and everything went up in flames again. Literally. "Y/N... Y/N, you're on fire. You are on fire!" But it didn't hurt. The flames wrapped around her like a comforting blanket as Luke stared at her in both awe and confusion. "It's kinda cool actually. It looks like you're glowing." Luke chuckled while she glared at him, wildly trying to pat the pink fire out.
"Come on, just admit you like me, Blaze. Even just a little bit. You find me pretty, don't you?"
"I do not!" Y/N exclaimed, the flames growing stronger. Luke teasingly raised his brows, staring at her with a knowing smirk. She scoffed, spinning around.
"See ya later, Blaze!" Luke called out as she stormed away. She turned around, deeply scowling at him.
"Shut up!" She shouted, a glowing trail of fire following after her and burning its way through the grass. Campers squealed at the sight, jumping out of the way.
Luke chuckled to himself, watching when Y/N sneered at a young Apollo boy. "She's so cute." He muttered to himself, shaking his head in amusement.
From the window, Chiron sighed at the familiar sight of Y/N's fire. "She's getting stronger." He said, frowning.
"So? At least her pink flames are harmless, unlike her blue ones. And don't get me started on that huge blowup she had last year. I didn't even know black flames existed until she blew up! More like exploded!" Mr D scoffed, shivering at the memory of Y/N's black flames. It was like a massive bomb went off.
Chiron was silent for a moment until he looked at Mr D. "She likes Luke." He quickly said.
Mr D instantly sat up, slamming his hand against the table in front of him. "Oh, yeah, definitely! I started shipping those two ever since they started bickering. Catch up, Chiron!"
TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife
#hermes pjo#zeus pjo#luke pjo#percy jackson fanfiction#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#hades greek mythology#greek mythology#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan#luke castellan pjo#camp half blood#pjo series#pjo fandom#rick riordan#pjo luke#hades fandom#romance#annabeth chase#grover pjo#grover underwood#pjo tv show
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…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.
hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.
tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.
Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind
also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.
There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.
The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.
Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.
You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.
But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.
You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.
And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.
After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.
You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.
The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.
To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.
And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.
You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.
-
out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.
It certainly wasn't you.
Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.
You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.
Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.
You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.
All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.
You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.
But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.
It drove you to madness.
If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.
From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.
You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.
There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.
They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.
"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"
It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.
He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.
"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."
You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.
You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.
Look at where it got you.
#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday#sunday x reader#sunday smut#yandere hsr#yandere x reader#hsr smut#hsr x reader#sorry if i butchered your ask its like. late rn. 💀
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Breathe
Part 7
Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.
Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.
A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!
Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!
Chapter Playlist
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.
It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.
You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.
Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?
The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.
You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.
You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.
Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.
You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.
Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.
You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.
It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.
Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.
You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.
“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.
“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.
“How’re you doing?”
You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”
Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”
You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.
“I mean- fuck.”
“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.
“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.
You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”
He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”
“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”
“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”
You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”
He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”
“The worry, the waiting…”
“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”
He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”
“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.
“Just don’t give up on him yet.”
You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.
The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.
Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.
That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.
How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.
You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.
Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.
He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.
“Are you checking up on me?”
“Uhh-”
“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”
Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.
“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”
He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.
“So, how are you, then?”
Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.
“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”
“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”
“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.
“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”
“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”
Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.
“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”
“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”
Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”
“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”
“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”
“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”
Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.
“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.
“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”
“Always.”
The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.
Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.
Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.
You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.
“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.
You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.
You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.
“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.
“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.
“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.
“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.
“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.
“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.
Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.
His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.
You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.
“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”
He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.
You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.
“Can I get you ladies another round?”
“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.
You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.
He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.
It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.
He’s not Will.
You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.
“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.
“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.
“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.
Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.
But he wasn’t Will.
“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.
“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”
You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.
A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.
Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.
You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.
The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.
Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.
“Need help?”
You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.
“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.
“You alright?”
You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.
“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.
“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.
You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.
“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”
It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.
“He does?”
Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.
“Yeah?”
You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.
“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”
“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.
You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”
Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.
You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.
“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”
“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.
Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”
You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”
You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.
It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.
“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.
Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.
Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.
The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.
Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.
He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.
You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.
Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.
So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.
Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.
You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.
It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.
How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.
You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.
Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.
Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.
“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.
“Hey, Ben. You running?”
“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.
“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.
“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.
“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”
“Fuck, seriously?”
“Yeah…”
“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”
Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.
“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.
Benny sighed, “You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”
“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”
“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”
Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”
Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.
He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.
He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.
One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.
Tomorrow.
You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.
He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.
Will was coming home.
As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.
You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.
It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.
You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.
The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.
There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.
He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.
He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.
It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.
After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.
The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.
Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.
You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.
You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.
He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.
“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.
He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.
He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.
Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.
He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.
Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.
It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.
His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.
You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”
Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.
“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.
You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.
Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.
His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.
Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.
His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.
You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.
Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.
Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.
The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.
You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.
Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.
You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.
“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”
His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.
He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.
His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.
You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.
Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.
Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.
Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.
Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.
Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.
Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.
Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.
His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.
Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.
After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.
A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.
---
Part 8
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I'd love to see Jacob with a single mama. I'd love it if he imprinted on her while she's playing with her little one on the beach. She could be Charlie's niece who he helped move to Forks to give her a fresh start with the little one. I'm thinkin the kiddo is about 1-2, old enough to walk/play in the sand but still young. I can see Jacob being the best papa ever and the pack just LOVING on the kid <3 Please and thank you! <3
Thank you so much for your patience with this one! Because I made you wait so long, I made it a long one <3. Loved writing such sweet lil fluffy stuff. Please enjoy :)
A/N: AU where Jacob and Bella aren’t toxic & weirdly obsessed with each other, and he has his own life and experiences outside of her! Period.
HOME
You sat on the sand with Lydia between your legs, her wispy, silky auburn hair blowing between your fingers with each soft gust of the salty breeze. You faced the ocean, La Push beach surrounding you in all of its striking glory.
Lydia babbled as she played with the sand, her back to you and her arms and legs quite literally covered in the granules. It would be her second birthday in two months, and you couldn’t understand where the time had gone. She grew so quickly, her chunky little arms and legs getting longer by the day, and you wished desperately that you could pause time.
Your ex boyfriend Noah, Lydia’s father, hadn’t wanted much to do with the raising of his child.
You looked down at the side of her sweet face, the buttery soft skin of her cheek glowing with the orange light of the afternoon. It was despicable that anyone could not want to love this tiny human, you thought, that anyone would even consider leaving her by choice. But that was exactly what Noah had done. His booze and his gambling was far too important to him to bother with the raising of a small child.
It made you angry; you felt a relentless and almost violently intense need to protect her. From everything ugly and awful and false in this world, even if that meant her own father. He had never treated you right, always gone for nights at a time doing who knows what with God knows who. The pregnancy had been an accident, but his reaction was not what you’d expected. He’d seemed to be on-board at first, but was never there for you during your difficult pregnancy. You thought back to how your muscles had ached as you were on all fours scrubbing the bathroom floor that one Saturday night, seven months pregnant and inconceivably exhausted. He had come home after being gone for two days, reeking of liquor and barely having time to slur out his angry question of what you were planning on making for dinner before he’d passed out on the living room couch.
You had been expecting Lydia’s birth to snap him back to reality, to throw things into perspective for him. But the man you had practically grown up with, together since 18, had missed her birth.
“Got caught up at work,” had been his excuse when he showed up at the hospital the next morning. Even the labor and delivery nurse had thrown him a glare.
When Lydia was 3 months old, you were forced to go part-time at the job you’d loved, the one that could actually lead somewhere. Without Noah’s help, childcare was next to impossible. Your neighbor, Jess, a stay at home mom of three, was kind enough to babysit Lydia with her own children for a few days out of the week, but you felt awful not being able to pay her much, if anything, most weeks.
After over a year of trying, of desperately hoping and yearning for the man you had once loved to be a father to your sweet girl, you’d finally thrown in the towel. Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being a dad, and in one of his more blacked-out stupors, had even remarked that if the two of you hadn’t gotten pregnant, things would’ve been easier. Better.
Noah had been gone 11 days, his longest absence yet.
You’d packed your minimal belongings, gathering Lydia’s too and putting them into her tiny suitcase with strawberries on it.
Your mom had passed when you were 16, and your dad was very much like Noah. Oh, how patterns repeat themselves. You didn’t have much of a support system to fall back on when shit hit the fan.
The one person you knew would answer if you called was your Mom’s brother, Charlie.
“(Y/N)?,” his gruff, tired voice had come through the phone that early Tuesday morning. You knew it was probably only 4am in Forks, where he was, but he’d still answered the phone.
“Uncle Charlie…,” you’d whimpered shakily, “I-….”
You didn’t even know where to begin. Uncle Charlie had always been so good to you, checking in and asking how Lydia was frequently. He’d been one of the few people you’d called to share the exciting news of your pregnancy with, and had been ecstatic, urging that you come visit him and your cousin Bella as soon as you could.
“What’s goin’ on? You okay?”, His voice had become suddenly alarmed, and you’d heard the shuffling in the background of him getting up and out of his bed.
Leaving with Lydia was something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but you didn’t think you could actually follow through with it. Saying it out loud felt impossible.
“I need your help,” you’d whispered, your voice low and on the verge of breaking.
That was two weeks ago now.
You sat on the soft sand with Lydia, her tiny fingers gripping your leg for support as she pulled herself up, and you thought back to the fear you’d felt that day. Charlie had immediately paid for a plane ticket for you and Lydia to fly up to Port Angeles. He didn’t waste a moment in inviting you to come stay with him. He’d been clearly enraged, barely hiding his distaste for Noah’s behaviors once you’d let the floodgates open and told him everything you’d been hiding for months.
“Jesus, (y/n). I thought you guys were doing good…I thought he was different, honey. I’m so sorry, kid,” Charlie had spoken into the phone after the words pouring from your mouth had finally come to a halt once you’d gotten him caught up on the current status of your relationship with your baby’s father. You hadn’t realized it, but you’d been hiding it from practically everyone. Your cousin Bella texted you often, and she knew some of the details of how absent Noah had become, but even she didn’t know the extent of it. You were a single mother, from the moment Lydia was conceived, you’d accepted that. Noah was never a dad to her.
“Mama! San!” Lydia’s tiny voice shrieked out as she grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in front of her, some of it spraying in the breeze and landing across your chest and arms. She tentatively waited for your reaction. Her eyes scanned your face, her pink cheeks pulled into an ecstatic smile. You laughed, shaking your head, and wiped the rough granules off of your skin as you nodded at her.
“Yes, sand!” You picked up a handful of it, holding it out to show her and letting it spill through your fingers. She shrieked again, excited by your intentional dropping of the sand, and jumped several times, her little legs barely able to lift her half an inch off the ground.
You’d been down at the beach in La Push almost every day now. You’d gotten settled in to the extra bedroom at the Swan’s house, and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden, so you went out with Lydia often. Charlie and Bella had insisted, several times, that they were grateful to have the two of you. That they didn’t feel burdened by your presence. A toddler definitely wasn’t the quietest or most polite house guest, but Lydia was truly the best thing you’d ever done, and you prided yourself that you’d managed to raise such a good tiny human all on your own.
She was kind, and gentle. She loved animals, she loved making new friends. She watched the world around her with curious and eager eyes, anxious to explore and see and feel. She laughed and laughed and laughed; she was the giggliest baby you’d ever seen.
Bella offered to watch her whenever you needed a break, and you hadn’t asked for one yet. She was practically begging to babysit Lydia at this point, which had surprised even her; she wasn’t much of a kid person.
You didn’t want a break. You were soaking up this time with your little one as much as you could. You felt free, for the first time in a long time.
The beach felt like home now, and Lydia seemed to think so too. Every time you walked with her down the dirt path toward the beach, she would screech and try her best to run towards the glistening ocean. You’d been at the beach now for an hour or two, and you reached into your bag to pull out more baby sunscreen for her.
“Lyd, come ‘ere babe.” You reached out, gently pulling her to you, and her eyes landed on the pink bottle of sunscreen. She knew the drill at this point, and gingerly leaned against you as you rubbed the cream across her tiny little shoulders and arms. She giggled and smiled as the cold sunscreen landed on her skin.
“Eeee!” She cried, slapping her small hands against your leg as she pulled her face away in protest to you trying to spread the sunscreen across her cheeks. She still stood in place though, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting as you rubbed it in.
“Thank you, baby. Such a good girl,” you cooed as you snapped the lid of the sunscreen closed and placed a kiss on the tip of her little nose. You continued to pepper her face with smooches until she was a screeching, giggling mess on the sand, her arms and legs flailing every which way. You tickled her, both of you laughing loud enough for the sound to travel over the noise of the rolling waves hitting the beach.
After the tickle attack came to an end, you grabbed some strawberries and blueberries from your bag, pulling open the Tupperware container and holding it out to Lydia. Her eyes lit up (strawberries are her all time fave) and she eagerly grabbed at the berries with both hands. After several minutes of snacking, her mouth and face was stained pink and red, and her fingers were sticky. The sand was still warm, although the breeze was starting to cool off a bit.
“Let’s walk, yeah Lyddi?,” you asked, getting up from your large towel and brushing the sand off of your legs. She bounced around beside the towel, falling a few times onto the soft sand as she lost her balance. You held your hand out and smiled down at her, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She reached out without hesitation, allowing you to envelope her tiny hand in yours, and let you lead her down towards the water.
You walked across the gentle waves, only going far enough so that the incoming swells flowed across your feet and ankles. With each wave hitting the shore, Lydia giggled and gripped your hand firmly, picking her feet up as quickly as she could to run from the water as it approached, only to run back towards it when it receded. You bent down, releasing her hand to skim the ocean water, wetting your fingers to clean the berry juice from her face.
As you were wiping your thumb across the soft skin of her chin, you saw her eyes flicker to something behind you, down the beach. Her gaze was intent and focused, and you glanced over your shoulder to see what managed to catch her constantly fleeting attention. A group of four tall men coming down the beach, kicking a soccer ball amongst their group. Their laughter was just reaching your ears now, and they were coming close enough that you were able to make out their faces.
They were quite large, and all but one of them were shirtless. The image rang a bell: they looked like they could be some of the Quileute boys you’d heard Bella mention were her close friends. You knew the beach was on the local Quileute reservation, but it’d been relatively empty in the days you and Lydia had been spending there, and you’d only seen random tourists walking along the beach occasionally. Bella had complained jokingly to you that these friends of hers were annoyingly always shirtless, impossibly large and tall, and that her boyfriend Edward wasn’t the biggest fan of them.
You smiled when one of them looked down the beach towards you and Lydia, and he seemed to return a polite smile at first, but his face melted into an odd expression when your eyes met. It was an indecipherable look. A look you didn’t understand.
He stopped walking, his body halting while his friends continued to move down the beach ahead of him. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was about to wave or come towards you, as if he recognized you like an old friend. The peculiar expression lingered for a moment before he pulled his eyes away quickly, and you saw his mouth moving as he seemed to speak swiftly to the men around him. His friends stopped walking as well, all turning to face him with bewildered expressions. The eye contact between you had been longer than a typical interaction with a stranger, but you felt oddly unalarmed. You were struck with an odd sensation that felt like you recognized him too.
He was the tallest of the group, his shoulders wide & strong. His frame was long and lean, and he happened to be the only one wearing a shirt, though it was a black cut off tank that didn’t cover much of his chiseled musculature underneath. You brushed the encounter off as random and probably explainable, trying to ignore the odd and unfamiliar sensation that prickled across your entire body like electricity.
You turned back to Lydia, but her curious eyes were still locked on the group behind you, wonder filling her face. A smile crept onto your lips as you watched her blink, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. She was beautiful. She was always so curious, so interested. Strangers made her nervous, like any two year old, though, which is why you were utterly bewildered when she broke away from your grasp and started toddling down the shore towards the group of men. You shot up from your lowered position, chasing after her.
“Lydia!” you called, your feet picking up pace.
It was amazing just how fast a two year old could be when they suddenly decided they had a destination in mind. You caught her under the armpit just as she almost fell across the wet sand in her run, and your knees hit the soft sand as you almost fell yourself. You panted, holding onto her and unable to stifle back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“What the heck! Lyd-,” you started, looking up from where you grasped her. She was frozen, staring up at something.
She’d managed to close the distance between the two of you and the men, quickly enough that the soccer ball they’d been passing around as they came down the beach was only feet away now. You followed her gaze, and saw two large hands come down to swiftly pick up the ball. Your eyes moved up more still, until they landed on the face of the man you’d just locked eyes with moments before.
His gentle brown eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his expression yet again incomprehensible. You still had a smile on your face, and his eyes flicked down to your grin, the corners of his own mouth lifting up slightly. He gestured toward you with the arm that held the soccer ball.
“You’re, uh, Bella’s cousin?” The sound of his voice was rough and deep. Your grin faltered to make way for the suprised expression that came across your face.
“Oh, uh, yeah! Um, you know Bella?” You asked, taking the brief moment to get back up onto your feet and readjust the flowy fabric of your sundress that had gotten ruffled up in the capturing of your tiny escapee. You still held Lydia’s hand, and she stayed unmoving by your side, watching the tall man with the same awed expression. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes maintained the same electric glow they’d had from the moment you’d looked at him.
“Bella’s one of my best friends, yeah. She’s told me a lot about you…and… uh Lydia, right?” He spoke gently, his eyes glancing down at the tiny human to your right. You looked down at her, too, and she smiled timidly up at the man, stepping slightly behind your leg shyly. You beamed back at him, nodding and running your fingers through the soft silky baby hair on the top of Lydia’s head.
“Yeah, this is Lydia,” you replied, ruffling her hair until a soft giggle fell from her lips.
“I’m Jacob Black,” he glanced beyond him briefly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “those are my buddies Quil, Embry, and Jared. You’re (Y/N)?”
You glanced briefly over to the other three men, though they were now immersed in their own mumbled conservation several yards away; one of them was watching you with interest and flashed a warm smile back at you.
You nodded, turning back to Jacob.
“That’s me,” you answered with a shrug and a smile. When you met his gaze again, his eyes were intense, almost pained, his pupils wide. That electric feeling ran through you again. The eye contact between the two of you lingered each and every time it occurred, as if it was an inconvenience to pull away from it for both of you. Jacob knelt down on one knee, tucking the soccer ball under his arm. His eyes only broke away from yours to glance down at Lydia, who was still watching him intently from her place next to your leg.
“Hi, Lydia, it’s nice to meet you,” he murmured gently, “I’m Jacob.”
There was a hesitation, and you were just about to encourage Lydia to say hello to Jacob, but to your surprise she broke away from you once more, ambling across the sand and reaching her arms out towards the soccer ball Jacob held under his arm. In her uncoordinated stumbling over the sand, she started to fall forwards. Before you could even begin to reach to catch her, one of Jacob’s large hands came out in a flash to support her, stopping her mid fall.
“Woah, buddy, careful there!” He exclaimed, a chuckle coming from his chest.
At the sound of his laughter, your baby beamed up at him, her expression suddenly delighted, and after a moment, a giggle erupted from her own little body.
Your eyes widened, shocked as you watched her laugh, Jacob’s large hand still holding her up off the sand. His eyes flickered to you as you broke into surprised laughter as well, and soon the three of you were a giggling mess. Lydia adored making adults laugh. It was the phase she was currently in: to laugh at everything anyone deemed amusing, and it was common that she would even fake laugh to get you to laugh, which would often result in a real fit of hysterics from the both of you
You were astonished that she’d warmed to a stranger so quickly, especially such a large man - a category of human that toddlers tend to decide is terrifying for no reason.
As the afternoon started to bleed into evening, you and Lydia got to know your new friends. Lydia was very opposed to moving away from them, interested in the soccer ball and jumping around in the sand. Jacob continued to stare intently at you every moment that his eyes weren’t required to be on something else, and you didn’t mind it. His energy was warm and gentle, and even his friends seemed to find his behavior entertaining, chuckling and whispering to eachother every time Jacob’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds too long. You couldn’t help but feel the heat rush to your face with his stares. You hadn’t really felt this noticed by someone, a man, in what felt like forever. And he was absolutely noticing you. He was doing more than notice you. He was ogling at you, drinking the sight of you in like fresh air for a suffocating man. His eyes turned gentle and soft whenever they fell upon Lydia, and he spent the time as the two of you spoke truly attending to her and her endless toddler games, showing earnest interest in the shells she had picked up and started to stack on one of his feet.
“Oooh, wow, now that one’s pretty. Definitely my favorite one yet.” He carefully examined the newest purple shell Lydia had found and handed to him for inspection. She smiled and clenched her fists in excitement, eagerly racing to find more shells in the sand to bring to him.
His eyes slowly found their way back to yours as you sat beside one another. You smiled softly, and he returned it, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling them gently.
There it was again, that electricity.
Six Months Later
It had been a whirlwind, these past six months. Meeting Jacob Black had changed life entirely for you and your daughter. After that night on the beach, you, Charlie and Bella had visited the Blacks’ home a few times, joining them for bonfires and pizza dinners whenever a hockey game was on tv. Bella seemed adamant that you visit Jacob often, even Charlie seemed surprised with how eagerly she encouraged you to join them and hang out with the Quileute boys. You’d met Jacob’s father, who seemed to welcome you into his family without hesitation within moments of meeting you. He had peered at you with an intensely inquisitive expression, something that reminded you of the odd gut feeling you hadn’t been able to shake…that your new acquaintances were far more interesting than they let on. There was just something about them, and it felt like a secret club you were looking in on, one that caused the hushed, private conversations that seemed to happen frequently in their presence. You’d spoken to Bella about your encounter with her friend right after that first night on the beach. As the rest of that week had passed, Bella had begun acting suspiciously around you. Within days of her odd avoidant behavior, she finally sat you down to tell you things that challenged your perception of the world, forever.
Vampires and werewolves.
Insanity, right?
Bella had explained her relationship with Edward, and you hadn’t believed it at first.
Like, at all. Who would?
In fact, you thought she’d been completely off her rocker, crazy.
That was, until she’d claimed that Jacob had something to do with it, too.
“You need to go talk to Jacob,” she’d urged, “only he can explain what you need to know.”
You’d been absolutely confused, unsure what Jacob Black had to do with anything, especially with this absurd tale of vampires.
“I’ll watch Lydia. Go,” she’d insisted, practically pushing you out the front door. You were insanely curious; you’d never had any reason to question Bella’s mental competence before, and with her frantic efforts to get you to talk to Jacob, you had to know what this was all about. You still of course doubted the absurd story, but wanted to get to the root of the craziness, naturally.
When you’d arrived at the Black’s house, it seemed Jacob was expecting you, and he’d grabbed your hand gently, pulling you towards his little makeshift garage in the back.
You’d spent hours with him that night. Jacob had tried, while his eyes watered and his voice shook nervously, to explain the wildly unbelievable, and yet somehow completely sensical and validating reality of his ancestral destiny.
“I know, (y/n). Please, believe me, I know this sounds crazy,” he’d said as he anxiously paced across the garage, his eyes flashing to your face for your reaction.
You’d shaken your head, trying to connect the dots in your mind. It matched up with the absurd story Bella had told you, only this time he was speaking of wolves, wolves with the instinctual duty to protect from the supposed vampires Bella become involved with deeply. Wolves that were not wolves, but men. Men that included Jacob and his friends.
“Come with me,” he’d finally insisted sternly as you’d silently refused to accept the words he spoke, staring at him dumbfoundedly.
He’d led you outside, to the dark treeline, and placed his hands up in front of him before you could protest.
“Listen, I know this is gonna be hard to see, (y/n). I didn’t wanna have to do this but I need you to understand. There’s so much more to this world than you think there is. Please,” he’d begged, pulling you into a tight hug, his eyes wildly urging yours to listen to him, his shaky voice reducing to a whisper against your hair, “I understand if you never, ever want to be a part of this. But you deserve to know.”
You’d shaken your head, bewildered.
“What are you talking about, Jake?”
He stood back and started to pull his pants down, and your eyes widened, your eyebrow cocking up in confusion. A smile flashed across his lips.
“Remember what I just told you. I’d never hurt you, okay?”
Your mind flickered to the story he’d just spent the last hour telling you, but your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to defy logic to consider the possibility that the man was truly actually about to turn into a wolf.
And yet, you stood there with your jaw slacked open and your eyes wide, your body frozen as he stepped back several feet, his body twitching and trembling and twisting oddly before…
A ripping sound rang out, a wildly violent sound that came from deep within his body. The sound echoed against the trees, before it fell hauntingly silent across the dark backyard. Within less than a moment, a massive red brown wolf was standing before you, his huge head only inches away from your face.
Your mind didn’t comprehend the sight, the reality too unreal and too intangible to wrap around and understand. Those same brown eyes you’d come to know and feel safe in stared back at you intently from the massive wolf’s face.
It was the last image you remembered before you’d fallen to the ground, slipping into a shock driven unconsciousness.
When you’d woken, you had been in Jacob’s bed, an ice pack being gently repeatedly pressed to your forehead and neck.
It had been a rude awakening, but one that had forced open your eyes to a world that quickly became home for you, lifting the veil of reality that you’d come know.
Jacob’s next explanation was that of the concept of imprinting. That night, after you’d settled and moved out of your state of shock, started speaking real words again, Jacob expressed why he felt it was necessary to expose you to his world. He’d explained the ancient way of imprinting, what it meant for him, what it meant for you. That first day on the beach, the way he’d look at you, that electricity. It all made sense now.
“It’s you, (y/n). Now that you’re here, I will follow you anywhere. Even if you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll always protect you and Lydia from afar. Always. I can’t imagine a world anymore without you, a life without you. The moment I saw you, I felt it. My heart was yours,” he’d murmured, his arms around you as he rubbed your back to calm your tremors that had come across your body as you tried desperately to adjust to your entirely new concept of existence.
That felt so long ago, now. You’d met the Cullens soon after you were welcomed into the world of the supernatural, joining Bella in her secretive lifestyle of hiding the direct truth from Charlie, only letting him in on what he absolutely needed to know. Charlie was over the moon that you and Jacob got together; he pissed Bella off with how openly he approved of your relationship with Jacob over hers with Edward. Jacob didn’t feel right having you live in a spare bedroom at the Swan house, and had practically demanded you move into a home on the reservation with him. He’d jokingly insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that the imprint had forced him to need you in his sight at all times. You didn’t resist, elated to finally feel welcome in a home with your Lydia. And it wasn’t hard - Jacob made that incredibly simple. He so openly loved Lydia nearly as much as he loved you. Sometimes, you wondered how deeply the imprinting had impacted him. He accepted it and took it on with respect. He never pressured you to be anything but there, in his life. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest or even really notice how slowly you were allowing him into your heart. The relationship you had with Jacob had begun as a deep and true friendship, but the imprint connection was impossible to ignore, and there was undeniable attraction you felt for him, even beyond his beautifully kind heart and spirit. You held hands constantly, even before you’d established any sort of romantic connection. The first night Jacob had kissed you, you’d expressed your hesitation at pulling him into your life. You’d gotten used to men not wanting much to do with a single mom, after Noah had made it clear that you and Lydia were essentially a burden in his life. You were scared, not only for your own heart, but for Lydia’s. You couldn’t bear to bring another man into her life only for him to reject her like her father had. But Jacob? He’d adamantly refused to let your anxieties overcome you. He loved you, he’d insisted. All of you. Lydia was part of you. So, he loved her. It was that simple to him. He was often just as anxious when Lydia was out of his sight as when you were.
You remember the first time Lydia had called Jake ‘Dada’, several months after you’d been exposed to this world of fantasy. Lydia had gotten so comfortable with him, more comfortable than she’d been with any person, besides you, before. She babbled with excitement every time she heard you or Charlie or Bella mention him, and begged to see him frequently. Once you’d moved into the small red house with Jacob, she’d jump and squeal every time his truck pulled into the driveway at the end of the day.
That day she first said the word, you’d nervously glanced at his face, searching for his response.
She’d been holding his hand, walking along the shore at La Push. It was winter by this point, but Lydia needed her regular beach walk, and was bundled in her tiny red puffer jacket and white hat. She’d stooped down to pick up a shell, gripping it in her small fist, and jerked her hand out to him, dropping the shell into his hand.
“Dada!” She’d squealed as she waited for his approval of the shell.
His eyes had lit up and an expression of utter shock, which had quickly shifted into ecstatic bliss, moved across his features. His eyes had flashed to yours, and he clearly struggled, with everything in him, to hold back a massive grin. He was unsure of your reaction. Your eyes had melted back at him, and you were completely unable to resist the smile that crossed your lips. His dark eyes had turned glossy, and he’d looked back down at Lydia’s impatiently waiting face as she’d stared up at him, grasping the shell and embracing her in a massive bear hug. She’d laughed and shrieked, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.
At Lydia’s 2nd birthday party, the whole pack had celebrated with you and Jacob at Billy’s house. The rest of the boys had happily taken on the role of proud uncles, practically fighting over who could hold her whenever you brought her over.
Life was peaceful, and you’d taken on a job at the La Push Farmer’s market. Childcare was a breeze now: on any given day while you were at work, either Sue & Charlie or Emily would eagerly babysit Lydia if Jacob was out on patrol or working his shift as a mechanic at the local bike shop. Lydia now had a family that was larger and more loving than you could have ever dreamed for her.
And you couldn’t ignore the fateful gift that you’d received too. Jacob Black was yours, and you were his. And you knew that, without a single doubt, he’d protect you and your daughter with relentless fervor for the rest of your lives.
You were safe. You were loved.
You were home.
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Metamorphosis (2/2)
A look into your demonic pregnancy leading up to you giving birth to your and Jungkook's son - and prior to being dragged to Hell. Part 1 | Alternative Universe Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist
Word Count: 8.494
Warning: mentions of blood, blood drinking/cannibalism, character death, animal death, blood drinking, kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex, pregnant sex,
NINE MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
“Pregnant?” your mother nods her head slowly. Her eyes move from your face to your stomach. There isn’t a bump, and if there was, it’d be far too small to notice from afar.
“Yeah.” you murmur.
Your mother wasn’t the judgment type - she, after all, didn’t live an ideal life. She dealt with the looks often when you were a child besides her wife (your mother before she passed) at church or other places.
However, it wasn’t her judgment that you were worried about - it was mainly your own. You wouldn’t tell your mother that you were pregnant by a demon and was now carrying his seed. You hated yourself and your unfortunate life events enough.
“One night stand?” your mother asks you. She now has a worried look on her face. “Unless you have a boyfriend…?”
You’re unsure what to tell her. Jungkook was not just a one-night stand - you see the man every night (unfortunately). But if you did tell her that Jungkook was your boyfriend to avoid feeling even more stupid, then she’d ask to meet him. And that’s not something you’re sure you wanted - you and Jungkook were not a family. He was a demon that forced you into this situation of carrying his demonic seed.
You swallow and your mother doesn’t press the issue any longer.
“You’re keeping it, I assume?”
You didn’t want to. “Yes.”
Your mother knits her brows. “You don’t look excited.” She wants to joke, but the tension is noticeable. “Don’t go through with this if you aren’t ready, Y/N.”
You want to scoff at her ignorance. She didn’t know that you’ve already tried to get rid of the demonic seed - and said seed had killed your doctor right before you. You’re unsure what it’ll do to you if you tried to kill it once more, even if it did need you to survive for now.
“But if you do, you know I’m always here for you.”
Your heart thumps out your chest.
You don’t want your mother to be a part of your pregnancy journey - not because you didn’t love her or want to share this moment. But because you didn’t want her to get attached to this demonic child. You didn’t want her to be hurt by it, either.
“I know.” you tell her, a sullen look upon your face.
A strained smile, appearing more like a grimace, is what your mother gives you in return. She doesn’t want to pry into your life any more than she needs to. You’re an adult and could make your own decisions. It was her responsibility to be there for you when you needed her to be.
“Are you hungry? I have some fruit in the fridge that I just cut.”
You nod your head. One thing you’ve noticed was your growing appetite. Pregnancy cravings wouldn’t be like this if you were pregnant with a human fetus. You always felt hungry or thirsty, appetite never truly satiated.
“I’m going to go get dinner started since that’s what you’ve come for.” your mother snickers. She lifts up from the kitchen table and makes her way towards the fridge. She grasps the large bowl of fruit. She grabs you a spoon and makes her way back towards you.
“Thank you.” you hum, stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go watch something.” you tell her before making your way out of the kitchen, bowl in hand.
You do exactly that. You begin to eat the fruit rapidly, humming with satisfaction. If you could look at yourself now, you’d be certain that you looked like a starving pathetic mess.
“Oh shit.” you hiss.
It’s been about 15 minutes and you just noticed that you ate all of the fruit. The spoon you once had has long been discarded and you ate with your hands, snatching the slippery fruit and shoving it in your mouth.
Licking your lips, your face burns with self pity and embarrassment. More so because you were still hungry, as sad as it sounded.
Your right hand touches the empty bowl and you shriek when the bowl suddenly disappears, but in its place is a plate of raw meat - a large bloody steak. You slam the plate down onto the coffee table with wide eyes.
You lift yourself from the couch and make your way down the hall to the bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you and fall to your knees to vomit right into the toilet. The amount would be alarming if you haven’t already grown accustomed to doing so daily.
“Our son is a part of you now.”
You feel a hand on the top of your back, gently rubbing circles. You would be startled if this wasn’t something Jungkook did often. He would creep into your life whenever you were alone - and sometimes you swore you could hear him in your thoughts even when he wasn’t there.
“You shouldn’t ignore his preferences.”
You spit into the toilet a final time then flush. “Raw meat is not a preference.” you hissed. “It sounds like he wants to kill me.”
Jungkook watches as you rinse your mouth out, leaning against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t going to die.”
“I’m human. Unlike you. Or this thing you put inside of me.”
Jungkook blinks, lips in a thin line. “Our son.”
You glance into the mirror to look at Jungkook. His crimson eyes are staring right at you and he isn’t amused.
“You feel sick because our son feels everything you do.” Jungkook takes a step closer.
“Hatred and self-pity?” you snort.
Once again, Jungkook isn’t amused.
“Nothing is going to kill you. Not raw meat, not our son or me.” Jungkook speaks. “You’re basically immortal until you give birth. Each day our son grows stronger and you would temporarily gain his powers.”
You feel like vomiting again at the thought of being able to conjure raw meat - all because the child prefers it.
“Turn around, my beautiful human.”
You exhale a breath and turn towards Jungkook. At your actions, he grins down at you. A hand places itself onto your cheek.
“Having powers is new to you. Humans are so weak.” Jungkook chuckles.
“I don’t want any powers.” you tell Jungkook. Maybe if you were a child wishing to fly or be invincible - but this was not that. You could feel yourself changing everyday and it frightened you. This was real - you were pregnant with a demon fetus by a demon who refused to leave you alone.
“You’ll have to adjust. For our son.” Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb and you hate the way your heart jolts at his actions. “How do you feel right now?”
You swallow.
Your stomach no longer churned and you didn’t have the urge to vomit. The fear, nausea and anxiety were slowly drifting away as if the weight of the world were no longer on your shoulders, even if you knew deep down that your situation was completely against your control.
“Hm.” Jungkook hums, tilting his head. He can read your thoughts, after all. “Like I know. You feel better because I’m here. Our son feels at ease when I’m around.”
Jungkook drops his hand from your face to your stomach. There was nothing for him to touch, no bump. Yet and still, he does.
You feel warm, a strange sensation flowing through you.
You inhale.
“Our son can never fully feel at ease with just you because he understands how you feel about him. The disgust, the anger. Hatred.” Jungkook is whispering now, as if trying to speak to just you and not the unborn fetus. “You’ll adjust, my beautiful human. All you have to do is give in. Stop thinking about just you and think about our son.”
You want to roll your eyes. Jungkook was guilt tripping you - and you were falling for it. He was right. Whenever Jungkook was with you, you never felt anything but comfort. You weren’t constantly in your own thoughts thinking about your situation. The fetus was demonic and therefore is more advanced than a human child at its stage.
‘He.’ Jungkook pipes in, entering your mind. His crimson eyes burning into your own. ‘Refer to our son as he, not an it.’
You sigh.
“You’re hungry.” Jungkook speaks and you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or the fetus. His hand gently rubs your stomach. “You can’t just eat what you usually do. Remember your body is changing. You’re feeding a demon.”
You grimace. The thought of eating raw meat disgusts you. Not only because it’s raw and bloody - but because the aroma entices you. It makes your mouth water and you want nothing more than to sink your teeth inside of it.
“You eat raw meat?” you question meekly.
Jungkook nods. “I eat everything.”
That statement alone frightens you.
“Don’t give me that look.” Jungkook chuckles low at your expression. “I can feed off of anything. You feed me all the time.”
You’re hot at his response and you want to push him away.
Jungkook only comes closer to you. “As a demon, I do not need to physically eat to be fed. You feed me with sex, yes. But you also feed me with your aura, emotions. I can go out and do the same with other humans. They won’t satiate me because they aren’t you, so I don’t.” Jungkook turns you around once more so you can face the mirror. He embraces you from behind, grasping your hand and placing it upon your stomach, his large hand on top yours.
“I cannot tell you what I do as a demon, because then you’ll be frightened of me.” And Jungkook has already gotten you used to his presence and he refuses to go back to you being disgusted with him (prior and after sex, never during). “But I feed off of human’s fear and negativity.”
There’s a sharp pain in your rib and you hiss slightly. Another thing you’d have to get used to. The fetus had strength like no other. The amount of times you woke in the middle of the night to it - he - kicking you was insane.
“If I feel like sinking my teeth into something. I can feed off of human food, yet it’ll never satiate me enough. Just like you, eating human food will never satisfy our son.” Jungkook rubs your stomach, his palm warm. The sharp pains stop and you ponder if it’s something Jungkook was doing.
“You’re going to be disgusted because you are not yet a demon.” The word yet doesn’t fly past your ears, but you allow Jungkook to continue. “But as our son grows, so will your appetite. You’ll crave more than raw meat.”
“What else do demons eat?” You’re afraid to ask, especially looking at Jungkook’s soft smile through the mirror's reflection.
“Blood. Both animal and human.”
Your throat tightens.
“Demons also consume humans raw or they can be cooked.”
Your mouth salivates and your eyes begin to water. You want to vomit at his words. The thought of the child being so hungry that you consume human meat and blood…
But then as you think about it, you’re even more frightened by how hungry you’re beginning to feel at the thought of it.
Jungkook places his chin on your shoulder and smirks. Slowly, you were going to come around. As a human, you were naturally weak and simple minded - but you’d change. You’d eventually come to trust him and love the child growing inside of you. You were a woman after all, and women tend to be nurturing and loving.
“You can even drink my blood.”
Your brow knit together at Jungkook’s words.
“Some demons also feed on other demons. That’s more of a power gaining way, however, it’s still possible. Since you are bound to me, it’ll be more of an intimate type of way.” Jungkook speaks. He holds your gaze in the mirror, not faltering.
“Is this another way for you to have my soul or something?” Drinking a demon's blood was not something you’ve ever heard of, but it had to be more than what Jungkook was letting on.
Jungkook chuckles. You were smart, he thinks. However, humans could never be as smart as a demon. “Your soul already belongs to me. As does your body, mind, heart and your womb.” But, you’d come to love and trust him a little quicker if he had his blood flowing through you.
You sigh in defeat.
“Would you like to try it?”
You swallow and shake your head.
Jungkook hums. “Afraid you’d like it?”
Yes. “No.” you quip. “I-I…I’m human.” you blink away to avoid his eyes. “It’s just too much to handle right now.”
“You cannot keep starving our son. How about you eat the steak first and get accustomed to animal blood. Then we’ll transition from there.”
EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I can’t stay.”
Your boss slowly turns to look at you. “Why not?”
“I told you I can no longer do any overtime.” you murmur.
You were slowly accepting the fact that you were pregnant by Jungkook and though he was a demon, you suppose it had perks to it.
One of the perks was conjuring, as Jungkook put it. Your son was growing rapidly as was his powers. You were able to conjure up whatever he desired, and also whatever you did. But sometimes it was something you could not control. You recall sitting at your desk thinking about how thirsty you were and had been shocked when in front of you sat a gallon of water. You sat embarrassed when you drunk the entirety of it in under five minutes.
Being pregnant also meant you were always hungry and tired, the demonic child completely draining you at times. You only felt energy when Jungkook was around and holding you. You’re positive he was using his own demonic powers to give you energy, but you never asked and he never confirmed anything.
With furrowed brows, your boss scoffs. “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”
You blink.
“You’re single and pregnant.” your boss continues and now you’re taken aback. “Don’t you think you need the money?”
You can feel your blood boiling. The office was getting empty by the minute, your co-workers all scattering off. You would stay late with your boss to do extra work at times, but it was never mandatory. You were always getting pushed over and were far too nice to tell your boss to fuck off.
“I…” you’re unsure what to say. “Who says I’m single?”
That’s seriously what you’re upset about, being assumed a single mother? But you couldn’t help it. You wore a ring for heaven's sake - sure it was given to you by a demon, but it was still a ring! You’re unsure if Jungkook meant what he said about the two of you being married - again, demon and human. You and he were nod wed at a church like you always imagined you’d be, but you were bound together.
Your boss snickers once more.
“Well I never see a man pick you up. Your lunches are often spent alone. I don’t judge, Y/N. Single mothers are all around the world.”
You shake your head at your boss's words.
“If anything, if you are dating someone, the guys an asshole for allowing you to work while pregnant anyways-”
Your boss suddenly screams. You flinch away from him with wide eyes as your boss is engulfed in flames. Literal flames. The pale blue and orange flames engulf him entirely, the smell of burning flesh meets your nostrils.
The fire alarm is loud, and soon you’re being wet due to the sprinkles above you. You're frozen and your eyes are wide with shock and fear. The loud screams echo in your ears and all you can do is watch as your boss lays onto the ground.
The scenery changes in an instant and you’re no longer in the office, but your bedroom. You swallow, shuddering.
“My beautiful human…”
Jungkook appears before you. He frowns at your appearance.
“You’re wet.” Jungkook hums. “And trembling. You’re probably wondering what’s wrong.”
You sob, utterly confused at what in the world that just transpired in a matter of seconds. Your knees buckle and when you feel as if you’re going to fall to your knees, Jungkook catches you.
“I told you that our son will get stronger as time goes on.” Jungkook speaks, tone soft. “You will gain his power and if it isn’t controlled, it will be unruly.”
You gasp.
Oh no.
“I-I did that?” you’re horrified.
Jungkook wants to coo at your innocence. “Of course you did. Our son played a big role. He doesn’t like when anyone bad-talks his parents.”
Jungkook's expression shows that of a proud father, but you’re more terrified than anything else.
“You also wanted to.” Jungkook continues. “You felt it in you, right? The way your blood boiled. The anger.”
You snap your eyes shut. You never wanted to hurt anyone before, but Jungkook was correct. The anger you felt at your bosses words - how you were assumed to be a single mother that just needed the money because of that reason. How sinister your boss spoke to you - as if you weren’t a human that deserved decency.
“It’s okay, my beautiful human.” Jungkook rubs your back to calm you. He can sense the rise in your heart beat. “You’ve done what you thought was right. Give in to it.”
You swallow. “I-I…I don’t think I can go back.”
“You don’t need to.” Jungkook assures. “What are you working for when everything can be provided for you by me?”
“I do have bills.” you retort.
Jungkook snorts. “Bills are something humans created out of boredom. That isn’t something you have to worry about.” Jungkook leans away to have a look at you. “How about you come live with me?”
You flinch away from him. “In Hell?” you appear as if Jungkook’s hands burned you by the way you smacked them away.
“Don’t be foolish, Y/N. I won’t be taking you to Hell.” Yet, Jungkook thinks. “Demons do have to hide in the human realm. I have a home where I often stay while on Earth.”
You blink.
You never thought about where Jungkook goes when he isn’t with you. You always assumed he went to Hell - how he got there you weren’t sure. Yet again, he came and went as he pleased whenever he wanted to.
“It’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you. You don’t have to work. Don’t want you burning the whole place down, do we?”
Jungkook’s attempts at a joke isn’t amusing. You have never been more terrified in your life, and knowing now that you were the reason for it sends shivers up your spine.
“I guess so.”
Jungkook smiles at you, a smile that meant more than you were looking into.
SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
“Isn’t it cute?” your mother beams as she holds up the small article of clothing.
You swallow, grasping it in your hands. It’s a baby’s onesie - one that’s soft at the touch and so small that it causes your heart to swell. It’s gray, your mother’s attempt to be gender neutral, and comes with a little hat.
“Have you gone to see what the gender is?” your mother asks you.
You blink up from the onesie and slowly nod your head.
You haven’t gone, of course. You had put all of your trust into Jungkook - a part of you screaming that it was a bad idea. However, you didn’t need your son (or you) killing anyone else.
Jungkook assured that the baby was safe and the happiest he’s ever felt. You moved in with Jungkook - shocked to see that he lived in a secluded estate deep in a forested area - and never truly had to worry about anything. You had an unlimited amount of food - even raw meat supplied by your son - and always rested for as long as you wanted; going as far as sleeping a full 24 hours.
“It’s a boy.” you murmur.
Your mother’s eyes widened and slowly, so did her smile. She suddenly wraps you in a tight embrace - a sudden one. You were frightened by the suddency of it. You didn’t want the baby to assume she was attempting to hurt you and have your mother fall to the same fate as the doctor and your boss.
“That’s so lovely.” your mother exclaims during her hug. When she releases you, you sigh in relief. “A boy is a blessing.”
You could only give a soft smile.
“Come. Let’s look for more clothing now that I know I’m having a grandson.”
Your mothers excitement is refreshing. You try not to think of the future when you give birth. If the baby had such strength and power while not being born, you can imagine what he would be like just as a newborn or a toddler. The thought often keeps you wondering, even if Jungkook assures you that everything would be alright.
Your mother was right about one thing. When she dragged you from her home while visiting her to a baby boutique, she said it would bring you joy to buy things for the baby. She recalls the times she did the same for you before you were born, both of your mothers joyfully picking out everything pink and girly - just for you to soon get tired of the bright colors; how ironic.
Your hand places itself onto the bump of your stomach - that has since grown in size. You’re positive that normal women weren’t this size at just three months, but you would have to remind yourself that your circumstances weren’t the same as anyone else's.
In your free hand is an all black pajama onesie. It’s basic, nothing truly special about it. There was no graphic or letter on it, however it caught your attention.
You feel a kick on your lower stomach, and you snort. “You like it, too?” you murmur to the child, the hand on your stomach gently rubbing. “You’ll look a lot like your father if you wore this. All black…”
Your body feels warm; euphoric. You shudder at the unfamiliar feeling. Your skin litters with goosebumps and your heart begins to jolt. Your mind blanks for a moment, and it’s as though you’re no longer in the boutique. You glance up from the onesie, completely still at the sight before you. It was an outer body experience, as if you’re watching yourself through a lens.
Humming, a low familiar tone you recall your own mothers humming to you. You see yourself, arms occupied with a baby as you rock said baby back and forth, humming the familiar tune to calm him down. The baby’s eyes are open and it’s then that you recognize the crimson eyes that are similar to Jungkook.
“Are you okay?”
When you blink, it’s as if the world comes back to normal. The soft music in the boutique continues, and you’re now looking at your mother.
What in the world just happened?
“Yeah.” you nod your head.
“Is that all you’re getting?”
You shake your head. “No. Just thinking…” you murmur.
Your mother doesn’t pry and you’re thankful for that.
‘Our son is communicating with you.’
Jungkook’s voice rings through your head. Your eyes glance around the boutique and you ponder where he could be at.
‘I’m not here, beautiful human. I still have access to you even if you are not with me.’
That explains things.
‘Our son has found a way to communicate with you. He’s telling you that he’s happy.’
You glance at your mother for a moment.
‘Didn’t you feel the euphoria run through you? Your mood has changed and now you’re glowing, my beautiful human. You see what happens when you accept the product of our bond?’
Everyday there’s something new with the child. You’ve already conjured whatever you desired, set someone on fire and a few times found yourself instant transferring yourself somewhere. Jungkook called the action ‘blinking’ and you could only do it a couple feet away, however you did it regardless. Now knowing that the fetus is communicating with you sends shivers up your spine.
Later on that night, you find yourself in the forest area. The sun has since set and you were alone. You’re unsure where Jungkook was, but you never dwelled on it. He always returned right before you went to bed.
In any other situation, you’d be frightened to walk alone at night - especially in such a secluded area. However, it was as if fear was slowly removing itself from your life. You recall Jungkook’s words from months prior. You were immortal now in a way. Whatever threat your son felt was eliminated and a deep part of you feels liberated about it.
Your head snaps when you hear a sound like leaves rustling. Your eyes squint, the only source of light is the moon above.
It appears to be the size of a dog, you note. You’ve never seen a fox up close before. Its fur is an auburn color and its eyes stare right at you, unmoving.Suddenly, its tail begins to move, the thick bushy swooping back and forth.
You take a step closer and, alerted, the fox begins to flee.
Your mind doesn’t register what you’re doing. Your feet already pick up and now you’re chasing the fast animal. Your speed astonishes you. You’re pregnant, appearing more far along into pregnancy then what you actually were. You don’t recall when you’ve ever run this fast in your life.
In a matter of seconds, your scenery changes and you’re in front of the fox, startling it. Your fingers dig into the thick fur of the fox and you fall to your knees. You aren’t aware of what you’re doing, not even when your teeth - now sharp and canine like - sink into the foxes neck.
You don’t register the screeching the fox does when you repeatedly sink your teeth into it, blood splatting onto your clothing, hands and face. The taste hits your mouth and you’re unable to stop the feast, the blood hitting your throat and satiating a thirst you weren’t aware you held.
Only when the animal was drained did you realize what you’ve done - and what you could possibly look like now. Your eyes widened and you began to shake. Suddenly, right beside the drained dead fox, did you vomit.
SIX MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
You cried and cried and cried that night you killed an animal with your bare hands. And now, a month later, you continue to cry as you’re covered in animal blood. You’re disgusted with how good it tastes and how willing you are to keep doing it.
“You’re going to have to stop crying eventually.” Jungkook dips the ring he has given you underneath the running water. “You’re feeding our son. You should never feel saddened about that.”
“I killed it with my bare hands!” you wail, hiccuping. Your stomach churns for even more blood - your son just wants to mock you, you’re sure.
Jungkook turns off the water and sighs. He places the ring to dry on a paper towel before turning to you.
“As you should. Our son needs to eat.” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to your weeping figure. “Come on, my beautiful human. Let’s go bathe.”
Bathing with Jungkook was something he insisted on doing every once in a while - he understands it calms you down, even when you won’t admit it.
The shower and the tub are separate and the water is warm upon entering. You feel self-conscious about your naked body at times, it was growing hard to see your own feet or anything below you as you walked. But you were making the most of your situation.
The water running down the drain is red, obviously due to the animal that you slaughtered and ate. You rub along your skin with the warm water and sigh when you feel yourself slowly start to calm down.
You feel a cold substance on your shoulders and you shudder. Then, there’s hands - Jungkook’s - rubbing along them. You sigh, melting into his touch. For a moment, it’s silent and neither of you say anything. The shower water slaps against the floor as Jungkook’s hands work along your neck.
“Our son is getting stronger.” Jungkook says. “His hunger will grow as he does. You can’t keep crying each time you kill an animal.”
Your head falls back against Jungkook’s chest and you sigh. “I know.” you say, but it didn’t make things any better. “I just feel bad afterwards.”
“You eat meat all the time.” Jungkook snorts.
“That I don’t have to kill!” you retort.
Jungkook is silent and you take it upon yourself to finish your shower, making sure to wash every inch of you until you’re satisfied. Once you were, you turned towards Jungkook to find that he also had been washing. His eyes are on you, and slowly, a smile forms onto his lips.
“Let’s bathe.” he says, rinsing himself off.
Jungkook doesn’t allow any retorts. With a flick of a hand, the shower turns off and the bath - around 10 feet away from the shower - turns on. You watch as he sits inside the bath, back against the cold tub. “Come.” he says.
You roll your eyes, but comply.
“Don’t face me.” Jungkook says. “I want us both to relax.”
Relaxing means your back against Jungkook’s chest while he lays a hand upon your bump. It’s like your son always knows when Jungkook’s near, you can see just how your stomach shifts wildly.
“Would it be better if I killed the animals for you?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His hands rub another part of your stomach to meet the baby’s kicks and it looks like a game between the two.
You shrug your shoulders. “Not really sure what the difference is. I’m still going to feel sad about it.”
“You humans are fragile.” Jungkook snorts. “The difference is you wouldn’t have to be so bloody at the end of it all.”
“I suppose you’re right.” you hum, but you didn’t want to talk about that anymore. The water is the perfect temperature and it relaxes your nerves throughout. Whatever game your child and Jungkook was playing seemed to die down, he was no longer kicking or punching.
“My beautiful human…”
You feel Jungkook’s lips on your neck, placing soft kisses. You’re already knowing what the man wants, especially when his hand dips down from your bump to between your legs.
“Should’ve known this was just an excuse to get between my legs.” you acknowledged.
You feel a tickle from Jungkook’s breath, a chuckle at your response. “The same legs that are widening for me to gain more access?”
Jungkook had a point, you think. There’s a hand gripping your breast while the other begins to play with your clit. You bite your lip at the feeling.
It’s crazy to think how domesticated you became. You no longer shied away from Jungkook when it came to sex - because it was inevitable. He was going to take you regardless if you denied him or not; the hot throbbing feeling between your legs growing needier by the second if you hadn’t.
Not only with sex, but you became happy to see Jungkook - as if he wasn’t a demon fated to ruin your human life. You wake up with Jungkook by your side, a hand on your stomach. You and he ate together - what human food you could tolerate - and you didn’t feel like being with him was a burden.
Your son was happiest when Jungkook was around, too. The kicks that would send shockwaves through your body only ever happened when the man was close - it was how you knew Jungkook was near before he made his presence known.
“I can never keep my hands from you, my beautiful human.” Jungkook steadies two fingers inside of you. “You’re glowing.”
You snicker, but it’s died down with a moan. Jungkook begins to pump inside of you, the splashing of the water evident with the pace he’s going.
“Our son is sucking all the life out of me.” you retort. You never looked like yourself. There were times you’d look in the mirror and swear you’d seen a ghost - and even the faintest crimson color in your eyes.
Jungkook freezes, his kissing on your neck coming to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” you question, ready to remove yourself from him when Jungkook brings you back.
“This is the first time you called him our son.” Jungkook says, a small smirk forming onto his lips against your skin. Slowly, you were adjusting to the changes Jungkook had forced upon you - like you should be.
“Not like you gave me a choice.” you murmur in defense. “I stopped calling him an it months ago.”
You have, but to hear you say our son like you have is different, but the demon doesn’t dwell on it, he had a job to do, and it was to make you cum.
TWO MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
The first time you’ve tried human blood had your taste buds going crazy - you swore you’ve never tasted anything as savory before. You never wanted anything else afterwards, and if you did, it had to be drenched in human blood.
The raw streak you ate had a blood bag of human blood, obtained by Jungkook who always satiated your thirst for blood.
There was a time in which you ate fries with a side of human blood because ketchup couldn’t satisfy you or your son.
Jungkook likes to watch you eat - enjoys feeling his son's demonic aura. You’ve grown in size, far larger than a human pregnancy. His son was large; small hand and foot prints pushing against your stomach to be released.
Jungkook likes to watch you eat because now you no longer cared about how you looked. Your appearance took a slight change - thanks to the child. Your eyes matched his own, the crimson color. Your face appeared more full, as did your breast - an action he wasn’t opposed to.
You now fully embraced that you were birthing a demon and you’d remain by his side for eternity - and now that you’ve accepted the fact, it made things easier.
“Damn it.” your mother curses, dropping the sharp knife she was holding. It clunks against the ground, droplets of blood falling besides it.
Your eyes zone in on your mother clenching her finger. This was the first time she was in your home - she insisted on cooking for you and Jungkook as this was the first time she’s been meeting him.
The iron smell of your mothers blood reaches your nostrils and there’s a low groan that releases from your lips.
‘No.’ you tell yourself. ‘Not her.’
You swallow. “Are you okay?”
Your mother snickers. “Yeah. Just cut myself. Let me get this cleaned up.”
Your mother turns on the faucet to clean the blood from her finger. You release a sigh, placing a hand upon your stomach. Your son is moving, obviously having sensed the human blood near.
‘I can’t eat her.’ you tell your son, stern with your choice. The fetus is upset, sending a few kicks against your spine, but you were adamant.
“Is everything alright?”
Jungkook blinks into the room on que, thankfully your mother had her back turned.
‘Why is our son trying to break your back?’ Jungkook asks you, his eyes on your face. But before you can answer, he eyes your mother and can smell the blood.
“Luckily for you,” Jungkook places a white cup with a lid and straw in your hand and gives you a wink. “I’ve brought refreshments.”
Your mother loves Jungkook - who knows demons can make break impressions. She had not suspected he was anything but human and you’ve noted that this was the first time you saw Jungkook had dark eyes instead of the crimson ones.
You’ve never seen Jungkook interact with anyone that wasn’t you and the act appeared…human like. He ate your mothers cooking, he complimented it. He laughed and joked with your mother and oftentimes would place a hand on your bump when your son was craving more than what your mother cooked.
“I think you two are good together.” your mother says at the door while she wraps you in a hug. “You look…happy. So alive.”
You laugh. “Do I?” you aren’t sure if you can call it thought. You were drinking human blood to satisfy the demon growing inside of you.
“Yes. You’re glowing.” your mother takes a look at you with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen this glow since…”
You know where she’s going, but she doesn't say it. She doesn’t wish to ruin a happy moment between the two of you.
Once your mother is gone, you’re left with Jungkook. He snaps his fingers and the dishes in the sink are gone.
“I can’t believe he was trying to break my back.” you sigh, placing a hand on your stomach. There’s no movement, probably means he was relaxed now after all the mayhem he was causing earlier.
“Yes.” Jungkook places a hand on the top of your bump. “It would’ve healed automatically. Still a stubborn one.”
Like father like son, you think, and all Jungkook can do is hum in agreement.
Sex with Jungkook became a habit - more now than ever. You never questioned him when he said he found you irresistible. You looked ready to explode and you never had any true stamina to help - but Jungkook never cared. He always insisted on eating you out until you’re squirming, suckling on your clit as if his demonic life depended on it.
Even now as you allow Jungkook to fuck into you while you were on top, Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo at your thoughts - and give you what you want.
‘You can bite me, my beautiful human. It won’t hurt.’
You flush hot when you hear Jungkook in your head - that meant he was listening in to what you were thinking. Yet, you shouldn’t be alarmed because he did it so often.
And all you were thinking about was biting him, your mind flooding with his words of months prior. How drinking his blood would be intimate for the both of you.
And now you didn’t care, no longer feeling the disgust as you did months ago. Your teeth gradually sink into the skin of Jungkook’s neck and you bite harshly until you feel the taste of irony on your tongue.
The act alone causes Jungkook to fuck into you harder, fingers bruising into your hips. He grunts a few swear words as your tongue licks upon the bleeding wound. If your former self could see you now - willingly sucking on Jungkook’s neck for any type of blood while he fucks you to his heart (did demons have hearts?) content.
Jungkook’s eyes marvel at you, blood - his blood - trailing down your chin. Your eyes resembled his own (side-effects of the pregnancy) and you appeared to be like a true demon.
‘My beautiful wife.’ Only slightly does your eyes widen from hearing Jungkook in your mind and you’re beginning to think you were hearing things - but you weren’t. This was the first time Jungkook had called you his wife - not beautiful human, but his wife.
Jungkook wraps you in an embrace to bring you closer to him, his lips on your chest. His own teeth sink into you, quivering with pleasure when your blood hits his tongue. His thrusts never stop, not until you’re cumming around him so beautifully and he does the same inside of you.
ONE MONTH BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL
“I’m trying.” Jimin grits his teeth at the younger demon. “You’ve been gone for months, Kook. They’re asking questions.”
“Then tell them something to make them stop asking questions.” Jungkook hisses back.
“They’re not going to stop asking questions.” Taehyung’s voice sounds from behind Jungkook. “There’s been rumors.”
“Rumors?” Jungkook furrows a brow and scoffs. “What rumors-”
“The infamous Jungkook has grown soft in the Human realm.” Jimin announced, a teasing tone in his voice. “You haven’t been back to the Underworld in so long they’re beginning to think you found someone here.”
“Have you?” Taehyung asks, blinking besides Jimin, to lean against the wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, Kook…it’s just a question.”
“I’ve been working.”
“On?” Jimin questions.
“Why is it any of your concern?”
“You’ve always told us.” Taehyung retorts. “It’s not like you to leave the Brotherhood without as much as a word.”
“I’m not leaving the Brotherhood.” Jungkook scoffs. “I have business to attend to here.”
“What’s that?” Jimin stands from his seat, eyes roaming around the room. “Do you feel that?”
Jungkook swallows, tongue in his cheek. His son always had the perfect timing to be awake and showcasing whatever power he had.
“Yeah.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “It’s faint but-”
Jimin blinks away and Jungkook already knows where he’s going. He does the same, leaving Taehyung stunned and in the kitchen.
Jungkook is in front of your sleeping figure before Jimin is, eyes glaring at the older demon.
“Well…” Jimin’s eyes are on you - more so your stomach. “Looks like the child wants out.” the tiny foot and hand prints are pushing against your stomach and not once did you stir, having grown used to it over the months.
“You…” Taehyung eyes you sleeping soundly upon the bed and then back to Jungkook. “...asshole-”
“She’s asleep.” Jungkook hisses, lowering the tone in his own voice. As his son grew, he was growing restless, wanting out of you. He rarely allows you to sleep and now that you were able to, Jungkook wasn’t going to allow his brothers to ruin it.
“Are we going to ignore the obvious child in her stomach?” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure with a moving stomach. “How is she not waking by that alone?”
“She’s grown used to it.” Jungkook glances behind himself at you. He only allows a slight grin before he turns back to his two brothers. “Are you done here?”
Jimin is the first to blink away, followed by Taehyung. Jungkook sighs then does the same, now inside the kitchen once more.
“When were you going to tell us you’re having a son?” Jimin is upset, now facing Jungkook.
“I’m so upset.” Taehyung shakes his head.
Jungkook tilts his head. “I have my reasons.” is all Jungkook says.
Jimin scoffs. “We have to be there when he’s born. It’s a tradition.” he says matter-of-factly. “This is your first son. A new member of the Brotherhood.”
Taehyung watches Jungkook’s reaction. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything. “Does she not know you’re a demon?” he asks, yet he isn’t sure it’s that. You had to have known that you were pregnant with a non-human child - the fetus was attempting to claw its way out of you as they speak.
“She does.”
Jimin waves his hand. “Then why are you keeping her from us?”
“I’m not.” Jungkook grits.
“He doesn’t know.” Taehyung states. “That’s why you’re still in the Human realm.”
Jimin furrows his brows, glancing between Jungkook and Taehyung.
Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek. He inhales deeply and then nods his head.
The Source did not know what he was doing or where he was at - and Jungkook was doing everything in his power to keep it that way. He only returns to the Underworld to report back to the Source monthly like all the demons do; especially the upper-level ones such as himself and the Brotherhood.
A hybrid child is not unknown to the Underworld, but rarely did the human parent survive - most times being killed. Hybrid children were often used to blend into the Human world, most times coming off as “more” humanly than that of a full demon who would have to mask their appearance.
However, Jungkook was not just a demon, but an upper-level one that worked closely to the Source. And though his brothers were accepting of you and his son, that didn’t mean the rest of the Brotherhood would.
“We have to tell the others before they come upon themselves.”
“No.” Jungkook is certain in his choice. “You’ve already called me weak.” Jungkook didn’t want to know what they’d attempt to do if they found you to be a problem with his demonic duties or his power.
“It’s not up for debate.” Taehyung began. “Like Jimin said, this is your first son and we’ll have to be there. It’s a tradition.”
Jungkook knew that it was inevitable - especially now that Jimin and Taehyung knew. He was anticipating that the baby would be born before the Brotherhood intervened - now his plans have changed.
“You love the human.” Jimin states. “Obviously, the Brotherhood isn’t going to like that.” he chuckles, but at Jungkook’s hard stare, he lifts his hands. “But don’t worry. You have us.”
“They aren’t going to allow you to keep the Human.” Taehyung speaks realism and not what Jungkook wants to hear to spare whatever feelings he holds for you. “Humans bring human feelings and we cannot risk you growing weak because of her.”
“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed at Taehyung and the tension in the room grows by the second.
“I’m saying you need to get rid of the Human.” Taehyung speaks, and it’s as if a pin drops; the silence that comes after Jungkook speaks. “Once the baby is born.”
Jungkook doesn’t react that he wants to - the Brotherhood never attacks their own. But there’s something in his body that holds everything back for him to not attack Taehyung and it’s an act that begins to frighten him - because his brothers were correct. Humans did bring human emotions and if just the thought of you being harmed has Jungkook feeling like this, then you already had a target on your back to prevent a shift in the Brotherhood.
“You can’t kill her. Nor can I.” Jungkook speaks, eyes hard on Taehyung. “We’re already bound together. Brotherhood rule.”
Jimin snickers at his two bickering brothers, both standing tall and refusing to back down. “He’s right, Tae.” Jimin speaks. “The Brotherhood cannot harm or kill a fellow brother’s bound partner.”
Taehyung scoffs with a shake of his head. “How far the Brotherhood has fallen.” he announces. “I’m beginning to think the rumors of you becoming weak are true.”
Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Jungkook and Jimin to look where he once stood.
“Taehyung will come around.” Jimin sighs. He’s tired of being the mediator between you and Taehyung’s bickering. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Jungkook swallows. “Do tell the Brotherhood to not return until my child is expected to be born.”
Jimin sighs but nods. Jungkook begins to step away and out of his kitchen. “And do tell anyone in the Underworld to test the rumors if they believe them to be true.
“I gave you my word, Y/N. That we'll be together.”
The Underworld isn’t what you’ve expected. Hell is always explained to be a fiery pit - nothing but flames enclosing around you.
This was far from it.
The Underworld was dark, only light there was lit by candles - thousands of them lit. It’s quieter than you expected, as well. You were once told that Hell was home to evil spirits and those who’d died, forever screaming at their ultimate demise.
Then again, Jungkook was a demon and you were never told that demons can look god-like.
Your ears pick up on soft coos, your attention fully on the baby in Jungkook’s arms. He was no longer a newborn, but appeared a few months older.
Your heart swells.
“It wasn’t easy to find your soul, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks, his access to your mind remaining. “But I made you a promise.”
“Can I hold him?” you question. If you asked Jungkook too many questions about the Underworld, what he did and why he did it, you’d be here for an eternity. Your only focus was on your son.
Jungkook watches the way you hold the baby close to you, your nose against his puffed up cheeks. There’s a few more coos from his son, his aura calm and content to have be in your presence once more.
“Jungkook….”
The man stands straighter at the sound of his name leave from your lips.
“...I’m not a human anymore, am I?”
Jungkook gently shakes his head. “No.”
You’re silent for a moment. “And I can’t return back…home?”
“No.” Jungkook murmurs.
You hold the baby closer to you, never wanting to let him go.
“What about my mother?” you dare to ask, but you’re unsure if you truly want the truth.
Jungkook licks his lips. “Time is different in the Human realm than it is in the Underworld.” he speaks. “I was leaving the decision to you.”
You glance up from the baby - who is now slowly falling asleep - to Jungkook. “What do you mean?”
“I know how much you cared for her.” Jungkook begins. For the months he’s been with you, your love for your mother remained strong and the pregnancy never ruined the routined you held with her. “To make things easier for her, I can have her memory of you erased.”
You stiffen. “E-Erased?” you question. “As if I was never there?”
Jungkook nods.
You’re unsure what you want Jungkook to do.
You didn’t want your mother to be so heavily involved in your pregnancy. You didn’t know if you’d survive birthing a demon and you didn’t want your mother to lose you and her wife.
Yet, she already has and that thought alone pains you enough.
“I don’t want her to forget us.” you murmur - and maybe it was selfish of you. Your mother would live through such pain alone - the pain of losing her only child and a grandchild she could never meet. “I want her to think we’ve died in childbirth. Can you do that?” It was harsh, you’d admit, but it was your own selfish desire to keep your mother as close as you could.
Jungkook nods.
“And…you can compel people, right? You have to compel her to accept the fact that I’m gone so she doesn’t try to look further into it.” you hold your son tighter, your voice cracking as you begin to speak.
“I understand.” Jungkook says. “My beautiful wife…” he trails off, coming closer to place a hand upon your cheek. His touch is warm just as you remembered it to be. He offers you a short smile then blinking out of your sight before you can speak.
Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)
@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae @bangtans-momma
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Ghost - Part 2
Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader
Part 1 here
smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)
“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others.
“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me.
“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified.
I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.”
After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much.
While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him.
A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side.
“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.”
“Hey, its good to be home.”
“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”
I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak.
I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading.
Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..
Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks.
I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive.
I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god.
That can’t be…
I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment.
“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.
“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.
I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around.
“Baby, please. Listen.”
“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip.
“Please, just let me explain.”
“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch.
My hands flew up. “Oh, great.”
“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”
“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing.
“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”
I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head.
He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me.
“Yes, actually.”
His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”
"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat.
"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.
"Wh-what?"
"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better."
I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin.
My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.
"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.
I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again."
He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.
2 weeks later...
I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.
The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.
Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window.
Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both.
A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.
I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"
Oh.. it's just..
"The hells going on with you and Negan?"
"What?"
"Ya heard me."
I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.
"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.
"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak.
"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"
Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."
Tears filled my eyes.
“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”
"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?"
"You should know. He only went to your house."
I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.
Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk.
Part 3 here
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