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jungkookstatts · 1 year ago

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All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last.

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat.

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it.

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch.

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further.

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.”

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again.

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words.

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again.

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted.

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame.

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island.

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly.

“About?” you raise your eyebrow.

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.”

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself.

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps.

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward.

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice.

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.”

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

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hsunrry · 3 months ago

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argument // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,1k

warnings: smut18+, praise, dirty talking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, angst

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

it was the first time you argued with him that bad you didn’t spoke to each other. for the whole week he was sleeping on the couch, when you were crying every night in the bed, because you hated it. on the other hand, he wasn’t sleeping well not because the couch was really, i mean really uncomfortable, but because he was thinking about it all the time. finally, after all this time he decided he had enough with this whole situation and when you were standing in the kitchen he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck on the side. you decided to not react at all. he sighed and buried his face into your neck, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. “babe…”

“wow, so my husband actually still have voice.” you said sarcastically. he lifted his head from your neck, placing his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“i know i’ve been a dick. i get it, you haven’t said a single word to me for a week, but i can’t keep sleeping on the couch anymore… i’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“you’re apologising just because your back hurts from sleeping there?” you scoffed. he shuts his eyes closed and groaned in annoyance.

“no, i’m apologising, because i was wrong and i feel bad. i was the one who started it, but i was wrong.” he straightened up. you only nodded quietly. he wrapped his arms around you tighter and he started kissing your neck to get your attention. “please, i miss you…”

“you hurt me, you know that?” you gripped counter slightly. his face was still against your neck.

“i didn’t really mean what i said, baby.” he mumbled against your skin. “i was being a jerk, i know. i shouldn’t have said those things to you. i’m so sorry.” you shook your head, holding back tears. he noticed that and felt his stomach sink. he hated fighting with you, especially when he was the one who started it in the first place. he gently turned you around, so you were facing him. he cupped your face with one of his hands, caressing it with his thumb. “don’t cry, i’m sorry, my love.”

“Harry, you can’t just do that.” you snapped. he furrowed his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by your reaction. he wasn’t really expecting you to react the way you did, but he also knew you were in your right to do so, considering how much he had messed up.

“do what?” he asked in low voice.

“just say ‘sorry’ after that.” you looked up at him. he let out a sigh, looking at the floor for few seconds.

“i know i can’t just say ‘sorry’ and expect you to forgive me instantly. that’s not how things work and i know it. especially when i was the one who was wrong. it was my mistake.” he paused for a second, looking back at you. “but i apologised, what else do you want me to do?! grovel for forgiveness?!”

“don’t yell at me!” your voice broke. his eyes widened at your broken voice, he felt like and idiot for snapping at you. “i just… i don’t know anymore.” he couldn’t stand it any longer. he took few steps closer, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands and crashing his lips on yours. after a week without it, you couldn’t help yourself and you melted into the kiss. he let out satisfied hum, deepening the kiss. his hands went down to squeeze your ass, sitting you on the kitchen counter. you gasped into the kiss at sensation of cold material. his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt, waiting few seconds for you to stop him if you don’t want to. when you weren’t protesting he took it off you as quickly as possible, leaving you only in panties. his boxers quickly disappeared as well, exposing his already hard dick. he pumped himself few times, still kissing your lips hungrily. after a week without each other, you both know it’s gonna be quick, but nothing to complain about it here at this point. he took off your panties, immediately pushing two fingers inside you. you moaned into the kiss, clenching at his digits.

“so wet for me, gonna squeeze me just right.” he gasped into your lips, pushing his fingers in and out to prepare you. he added third one, causing your loud moan. “taking my fingers so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside your sweet tight pussy.” he mumbled, going with his kisses to your jaw and neck. when he was satisfied, he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean. “taste so good for me, as always.” he slowly pushed his dick inside, groaning. “i’m gonna embarrass myself by how quick i’m gonna come.” he started moving in and out at fast pace, all the way to the hilt.

“oh fuck.” you moaned, feeling him picking up the pace. his hands were on your hips and his lips found yours again. his movements were hard and rough, the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Harry!”

“shh, i know baby, you can take it.” he panted against your lips. “good job, i’m so proud of you my love.” your legs were wrapped around his hips for better support. “fucking god, i missed you so much, i love you.”

“i missed you too.” you gasped, gripping his shoulders tighter. “i love you, so much.” your head snapped back and your inner walls started tightening around him. his hand immediately went between your bodies to trace tight circles on your clit, making you go almost feral. “gonna fucking come.” you moaned.

“i’m aware of that baby, come around my dick, wanna feel you squeeze me just like i love it.” he groaned, feeling on the edge as well. you came just few thrusts later, with his name on your lips. he fucked you through your orgasm, before finally stilling, buried deep inside you and filling you up. you both were panting, not really feeling like moving right now. his hand cupped your cheek, kissing you softly. “i love you and i’m sorry. really, my darling. i can’t imagine another night without you by my side.”

“me neither.” you said against his lips. “but it was the last time, understood?” he nodded, pressing another loving kiss on your lips.

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creepswrites · 4 months ago

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MASK OF HATE (CH 2) | Michael x Reader

so when i was writing this, my editor Insisted i use a grilled cheese gif for this chapter. you'll see why... i hope you enjoy though LMAO

MICHAEL MYERS x FTM!READER (he/him)

SUMMARY: When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago."

WARNING: graphic depiction of deaths, animal violence

PREV || NEXT

"Has anyone ever shown you kindness?" Your voice had Michael opening his eyes, blinking as he looked up at you slowly, your hands tangled in his wet, sudsy hair. He was sprawled out on the porcelain bathtub while you washed his hair, the room dim and sleepy and smelling of lavender soap. He had no qualms letting his legs and arms rest upon the rim to have extra room. You’d since become accustomed to him, no longer flushing at his nakedness, so washing the blood off his skin didn’t bother you.

You’d since bought black washcloths and a black towel for Michael so your father wouldn’t get suspicious about any bloodstains. Lounge clothes - some sweatpants and a t-shirt finally in his actual size - sat folded on the counter beside the sink, his navy blue jumpsuit in a pile on the cool, linoleum floor.

For the past few weeks, you two established a routine of sorts. Michael would get hurt or hungry and come visit you. Sometimes he'd watch you sleep but he'd usually be gone by morning. With your dad's presence in the house very touch and go, it was hard for Michael to stay for any extended period of time. Sometimes he watched you from a distance whenever you'd go in the garden but that was the extent of it.

You knew it wasn't normal for him to care about another person so you did your best to make it easy for him. No more lunging at armed police officers for you, you'd lamented to him in a joking manner. You hadn't been able to see his face but you got the impression he'd glared at you.

You'd also taken to touching him more, getting him to reassociate touch with compassion. It wasn't easy to undo years of trauma but you did little things here and there. Brushing his hands with your own, touching his arm when you wanted attention, small things. He was building a tolerance to it, you could tell. Washing his hair now was the most you'd touched him beyond patching him up after run-ins with the police.

But progress was progress.

Today, he hadn't come home bloody but he had come to you for something. He'd shown up at the backdoor, made a beeline for the bathroom, and you'd gotten the message. Bathing him had also become pretty regular, though you still recalled the first few times where it'd ended with him shaking from how overwhelmed he was by your touch.

Now, though, his gaze bore into you, staring up at you like a big lazy cat. Like a lion too content to strike. Your hands had stilled, still poised to scrub at his scalp. He needed a haircut, you noted to yourself.

"Besides me," you clarified as you resumed scrubbing in slow circles. "You don't… You're-" You huffed, trying to find the words. "I feel like people didn't care for you like you needed them to. If that makes sense."

Were you anyone else, you don't doubt he'd kill you for saying that. Instead, he just glared at you, pretty hazel eyes narrowed to slits. In anger or confusion, you couldn't tell.

That was yet another development. He'd been taking his mask off of his own accord now, even when he didn't have a reason to. The first time he'd done it had been because his hair was too long and sat uncomfortable in the mask, tickling against his ears and neck. You offered to cut it and, while it took some reassurance and thought on his part, you'd come home one day to him sitting on your bed. Scissors in one hand and mask in the other, clutching it like a child would to a security blanket. He hadn't been shaking or looking up at you with fearful eyes but his jaw had been clenched hard as he white knuckled the accursed mask. A wordless question you'd answered with nimble fingers and gentle tugging on his curls.

Having something so sharp close to his vulnerable neck hadn't been his idea of a good time regardless if it was his idea or not. He'd gotten up half a dozen times during the haircut to stand in the corner to come down from what was probably overstimulation. You were patient with him though.

You'd gotten better at reading him. He'd gotten better at leaving you clues.

In the present, he sat up and slid his legs back into the water. Wet hair slipped from between your fingers as he turned to properly stare at you. Michael was interesting to you still. You could tell he was curious about you too. He stared at you often, like when you watered your plants, washed his clothes, or made food in the kitchen. You felt his eyes on you constantly no matter what.

"What?" You asked with a small sigh, staring back at him with the same intensity.

Michael gave you a slow blink, similar to the ones Mayhem gave you as a show of trust. "Don't gimme that," you teased, smirking at him and motioning for him to sit back down. "I just- I always feel bad thinking about it, in retrospect. I mean, you grew up in an asylum alone. Didn't it-"

He interrupted you by sliding a wet hand around your throat, holding you still as though to physically stop your ramblings. Not squeezing, just holding. You got the message there: let it go. He lay back down and you resumed washing his hair, unbothered by that exchange.

Things like that were normal with him. It had freaked you out at first when he'd wrapped his hand harshly around your throat and pinned you in a doorway. But you'd slowly begun to understand him. He didn't have a way to communicate that wasn't through violence or knives.

Or hospital rooms under scrutiny, you reminded yourself with a grimace. You masked it behind a soft tune you hummed, resuming washing his hair.

Once he was cleaned and dressed, jumpsuit in the wash, you ventured back downstairs to make dinner and feed Mayhem. Michael trailed after you, hair dripping dark spots along his shoulders where it was still damp. He didn't like the hair dryer very much and only tolerated you using it to get his hair comfortably damp. No more.

“You’re probably due for another haircut by the way,” you said as you opened the fridge. Mayhem was immediately rubbing up on Michael’s leg, meowing insistently.

He looked down at her, standing comfortably in the doorway to the kitchen. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him and felt struck with the knowledge that, if it weren't for his injured eye breaking the illusion, it almost felt like you just had a boyfriend over. Your face warmed up at the thought and you snapped your head back around to stare into the white, chilled expanse of the fridge. "Umm… anything specific you want tonight?"

When you looked back over at him, you jumped in surprise when he was barely a few inches from you. Jesus, you thought to yourself. You didn't think you'd ever get used to how quiet he moved sometimes.

Michael tilted his head as he stared at the fridge with you. "I need to go shopping soon, huh?"

He didn't say anything but you could almost hear his nod.

You liked how expressive he'd gotten as the two of you began to trust each other. Little things like that made the whole thing feel domestic somehow.

"Well, hope you like grilled cheese." You snagged the almost-empty package of sliced cheese and dangled it tantalizingly. "I'll go shopping tomorrow, promise. If you want anything in particular, let me know." You said as you grabbed the bread from the cabinet. Before he could say - or, technically, not say - you spun on your heel. "Besides pumpkin pie."

He nodded once and you smirked.

Domestic, your brain said again in an almost mocking tone. You swallowed and tried to focus on the sandwiches and not the way Michael stared at you. You began buttering the bread as the pan warmed up and tried to not envision life being like this forever: painfully domestic and sweet with Haddonfield's best known serial killer in soft lounge clothes you'd bought him, curled up on the couch eating an early lunch together after you'd washed his hair.

The sound of the front door rattling open was out of place and terrifying. Never in your life had you felt as though the ground would swallow you as your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. You spun to face Michael and quickly assessed your options.

There were two doorways that led out of the kitchen - one that faced the living room and another that led into the hallway to the stairs. There was a dividing wall between the two doorways. Meaning if you could get Michael into the hallway, he'd be out of sight for at least the briefest few seconds it took your dad to walk towards you.

"Upstairs, now!" You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him towards the hallway. "Stay quiet, he'll go away soon."

Hopefully, you thought to yourself. Hopefully he will.

"You're home early." You called to him as you took your spot at the stove again, spreading butter on bread and placing them in the pan.

Your dad sounded exhausted, shrugging off his outer coat and tossing it atop the back of the couch before slumping in his chair. "I decided to come home early. It's been an exhausting week. But Myers seems to be taking a break from killing these past few days."

You couldn't help but frown. Not killing? Sure you'd noticed less blood on his clothes but surely he'd stopped altogether. So close to Halloween too…

"Cool, I was, uh, making lunch." You called out over the pan sizzling. "You want some?"

The telltale creaks of the wooden floor had your hair standing up on end. It wasn't like normal sneaking around when you had a boyfriend, this was Michael Myers you were hiding. Right under his nose. Even if your dad didn't immediately go for his gun when he saw him, you were still a liar. And an accomplice to his crimes.

"Grilled cheese, huh?" He smiled for the first time since he'd taken on the case. "Want some help? I can-" The sound of his phone ringing cut him off, making him grimace. "I'll take this outside," he sighed as he went back out the door. You sighed with relief and looked towards the doorway to the stairs.

Michael stood there, mask on, gripping a knife tight in his hand. You had no idea where he'd gotten it, since your knives were accounted for.

You tried to seem reassuring. "He's probably going to get called back into work, it's okay." Even though you'd gotten used to it, you still swallowed when you saw the glint of the knife in the dim lighting of the doorway. "He, um, he said you haven't been killing lately?"

Michael was eerily still. Just staring at you.

"Is everything…okay?" It felt a bit weird asking when he was going to kill someone again. Like it was just a casual hobby of his. "Just let me know, alright?"

He just stared at you. His walls were back up, you could tell, so you tried to not take it personally.

When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago." His gun was out, alarming you. "Have you… have you seen anything?"

"No." You swallowed around your lie, quickly turning the stove off, lunch forgotten. "No, it's been quiet. I was out in my garden, mostly."

He didn't seem convinced though. "She said he was circling around the house before coming inside."

At that, he froze. He held a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. You wanted to roll your eyes at how comical this was but you also couldn't afford to break character. Scared young child of the police detective, home alone with a killer in this house.

"Where's your cat?" He whispered, glancing up at the ceiling as though expecting to hear footsteps.

Glancing around, you tried to play up your alarm. "I don't know!" You whisper-yelled. "Do you think he's-?"

"Dead, then." Your dad's bluntness made you flinch. "Myers usually kills the pets first. Keeps 'em from sounding an alarm." He didn't even try to look sympathetic as he crept towards the stairs. You followed after him as he crept silently from room to room, pushing the door open slightly before scanning the room with his gun out. It made you anxious and you kept periodically glancing towards your bedroom, dreading the impending inspection. First the hall closet, then his bedroom, then the bathrooms, and finally: your bedroom.

You felt sweat drip down your temple as he pushed open the door. Everything felt tense, suffocating you as you chewed anxiously on the nail of your thumb.

He swung open the closet door and fired at the first sign of movement.

Mayhem yowled, a sharp, piercing sound, then darted past your legs as he took off down the hall. "MAYHEM!" You shrieked in horror, watching blood trail behind him faster than you could catch him. You ignored your dad's stammered apologies and took off after your cat.

The blood trail went down the stairs and out through the back door, which had been left cracked open to let Mayhem come and go as he pleased. Now he was gone. Your heart sank as you ran outside, crying for Mayhem to come back. In the tall, mud-riddled forest it was hard to see any kind of blood trail or spot your all black cat. Minutes ticked by with no response and you fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around yourself as you bawled.

He was your little kitty. And now he was gone.

"Sweetheart, I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know he was there." Your dad tried to explain as he watched you from the doorway. "It- It'll come back, I'm sure."

"You SHOT him!" You rounded on him almost instantly, storming up to meet him and relishing in the way he backed up in fear of your anger. "You SHOT him and now he might DIE out there!" While you didn't consider yourself an angry nor violent person, it felt vindicating to shove him and watch him stumble back. "You don't even CARE!"

"No, I don't!" He shouted, trying to scare you back. "It's just a cat! What if Myers had been there, huh?"

You felt hysteric. "I don't care about that! Fuck, dad, I care about my CAT!"

Suddenly, he'd grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you into the nearby wall, his voice hissing like a viper when he spoke. "I don't give a shit about your fucking cat. I am stressed enough as it is and I am focused on finding Michael fucking Myers, not your shitty little cat. Let. It. Go."

The sign of movement in the shadows behind him made you smile.

Michael grabbed your dad by the back of his shirt and yanked him back harshly, letting him fall to the kitchen floor. He stood there, knife tight in his fist as he stood over the whimpering man who scrambled for his gun.

You watched with an empty expression as Michael kicked the gun aside, skittering on the tiled floor and out of reach. "Grab it!" He hissed at you. Michael tilted his head down at him but he tried to not be intimidated. "Grab my gun, just-"

Reality began to settle in as shock wore off. Your ears were still ringing from the gunshots and you could smell the charred butter coming off the stove. "Michael." Your mouth moved but you didn't feel like your words were yours. "I'm okay."

A heavy boot thudded against your dad's chest and you watched him scramble to try and understand. The dark pits of the mask's eye holes bore into you, almost searching for permission.

"You've been hiding him." Your dad gasped in horror. "You've been hiding the man I've been hunting. Right. Under. My fucking nose!" He roared, struggling to get out from under Michael, only ending up grabbed like a scruffed kitten in his attempts to lunge at you. "How long!? How long has he been hiding here?!"

You didn't feel like answering. So you didn't.

He didn't like that though. "What have you two been doing? What, do you nurse him back to health under my fucking roof every night? Is that why you've been buying first aid shit?"

None of this felt real to you in any substantial way. It felt like a movie almost, a sick indie film about a serial killer you'd grown attached to finally snapping and slaughtering your family because you'd finally given him the chance to get close. You watched Michael press the tip of his knife to your dad's sternum and could almost see the anger and hatred rolling off the masked man in waves.

After all, you'd given him a hard line of not hurting Mayhem. And your dad just broke that rule.

You backed up against the fridge and slid to the floor, watching with a distant expression as Michael wrestled the man to the floor. "Yeah." You said quietly, more to yourself than to him. "I clean him. Bandage him. He protects me." A wet laugh left your throat at the absurdity of it all. "We're partners."

No point in hiding it anymore.

"M-maybe I should call Loomis, s-see if I can get you two joint rooms in the fucking asylum-!" The man below Michael yelled out, his words muffling as Michael jabbed the knife into him. Wet squelching sounds that became almost monotonous as hot red sprays erupted from the holes in his neck. Puddles of red seeped beneath the man's body and Michael seemed to relish in the thrill.

"You killed my cat," you mumbled bitterly to the corpse of the man you once called dad.

And you watched as the body ran cold with Michael's anger. He stood up, towering over you as he tracked bloody footprints as he approached you. "Hi." You said absently, giving him a small smile. "You'll have to kill our neighbor. No witnesses."

He tilted his head curiously and you just let your head fall between your knees. You didn't want to talk about this anymore than you had to. "Just- Just get rid of the body, okay? I'll clean up."

Had you looked up, you would have seen his nod.

The stench of bleach burned your nose and made your eyes water as you scrubbed at the now blood-free kitchen floor. You'd opened the windows to air out the smell but it still felt like it was suffocating. But there was no evidence anymore, thank god.

You didn't ask Michael what he'd done with the bodies. You'd kept your head down when he'd lifted it up and carried it with him out the back door and you were content not knowing. It would only serve to upset you.

Clutching the rim of the sink, you let out a long, pained sigh. Things were going to change now. Your father and Mayhem's blood was all gone, the knives would be disinfected, and Michael's jumpsuit would go through the wash again. No evidence any of this had even happened.

Logically, you knew this should upset you. It did, only in the sense that the wet plunging sounds of the knife echoed in your mind. But you couldn't feel anything beyond anger that he'd shot Mayhem. That he didn't care about you, only his work. It infuriated you to think about how little your life would change with him gone. The house was bought and paid for, you knew everything he owned would be left to you, and life would continue on.

He didn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. You repeated this mantra over and over to yourself as you heard the back door open.

Michael stood there, his hands and suit stained with blood. Flecks of dark red stained the white mask in harsh streaks that made you want to hurl. "How, um, how did it go?" You tried giving him a smile but fell short. He approached you and you did your best to hide your flinch when he took your wrist. Red stained your skin and you heard the sickening stabbing again. "Sorry," you mumbled, "I should have done something to- to try to make him leave, or-"

Michael cut you off with a harsh tug on your arm. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes behind the mask, your own wide in confusion. He just stared you down, only gripping you tighter when you tried to pull away.

His silent question felt loud in the little kitchen, even if he said nothing. "I'm… I'll be okay." But you weren't sure if you were telling that to him or yourself. "It was inevitable. I- I just didn't think it would be so soon. But, um, I knew I was… I knew I was going to be sticking with you. Partners, right?"

You didn't wait for any type of response, gesturing to his jumpsuit. "Lets, um, get you into clean clothes, yeah?"

Michael didn't budge.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he lifted his hand towards your face, dragging a bloody finger down your cheek and marveled at the way it stained your skin. A red to match his own,

And as quickly as he came, he left. His footfalls were heavy as he went up to the bathroom and left you floundering in the kitchen. You broke from your trance only when you heard the shower running. Swallowing, you followed his trail upstairs to collect his bloody clothes. You could only hope the blood was fresh enough to come out easy.

When you passed by Mayhem's food dish, you winced at the memory of your cat's blood streaked across the house. You filled his bowls and set them outside, hoping the prospect of dinner would entice him home.

It was the best you could do, really…

The cops came two days later. When no one on the force had seen or heard from him in a few days, they'd come by to check. It wasn't hard to play up your distress. The five stages of grief had hit you harder than expected. On the first day, you'd just yelled at Michael, slamming your fists into his chest as he watched you curiously. You'd wondered to yourself after sobbing over breakfast how he'd felt after his sister died. You'd only ever heard stories but you wanted to ask him.

"We found him off a backroad down the way with an older woman in the car," the officer interviewing you asked. "Do you have any idea what that was about?"

You swallowed and shook your head. "He, um, he mentioned he got a call from Gladys. That, uh, Myers was outside her house so- so he told me he was going to take her to a hotel and then go back to work." Your voice trembled as you spoke. "H-he'd been working so much, I-"

The officer gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry, kid."

Michael was easily named the killer so you weren't even considered a suspect. What they didn't know was that he was taking this opportunity while the police were busy to kill again, letting out his frustrations that had been building up.

He hadn't left you alone since your dad had died. Always hovering in doorways or your wrist if you were close enough. You knew Michael well enough at this point to know he didn't necessarily feel bad for what he did. But he was certainly capable of fearing your reaction. You could easily turn him in now, all wound up emotions like a ticking time bomb.

But you didn't. You were partners. A pact now sealed in your father's blood

Once the police left, you wanted to get out of the house. It all felt too suffocating. You just needed a moment without Michael's eyes on you, if such a thing existed. So you'd gotten dressed into proper clothes and went into town. You knew the whole town would be looking at you so you tried to keep yourself presentable while still looking a wreck.

Which wasn't hard, after everything that happened.

News reports of your dad's false crime scene would be all over the news in a day. All over the televisions, newspapers, and your dad's police buddies would be sharing stories in bars over drinks. You felt sick at the knowledge that he'd had a life outside you and your little bubble of fake domesticity with a serial killer.

It all felt like a huge reality check that left you stumbling like a drunk on the curbside.

You snapped back to your body as you stared emptily at some crummy greeting cards in the little general store. You'd been walking the aisles with no clear goal in mind and many of the other patrons simply let you pass with pitiful smiles that made your skin crawl. "I should've looked at the fridge…" You mumbled to no one.

"Hey." A soft voice interrupted your train of thought and you gave a glance over your shoulder. Laurie Strode, dressed in all black like she was attending a funeral. Maybe she was - a funeral for the town. You knew the paranoia of Michael stalking her never really went away and you felt a little bad for her. A part of you wished you could reassure her.

“Oh, um, hi.” You stuttered inelegantly. “What- um-“

“I’m sorry,” she gave you a sorrowful look. You were getting pretty sick of those. “I heard about your dad… Michael is ruthless.”

You swallowed around a lump building in your throat. “Y-yeah. I hope, um, you’re doing okay too.” You tried to give her a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure if it came out like a grimace.

Laurie just laughed, no joy behind her tight smile. “I’ll survive. Always do.”

You said your polite goodbyes and you left her, now even more uneasy. It was jarring to be reminded that life existed outside your little house in the forest, that Michael's actions had consequences that spread far beyond just you.

It made you wonder if Michael’s intentions were what you thought they were. He’d never leave Haddonfield. Not willingly. He’d continue killing with or without you in his life.

And that knowledge made you feel sick.

Your dad's funeral was mostly uneventful. A few of his work friends came to console you but you denied their company when you went to the cemetery. Your dad had told you many times when you were young that, when he died, he wanted to be poured into water used to help grow flowers on your late mothers grave. It had struck you as odd then but now you understood.

Guilt still ate at you. He'd probably haunt you if he didn't get to be reunited with your mom in some way, so you'd bought some daisies - her favorite, according to him - and brought them with his ashes and a bottle of water. Haddonfield's graveyard was nothing spectacular, just rows and rows of headstones. Some newer with fresh flowers and photos, some older and covered in moss and dirt. The forgotten ones always made your heart clench.

You pointedly kept your head down when you passed Judith Myers' grave. Her parents had a joint headstone beside her, a spot they'd reserved for themselves a year after she'd died. According to stories, they'd believed Michael deserved nothing but cremation. No tombstone, no funeral, just death in silence.

The fate of the Myers family had been a horrible story. Even after their son was shipped off to Smith's Grove, the family still received harsh criticisms for what they'd done. While Michael's actions were certainly the focus, some people still believed the parents had some sway in it or had influenced his behavior. He'd only been a little boy, after all. A possibly mentally ill, neglected child whose parents had, allegedly, favored Judith to the point Michael acted out.

A car crash killed them, according to the news. You weren't sure. The timings had been too close and their funerals had been closed caskets. But you'd been too young to really care about that sort of thing. Now, though, you were curious. It felt like you'd get answers somehow if you knew. Regardless, Michael was left without guardianship and became a ward of the state, locked away in a hospital for fifteen years. At first, the town didn't know what to think of him. The poor, unstable boy who now had no one waiting for him if he ever got out. Many villainized him, of course, but some wanted to see him make a full recovery. They saw a traumatized child who needed help.

It was only after Michael broke out of Smith’s Grove and killed again that public opinion on him changed.

You pushed those thoughts away and focused on kneeling before your mothers grave. Your fingers were still damp from the wet earth you'd pulled out as you'd dug a little hole for the flowers all on autopilot. The little flowers looked nice, spots of white and yellow against mucky browns and greens. This wasn't that different from gardening, you thought to yourself as you added the water into the jar of your father's ashes. Not that different at all.

It felt a bit weird. But it was his wish. After everything you'd done, the least you could do was honor that. Besides, you didn’t really think you could cope with having the jar of his ashes in the house you’d let him die in. So you poured the water over the flowers, dirt under your nails as you showered them graciously.

You'd never made a habit of talking to your mom's grave. Your dad did it a few times and you'd seen people doing it before but there was just no appeal to you. Talking to air felt weird and you weren't exactly going to start now. You'd never known your mom, she didn't need to hear your stories.

She’d died when you were young so it wasn't like you knew her. The concept of a mother meant more to you than who she specifically did. When you were growing up, sometimes you'd feel a longing absence that she wasn't there but the woman buried beneath your feet still meant nothing to you. A stranger whose photos lined the walls of your dad's bedroom - photos you would probably store in the attic. Like you'd never really known them. A part of your dad died with your mom anyways so the symbolism felt right.

He’d always go on and on about how much you looked like her, how similar you two were, that sort of crap. Now, staring at her headstone, you wondered what she’d think of you.

The feeling of eyes on you has become commonplace for you now. An is-ness rather than a concern. So you didn't even bother lifting your head. Just slumped forward, cross-legged, and picking at the dirt under your nails, flicking it at the daisies. "Do you ever miss them?" You asked aloud. You knew Michael was close enough to hear, especially since you were alone. "Your parents, I mean. I doubt you miss your sister too much. I mean, I heard what you did with her headstone when you killed those high schoolers." The bitterness in your tone was not missed but it didn't feel right to put words in his mouth.

"I'm still trying to decide how I feel." You sighed, poking at soft petals. "I never knew my mother so I can't miss her. She wasn't part of my life, only her ghost was. But I don't know how I feel about my dad dying. It always felt like I was competing with her for his affection. He loved her so much and could barely spare me a passing glance…" You swallowed and your throat clicked. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd have been happier if I had died and she'd lived.

If Michael Myers had to be the one to hear your confessions, at least you knew he wouldn't tell anyone.

You wiped your eyes and sniffled. "It's weird. I haven't decided if I hate him for that yet. If I hate him at all, even." When you looked up, Michael was staring down at you, face hidden behind the mask. You almost envied his ability to simply hide his feelings away. You'd never been able to avoid wearing your heart on your sleeve. "Do you ever think about if your parents wished it had been you instead of Judith?"

The silence felt suffocating and you broke into a helpless sob. The kind of crying that you did when no one was around and it felt like nothing was ever going to be okay again. Michael sat down beside you in the dirt, silent companionship through your tears.

He didn't say anything. But he didn't have to.

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher fanfiction #halloween 1978 #michael myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #mask of hate

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silly-l1ttle-guy · 10 months ago

Text

How the bucci gang sleep hcs

This has been in my drafts since January wtf

BRUNO BUCCIARATI + LEONE ABBACCHIO

all over the place

there is not a single time where these two have woken up in the same position they fell asleep in

like they'll fall asleep spooning, then they'll wake up with half of Bruno's limbs zipped off and Abbacchio sprawled across the bed in a position that looks uncomfortable with her foot in Bruno's face

one of Bruno's legs is probably on the floor and Abbacchio is most likely cuddling one of his arms

they're just used to it at this point

"Leone can you pass me my leg?" "m'kay"

Narancia came in to wake them up one time and screamed because Bruno zipped his head off in his sleep

Mista and Trish teased him about it for weeks

anyway i bet on my life that Bruno and Abba bring out their stands in their sleep

just randomly while they're sleeping Sticky Fingers and Moody Blues pop out

they just look at each other, then down at their users, then back to each other

they end up cuddling too (SENTIENT STANDS SUPREMACY)

it's so cute when Bruno and Abba wake up and see that their stand are cuddling

also Bruno's hair may look perfect 24/7 but in the morning it's SO. FUCKING. MESSY.

he has to immediately brush his hair so no one sees it like that

except Abbacchio

SPEAKING OF ABBACCHIO

when she wakes up her hair is also a mess

just slightly less messy

she has breakfast before she does anything else, then she immediately does her make-up

also don't be surprised if Bruno has Abbacchio's lipstick stains all over his body in the morning

it just means he sucked some girl dick last night

usually on those days Abbacchio wakes up with smudged make-up that she forgot to take off

also Abbacchio has frequent nightmares and often times wakes up in the middle of the night

she doesn't like telling anyone and calms herself down before going back to sleep

Bruno knows about it though

GIORNO GIOVANNA + PANNACOTTA FUGO

these guys are like the opposite of Bruno and Abba

they'll fall asleep cuddling and wake up in the exact same position

usually Fugo's the big spoon because he doesn't like being the little spoon

brings back bad memories y'know?

but anyway they sometimes also bring out their stands in their sleep

GER most of the time

it just likes to pop out to see what's happening

sometimes in the morning when Fugo wakes up, he'll roll over and see GER staring him dead in the eyes

he screams loud enough to wake everyone up

nara, mista and trish all tease him about it

"Did someone get scared~?" "SHUT UP NARANCIA! IT WAS JUST STARING ME DEAD IN THE EYES!" "Pussy lmao" "MISTA" "Nah the boys are right, you are kind of a pussy" "TRISH!"

sometimes purple haze comes out while Fugo's asleep

GER just pops out and hangs out with ph for a bit

anyway Fugo's hair is always a pain in the ass when he wakes up

as for Giorno... uh...

picture Dio's hair but longer

he looks like a younger version of shadow Dio too in the morning lmao

also Giorno bites shit in his sleep

and he's got some sharp canine teeth

the pros of being half-vampire

don't be surprised if when they wake up there's bite marks on Fugo's arms

or if Giorno's biting a pillow

if Giorno's had a stressful day he might move around in his sleep too

not much usually, but one time he ended up sleepwalking

Fugo woke up in the middle of the night and noticed that Giorno wasn't there

panic

he eventually found Giorno wandering around the garden and muttering to himself

it was really funny when Fugo snapped him out of it

then they went back to bed and Giorno bit Fugo's hand so hard it drew blood

true love at it's finest

sometimes Fugo has nightmares and Giorno has to wake him up

on more rare occasions Giorno has a nightmare and wakes up Fugo because he's trembling and shaking so much

GUIDO MISTA

snores

that's about it

he'll sleep in any position there is possible and he'll be comfy in all of them

he's also the deepest sleeper in the team

this guy moves around a lot too

he'll fall asleep in fetal position against the wall, then he'll wake up halfway across the room with his blanket tangled in his legs

sleepovers with him are a nightmare because not only does he snore, but this man also sleeptalks

one time Narancia and Trish were sleeping in his room and they woke up to him mumbling about how far his ass is

they recorded it in case they ever needed to blackmail him

but yeah this guy is a mess

He sleeps naked too

Balls out and everything

Unless Trish and Narancia are sleeping over

In thy case he leaves his pants on

Also on hot nights he SWEATS

This guy naturally runs warm, he gets hot during the night

NARANCIA GHIRGA

Eeperton

Bro sleeps like a baby

Nara just kinda sleeps wherever

He hardly even uses his own room unless someone carries him there

Honk mmimimimi honk mimimimimi

Also they sleep with their blanket wrapped around them like a cocoon

My guy is snug as a bug in a rug fr

This mf does not make ANY noise in their sleep

Completely silent

The amount of times people have thought they were dead because of this is quite a hefty amount

Sleeby

The missile is very sleepy

If they sleep next to someone they cling on for dear life

Also they're a blanket hog

They do not move at all either

TRISH UNA

She sleeps in a princess bed

Also a quiet sleeper

But she does move, unlike Narancia

Goes to sleep like she's in a casket at her funeral and wakes up face down on the opposite side of the bed

If she forgets to take her makeup off before bed she screams and tells Giorno to buy her self-care products

Live laugh love Trish

Sometimes she sleeps with Sheila E (I wish lesbians were real💔💔)

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sister-lucifer · 10 months ago

Text

READ PART ONE HERE

READ PART TWO HERE

Genre: Comfort, fluff, slight angst but nothing heavy, not explicitly romantic

Summary: The thunder rouses you from a nightmare-filled sleep, and in your distress you run to Tim for comfort

Content/Warnings: None really, reader has nightmares due to unspecified trauma but nothing is explicitly written, Tim is a little emotionally constipated but does his best, no explicit romance.

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

You nearly jump out of your skin when the screaming thunder rips you from your fitful sleep. You sit up so fast you almost fall out of bed, your jaw hanging open like you’re trying to cry out despite no sound leaving your throat. Your chest is heaving so fast you start to choke on your breath. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, and even longer still for you to remember where you are.

Do you recognize this place?

Home?

This isn’t home.

No. Not quite.

A home, yes, but not your home.

The TV is still on.

The wallpaper is still peeling.

The shag rug is still discolored.

You know where you are.

You look around for a second, taking in your surroundings and making sure your assessment was correct. It’s like a flood of memories coming back to you in an instant, and for a second it’s almost calming. That is, until you get to the part that made you so afraid in the first place.

The nightmares have been pervasive for weeks now. You’re not sure why. It’s some sort of episode you think, one of these days it’ll stop, but it’s been wearing on you. You’ve hidden it from Tim as best you can. You don’t want him to worry, that’ll only make you feel worse, and usually it’s easy enough to shake the thoughts from your mind.

Usually.

But this time it’s lingering, an unwanted guest meandering in the doorway for an uncomfortable amount of time, like dirty smoke permeating everything around it and yellowing the walls with its horrible malodor.

God, it’s everywhere.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face in them. It’s a feeble attempt to calm yourself, to stop the images of your nightmare from flashing in your mind over and over again, but it does little to help.

The thunder cries out again and you yelp in surprise, the harsh noise cutting through the static buzzing taking over your mind. It irritates the pounding headache you can feel coming on. You’re exhausted, only being kept awake by the obscene amounts of adrenaline being pumped through your veins.

God, it won’t go away.

There are just some thoughts that can’t be forced out no matter how hard you try. They can’t be pushed away or covered up or cut out of you. You can only wait until they dissolve on their own, but right now they feel like a cement block weighing you down from the inside.

The headache is coming on faster than you thought, and you wince under the pressure of pins and needles in the back of your head.

God, it hurts.

You can’t stay here.

You can’t stay in this room.

It’s like the walls are closing in on you, the darkness barely shrouding their approach.

It’s not safe here.

You need Tim.

He’ll know what to do.

You jump from your bed and tumble to the floor, not even taking a moment to acknowledge the pain as you thrash your way out of the covers tangled around your ankles. You barely manage to stumble to your feet, slamming into the doorway as you flee the room. It stings, but you don’t care.

You’ve forgotten all pleasantries or manners as you burst into Tim’s room, slamming the door open so fast the knob rattles from the impact. Tim jolts awake with a grunt of surprise, and for a moment his hand jumps to grab the revolver he keeps in the dresser drawer. He only fumbles with the handle for a moment before he blinks a few times and pauses. He squints at you, tilts his head, then sighs in both relief and annoyance.

He collapses back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes.

“God…dammit, kid!” He groans, and you feel a pang of guilt that’s quickly washed away by the flood of tears stinging your eyes and burning your throat.

You rush to his bedside, collapsing against the mattress and gasping for air as you try to collect yourself. You try to breath in, but the air is forced back out of your lung before you can take a meaningful breath. You choke out a pitiful cry of Tim’s name, but with the old TV being the only light in the room and his vision still blurry with sleep he can’t see the distress that’s evident on your face.

He turns over onto his side, brows furrowed in annoyance and a hint of a scowl on his lips.

“What do you need, kid?”

You don’t get to answer before the thunder comes down again, making you flinch and forcing a surprised noise from your mouth. Tim turns and looks out the window, sighing and rolling his eyes.

“Is it the thunder, huh? You scared, kid?”

“Yes,” You finally choke out.

He pauses, his expression instantly shifting to one of concern. He scrambles to sit up, making room for you on the bed.

“Okay, okay,” He says softly, “Come on, get up here, I got you.”

You claw at the sheets as you climb up into bed with him, your hands immediately finding his body and grabbing onto his shirt. You pull yourself into him so desperately he almost falls over, barely managing to catch himself just in time to keep you both from going down.

He’s almost as frantic as you are, large hands fumbling with you as he clumsily pulls you onto his lap and into his chest. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, your fingers clutching the back of his shirt so hard your knuckles are getting sore. It hurts, but you can’t let go. You hiccup and your breath stutters as you fight for air.

“Hey, hey,” He whispers, trying to keep you still against him without crushing you, “Are you hurt or anything?”

“No,” You answer, not relaxing your grip for a second. You feel Tim nod.

“Okay, okay. What’s wrong, kid, what’s got you all worked up?” He asks. Hopefully you can’t hear that little shake in his voice.

“N-Nightmare,” is the only reply you can stutter out, but it says enough. It strikes a nerve somewhere deep inside of Tim’s being, and it hurts like hell. He knows what it’s like to wake up screaming, terrified and alone.

You’re not alone, though. Not this time. He won’t let you suffer like that.

…But god, he is so bad at this.

He loves you with everything he’s got, but he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s come right out and said it. It’s embarrassing for him, that’s all, the words taste contrived and sticky in his mouth and it’s just unbearable. It’s not something he can make himself do.

What else can he possibly say?

He ponders that question as he keeps you against him, almost afraid to let you go. He can feel your hot tears soaking through his thin night shirt now. He doesn’t know how to stop them. He’s always suffered alone, he doesn’t even have a frame of reference here.

Think, dammit, think, Tim.

He won’t tell you everything is okay. It’s not, it never will be, and he’s not going to lie to you.

He won’t tell you to stop crying. It’d be a horrible thing to ask of you, full stop. Christ, at this point, you deserve a good cry.

He won’t stay quiet. It’s completely out of the question, he has to say something, and it has to be the truth.

He has to tell you the truth.

“…You’re safe with me, kid,” He sputters, trying to get the words out as fast as possible, “You’re safe, I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you. Not ever.”

You go quiet for just a moment, like you’re surprised to hear that. Then you hiccup and suck in a harsh breath, and the sobs roll in once more. He sighs and starts to rub your back in smooth circles.

“Whatever’s scarin’ you, kid,” He mutters in your ear, “I won’t let it get you. Nothing‘s gonna get to you while I’m here. You can sit here in my lap all night if you want, I ain’t lettin’ you go nowhere ‘til you feel safe.”

As he talks, you slowly start to calm down. It’s gradual, but when he stops talking your hiccups and sobs have gotten just a bit quieter. Your grip on his shirt has loosened a little, too.

You believe him.

God, you really do believe him.

And for some reason, that’s the most amazing thought that’s ever crossed his mind. You really do trust him to keep you safe.

He plans to keep it that way.

He adjusts you in his hold just a bit, moving to lean back against his pillows. He tightens his grip a bit just to keep you from moving. He doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to get away from you, he just wants you both to be comfortable.

Both of his hands rest on your back, slowly sliding up and down as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Your body shivers against him, the heaving in your chest starting to level out bit by bit as you catch your breath. He can feel your lungs expand and contract with each breath.

He reaches up to scratch the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around you. He listens intently as your voice quiets until you’re silent, and then the only thing he can hear is your steady breathing.

He just sits there for a minute when he realizes he’s actually managed to calm you. He’s almost impressed with himself. In any other universe, that was probably a disaster.

His hands still and move to rest on your back once more. He doesn’t feel the need to keep you held so tight now. You’re not going anywhere.

Are you even awake?

He turns his head to look at you, and you stir a bit in response. He quickly turns his head back so as not to wake you if you are asleep. He’s not going to get up until you are.

He sighs softly to himself, his eyes turning back to the TV and whatever trashy sitcom he fell asleep too a few hours ago. He doesn’t really care. He won’t be up for much longer. Now that the adrenaline has worn off the exhaustion is quickly taking over, not to mention the warmth and comfortable pressure of you laying on top of him is more relaxing than he’d like to admit.

He’s only just allowed his eyes to flutter shut when he feels you stir, and suddenly they fly open again. He stays still, but alert. You’re not having another nightmare, are you? Shit…

He tenses as he listens to you, watching your movements carefully. You don’t seem upset, at least not yet, but that can change in an instant.

He’s ready to hold onto you if you freak out. He’s thinking about where he last left the first aid kit, just in case. He’s wondering what he’ll have to say this time if he can’t bring you down again.

But then you go still.

And you’re quiet.

And you’re breathing steadily.

And everything’s okay again.

Then Tim flinches as an unexpected mumble of his name falls from your lips, and he turns to look at you in surprise and slight concern.

“Yeah, kid? What is it?”

He gets no response.

Your eyes are closed. You’re asleep.

Thank God.

He huffs at his own anxiousness before laying his head back again. He pats your back softly, and his eyelids are starting to feel heavy again.

“You know what?” He whispers as he reaches to pull a blanket over both of you, “I’ll ask you in the morning. Sweet dreams, kid.”

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devirnis · 1 year ago

Note

if you’re still taking prompts, can i ask for a combined 13 and 22? 👀

@bvckandeddie of course you can ask for combos! I hope this is to your liking 💜

(full disclosure, I wrote this in my notes app while hopped up on painkillers and cold medication and also on vacation ✌️)

Chim calls dibs on the couch the second Buck’s front door closes behind the three of them.

Buck glances at Eddie on his other side, wondering if he’ll put up a fight for the couch (and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care if he does), but Eddie just nods tiredly and trudges in the direction of the stairs up to Buck’s bedroom. Buck can’t really blame him; today was the shift from hell, on top of a long week of shifts, and culminating in the call to limit potential exposure to their families by staying with each other. Given that he lived alone, Buck’s loft was the logical choice for Chim and Eddie to use, while Hen had elected to stay in the guest room at Bobby and Athena’s while the kids moved to Michael’s place.

None of them are very jazzed about the whole situation. One, because it’s a global pandemic and work has been crazy and everything is just a little scary right now, and two, Buck knows Eddie would much rather be with Christopher, and Chim with Maddie.

Buck lingers on the main level just long enough to help Chim dig out some blankets for the couch — he really needs to get an air mattress if this goes on longer than the two weeks that everyone is promising — before hurrying up the stairs after Eddie. He finds his best friend at the top of the stairs, staring a little blankly at Buck’s bed.

Oh. Right.

While Buck is totally cool with sharing the bed — it’s a king, after all — he has no idea how Eddie’s feeling about the prospect. The last person Eddie shared a bed with was probably Shannon, and Buck needs to not think too hard about that if he wants to keep his head on straight (pun definitely intended.)

“I can take the floor?” Eddie asks, glancing over at Buck.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I don’t have an air mattress. Besides, it’s fine, it’s plenty big enough for both of us.”

A strange sort of expression flickers over Eddie’s face, but it’s gone before Buck can identify it. When he turns back to the bed, Buck swears the back of Eddie’s neck is a little flushed.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says haltingly.

“I don’t have a problem with sharing with you,” Buck says, and then frowns, his stomach dropping a little. “Unless — I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable —“

“No, no!” Eddie scrambles. “No, I didn’t mean — I’m not —“ He sighs. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Oh, uh.” Buck’s stomach twists for some stupid reason. It’s been a while since he shared with anyone — Ali was out of town a lot during their brief relationship, and he and Abby hadn’t been physical long enough to pick sides. “The middle. Pick whichever you want.”

Eddie wanders over to dump his duffel bag on the right side of the bed, closest to the stairs. “If you have a dent in your mattress that I keep rolling into…”

“I haven’t had it that long!” Buck protests.

Eddie smirks at him, but there’s something else there besides the playfulness that Buck is familiar with.

Before he can decipher it, Chim’s calling from downstairs about Buck’s terrible throw pillows and the moment is broken.

Eddie shoots Buck a sympathetic look as Buck sighs gustily. “Maddie wouldn’t appreciate it if I killed the father of her unborn child on the first day, right?”

———

Buck thought that he’d have trouble falling asleep given the general existential dread hanging over him and the fact that he’s sharing his home with two other people, but he actually doesn’t remember much after he crawled under the covers beside Eddie.

He’s so comfortable. He loves his mattress and sheets and pillows, but somehow he’s never had a sleep as good as this before. He’s warm and cozy, with a comforting weight along his left side, grounding him, making him feel held.

Actually —

He is being held.

There’s an arm slung across his waist, a head on his shoulder, soft hairs tickling the underside of his jaw. He breathes in, the cobwebs of sleep slowly dissolving in his brain, and he smells —

Eddie.

Eddie is on top of him, clinging to him like a koala bear, snoring softly into Buck’s collarbone.

Buck’s traitorous heart soars in his chest.

He shouldn’t be happy about this. The only reason Eddie is here is because of a pandemic — not because he wants to be. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s Buck that he’s holding; muscle memory from Shannon is the only reason that Eddie is plastered to him like this.

Buck shifts slightly, hoping he can disentangle himself without waking Eddie, but then Eddie’s arm around him tightens at the same time as he groans.

“Time’s it?” Eddie mumbles.

The hot breath against Buck’s skin makes him shiver. He twists his neck to read the clock on his bedside table. “Early. Not even five.”

Eddie hums into Buck’s neck, going boneless for a few blissful seconds before he suddenly stiffens. Seemingly aware that he’s stuck to his best friend like a barnacle, Eddie slowly lifts his head off Buck’s chest and meets his gaze. There’s a blush high on Eddie’s cheeks that Buck finds equal parts adorable and disheartening.

“Um…” Eddie says, slowly unlatching himself from Buck. “Sorry about that.”

Buck feels depressingly cold now that Eddie’s scooted a respectable few inches back. “Don’t worry about it. It was… kind of nice, actually.” And then Buck cringes because seriously? He had to say that last part out loud?

Eddie’s face gets even redder, but then he says, “Weirdly, that’s the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Well…” Buck hedges, “I make a pretty good pillow. And — I don’t, y’know, mind. If you don’t.”

Oh god, can a hole just open up in his bed and swallow him now and put him out of his misery?

But, miracle of miracles, Eddie begins to slowly inch closer again. He keeps his eyes fixed on Buck the entire time, like he’s expecting Buck to take back his offer. Buck practically holds his breath, terrified to do anything lest he scare Eddie off again. But then Eddie slowly resumes his earlier position, laying an arm gently across Buck’s stomach as he places his head back on Buck’s shoulder.

“Your mattress totally has a dent in the middle,” Eddie whispers.

Smiling, Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, holding him close. “Guess we’ll just have to get comfortable in the dent, then.”

He can’t be sure, but he swears he feels Eddie’s lips curve into a smile against his skin.

(also on ao3)

#911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #myfic #bed sharing prompts #theyweretooyoung #ali answers

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sendhelpiloveyeonjun · 8 months ago

Text

Pairing: non idol yeonjun x reader

Summary: it's hard to summarize because it's legit all over the place trying to make the three random sentences match but it's kinda funny!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving)

A/N: i wrote this 4 years ago for a random tags request on an old account and just found it but it was for a different idol (no i won't say who heh). i changed it to be for yj because i'm ill and need it to be for him. if i had a chance to completely re-write with these prompts now, it would be so much nastier but this is cute and i can see where my brain was back then.

the three prompts were:

"Then let’s give them something to talk about."

"Your lips are so pretty, I just can’t wait to see how they’ll look wrapped around my cock."

"You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s almost funny."

i can’t believe i convinced this 24-year-old man to beg on his knees for me. it was a joke, but yeonjun took me seriously and i’ve never been more uncomfortable—but also sort of…aroused?

“yeonjun”, i smacked his arm, tugging on it in attempt to get him off of the floor, “you look so ridiculous! get up!” i could see the smirk on his face even though his head was facing the ground, he was enjoying this.

“please let me fuck you, y/n”, he looked up at me, a full pout going, “i need to fuck you right now!”

i looked around, waving my hands at everyone who had gathered to watch, “he’s just kidding! this is all a joke!” he grabbed my hands and i glared down at him, “come on, y/n. i promise i’ll even last longer than 15 seconds this time!”

girls started to giggle and i could hear the whispers getting louder. this is so embarrassing i could die. i snatched my hands away from his, crossing my arms over my chest. tears welled up in my eyes as he stood, smirking down at me, “you’re so fucking pathetic, it’s almost funny”.

i gasped and smacked his chest, “this isn’t funny at all! you’re embarrassing me! worst friend i’ve ever had”. i tried to walk away, but he pulled me back, “aw, lighten up! it’s a joke, no one really cares”. i rolled my eyes and scoffed, “every single person in this stupid mall saw you begging to fuck me on the floor! they’re going to post this online and then everyone will be talking about us!”

“but there is no us”, he muttered, shrugging it off, “if you’re really worried about what they’ll say, then let’s give them something to talk about”. his arms slid around my waist and i gasped as our lips touched. is he kissing me?!

i pushed him off but he was quick to pull me back again, his lips moving against mine this time. damn… as soon as i started kissing back, he abruptly stopped, winking at me and walking off toward the entrance we came in. WHAT?!

“choi yeonjun!” i chased after him, ignoring all of the people talking about us. i can’t believe he’s so calm about having a freaking audience.

“hey!” i finally caught up, pulling on his arm, but he didn’t stop walking. “where are you going?”

“hurry up”, he took my hand and dragged me all the way to the car, ignoring how hard i was trying to pull in the opposite direction. he’s a little too big for me to win this one. he got in the car, still ignoring me, so i got in and threw my hands up, “what’s the problem?!”

he sighed and locked the door, looking at me with a weird look in his eyes. is he… “your lips are so pretty”, his gaze shifted down to my mouth and i felt my cheeks heating up, “i just can’t wait to see how they’ll look wrapped around my cock”.

my breath caught in my throat, my eyes darting away from his as he looked up. “you…you want to see that?” he turned my face toward his and i almost forgot where we were. he’s so cute…

“haven’t you ever thought about it? thought about sleeping together?” i’d be lying if i said i hadn’t. yeonjun is ridiculously hot and that stupid smile would make any girl melt. but here? in his car that’s parked in front of the mall?

i nodded, realizing i hadn’t answered him, and he took that as a cue to kiss me again. i took a deep breath and reached over to his pants, unhooking his belt to his surprise. “are you sure?” i rolled my eyes, “shut up, choi”.

he was bigger than i expected—no scratch that. he’s as big as i expected. i haven’t done this many times before and i never thought i’d do it to my best friend of 6 years.

here we fucking go.

he leaned his seat back and i got comfortable, stretched across the entire front half of the car. i thought maybe he’d take pity on me, but as i stared as his dick, rubbing it to try and stall, he groaned, “are you just going to stare or are you going to suck me off?”

i held back from spewing insults at him and licked my lips, taking as much as i could to see how much my jaw was going to hurt at the end. ow. fml.

i moved my hand as far up as possible, keeping my focus on the tip. his fingers ran through my hair, pulling gently before he was pushing me down, “don’t be a baby, take more”. i bobbed my head quickly, taking him deeper, but still using my hand to prevent him from choking me.

tears pricked at my eyes as he rammed the back of my throat, his hips pushing up to meet each of my downward movements. “fuck, your mouth feels incredible”, he held my head still, fucking up into my mouth carelessly, “i know what all the hype was about”. my eyes widened before i glared at nothing, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard to end this quickly. what the hell does he mean ‘hype’?

his groans filled the car and i could feel it getting warmer and wetter—not just the air. “can i cum in your mouth?” i gripped tighter with both hands down, sucking hard and moving quickly as his thighs tensed up. “shit!”

i closed my eyes as his cum spilled out over my tongue. this never tastes good, but i’ve certainly had worse. i sat up and wiped my mouth, swallowing and crossing my arms. “what the hell do you mean hype?”

he was panting, head tilted back as he turned to look at me, “i was joking, stupid”, he half-laughed, closing his eyes, “but it sure made you work even harder”.

i smacked his arm and sat forward, staring at nothing in particular, “you owe me now”. “owe you? owe you what exactly?” i shrugged and smirked to myself, “i suck your dick, you…” i looked at him and he lifted a brow.

“don’t have to ask me twice.”

not really sure how i feel about any of that reading it over again but honestly, kind of fun. i miss writing. maybe ill try again heh

#txt smut #yeonjun smut #txt x reader #txt imagines #yeonjun x reader #txt fanfic #txt hard thoughts

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celestialpaperhaze · 2 months ago

Text

I can quite literally count the number of ships I am passionate about on one hand (it is three ships only). Anyway, though I get quite embarrassed to talk about shipping in general, I feel like sharing some of my headcanons for a niche ship today so here is...

The Definitive List of My Blakeworth Headcanons

I have written QUITE a fair amount of fics for these fellows...

CW: Mentions of alcoholism and other ill-advised coping mechanisms.

≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼

Vincent is like a black cat if the cat were a person.

Vincent has disdain for everyone except for Victor.

“Treehouse” by Alex G is very them.

Vincent has a hard time asking for affection.

Vincent does not view things with Victor in a typical romantic context. However, Victor is his “person.”

Vincent is asexual and Victor is bi. I have not fleshed out anything beyond this.

Victor was Vincent’s first “crush.” He was not aware this was a crush and instead spent many waking hours attempting to rationalize his feelings for Victor.

In college, a lot of people found Vincent attractive and tried asking him out, but he rejected them all.

Victor flirted with a lot of people in college for fun but only ever had feelings for Vincent.

There was a period of time in college where Victor discovered he had very passionate feelings for Vincent and felt stupid for thinking Vincent would ever return them. (see: “Love on the Rocks”).

Due to the frequent stress of not knowing what he wanted out of life, Victor would often distract himself from reality to cope.

In college, he was not immune to the occasional “fling” or a night of drinking. Vincent judged him for both, calling his behavior reckless.

After Vincent’s car accident, Victor had a very rough time and resorted to binge drinking.

I know he also canonically smokes but I Do Not See This.

Victor is a little bit of an alcoholic!

I feel like canon supports this because he introduced Vincent to martinis and also he at some point “vomited all over the floor in the lavatory of [Vincent’s] residence” I dunno!

Vincent does not like physical touch.

Vincent’s equivalent of hand-holding is letting someone (Victor only) sit/stand very close to him.

He never initiates cuddling but doesn’t mind sharing a bed.

In college, sometimes they would lay next to each other on one of the small dorm beds and watch tv or something.

Vincent and Victor have different bedrooms in the mansion but on bad nights Vincent lets Victor sleep beside him.

On his first night after escaping Myers, Vincent couldn’t sleep alone because he was scared he would wake up in the basement. So he went to Victor’s room down the hall and asked him to sleep next to him.

Contrary to Vincent, Victor loves touch; however, he thinks very highly of Vincent and would never do anything to make him uncomfortable.

He sometimes longs to do little things like play with Vincent’s hair, but he values time spent with Vincent above all.

The “specially-mixed martinis” were Victor’s idea.

Vincent cannot eat raw meat/flesh despite it being necessary for his survival, because it reminds him of the basement.

After the accident, Vincent was in the basement for around two months. The effects of isolation during this time caused him to hallucinate Victor. Post-escape, it takes a few weeks for him to trust that Victor is real and he is no longer trapped in the basement.

Also post-basement, Victor is all that’s left of Vincent’s humanity :)

Vincent is fully convinced that his thirst for blood—both the literal blood that fuels his survival, and the blood of the company that stabbed him in the back—makes him no longer human. He sees himself as a monster, but Victor as his heart.

≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼≽^•༚•^≼

I can't believe we've gone YEARS without new content but I swear this fandom will be kept alive even if I am the last one standing.

#vincent the secret of myers #vincent edgeworth #victor blake #blakeworth #headcanons #fandom things #I am aroace #and these two have such a hold over me #I love imagining their bond as like #very deep but not reliant on relationship norms #I got a friend into this game recently #the hyperfixation is returning

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jukebox-arts · 1 month ago

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Escape: Ch 1: Oblivion

So it's been a hot minute since I've posted anything in the yautja/predator fandom, and for personal reasons I've decided to return to my fics and pick up where I left off. Robots have eaten my brain for weeks and while I still love my doofus husbands, I deserve a treat. A little slice of my Hear Me Out cake, if you will, and so I've come to share my backlog.

My yautja fic consists of 4 story arcs that were planned, with the first one being completed with about 10 chapters. It was short and sweet and serves as a prequel more than anything, as part 2 is much longer and more character-focused.

So, because this is my blog and I do what I want, I'm going to subject you all to my old brain rot :) (Please note, "Escape" and the first chapters of the sequel are about 2 years old and I didn't beta it)

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The first sensation came as a burning fatigue, not unlike his body after a long training day or sparring bender his clan brothers and he often had after too much drink; every muscle ached dully like the morning after, stiff and hard to command at first. Taking a few deep, controlled breaths, Lar’dha focused on his extremities, then worked inward to wake up, willing his body to shake off the weight of sleep while trying to recall the events of the night.

Then, he realized exactly how uncomfortable he was, his neck and collar strained, knees burning from improper posture—had he fallen asleep upright? Clicking in annoyance, he wondered if Nrachade had thought it would be funny to lock his drunken body in a storage closet while unable to fight back.

No. This was something else.

Despite his efforts to wake up, there was a heaviness that wouldn’t leave—his eyelids felt weighted and his limbs held a numbness that would not lift no matter his efforts. A yawn pushed through his sluggish body, his mandibles splaying with the motion—

—his mouth failed to open fully. Something restricted his tusks, kept them bound to his face.

A jolt of panic shot through his body then, granting enough push for him to open his eyes as realize this was not a closet—this wasn’t even his clanship! Feral preservation instincts pulsed through his mind and body now, the weight shedding at last as he lifted his arms to move—

—A metallic grinding sound pulled him back down. Growling deeply, Lar’dha looked around more closely, finding his neck and head restrained by whatever device was keeping his mandibles closed; giving his head a shake, he found it bound in the back to the wall, allowing only the faintest of movements while keeping him fully upright. Wiggling some more now that he could feel his body in full, the male Yautja found his ankles also clamped and spread to either side of his holding unit, still close enough to stand upright but far apart enough to be uncomfortable and lacking in leverage.

The vessel that held him was small, barely wide enough for his shoulders, with only about half a nok between himself and the panel of orange-tinted glass ahead of him. Whatever this was wanted to limit his motion as much as possible, it seemed.

Had he been on the other side of this box, he might have found it a clever way of entrapping live prey—but instead he was the one on display, his hands and wrists fully encompassed in shackles that were drawn by a chain cable into the floor through a small opening. He couldn’t grasp anything and had limited motion, but he could lift his hands at the elbow—only to hear a faint whir and more pressure dragging his arms back down with force. Unable to brace his legs or back, he lost the fight of force, his arms dragged back down into their waiting position.

A deep rumble vibrated in his body. Someone thought the Elite Hunter would make a fun display? They’d have to do so over his dead body!

His hearing canals caught a faint beeping from overhead, then a sharp prick in his right thigh—trying to glance down, Lar’dha saw a large needle surgically taped to his skin and a bright teal liquid slowly making its way to his skin.

Pauk! Sedatives!

The more he struggled, the faster the liquid seemed to move, and he had no chance to escape it, a defiant roar of frustration muffled by the muzzle he’d been fitted with.

He blacked out in moments.

***

Consciousness came at the sound of voices, distant and muffled like they were in a different room, but the warrior focused on his breathing, trying to shed the weight on his body again rather than attempt to chase down the voices. Lar’dha was never good about surprises—he preferred to be the one laying traps and catching others unaware—but this time he had the chance to walk through his thoughts as he woke up, take stock of the situation a bit better before flying into a justified rage.

What did he know?

Groaning as the ache of being held upright finally caught up sounded odd to him, masked as it was behind the humiliating cage on his face, but he was alive at least. He was caged, rather effectively for his consideration, and hooked up to some truly impressive sedatives that seemed to react to his anger. Clearly, anyone that had managed to catch him had enough technology at their disposal to read his vitals and counter any chances of rage or stress that would make his imprisonment an ordeal.

Again, he would be impressed if he wasn’t the one dealing with the set up and the subsequent humiliation it presented. Someone had managed to outthink him—a feat, surely, as Lar’dha was often cited for his cleverness and ability to discern behaviors and ideas through observation in order to counter his prey with clever ruses and traps, rather than rely on outright power. Hunting smartly was his key skill and why he became an Elite.

Yet somehow he was here, the reasoning for his capture eluding him, try as he might to recall what led up to this situation in the first place. If he had to reason a guess, whatever chemical concoction they used to sedate him might be affecting his memory as well—if that were true, he couldn’t risk another dose if he wanted to find a way out. He needed to stay calm and focused. Testing his theory about the chemical substance was a risk not worth taking for the moment if he expected to keep his awareness sharp.

Lar’dha checked his breathing, finding it sharp and shallow but slow, a very deliberate breath that made him realize the air in his chamber was not ideally balanced for him and that he may have been stuck longer than he’d liked to admit, running out of the leeway time his kind had in certain environments without their bio masks to counter the effects. Even more reason, then, to remain calm and not overtax himself.

Not yet at least.

There was little else to study in the box, so the Yautja turned his attention to the exterior area, warped by the layer of protective screening that separated him from the rest of the room. Or a corridor, more like, as it seemed to stretch quite a ways in either direction, though how far was anyone’s guess with his limited mobility. Vaguely, in the very periphery of his vision if he craned his neck to the left, he thought he saw a door frame, but it was flush to the wall and could just as well be simple wall paneling; until someone entered the room, he wouldn’t be able to confirm it.

In the other direction there wasn’t much of anything except a light fixture that failed to light, giving that side of the room a bit of a dimmer look—however he did see that the far wall was lined with more viewing boxes, all empty, from one end to the other—

—No, not all empty. Now that he was really looking, Lar’dha realized there was another trapped behind glass, bound in a similar pose to himself and muzzled, though this creature did not seem to have their head bound to the backplate of their display case, allowing it to bow forward in what he could only see as a pose of submission. Or death.

Chittering uneasily to himself, he glanced up to the top panel of the wall of cases and found a series of rhythmic lights that moved in a steady pattern. Vital signs. While he couldn’t be certain what exactly they were, he at least felt some assurance that he wasn’t trapped alone in a room with a corpse.

It did not explain what it was, however. In all his years of hunting, Lar’dha had encountered creatures both meek and ferocious, intelligent and violently dumb, personable and outright dishonorable, both in his own species and among the many, many things he’d studied and collected, but on occasion he would find things he was not familiar with. This was such a thing, tall and humanoid in a vague sense—it possessed defined arms and had an upright posture at least—with a small head and thick, short neck, it’s facial features obscured by the muzzle they sported. From what he could make out, their skin was smooth, with no definable marks or alterations to their body, and they had only thin drapings to call clothing that barely covered what it needed to and seemed ill fitted for protection of any sort.

With a start, he realized he was also barely wearing anything either, his awake mind finally taking in that he was exposed as well, wearing only a loincloth. Not even his own, at that!

They’d taken his dignity and his armor!

Above him came the beep-beeping that heralded an injection, the vibrant liquid sliding down the tube warningly; even if he had not lashed out, Lar’dha noticed his triple-beat-heart was thrumming harder, betraying the anger he felt inside and triggering the narcotics to come. He needed to calm himself, to focus on his breathing to prolong his lucid time without straining whatever time he had left in the less-than-optimal atmosphere of the box before his body started to fail to keep up with the environment.

Slow. Steady. The chemical stopped creeping when his heart rate slowed, however it did not retreat either. A warning, if anything, about behaving himself.

All good things in time, he told himself, words from his sire that he recalled often from the times when he was young and very eager to prove himself. It was his sire’s observant behaviors and teachings of patience that made him the warrior he is—consequently, the only one of his group to survive their chiva. He would not be able to face anyone of his clan again unless he had the trophy to prove his victory over such shameful circumstances, and that thought alone was almost more unbearable than being tied down like a spit roast waiting to be tressed up for the fire.

A sound, to the left.

He tried to crane his neck for a better view, just barely making out the section of wall he’d noticed before had opened and figures were entering. It was a door after all! Perfect.

It was abundantly clear to him that the two figures that entered were not the same species, and they were dressed as neither security nor doctors, but carried themselves with a focus stating they had purpose for being here. A short one with rough, red skin and yellow ridges approached his chamber, making unwavering eye contact with him as they did—he did not seem to be a threat to them, by their perspective. A mistake to be rectified as soon as he was able to. The companion, a dark teal-green and lanky thing, all sharp edges and twitchy but direct movements, went to the cell containing his fellow hostage and punched in something on a panel just past the edge of the viewing window; he could not see what, as the figure’s body blocked his line of sight.

Little Red had taken to studying the overhead feed while his gaze was distracted, reaching up to the right side of the box, just out of view, and doing… something to it. It was impossible to guess what, but it certainly did not grant him any more freedom than before. They met gazes again for a moment, and Lar’dha felt a discomfort at realizing just how dead they seemed—like the will and fight within Little Red had all but died long ago. Not even traces of sympathy or curiosity seemed to exist in their amber irises as they backed away and turned toward the exit.

Inner deadness did not seem to plague the lanky one whose mouth was flashing a vibrant, hungry grin as they led the other prisoner from their cell and toward the door. At least now, the displeased Yautja had a better view of his prison mate, however brief it was: tall, as he’d assumed, almost as tall as himself even, and a thin tail that drooped toward the floor like a limp piece of rope. They had legs after all, which had to be the most striking part of their figure that he could determine, as their hips and thigh were wide and round, leading to thick legs overall with a digitigrade stance and erred closer to human than animal—this contrasted with their otherwise thin and long frame, giving them a distinctly odd shape that he could only describe as “soft and round”, as no other words came to him.

For a breath, the round, smooth being lifted their head, seemingly glancing at him as they passed, and the elite found a similarly dead gaze as Little Red had. Had that creature once been in a cell as well? Was that his fate if he did not manage to leave this place??

I need to get out.

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hjinnie · 2 years ago

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UNCALL, xx

two: what if you lick my head (written part, 1k)

warning: sex "joke"?, NOT PROOFREAD!!

Your head is spinning around like crazy, and you swear your skirt was white when you arrived.. Well, it’s a weird shade of grayish brown now, and Kazuha is taking way too long to get here. She sounded weirdly manly on the phone and your drunk mind wondered if she was on anabolic steroids.

You decided to just obey her and stay right where you were, focusing on not throwing up, couldn’t risk that being the top news of tomorrow. But then a black Range Rover pulls up and you’re pretty damn sure she drives a minty mini cooper.

The fancy car’s window is rolled down and a slightly familiar face pops up. It’s quite hard to figure out the person’s features, but the realization hits you like a wrecking ball, because what the hell is Jake doing there.

“Um, hey Y/N.” he mutters, looking slightly dazed. “Get in the car, c’mon.”

Your immediate reaction is to turn your head like a lost puppy, because that’s how you were feeling to be precise.

What do you mean get in the car? Did Kazuha send you here? Since when are you so handsome? Those were some of the questions you meant to ask, but instead you just shuffled towards the passenger seat.

No words were exchanged on the way to your dorm, the only sound to be heard was the light melody of “Kiss You” by One Direction, if you were thinking straight, a snarky typical would be the comment, but the only thoughts in that weird little brain of yours was how sleepy you were and how hot Jake Sim looked driving with one hand on the wheel and his eyebrows furrowed in his sexy ass car.

And Jake could definitely confirm that if someone told him he’d be in his car driving a very drunk you home, the circumstances would be different, ‘cause well, who’d he be to ever deny a hot girl? But no, said hot girl was slumped in the passenger seat of his car, and just then he grew worried and prayed that hitting the gym everyday made a difference so he could carry you to your doorstep.

Finally arriving at your residence, Jake sighed and tried to open and close the car doors as silently as he could. He stared down at you and wrapped one of his arms around your knees, while the other held your back. Damn, he admires those grooms who carry their brides like this because it is not easy.

“You know, this is very uncomfortable” you muttered lightly, eyes closed shut, worrying him that he was doing something hurtful.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he stopped his tracks, throwing you up, in an attempt to make you feel cozier.

“No, that’s not it.” you deny, holding his hand in place so he would stop moving, you might actually puke if he keeps up with it. “I just don’t like that you can see the top of my head.” Jake had a look of puzzlement settled on his face, not that you could see it, and then he started walking again. “I mean, I hate taller people… What if you lick my head?”

Jake stops abruptly once again ‘cause what the fuck? Did you seriously just express your concerns of him licking your head? If it was a kink, weird shit, even for him. “Uh, yeah, no need to worry, I promise no heads will be licked.” well, one would have been, if only you hadn’t called him in the middle of his intricate foreplay with the blonde he was with. And just like that you went back to your deep sleep, as if no words were ever exchanged.

Hitting your floor in the HYBE building, the elevator seemed to take a lot longer than it normally did even for Jake, who lived two floors up from yours. But when he finally walked out of it, you were awaken by him putting you down on your feet. “Hey, Y/N, do you have your keys?”

You nod, messily opening your purse and searching for it, easy task. Or not, because you couldn’t find it for your life. Jake noticed that you were having a hard time and immediately reached for it, looking for it oh his own, but also failing on the task.

“Oh, fuck. I guess I don’t.” you say, looking at him with concerned eyes.

“Just pray that no one who knows who you are stole it.” he - in your eyes - sexily glanced at his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning, I guess you can just go up with me.”

You know you would refuse, but all you wanted was to sleep, and how were you supposed to say no when he was batting his eyelashes at you so shamelessly like that? - no, he wasn’t, by the way. So you agree, more excited than you should be, but hell you were drunk, it was all ok.

The weirdest looks from all of the boys were sent to you both as soon as he stepped inside of their apartment, dragging you by the wrist, plus the oh so disapproving stare Jungwon was making sure Jake noticed.

“Stop staring, I’m not hooking up with her.” he corrected them all, sighing and shaking his head in doubt, what has his life become?

After escaping from the curious group of men, you two reached Jake’s room, since HYBE moved, you each got a bedroom. You lazily walk to his bed, where you fell into, with your very dirty skirt and gross heels hanging from your feet.

“Oh, the fuck not” he whispered only for himself. “Y/N, can you please get up? I’ll find you something to change into.”

And so you did, changing into one of his shirts and sweatpants, right there in front of him, not even giving the poor man time to turn around. Well that was quick, he determined in his brain. And then you were finally free to fall back into your slumber.

No way Jake would sleep on the floor in my own house, zero chance of it happening. So he laid down maybe way too close, but turned the light off and away from you, wondering for the fiftieth time what the hell was going on.

home girl deadass said away | cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff

masterlist

sure, people aren't really aware of what they do when they have alcohol in their body, but how can you uncall your sunbaenim jake, unsleep in his bed and unwake up next to the very same boy, not very sure of what happened the night before? and how will you explain to your manager why the enhypen x lesserafim video scheduled for tomorrow has to be cancelled as soon as possible?

a/n: hi my dears!! here's a written chapter for you guys! hope you like it! send me an ask to be part of the taglist or to just chat <3

taglist: @bubblytaetae @bookishcalls @blossomnct

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winterswhite · 2 years ago

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Personal rant, CW for talks of blood and medical stuff

The past 5 days have really been so much for me and it... seriously doesn't feel like only 5 days at all with how much has gone on

On Wednesday evening I got home from work feeling extremely weak after telling my QPP repeatedly that I don't feel good, and after I was no longer able to hold my head up or open my eyes without extreme effort my roommate took me to the emergency room where we waited 9ish hours for me to even be taken to a bed and then one or two more to be seen

When they did get there, they said they needed to take blood, give me an IV, do chest x-rays, and a few other tests (I think they tested me for a stroke too) because clearly a lot was wrong

The nurse tried to put the IV in my left arm and then my hand, failing both times because she couldn't find a vein. She then called over a second nurse, who said since I had already been poked twice, she wasn't going to poke me unless she was sure she had one

She left without poking me.

She called over a doctor to come with a whole ass ultrasound setup to use that to find a vein, and they only found a suitable one in my upper right arm, meaning I had to hold it up at an uncomfortable angle the entire time and because of where it was, it also hurt the entire time (only a little, but still)

They also interrupted it in the middle to take more blood ("well that can't be good")

Also, while they were putting the IV in, I remember them struggling to reach the vein, and the pain from them wiggling it around trying to reach my difficult ass vein, and then hearing "how attached are you to this sweatshirt?"

I had... bled all over it (fortunately they stopped the bleeding pretty fast, very different from my last experience with an IV where I nearly bled out on the hospital floor)

Anyway, after wanting to cry from how uncomfortable the whole experience was but eventually managing to sleep through the last half hour of it, they told me about my bloodwork, and a lot is wrong! Some of the things that have always been wrong with me, and some new things, like low thyroid and low potassium, low sodium etc

They scheduled me for a follow-up appointment in a week and I leave, it is now Thursday morning

I picked up the meds they prescribed me and got home around noon, exhausted from not having slept all night, and napped

Only to wake up to a terrible toothache out nowhere, that at its worst was so bad I couldn't lift a finger

I ran to the dentist but they were closing by the time I got there and told me to come back the next morning

I did, and they said I need an emergency root canal, but that it would be hard to find any endodontists who take my insurance, which... yeah, it proved to be impossible

So now, today, I'm scheduled for the root canal, and I have to pay for the whole $1500 out of pocket

Which I haven't reached, but... I'll have to see what I can manage now

Also, through all of this, my workplace is telling me it's "unacceptable" not to show up to work because they're short-staffed. As if I wasn't stuck in the fucking hospital. I worried about getting fired, because I need that money to pay for the fucking root canal and I hadn't even received my first paycheck, so I went in to work yesterday, but wasn't able to finish a full day of work because I felt like Shit

They still told me they need a doctor's note specifically stating that I can't work for x number of days (even though I gave them my emergency room discharge papers to prove I was unwell) before they could believe that I was actually not feeling well enough to work

So I guess I'm going to ask the fucking endodontist for one

And this cuts into my funds for my trip to take the JLPT and some other things in June, which I also really need so I can get a better job. It is absolutely necessary that I take this trip, but I'll no longer have the money for it yet, and travel costs only go up as you get closer to the date of, so lol.

Anyway. It has not even been 5 full days since I first went to the ER. I need a fucking break.

#anposting #/rant

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sissytobitch10seconds · 2 years ago

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All the Things Yet to Come Are the Things That Have Passed

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Summary: Viktor wished it could be Five with his whole heart and soul, but he missed his siblings so dearly that he doesn't really mind that it's them.

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnant trans character, medical inaccuracies, starved characters, and general PTSD

Word Count: 6,103

Ship(s): Five Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: It's the second to last fic! This is another small step forward in their healing process so while not a ton of stuff happens here it was very cathartic for me to write. While I will admit that I do enjoy putting my characters in really hard Situations, I love writing them healing for it almost as much. Thank you all for reading, I appreciate it so much! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Days were a lot easier to count when he was no longer trapped inside of the apocalypse. Viktor was still confined to a single room for the time being since Grace didn’t know what would happen if he tried to venture from the bed, but he felt safe there so he wasn’t complaining. He liked being able to tilt his head up and see not only his own vitals, but that of his baby. He could also turn to the side and see that Five was still there and still very much alive and okay. He was recovering slowly as well, which only made sense given how much of his power he had used to get them back to where they could really have a life.

It was nice to finally have some time to rest in a place that was clean and well-kept after living in the apocalypse for years on end. He’d even been able to have a bath with running, warm water and a washcloth that wasn’t threadbare and falling apart. He didn’t remember the last time that he had been fully submerged in water instead of just cleaning what needed to be.

Something that he had noticed on the harder nights when he was unable to sleep was that the house was a lot louder than he thought it was as a child. Five had helped him uncover his powers and learn how to use them when they first ended up in the wasteland, but it had just been them when they were there. Now Viktor was able to compare what it was like to hear things where he previously couldn’t before. The house ached and groaned as the wind pushed against the sides, tree branches scraping against the windows on the third floor and attic, the sound of people sleeping and mumbling as they drifted off.

When he was a child he had always been able to hear more than the standard person did but he had never been around actual ordinary people to be able to tell that. He thought that he had just had a talent for music even if he had no powers, but as it turned out, the medicine that Reginald had given him what just stunting his powers back enough that he wasn’t able to hear every minute detail like he could now. He had excelled when he was playing the violin because he was able to pick up on the tiny changes that a lot of other people didn’t, though.

Being back in the house that he had grown up in was both comforting and disconcerting. For a while, he had assumed that it wasn’t something that was ever going to happen for him and Five. They had been trying to so long to get back to a place where they belonged but to no avail. Now they were back, somewhere where it was safe for them to grow their little family, and it felt surreal.

The past couple of days had been very quiet as Grace tried to make sure that he slept as much as possible. She was very dedicated to the idea that rest like that was what was going to help both him and Five be able to recuperate rom the massive power dump that they had. He was inclined to believe her since she had been caring for seven super powered children since they were all four.

Every day he began to feel better and brighter, like the life was being dripped back into him through the IV in his arm and the feeding tube down his throat. He was uncomfortable because of it and the lack of movement that his body was unused to, but overall it was a wonderful thing to watch himself get better.

Eight days after his arrival, Luther knocked on the door to the infirmary and then swayed back and forth nervously. Viktor pried open his eyes from where he had been pretending to sleep to appease Grace. “You can come in, you know. I get that we look kind of scary after everything that we’ve been through but Five and I don’t bite,” he glanced over to his husband as he said that. Five had both used more of his powers and wasn’t at risk when being put under by a sedative, so he had been out cold since they had gotten back. Grace had explained that a sedative strong enough to keep Viktor asleep would affect the baby, which was something none of them wanted to risk.

“I just didn’t want to disturb you if you didn’t want me in here,” Luther explained. “We didn’t really have the best relationship before you left and you’ve been through a lot, so you don’t need any extra stress.”

“It’s okay, Luther,” Viktor assured him again. “I haven’t been around people other than my husband for the last decade but I can tell that you’ve changed. You’re welcome to come and sit with me. I could use the company of someone that’s not asleep.”

“Right,” Luther flushed and gave Viktor and awkward little smile. He crossed the floor and then lowered himself down into the armchair that was angled towards the beds for visitors that were going to be sleeping in the infirmary. It was something that Grace had included when they were children because of their stubbornness at wanting to be with their best friends and siblings. “I, uh, a lot has changed since you left. Including me.”

Viktor shifted so that he was sitting up properly and holding his stomach in his hands. “What happened? I know you can’t tell me everything, but it seems like even the house is different.”

The taller superpowered man thought about it for a moment, his eyes taking on a far-away look as he sifted through all of his memories. “Well, not long after you and Five disappeared, Diego left.”

“Where did he go?” Viktor asked worriedly. He had yet to see the marksman and while he and Diego hadn’t been the closest, the latter preferring to spend his time fighting with Luther or hanging out with Klaus, Viktor still cared deeply for his brother. Some of his fondest memories were of them working on music together when they were allowed to have their hour of extracurriculars of their choice.

“He joined the police academy for a while. Allison and I theorized that it had something to do with him wanting to help people but not being in Dad’s pocket. He left after less than a year after he joined it,” Luther explained.

“What happened after that?” Viktor asked. Knowing that his brother had left the Academy was reassuring, he wanted all of his siblings to be able to escape the strict control of the man that had abused them their entire lives.

That question took a little longer to answer than Viktor was necessarily comfortable with. “I don’t know,” Luther shrugged. “We never really kept in touch and at that point Dad had already sent me to a university so that I could study. I kept me going on missions all the way until he died and it was only after he was gone that I realized how wong he was for doing that.”

A warmth spread through Viktor’s chest. He knew that his siblings weren’t likely to keep in touch with each other when they were finally free to go their separate ways, there wasn’t much that bonded them together back then, but it seemed like they had been keeping track of each other enough to know that the others were okay. Even though they were all different people and they hadn’t been allowed to develop their personalities until they were away from Reginald, they had been raised together and thus belonged together in at least a small way.

“What about the others?”

“Well, Allison left on our birthday. She said that she was going to go to Hollywood to become a famous movie star. She was always talking about it, but she did it more after you all left. I think that it might have been her way of coping with the fact that you were gone. It hit us all pretty hard when we realized you weren’t come back,” Luther admitted.

“Did she make it? She was always the most melodramatic when we did those little plays,” Viktor smiled fondly. He and Five had reenacted a couple of the scenes from their assignments in between keeping themselves alive in their wasteland. It was something that had kept them close to their siblings while they were trying their hardest to get back to them.

“She did,” Luther nodded. “Her first big movie came out a year after she left and then she just kept making more. I think she got married recently too, to an actor named Patrick.”

Viktor smiled. “That’s wonderful. What about Ben?”

“You could just ask me, you know,” Ben said from the doorway.

Luther jerked in his chair and looked like he was about to leave, but the other ex-hero quickly motioned for him to sit back down. “I know that our last couple years in the Academy weren’t great, but we’re still family, Luther. You can be hanging out with Viktor at the same time as me, as long as he’s also okay with it.”

“I missed you all so much that I want all of you around me all the time. Not literally, I think I would get pretty fed up with not being able to hear my own thoughts or be alone with my husband, but I did missed you a lot,” he laughed. Despite all the time that had passed and the confidence that he had gained from being off his medication, he was still awkward and social cues were still very difficult.

Ben laughed as he walked over. He grabbed another one of the crappy chairs that were stacked in the corner of the infirmary from back in their school days, when they learned about medical procedures as they were performed on their siblings. “How are you feeling today, Vik?”

“Better,” the other nodded. “I think every day I’m beginning to get healthier. I can eat more than I did when I first arrived and Mom said that I’ve already gained two pounds. Hopefully most of that is going to Baby.”

That softened the air around them as both of his brothers were reminded of the tiny, unborn life that Viktor was harboring inside of him. “I still think it’s crazy that you and Five are actually going to be parents in a couple of months,” Ben commented.

“I know, it’s been hard for me to process too and I’m the one that’s actually pregnant,” Viktor laughed. It felt good to do that again. Ben had been fairly close with him and Five before they had left, so there was extra comfort when it came to hanging out with that particular brother.

They lapsed into silence for a moment as no one really knew what to say. Then Ben shifted in his chair, “So when you first got back we reached out to Allison and Klaus, they said that they would be flying back to come and visit you. I don’t know how long they’re going to stay.”

“Klaus and Allison are living with each other?” Viktor asked. He hadn’t been able to ask Luther about that particular member of his family before they had been interrupted.

Ben nodded. “He moved out there with her two years ago. He decided that if he was going to be able to get clean then he had to do it in a place devoid of all the memories he had before and where he didn’t know any of the drug dealers. He went to a rehab facility out in LA and has been doing really well since. I think he’s training to be a dance instructor at the moment, but the career ideas keep changing.”

Viktor had only been around for the beginning of Klaus’ substance abuse issues, they had started when they were all thirteen but had gotten radically worse a month after their fifteen birthday, but he was immensely proud of his brother for being able to do something so hard. “I’m gonna be happy to see them. Hopefully Five will be awake by the time that they get here.”

“Speaking of awake,” a voice from the doorway startled everyone other than Viktor. He had heard their mother approaching from when she had been down in the kitchen, a side effect of having to live paranoid of violent survivors and breaking buildings for the majority of his adult life. Grace tutted, shaking her head affectionately as she walked over to her children. “I’m very happy to see you all getting along with each other, but Ben and Luther are going to have to come back and visit another time. Viktor needs his rest so that baby of his can come to us strong and healthy.”

“Of course, Mom,” Luther replied as he got up. He stopped and awkwardly smiled at his brother before he finished his departure. “I’ll come and talk to you when you’re feeling up for visitors again, if you’d like.”

“I would like that,�� Viktor smiled. He had barely known Luther, and had only seen the hard, protective outside of him when they lived together, so he was excited to get the chance now that things were different. Before they had a chance to say anything else, both of the brothers were ushered out of the room and Viktor was once again left alone with his husband.

---

Another week passed before something new finally happened. He was still having near daily ultrasound and doppler checks to make sure that the baby was still growing well inside of him. Nothing much had changed and the baby was steadily improving in health, but after so much anxiety about possibly losing them Viktor wanted to be sure as often as he could be.

He had also been growing in strength, which was most likely contributing to the health of his unborn child. He had gotten most of the monitors removed, but he still consistently had to be hooked up to an IV to administer fluids whenever he was feeling low and the feeding tube to give him some extra nutrients. He had begun to move around more, spending a lot of his days in the chair in the corner of the room instead of his hospital bed. He had also been showering himself instead of allowing Grace to give him a sponge bath. The first time that he had showered was something that he would never forget, and he had never felt cleaner when he cuddled up in his bed.

His newfound freedom when it came to mobility allowed him to nestle up in Five’s bed whenever he was feeling lonely. Luther and Ben still visited him from time to time to chat with him, especially after they convinced Grace to let them take their dinners up in the infirmary to keep Viktor company while he ate. Despite the company that he had from two of his siblings, he still felt isolated when his companion wasn’t by his side as Five had been for almost a decade.

Viktor was settled down in the chair of the corner and had been all morning. He had a book spread open on the arm of the chair and he was reading it out loud, his other hand resting firmly on his stomach. He had a blanket tossed over his legs to keep out the vague chill of the infirmary since he was still having difficulty regulating his own body temperature.

“Knock, knock,” Ben interrupted as he walked up to the door.

The other man didn’t mind at all, since he was starting to get bored of his activity anyway. If the baby had been moving or was actually there and he could see some kind of reaction, reading out loud would have been a much better thing to pass the time. Seeing as they were still soundly asleep inside of him, however, it was mostly just tiring his voice and making him frustrated when he stumbled over the words. “Just in time. I’m starting to go stir crazy in here,” he chuckled.

“Well, I have good news about that. Mom thinks that some movement would do you some good. As long as your joints aren’t hurting you too bad we can go for a walk in the gardens. Luther’s worked really hard on them since Dad died and they’re absolutely beautiful now,” Ben explained.

Memories of what the grounds had looked like back in the days of the Umbrella Academy came rushing back to Viktor. The grass had been cut so short in the few places that it was allowed to grow that it was basically like sitting on dirt. There was a singular massive oak tree towards the back gate of the house that none of them were allowed to go near. There had been no flowers, no shrubs, and instead of a path they had a race track that looped around the garden for when they had to run laps.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about leaving Five alone in the room, just in case he woke up. When he voiced this concern to Ben, he was half expecting to be met with rolled eyes and dismissal. Instead, his brother just walked over and gently took his hand. “I know that you’re worried. But Mom has him under pretty heavy sedation and she’s not going to be bringing him out of it for a while. There is a non-zero chance that he will wake up, that’s true. But if he does, then Mom or Luther will inform us immediately and I’ll use the Horror to carry you back up here through the window so you can be with him.”

Viktor fidgeted for a moment as he thought about the offer. He didn’t want to leave his husband but he was also desperate to get outside into the fresh air. The window in the infirmary had been opened a couple of times during his recovery, but Grace had been worried enough about them getting cold that she didn’t do it often.

“Alright, if you really promise,” Viktor nodded.

Ben extended his hand out towards the other man with his pinky outstretched, “I promise.”

Viktor laughed as he hooked his finger around Ben’s. He knew that his siblings were always going to be bigger than him because even when they were all very young he had been the smallest. Doing the last of his growing in a place where he didn’t have steady nutrients hadn’t helped in the slightest, but he was reminded of it based on the difference in their hands immediately.

After the decision had been made, Ben went downstairs and got Grace. She helped him into a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt that stretched over his quickly growing stomach, and a jacket to keep away the chill. Their mother also had a wheelchair for him to sit in if he got too tired and so he could make his way through the house easier. She wanted him to walk outside to get some sun and proper fresh air, so she wasn't going to let him tire out by just getting down to the back door.

Ben was there by his side as he allowed Grace to push him out of the recovery room and down the hallway. The infirmary was on the first floor, which was specifically done so that it was beside both of the kitchens. He felt anxiety rising in his chest when his husband was removed from his view by the walls of their home. He had been asleep and unable to speak with Five since they had gotten back and when they were in the wasteland they hadn’t been exactly joined at the hip, but it was still disconcerting for him to be so far away from his partner after they had been through so much together.

He reassured himself by rolling what Ben had said over and over in his head. If something happened, Five was in the best hands that he could be and Viktor would be back in a second. It was a good idea for them to spend some time apart from each other so that they could get back to the life that they had promised they were going to have. They were always going to be one of those couples that was far too attached to each other, but they had always dreamed of having careers and education outside of Grace and Reginald. It was something that they were going to pursue after the baby came, but it also meant they couldn’t be in the same room as the other at all times.

Once they got to the edge of the garden, Viktor placed one hand on his stomach and the other on the arm of the wheelchair. Ben stood next to him as he slowly pushed himself up into a standing position, his hand out and ready to help his brother should he need it. As soon as he was standing, Grace left them to go attend to some of the household chores and keep an eye on Five like she had promised Viktor she would.

Ben looped his arm together with Viktor’s and the two of them began to walk through the opulent gardens that had taken the training space in the backyard. A lot had changed since Viktor was last back there. The running path was gone and had been replaced by an even stone walkway that weaved through an artful arrangement of blooming flowers and neatly trimmed shrubs.

“The air is so clear here,” Viktor commented softly. He tilted his head up so that he could see the crisp robin’s egg blue of the sky, which was only broken up by a couple of fluffy white clouds. He knew that it wouldn’t stay like that for long given where they lived, but it was a soothing to see anyway.

“Was it not where you and Five came from?” Ben asked carefully, trying hard to make suer that he didn’t trigger his brother.

“No, everything was covered in the dust and the air was full of all sorts of stuff. Something horrible had happened there, Ben. It made it so hard to live,” Viktor sighed.

The conversation dropped after that because it was clear that neither of them wanted to continue talking about the atrocities that Viktor had been through at the current moment. They were slowly walking down the stone-lined path to make their way through the garden.

They rounded the corner to see that three other people, who Viktor had somehow missed when they first left the house, were sitting there. He turned towards Ben with a perplexed look before he tried to figure out who was waiting for them around the bend before they got there. A smile split across his face when he saw the rest of his siblings, his heart fluttering like mad in his chest. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed all the others until he was finally back and in front of them.

“Viktor?” Allison asked as she got tugged out of trying to mediate the conversation between Diego and Klaus. She got up from the bench that she had been sitting on and then reached slowly out to him, as if to ask if it was okay to check and make sure that he was real.

The other superhero barely even thought about whether or not he wanted to be touched as he grasped her hand and then tugged her closer to him. “Hey Allie,” he whispered as he then wrapped his arms around her fully to bring her in for a near bone-crushing hug.

“I thought that we were never going to get you back. When Ben called us I almost didn’t believe him, Klaus was the one to remind me that Ben would never do something like joke about you two coming home,” Allison murmured into her brother’s hair. Viktor had recently had Grace cut it so that it was at a manageable length he actually enjoyed. When he was in the wasteland, but he and Five had let their hair grow as long as it needed to and then lopped it off when they felt like they would hurt the other or themself by doing so.

She pulled away from him so that she could mop the tears off of her face with the side of her hand. “I’m sorry for crying on your shoulder. Do you want to sit down?” she asked as she gestured her hand towards the bench that she had been sitting on.

Viktor glanced over to Ben who gave him a small nod. He hadn’t been there to hear absolutely everything that Grace had said about his care, so he was trusting his brother to be able to help him manage it. Ben had always been more into the medical side of helping their mother in the infirmary anyway, Viktor had just wanted to be helpful.

Carefully, he walked over to the bench and then lowered himself down onto it. His bones were very fragile from having to suffer through his teenage years with barely any nutrients, so they weren’t tolerating the stress that came with having to spread what little they already had for a baby very well. He was in low amounts of pain pretty steadily throughout the day but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle now that he knew his mini-family inside of his family was safe.

The next person to hug him was Klaus, who threw his arms over his brother’s shoulders lazily to bring them closer together. “I’m glad that you’re back, V. Having to be the only trans person in the entire Academy was just too much for little old me.”

Viktor laughed, he had forgotten how good it felt to do that as often as he had been. “I think that you were able to handle all the attention that brought just fine. You never shied away from Dad when he was yelling at you to stop being feminine the way I did for being masculine.”

“Yeah but Mom said that medication had you all fucked up in the head on purpose. I relate to that too,” Klaus said, his face softening affectionately.

He wanted to steer the conversation away from that as quickly as he could. Ben walked over to the other side of the path and sat down on the cement blocks that separated the gravel from the grass and woodchips. Allison was standing restlessly by him, clearly having something to say but not being able to express it properly. She looked a lot more like herself than she had when Viktor had been looking at the pictures of her that Ben had brought him a few days ago. She was wearing a pair of brown chinos with a button-up shirt that she had tied the bottom corners of to make it a pseudo crop top. She had some of her hair in a bun on the top of her head, which had been her favorite way to wear it when they were allowed to do their own.

Viktor turned his head so that he was looking at the last person. He and Diego had always had a strained relationship, more than the one that he had with Luther. Diego had been struggling with the idea of being inferior to anyone but he also had a massive heart that was overflowing with empathy. He had tried to befriend Viktor several times in the quiet of the in-between moments when no one was looking at them, but he always threw himself in the opposite direction when he felt any kind of scrutiny tossed his way.

“Hey, Di,” he said softly as he looked over Klaus and directly at his last brother.

“Hey,” Diego replied awkwardly. “I’m glad you’re back too. E-especially with th-the,” he paused and his mouth twisted. Even after all the time that had passed, Viktor was still able to recognize it as the expression he made when he knew that his stutter was acting up.

“Me too,” Viktor placed his hand protectively over his stomach. “Five and I always knew we wanted kids, but we wanted to raise them in this time instead of the one that we came from. It’s like the universe was telling us that we were going to get what we wanted even if I wish that I had been in better health before I got pregnant.”

Allison listened intently. “My husband and I have been thinking about having a baby of our own. Klaus said that we have to find him a place to move to before that happens though,” she rolled her eyes affectionately at her brother.

“Dear sister, I have to deal with enough shrieking and screaming from beings that only I can see, I don’t also need it from one that everyone can,” Klaus huffed out in explanation. “Congrats on starting your own little family, Vik.”

It turned out that the only thing he needed to slot back into a space in the family was to reunite with his siblings once. Klaus and Allison were both staying at the Academy for the time being, having promised Viktor that they would be there until Five woke up. Diego still lived in The City like Ben and Luther did, so he came and visited but wasn’t actually staying in the building. Each of the siblings had been visiting Viktor and doing things with him to keep him from getting cabin fever.

Allison would sit with him in the living room and show him some of her favorite movies. She refused to let him watch any of hers, obviously embarrassed at the idea of the people that knew her most intimately seeing some of her earlier films. She would always make them a bowl of popcorn, going so far as to bring Viktor a little bowl of chocolate sauce to dip his in, and they would cuddle together on the couch. It was nice to hear sounds and see a television playing something other than the news in a house where Reginald would have never allowed that before.

Luther came and talked with him about what had happened in the past and some of the things that were happening to him now. It was clear he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing with his brother and was trying his best. Eventually he settled on bringing some of the foods that he was learning how to cook up to the infirmary for them to share. They promised that as soon as Viktor was feeling well enough that he could be on his feet for more than half an hour at a time, they’d make something together.

Ben continued to visit Viktor and take him out to the gardens for walks. They went on one at two in the afternoon every day that the weather was good. They took the same winding path through the gardens and talked about the books that they were both reading. Viktor had recently developed some insomnia, which was very common for pregnant people entering the third trimester. He fought the panic that always waited for him in the deep parts of the night by starting what was essentially a book club with his brother.

Klaus was the one that really shocked him. He brought in hoards of knitting supplies and then began to teach Viktor how to make homemade clothes for the baby. Viktor hadn’t even thought that far into the future, too obsessed with the idea of health and safety to realize what the day-to-day logistics of raising a child would be. Klaus gave Viktor all the drama that Luther had been too oblivious to see or too shy to tell him during their talks.

Diego didn’t come and visit him for the first couple days after he had met up with all of the siblings again. Given that their relationship had been very strained when they were younger, it only made sense that he would be hesitant to come where he might not be wanted. He got bold after a little while and eventually visited with Viktor for what must have been six hours. For the most part, he’d just come and sit with the other man in silence while they both napped. Eventually he brought his guitar and began to help Viktor play a different instrument than his violin, one that he could play around his baby bump while sitting on the hospital bed.

---

Another two weeks passed while Grace was weening Five off of the sedation that he had been on while he recovered from his injuries. Much like Viktor, his body had also begun to respond positively to the nutrients that was being fed to them through the feeding tubes and his skin looked less sallow. It would take time and him actually being able to physically eat enough for his muscle to replenish back to what it had been when he was fourteen and healthy.

Viktor was sitting on the huge recliner in the corner of the room with a book opened on his lap. He was stroking his stomach while reading allowed to the baby inside, feeling a few fluttering movements from within. The baby had yet to move in a way that anyone else would have been able to feel, but Viktor could feel every tiny movement since the child was inside of him.

He glanced up as his brain convinced him that he was hearing something, that there was some other noise in the room around him instead of filtering from elsewhere in the house. He knew that it was ridiculous, he had been unable to hear anything from his husband in what had to have been months since they returned back to where they belonged. The breath was stolen from his lungs when he saw the hazel-green eyes that he had fallen so deeply in love with looking sleepily back at him.

“Five?”

“Hey,” he smiled like this wasn’t the best thing that had happened to Viktor since getting to hear their child’s heartbeat.

The pregnant man shut his book and let it tumble down to the floor as he struggled up to his feet and over to the other hospital bed. He hefted himself up with a smooth motion, the excitement and adrenaline preventing him from feeling the aches and pains that had been plaguing him since he got pregnant. “I can’t believe that you’re awake,” he whispered as he cupped his husband’s face in both of his hands.

“I thought that I could hear you talking and I wanted to see what you were reading. You always used to read out loud whenever I was having trouble sleeping,” Five murmured. He reached up and weakly turned his head to the side so that he could kiss at Viktor’s palm.

“I was reading to our baby, Five,” he replied. “They’re okay. You did it, you got us back to where we belonged safely.”

“I did?” his eyes widened almost comically fast.

Tears had long since begun to rush down his face and drip onto the blanket, but neither of them cared. They had never truly been separated, but Viktor had desperately missed the company of his husband amongst the visits of his siblings. “Mom gave me an ultrasound, I listened to their heartbeat and I got to see them. They’re growing so strong in there, they have ten fingers and ten toes,” he sniffled. They hadn’t been able to get that definitively, of course, but there was enough definition in the grainy black and white image that Viktor was fairly certain of his claim.

“They’re going to be okay?” Five asked. He looked down to the rounded bump on his husband’s front before he tilted his head back up to Viktor.

The other couldn’t say anything, just wordlessly nodding before he leaned down and stole another kiss. “We’re going to be okay, Five. The three of us aren’t alone anymore. We have Mom to take care of our injuries just like we did before we left and all of our siblings still really love us. We’re going to be able to raise our family after all.”

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miclipse · 9 months ago

Text

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ YOUR ROMAN EMPIRE.

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, michael kaiser (separate).

synopsis: things he did that you often think about.

word count: 5.3k (~1.0k each)

cw: afab! reader, sfw, established relationships, nicknames used (baby, gorgeous, meine liebe, good girl, pretty girl), pre-wildcard! kunigami, mentions of period (rin's), kaiser being a smug bastard & also soft.

note: first time writing for the blue lock boys <3 comments appreciated!

ᯓ★ isagi yoichi ᝰ.ᐟ

“does it still hurt alot, baby?”

isagi, who was kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch, continued pressing the ice pack against your swollen ankle.

his other hand was supporting the heel of your foot as he gently rotated it in circular motions to help ease the pain in the muscles.

your boyfriend lifted his head up to take a look at your expression, worried that the pain of your sprained ankle might be too unbearable for you if he didn't handle it carefully enough.

“a little… but it's getting better…” you mumbled out softly, feeling increasingly guilty the longer you watched isagi kneel in front of you and tend to what you could only call the consequences of your own actions.

“we have a treadmill at home for a reason. why'd you insist on taking a run outside when the ground was still all slippery and wet?” isagi's voice was soft and gentle, soothing the guilt in your heart slightly.

you thought isagi would've gotten mad at you, but he was still as loving and worried for you as ever despite all of this being your own fault.

it had rained earlier this morning, which isagi had already warned you about via text since he was away for his usual soccer practice.

but stubborn little you insisted that the rain would not interfere with your routine evening jog. you figured the damp floors would have dried up by the time you stepped out of the house.

oh, how very wrong you were.

in your defence, majority of the jog went smoothly. the problem only arose when you were about to make the final turn back to the familiar stretch of road that would lead back to your and isagi's shared apartment.

for some reason while you were turning the corner, your foot slipped. as an attempt to catch yourself before you fell face first into the cold hard concrete, your ankle twisted and ended up in an uncomfortable position.

you had to bite your tongue to hold yourself back from screaming due to the sudden sharp and piercing pain coming from your ankle.

when you finally managed to limp your way back to your front porch, you figured you could simply just eat some painkillers and sleep off the pain before your boyfriend got back from training.

but to your absolute horror and misfortune, the moment you opened the front door, you caught sight of your beloved boyfriend walking out from the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand.

the moment isagi saw you limping back through the front door in your sports attire, he immediately placed his cup on the kitchen island and rushed to your side to support you as he brought you to the couch to sit down.

“yeah, well… i thought the ground would've mostly dried up by the time i went out for my jog.” you gave isagi a sheepish and apologetic smile.

“well too bad, you thought wrong. and now look who's the one with a sprained ankle, hmm?” isagi continued to tease you with a soft chuckle, finally removing the ice pack from your inflamed ankle and placing the melted bag of gel down on the carpet.

“so? think you can stand up and walk on your own now?” isagi asked, lightly tracing circles on the bottom of your foot, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that got your foot to twitch and squirm in response.

seeing how your foot was flinching away from isagi's gentle touches, he merely smirked in amusement.

“not really, no.” you laughed, happy to keep things light-hearted despite the fact that you probably wouldn't be able to walk without support for the next few days.

but fret not. isagi was here to be your knight in shining armour, like how he always had been ever since you both started dating.

“do i need to push you around in a wheelchair like those elderly couples?” isagi joked, scooting himself closer to the side of the couch to get closer to you whilst he was still squatting down on the ground.

“well yeah, obviously. you don't expect me to roll around on the floor, do you?” you playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, watching as he reached out to grasp your hand in his.

his thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, making you sigh out in satisfaction at how lucky you were to have isagi yoichi as your boyfriend.

a smile graced his lips. not the kind of smile he had whenever he scored a goal, or the kind of smile he gave to his teammates and friends. it was a smile that was solely reserved only for you.

isagi reached his other hand out to caress your cheek, lightly pinching it as a way to show his absolute affection and devotion towards you.

“don't worry. i’ll be the one to push your wheelchair. be it right now, or 60 years down the road.”

you never knew the words that left his lips would take you back to the days where you were falling head over heels for isagi yoichi all over again, but it did.

it had been months since you last felt your heart beat so rapidly against your chest and that queasy feeling of butterflies in your tummy.

those words may seem simple at first glance, but when you analyze it beneath the surface level, it held so much more meaning.

isagi was making a vow to you, promising to stay by your side through thick and thin. even when your youth was nothing but a distant memory, he would still choose you.

he wanted to spend his entire life with you, even if it meant he would have to be pushing your wheelchair around when you were all old and wrinkly.

those words were isagi's true feelings for you,

and they have never left your mind ever since the day he said them to you. not that isagi would ever give you a chance to forget about them in the first place.

ᯓ★ bachira meguru ᝰ.ᐟ

“i’ve cut up some fruit!”

your boyfriend’s lively voice from the kitchen reached your ears as you sat in the living room couch, busily typing away on your laptop.

you resisted the urge to turn away from your laptop screen to reply to your boyfriend, instead choosing to continue typing away on your essay that was due today.

seeing as you did not reply, bachira held the bowl of fruits in his hand as he made his way towards you, who was so diligently working on your assignments.

“do you want some?” the happy boy leaned his face right in front of yours with a cheeky grin, knowing that his actions would get a reaction out of you, who had been ignoring him the past few hours or so.

and rightfully so— you knew better than anyone that if you were to shower bachira with even an ounce of affection, you would never be able to direct your focus back on the task at hand.

“mmm… i’ll eat it later. you can munch on some first.” you suggested absentmindedly, gently using your hand to push bachira’s face away out of your view so that you could focus on the half finished word document displayed on your laptop screen.

well, that did not work according to bachira’s plan.

seeing how you had been paying all your attention on your laptop for the past few hours made bachira a little (very) attention-starved. dating him was equivalent to having a golden retriever as a pet; both of them were very high maintenance beings.

bachira pouted at your dismissive attitude right now, but he understood that you really needed to finish this assignment before the clock struck midnight.

however, as unfortunate as it sounded, today was also one of the rare days where bachira’s training ended early and he was able to spend some proper quality time with you.

bachira let out a dissatisfied hum, the pout still on his lips as he contemplated what to do in order to achieve the goal of the day.

which was to gain your attention.

he looked back down into the fruit bowl he had prepared for the both of you to share, and it did not take long for the pout of his to turn into a mischievous smirk.

it took you a few moments longer than usual to realise bachira had fallen awfully silent. normally, he would not even give you an ounce of quiet, rambling on and on about anything and everything he could talk about to fill in the silence. yet you hadn’t heard him say anything after you told him to eat first.

it was your fault for not figuring out soon enough that whenever bachira fell silent, he was plotting something in his head.

because before you could even save the progress of your half-written essay to turn and look at your boyfriend, a piece of watermelon poked into a metal fork entered your line of sight, successfully enticing you.

blinking in surprise, you instinctively turned your head to look at the culprit with a raised eyebrow.

“meguru-”

“say ‘ahh’!” bachira knew you all too well, and so he cut you off before you could question what he was trying to do. “you do your report, and i feed you. how does that sound, gorgeous?” bachira added, nearing the fork of watermelon closer to your lips.

he gave you no chance to decline his offer, if you could even count it as that.

“...ahh…” eventually giving in to your boyfriend, you slowly parted your lips and took the watermelon in between your teeth, chewing down on the juicy fruit.

“how is it? does it taste sweet?” bachira asked with a wide and bright smile, wiping the watermelon juice that splattered on the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.

you tried to hide how fast your heart was beating at the simple gesture. but seeing as how bachira started grinning from ear to ear, it didn't take a genius to know that he already noticed your rosy red cheeks.

“tastes yummy.” you remarked with a soft chuckle, turning your attention back to your laptop and typing away on your report. you were trying your best to ignore the loud thumping in your chest.

normally, bachira would have been more clingy and persistent about you paying attention to him, but today he acknowledged that this report was very important to you and played a huge part in your final grade.

thus, he chose to obediently sit by your side for moral support and feed you fruit as you worked away on finishing up your essay.

“mmm, you’re right, it is yummy!” your boyfriend agreed, popping a slice of watermelon in his mouth and chewing down on it. he kept this up, feeding you a piece of fruit and gently wiping away the juice on the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb before he fed himself a piece of fruit.

after a few minutes, it had finally come down to the very last slice of apple. bachira poked the apple with the metal fork, obviously planning to give you the last fruit in the bowl.

however, bachira’s mind was ever-functioning, and he managed to come up with yet another cheeky plan to surprise you.

“mind looking over for a second, gorgeous?” he called out to you with an innocent smile, waiting for you to stumble into his little trap.

“hmm? hold on.” you quickly typed out the last few words to finish up the sentence in your paragraph before finally turning to look at your boyfriend.

“yeah–?”

in a blink of an eye, bachira placed one end of the apple on your lips before placing the other end of the apple on his lips.

“what is this? the pocky challenge but with apples?” you joked, deciding to play along with bachira’s antics this time. you had ignored him for long enough, he deserved to get some affection from you. especially since he had been doing nothing but quietly sitting by your side and feeding you fruits.

“it’s a reward for working so hard.” bachira then took a big bite of the apple from his end. you followed suit until there was only a tiny chunk separating both your lips from each other.

“may i?” his whisper sounded almost pleading— he had restrained himself from clinging onto you as you worked on your assignment. but now that you were finally giving him your full attention, the boy was yearning for more.

“you may.” you reassured with a slight nod of your head, encouraging bachira to make the final move.

in which he did, biting down the last chunk of the apple before pressing his lips against yours.

it felt wonderful to have your lips moulded against his after being deprived from his affections for so long due to focusing on your essay. you chucked your laptop to the side of the couch, your arms snaking around his waist to make the kiss last longer.

perhaps a small break wouldn’t hurt...

ᯓ★ kunigami rensuke ᝰ.ᐟ

“oooh, what's going on there?”

the curiosity in you was building up when you noticed a crowd gathering just a distance away from the pathway kunigami and yourself were walking on.

as you pointed your index finger towards the crowd, kunigami turned his head to look in that direction before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“wanna go check it out?” he offered with a soft smile on his lips. you both had nothing important going on right now anyways. the two of you were just walking around the streets aimlessly and doing some window shopping to pass some time before you both would head for dinner.

“yeah!”

the way you chirped out happily in response, your eyes sparkling with excitement made kunigami's heart tighten with a certain fondness he couldn't exactly put into words.

before kunigami knew it, you were dragging him towards the crowd of people to see what all the commotion was about.

when the two of you were close enough, kunigami easily saw past the sea of crowd and his eyes eventually landed on a stage that was being setup with speakers and instruments, along with what seemed to be an amateur band preparing to perform.

“seems like it's a band performance. you interested to watch?” kunigami asked you. he had to raise his voice a little to beat the crowd’s volume, his eyes trailing back to look down at you.

oh.

your boyfriend was met with the sight of you standing on your tippy toes doing little subtle hops on the spot, trying to move your neck around to glance past the back of everyone’s heads, but unfortunately to no avail. you two were considered to be rather far back in the crowd, and everyone had a height advantage against you too.

sometimes kunigami would forget how short you were, or rather how tall he was as compared to you. things that he could easily do such as watching a performance at the back of a crowd was deemed as a challenge for his tiny and petite girlfriend.

kunigami was having an internal conflict with his inner voice on whether he should just push through the crowd so the both of you could make it to the very front of the stage (but also proceed to have a bunch of people glare at the two of you throughout the whole performance).

kunigami was the number one fan of everything being fair and square. and as much as he found the situation unfair for you, he also understood that it would be unfair to literally everyone else if he just rudely pushed through the crowd to get to the very front solely for your sake.

it wasn’t that kunigami would not do anything for you, he would give up anything and everything for you. but in situations like these where the universe was giving him a test on whether he should side with his morals or your happiness, he found himself stuck in the middle.

eventually, you turned to look up at your boyfriend, your soft lips jutting out to form a pout.

“rensuke, i can't see.” that sweet voice of yours would've sent kunigami into a deep trance if he was a weak-willed man.

the man pursed his lips together, desperately digging his brain for any ideas on how to ensure you got to see the performance without making the rest of the audience mad.

then, it was like something clicked in his head. like as if a tiny mouse living in his noggin just attached the two correct wires together and allowed kunigami’s brain to come up with the perfect solution that will make you happy and stick to his morals of ensuring everything was fair and square.

moving his hand down to ruffle your hair affectionately, kunigami then proceeded to crouch down in front of you, his back now facing towards you.

the action made you stunned into place, staring at kunigami’s toned back in disbelief and confusion. “rensuke?” you called out, prompting him to provide some sort of explanation for his action.

“i’ll piggyback you. that way, you'll be able to see the performance, right?” kunigami asked, trying his very hardest to sound as calm as he could. he would die if you saw through just how flustered he was feeling at the moment.

kunigami was often deemed as a scary delinquent due to his built figure in addition to his height being a whopping 6’2, but only a rare few properly understood that he was nothing but a life-sized teddy bear.

and you were the only one that would ever get this special treatment from him.

when kunigami felt your plush thighs press against his neck and shoulders, he grabbed onto your lower calves to ensure you were steady on his back before he slowly stood up to his full height again.

“can you see the stage?” kunigami asked you with a small smile on his face. he could feel many pairs of eyes looking towards the two of you, but he couldn't blame them. he was the only one among the crowd that was carrying a girl on his shoulders.

although you were not used to the stares accompanied by a couple of girls gushing over how cute your boyfriend was to be openly carrying his girlfriend on his shoulders, you were filled with a sense of pride when hearing people whisper about what a good boyfriend kunigami was.

“i can see the world.” you joked, but you sounded amazed by the view. it was your first time getting such a clear view of everything you desired like it was a piece of cake.

“is this how it feels to view the world through your eyes, rensuke?” a soft giggle slipped through those soft lips of yours as you hugged your legs tighter around his neck to ensure that you would not fall off (but also making sure not to accidentally suffocate him in the process too).

“perhaps. but i wish you could see what i see whenever i look at you.” kunigami responded with a playful grin.

your heart skipped a beat at his words, suddenly feeling all giddy and floaty on the inside.

oh, how lucky you were to call this man yours.

ᯓ★ itoshi rin ᝰ.ᐟ

the familiar sound of the front door being opened was accompanied by your boyfriend's monotonous voice.

the words that escaped his mouth seemed habitual and subconscious, and you wouldn't doubt that he would still say the same exact thing even if you weren't around to receive his greeting.

“i'm home.”

you immediately sat up from the couch with a smile, turning to glance at your boyfriend so that you could return his greeting.

“welcome home, rin!” your enthusiastic response was something rin could never dream of getting tired of. no matter how many times this scene unfolded in front of him, it never failed to warm that stone-cold heart of his.

it just seemed to fulfill that hidden desire of his to finally feel loved and be appreciated by someone.

but of course, he would rather take this little secret of his down to the grave with him than ever letting you know about it.

“thanks.” rin responded, trying to seem nonchalant about your response. he had barely given a reaction to it for the past year, so why should he now?

“oh, what's that? did someone give you a gift for winning your game today?” rin used the back of his foot to gently kick the door shut behind him as you spoke, pointing at the basket in his hands out of curiosity.

“no, i bought these.” rin rolled his eyes at you. what made you think he would be accepting gifts from anyone other than his girlfriend? he wasn't that much of a sucker for attention from other girls.

before you could follow up with a second question on what was in the basket that looked to be stuffed to the brim with items, rin walked towards you and shoved the basket right in your face.

looking at rin with a raised eyebrow, you held the basket with both your hands and took a look in it, wondering what could rin possibly have bought for the basket to be looking so full yet barely having any weight to it.

inside, there were tampons and pads arranged neatly on the left side of the basket. it was plenty to last you for the next three to four months or so. and the right side was stuffed to the brim with chocolates and sweets that you remembered mentioning to rin about them being your favourite.

and if that wasn't jaw dropping enough, there was also a cute little teddy bear in the basket, staring right back at you with its cute little beady eyes and a cartoon smile.

“you're going to attract flies into your mouth. close up.” rin commented, scoffing in amusement at your reaction to his small gesture. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to remain as indifferent as he could.

but if you took a closer look at him, you would realise that the tips of his ears held a faint red hue to them.

“but rin… what's this for? my period isn't even here yet.” you looked up at him with your stupidly wide eyes that could compare to a puppy's. seriously, sometimes rin wondered how you looked more like a dog than a human.

“yeah, but it's in two days, is it not?” that was a rhetorical question.

it wasn't that rin was genuinely asking whether your period was coming in two days, he knew. he was just telling you in a way that would make him feel like he held the upper hand against you, especially when it came to your own body.

he just wanted to challenge you to prove him wrong, as he always did. his confidence was always sky high— but rightfully so (in his opinion).

you blinked in surprise, grabbing your phone and unlocking it to check your period tracker. you had been losing track of time due to how busy you were that you hadn't even realised that rin was right. your period was coming in two days.

“how'd you know that?” you asked him back, seeming shocked that rin bothered to remember your monthly shark week. you were convinced he barely cared about dates that were not as important to him like anniversaries and your birthday.

“you think you're the only one with a period tracker app? i have it too.” rin answered, sounding as calm and nonchalant as he always did.

come on, it wouldn't hurt for him to show even an ounce of emotion. it was already so painfully obvious how much he loved and cared for you, it wouldn't bring any harm to be nice to you every now and then, would it?

“you're such a creep.” you tried to tease him in a serious tone, biting back the smile that threatened to show on your face. you were trying to get him to show his rare soft side.

but rin was one step ahead of you. he knew you better than the back of his hand, and he didn't hesitate to tease you back.

“i’ll take it as you don't want my gift then. might as well give it to another girl who'll appreciate it more than this ungrateful brat.” as if to entice even more of a reaction out of you, rin slowly edged his hand closer to the basket, threatening to take it away from you.

“what?! no! don't you dare!” you gasped, immediately hugging the basket protectively like it was your newborn baby.

that was exactly the reaction rin wanted out of you.

his cold facade was unable to further resist your cuteness and started to crumbled as a faint smirk ghosted his lips.

his hand that was once edging towards your basket (technically his, since he was the one that paid for everything) moved towards the top of your head to ruffle your hair.

silence filled the room, and you looked up at rin patiently with an anticipating smile on your face, waiting for him to finally say the words he had been holding back all this while.

“ i... i love you.” he eventually whispered out with a defeated sigh, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “don't ever forget that, ‘kay?”

rin knew he was bad at expressing his emotions. but he wanted to make sure to remind you from time to time that his feelings for you would never change. not now, not ever.

ᯓ★ michael kaiser ᝰ.ᐟ

“come.” kaiser patted his lap, a coy smirk on his lips as his sapphire eyes observed your figure standing by the bedroom door, not moving despite his command. “hurry up meine liebe, i don't have all day.”

those words were what finally made you obediently walk towards where kaiser was seated at; the chair just by the vanity table you both shared.

he rested his hand on the vanity table, rhythmically drumming his index finger on the surface of the table as his eyes remained fixated on you.

kaiser was a bold individual, and it was something you both hated and loved simultaneously.

he never tried to hide the fact how his eyes were always lingering on your body, staring at you like you were the next prey he wanted to devour.

even now, he watched intensely as your hips swayed from side to side while you walked across the bedroom to make your way towards him.

it was almost like you were strutting into the lion's den, volunteering to be his next meal.

and even as you finally lowered your hips and straddled his lap, kaiser didn't look away from you for even a second, the smirk on his face only growing more smug and cocky.

“you’re so cute, i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose to seduce me or not.” kaiser couldn't help but tease you, noting how your cheeks were rosy and the way you were trying to avoid his intense stare.

“quit it, mihya. didn't you say you were in a hurry?” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. it left you all weak and flustered, and you knew that kaiser took pleasure in seeing how he had the upper hand against you everytime.

you were nothing but a little mouse the lion planned to toy with for amusement before he eventually wolfed you down in his stomach.

“the emperor chooses his next move.” kaiser pointed his index finger at your cheek, slowly inching closer before gently giving you a little poke. “not you.”

despite his words, kaiser moved his hand away from your face to stop messing with you as he was not lying about being short of time.

his hand felt around the vanity table, before coming into contact with just the object he needed.

using his free arm to wrap around your waist to keep you steady in his lap, kaiser brought the eyeliner pen to his lips, using his teeth to bite the cover off before securing it on the back of the pen.

“be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm? i don't have time to redo it if you make me mess up.” typical of kaiser to push the blame onto you if he messed up. he was an egoist, thus his mistakes were never his. it was always someone else's.

he kept his hand steady as he moved the eyeliner closer to your face. once the tip of the red tinted pen was close enough to your skin, you closed your eyes so that kaiser could have an easier time applying it on you.

“you're so adorable for wanting to match with me, you know that meine liebe?” kaiser chuckled, using short and gentle strokes to draw the eyeliner onto your eyelids, just like how he would to himself every morning before he started his day. “you'll look gorgeous once i’m done with you, i promise.”

the room fell into a comfortable after kaiser's reassurance, as kaiser decided to direct his full focus on helping you apply the eyeliner. he didn't want to risk messing up.

afterall, he wouldn't have time to help you redraw it due to him having to rush to practice right after this.

you could feel goosebumps surfacing on your skin when you felt kaiser's hot breath hit your cheek. no doubt that he was intentionally leaning in closer to you just so he could get a reaction out of you, as he always did.

you could picture it in your head: his head tilted in an angle, his eyes squinted in concentration while gently drawing on your eyelids. it felt so comforting that you felt like you could fall asleep on his lap, but you resisted the urge to do so.

the sensation of kaiser stroking the eyeliner against your eyelids stopped, before the sound of him popping the cap back on the pen was heard.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. we're all done.” kaiser placed the eyeliner back in the drawer, his other arm still securely keeping you on his lap by holding your waist.

when you opened your eyes, kaiser's face was just inches away from yours. your eyes widened slightly at how close he was to you, trying to remain your composure.

the cocky smirk on his lips proved that he did this on purpose to entice a reaction out of you. before you could resist, your boyfriend leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“take a look in the mirror, liebe. don't you just look so beautiful?” kaiser whispered huskily in your ear, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger and guiding your face to turn towards the mirror on the vanity table.

you took a closer look at the reflection in front of you. you, sitting intimately on kaiser's lap whilst he had an arm slung around your waist and the both of you having matching red eyeliners. it looked…

“perfect.” you whispered it out loud without realising.

“oh? what was that?” kaiser leaned his ear closer to your mouth, taunting you to speak up so that he could hear you say it again, but louder.

“i said it looks perfect.” you replied without hesitation, and kaiser seemed satisfied by your obedience today. it was always a nice sight whenever you played along with his annoying and teasing nature.

“and you're perfect for me, liebe.” your boyfriend moved his hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the fat of it. “you don't understand how grateful i am to have you by my side.”

and you could just about say the same thing about him.

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olddirtybadfic · 2 years ago

Text

Holiday Half Arse: A Less-Than-Festive Fic (part one of two)

At some point, twelve!me decided to write a fic that took place during several holidays. The holidays barely got referenced (Jessie attacks James and Meowth on Thanksgiving and if you do the math, the kitten was probably conceived around Halloween), but I didn't skimp on the drama.

Content Warning: First-person mixed points-of-view; Pokémon/Human romantic relationship; mpreg; colorful language; absolute character assassination of Jessie (she's super violent towards Meowth and pregnant James); Jessie gets offensive about out-of-wedlock kittens; very shaky understanding of psychological issues; pregnancy is quite rough on James; Officer Jenny is repetitive

-O-o-O-o-O-

(James's point of view)

I fell onto the bed.

I just couldn't seem to close the button on my fly. I tried everything I could to get the button in the hole. I didn't know what was wrong because I wasn't fat. Usually my pants would be falling off.

I finally got the button into the hole. I went over to the mirror and started to brush my hair. I saw that it seemed to have grown quite a bit longer in a short amount of time. I wondered why.

I looked in the mirror at my reflection. Meowth always told me I was beautiful.

Meowth is my boyfriend. Yes, that's right. I'm a human with a Pokémon boyfriend.

Meowth came in the room.

"James?" he said to me.

I didn't really hear him.

"James?" he said again.

"What?" I said.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Breakfast is ready," Meowth said.

At breakfast, I ate more than usual. "Someone was hungry," Jessie said as I washed the dishes.

We spent the entire afternoon trying to make up plans to capture Pikachu. We couldn't really decide which one to use, but we did agree on one thing. No more pitfalls for a while.

I was suddenly exhausted, so I went into the bedroom to take a nap. I woke up two hours later. Meowth was sitting next to me, watching me sleep.

"Jessie tried to cook again. It didn't work. Now we need to know what topping you want on the pizza," Meowth said.

I was about to answer, but then I got the urge to run into the bathroom and vomit.

(Meowth's point of view)

I ran after James. I found him in tears kneeling on the floor, wiping his mouth.

"James, what's wrong?" I asked.

James took a while to calm down. "I….I….I'm…." was all he could get out.

"Take it easy," I said, patting his hair.

James took a breath. "I just keep throwing up. I don't what's wrong with me. What if it's serious?" he said.

I thought for a minute. "You've also been eating more."

James gave me a look.

"And you've been getting tired easily. And you've been pretty emotional, even more than usual."

James's look intensified.

"I'm saying you might be pregnant, Jimmy."

James was shocked. "I-I can't be," he said.

"Here, take this test."

I gave him a pregnancy test to pee on. He did it and a blue plus sign appeared on it.

James looked down at his stomach. "How did I not know?"

"You're probably not that far into it. Also Meowth kittens are a lot smaller than human babies, so you won't show as much," I said. "The kitten is probably already feisty."

James smiled. "I could've told you that part."

(James's point of view)

The good part of the experiment was Meowth and I would have a kitten.

The bad part was I'd be uncomfortable and not that attractive.

I was in bed often, so my hair was so messy, I looked like I had lice. It was just bad luck that my freckles from the sun hadn't gone away. They made my face look even more flushed than it already was. My eyes were getting swollen from sleeping. I also had dark circles under my eyes.

Here's the uncomfortable part. I had to throw up every five seconds in the morning and early afternoon. It felt like torture after I did. I was so weak I couldn't walk back and forth from one room to the other, so I fell asleep in the bathroom a lot. My cravings for food were driving me crazy.

And the kitten was kicking so hard, I felt like birthing it every time it kicked.

Every single thing bothered me.

Once, Jessie said, "That kitten will be out of wedlock." I screamed, "I don't care! That doesn't mean it doesn't deserve to live!"

"Touché," Jessie said.

I ran into the bathroom, crying. I heard Jessie and Meowth talking through the door.

"You didn't mean anything bad, did you?" Meowth was saying.

"If the kitten is born out of wedlock, it's a bastard kitten. That's just how it is," Jessie said.

"How could you say that? Or even want to say that to James? He never said anything about your Pokémon."

"The kitten isn't his Pokémon, Meowth. It's his child."

"So why you gonna dis it like that?"

"Don't talk back, you furball! Someone needs to tell James the truth and if you're too stupid to know it, I'll just have to tell him."

"I'll make sure you don't." Meowth's voice was cold.

"Is that a challenge?!" Jessie yelled. I heard a scream and Meowth crying.

I rushed out of the bathroom. Jessie had shoved Meowth against the wall. Meowth was in tears, wailing.

"Jessie, what are you doing?!" I screamed.

Jessie came over to me and started pushing me.

"This is our business. Don't butt in!" she yelled.

I saw Meowth staring at us, still crying.

I had to stand up to Jessie.

(Meowth's point of view)

Jessie pushed James into the bathroom.

"So, you want to make this your business?" Jessie said in a threatening tone of voice.

The door was open so I could see what was happening.

Jessie slapped James across his face. James started crying.

"Why did you beat up Meowth?!" he yelled.

"That is none of your business!" Jessie hit James again.

"Stop hitting him, bitch!" I screamed.

Jessie yelled, "Stay out of this, ass-cat!" She kicked the door shut.

I ran to the phone and called the mental institution.

"It's an emergency!" I screamed.

"Hey, calm down. What's wrong?" the person on the phone said.

"A maniac beat me up and is beating up my friend. I think she's trying to kill us."

"We'll be right over."

They got to our cabin fast. "Where is she?" one of them said.

"In the bathroom," I said.

The people opened the door. The bathroom was not a pretty sight. It was completely trashed. James was sitting against the wall, crying, while Jessie threatened and cursed at him, waving a wrench. I could see a few bruises on James.

"You interfere with me fucking up Meowth, you'll get fucked up, too, cunt!" she yelled.

"See? She's a psychopathical fuckass!" I screamed.

The people stared at me, looking surprised.

"Sorry. Excuse my language," I said.

They still stared.

"You're a talking Meowth?!" they said.

"Yes, but please arrest her!" I yelled.

The people dragged Jessie out of there in a straitjacket.

"I'll get you both even if it's the last thing I do! One day you bastards will get the ultimate fuck-up!" Jessie screamed.

"Is everything okay?" Officer Jenny asked.

I didn't hear because I was trying to get James out of the bathroom.

"James, she's gone. Please come out of there," I said.

"Is everything okay?" Officer Jenny asked again.

"I can't get James out of the bathroom. I just want to know if he knows everything is all right," I said.

Officer Jenny knocked on the door. "You can come out now."

James didn't come out. I could hear him sobbing and sniffling.

"Please come out, James. The mental institution got her and took her away. We're safe now," I said.

James opened the door a crack and peered out. He came out, picked me up, and hugged me.

"Attaboy," one of the people said.

"Is everything all right?" Officer Jenny asked.

"Everything is fine now," James said.

Later that evening at dinner, it was weird when I was setting the table and I only needed two place mats, two plates, two cups, two napkins, and two sets of silverware.

"What are we having for dinner?" I asked.

"Tuna," James said. James had been craving tuna all day.

When we sat down for dinner, James took out a bottle of chocolate sauce.

"What are you gonna do with that?" I asked.

"I'm going to put it on my portion," James said. I asked him to pass the bottle so I could try it, too.

After a while, James said, "It tastes okay, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "It's perfect. Right, Jess—oops, I forgot. Jessie isn't here."

"I'm going to miss her even if she did abuse me." James had tears in his eyes.

"At least our kitten is safe," I said.

"Yeah. That's one thing to be thankful for," James said.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: Officer Jenny is ineffective in domestic abuse cases (at least in whatever AU this takes place in).

#pokemon fanfiction #fanfic #james team rocket #meowth team rocket #jessie team rocket #blueshipping #james x meowth #mpreg #interspecies romance #dark fic #tw whump #tw violence #tw abuse #old fic

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