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agustdef · 3 years

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A Calm Day

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader.

Genre: Fluff; Slice of Life; Established Relationship.

Word Count: 1.9k.

Warning: None.

Rating: PG.

Beta Reader: @suhdays read it over and reassured me it was cute.

A/N: This is a late birthday present for the sweetest of beans aka @hobeemin. I wish I could have made something better, but also who would like a nice day with the dork known as Doyoung. I already told you happy birthday, but again I hope that you had a great days and every birthday to come is also great.

Saturdays were a time for going out and enjoying yourself. For attending brunch, get togethers, parties, or even going on adventures. Or at least that was what YN was all about when she was in college and the few years that came after. The version of her that had a demanding job and a somewhat active social circle deemed Saturdays a day of rest. Sunday could have all the fun, but the day after a work week was for her to unwind.

Well, her and her fiancé who seemed to fail to remember what the word relaxation meant.

Which was why on the Saturday morning - more like early afternoon - after a particularly tough week she expected to wake up in bed alone. However, she opened her eyes to find Doyoung knocked out of the bed next to her. It surprised her, even more so because he looked like he was still within a deep sleep and not just lying there trying to sleep.

A smile formed on YN’s lips seeing him like that. The dork tended to work too hard and then not give himself time to recuperate. It was a constant point of issue between the two of them. But when he did take the time to relax it was beautiful. She found him handsome every second of the day, but resting Doyoung was just so beautiful. And he was peaceful to watch, though she tried not to be a creep about it.

Doyoung would never let her live it down if he caught her and she was not about to play that game with him.

So, after a few seconds of staring at his face in the sunlight she closed her own eyes and let sleep claim her again. She needed it.

When she woke up again though, the bed was empty and the clock told her she’d slept in past one. Sleep clung to her saying she could stay in bed longer, but she knew that she’d had enough and despite the goal of chilling that day she didn’t want to sleep it away.

Which meant that she forced herself up and out of the bed, swaying a bit as she tried to wake up enough to not faceplant the first step she took. It took several seconds and so blurred vision, but she pulled it together, but before she could fully lift her foot the door to the bathroom swung open and out came Doyoung.

He was shocked to see her, but a smile took over his face rather quickly.

“I was just going to come and wake you up,” he said.

YN narrowed her eyes and scanned over his features, noting the clothing that he was wearing carefully.

“What so you can make me go on a run?” she asked, though it was more like an accusation.

At that the smile on Doyoung’s face dropped and he rolled his eyes. The sassiness that was a large part of his personality always came out at the drop of the hat.

“No. I’m allowed to wear basketball shorts and this shirt without going to work out. I ran you a bath.”

There was still something suspicious about it all, but after a few seconds YN stop looking at him sideways and instead smiled.

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest,” she said as she approached him, reaching up to pinch his cheek as she did it.

Of course, there was more eye rolling, but Doyoung smiled at her again. Then he leaned forward to place a kiss to her lips. It was gentle and warm, which somehow made her feel both calmer and much more awake. She enjoyed that feeling and pouted the moment he pulled away.

That was funny to Doyoung though and instead of giving her another kiss to stop the pouting he merely grabbed her hand and led her into the bathroom. There she found the aromatherapy machine going and a bath bomb dissolving into the water creating a nice lilac hue. It was one that she’d run out of a month before and kept forgetting to go buy more of. She’d mentioned in two days before when she wanted to take a bath but didn’t have it on hand, running her plans.

And that’s all it took to stop the pouting and start the heart eyes. Doyoung liked to pretend he was more standoffish than he was, but he was one of the sweetest people that YN knew. He always paid attention to what she said and with the week she’d been having, he must have known how much she needed even something as minor as her favorite bath bomb.

Doyoung had to have seen the way her lips parted to say something, because before she could get all soft on him he was talking.

“You can relax here for a while. But you have about forty-five minutes to get ready. We’re going out, so wear something comfortable and relaxed.”

Then before she could process that he was out of the bathroom.

Part of her wanted to call him back and ask what he meant or give him the small praise she’d been prepared to say, but she knew better than to ask his plans for them. Plus, the moment she looked back at the tub the ache her body felt hit and she wanted nothing more to sit in the scalding water. So, that’s what she did.

The moment she stepped in after stripping her body begged her to leave because of how hot it was, but she merely waited a second for it to adjust at her feet and submerged all but her head. More warning bells went off, but they left her seconds later and she felt herself become one with the water. The smell and feel of the lavender bath bomb melting away her pain almost instantly.

Everything just felt better in a bath where she didn’t have to focus on anything but herself. Not that she really did that since she practically drifted off in there and didn’t snap out of it until the water got a little too cool about thirty minutes later. She felt like a prune, but it was fine because she felt so good.

After she checked the time on the clock in the bathroom she got out, drained the tub, and hopped into the shower so that she could clean herself. From there it was quick work to get skincare done and herself moisturized and dressed.

As she pulled on her second sock Doyoung entered their bedroom looking ready to rush her only to stop when he saw her basically ready. All she needed to do was throw her hair in a ponytail, which was easy enough since she’d gotten faux locs two weeks before and they were lived in enough that she could style them any which way.

With her ready to go she and Doyoung left the house without much of a word to each other. Doyoung seemed in a rush so she didn’t want to slow him down by asking a million questions, however the moment he got them onto the highway she turned to him with a raised brow.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

“Where is somewhere?”

“A place.”

“What kind of place?”

“A place I want to take you.”

“A place where you want to take me to murder me?”

Though he’d maintained a straight face through her little questioning the last question caused him to groan and glare at her. She knew that he wasn’t planning to murder her and that he wanted it to be a surprise, but once she got into the groove of the back and forth it was hard for her to stop herself. That wasn’t new though, so though Doyoung was mildly annoyed with her antics he brushed it off rather easily.

“Keep it up and yes it will be where I murder you,” he mumbled.

That response elicited a laugh from YN, the kind where you threw your head back and smiled too hard. Something that only made Doyoung a little fed up with her, though she swore she saw him smile a little at it.

From there they just enjoyed the ride with a soft pop music playing as they went. YN watched the scenery change from building to forest and then back. And the next thing she knew they were pulling into the smaller parking lot near their favorite spot to relax near the Han River.

The location was a bit shocking, but she went along with it and didn’t pester the poor man anymore. Though that became hard as they got out of the car and he pulled a picnic basket out of the trunk. What they were doing was clear, but still so many questions entered her head that she just didn’t voice.

Once Doyoung had the basket he took hold of her hand and led her out closer to the river. They walked a few minutes before they reached a spot under a tree that they both liked. Thankfully, no one was under it or around the area, so they had a little privacy.

Happy with their spot Doyoung quickly unpacked the basket, swatting away YN’s hands any time she tried to help him out. Though that didn’t fully stop her and eventually he moved so quickly that she didn’t even have the chance to intervene at all.

“Sit,” he said once he finished.

That made YN narrow her eyes and tilt her head at him. For a moment he did the same before sighing and plopping onto the blanket he’d laid out.

“Please sit with me.”

With the rephrasing she plopped down next to him and took in what he’d brought for them to enjoy. It was a mix of all their favorite portable foods. Some sandwiches, kimbap, fruits, drinks, and part of their convenience store snack stash.

“I thought that we could spend the afternoon like this. We haven’t had the time to in a while, so it seemed to be a good idea. Especially before dinner with my sister, tonight” Doyoung said.

Hearing that warmed YN a great deal because it was thoughtful. She hadn’t complained about the lack of time spent together, but it had been something that popped into her mind a time or too. And knowing how Doyoung and his sister got along it was going to be stressful and there definitely need to be some dumping of stress before and after that dinner.

Though he also probably wanted brownie points for later because nine point nine times out of ten Doyoung was the reason things with his sister went awry and YN had to get on his case about it. But she didn’t think about that too long, just leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek before picking up a sandwich to eat.

Doyoung returned the favor and then joined her eating. Neither had had anything all day so they were beyond hungry and scarfed down half of the provisions within minutes. Not that either cared about the slobbish way they ate anyway. Food in their stomachs was the end goal.

Upon finishing their breakfast slash lunch, they both laid back on the blanket and stared at the sky.

“Did you finish that book you were reading?” Doyoung asked.

“Yeah. It was okay.”

“Can I borrow it? Looked like something I’d like.”

“Sure, but you have to let me borrow yours.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah, that one from a few weeks back.”

“Ooh. Yeah, that one was…”

The moment books were mentioned they both kind of spiraled down that path, discussing ones they’d read before and recommending others they thought the other might like.

Overall, it was a pretty chill day but that was all that YN could ever ask for. Sometimes you didn’t need more than company and calm conversation. Sometimes it was the thing that did the most for the soul.

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heximagines · 3 years

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A little fluffy smut for my fav, Severen.

CW for mild mentions of blood and afab reader smut.

You groan in satisfaction as you collapse onto the motel room bed after yanking the blackout curtains closed. Daylight would be breaking at any minute now and you had no interest in anything to do with that these days. Your eyes want nothing more than to drop shut and pull you into a deep sleep but they’re drawn to the small kitchenette at the sound of the gas stove clicking to life. Your boyfriend leans down to light the cigarette that dangles loosely from his plush lips, still bloodstained with his last meal. He takes a long drag before finally stripping off his leather and draping it over a chair. You whine in the back of your throat and reach your arms out for him. Severen chuckles lowly before making his way over to you. He leans down, careful not to catch you with the burning cherry of the cigarette, and presses a kiss to your lips. Your eyes fall shut and you moan softly, fingers reaching up to tangle in dark locks. The tobacco mixes with the metallic tang of blood, something you’ve become accustomed to. Unable to help himself Severen trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck as well before gently nipping at the thin skin of your throat. You giggle and push him back a little. “Sev! Aren’t you full?” He leans back up and ashes on the floor before taking another long drag. “Never too full for desert, darlin’.” You kick him playfully in the leg before sitting up to grab your duffel bag from the edge of the bed. “Quit sweet talkin‘ and go get cleaned up. You’re filthy.” Severen balks at you before looking down at his stained shirt. You strip off your own shirt and pants before digging through your bag for something comfier to sleep in. As you look you can feel Severen’s eyes burning into you. He prematurely puts his cigarette out before coming to pull you away from your bag, hands firmly on your hips. “C’mere, I’ll show you filthy.” You could feel the blood from his shirt transfer onto your skin as he presses his chest to your back, the feeling makes goosebumps erupt across your shoulders and down your arms. Slowly Severen’s hands move up your sides coming to squeeze at your breasts. You lean your head back to rest on his shoulder and scrape your own blunt teeth along his jaw playfully. “Mmh, very cute baby. Ya know if you just say the word you can have nice fangs like mine.” He flashes you his enthralling smile and you melted further against him. “Sev...” Your voice was just a whisper but it sent shivers down his spine. “My darlin’, my baby doll, my honey.” He punctuated each sweet nickname with little smooches to your shoulder. “No pressure. I love you just like this... And I’ll keep you safe no matter what.” You turn to face him, further smearing thick blood across your torso, and throw your arms around his neck pulling him down and nipping at his bottom lip. “You’re so sweet to me. How could I get so lucky?” With no effort at all Severen lifts you up off the ground, both of his hands firmly on your ass. Without much prompting you wrap your legs around his waist and tightened your hold around his neck and let him carry you off to the bathroom.

The lights are a harsh fluorescent that you’re sure make you look awful but Severen does’t seem to mind as he sets you down on the side of the sink. He turns to the shower and cranks the knob to hot before sticking his hand under the stream. He scowls as it comes out icy cold. Instead he turns his attention back to you. He lets his hands find the clasp of your bra snapping it open effortlessly and discards the lacy black garment on the floor. He gladly gropes your breasts again and kisses his way down your chest, pausing to lick up the blood he’d smeared on you earlier. Finally he laves his tongue over your nipple. You gasp out a quiet moan and pull him in closer. “Fuck Severen.” He drops to his knees in an instant like your words were a command and slides your underwear down your legs, discarding them beside your bra. “Ooh baby, you are so damn fine,” he growls out before attacking your inner thighs with tongue and teeth. He leaves hickeys anywhere he can reach just teasing you until you whine. “Please Severen.” And it’s just that easy to break him. He clutches your thighs in his strong hands before fully burying his face in between them. His tongue laves up the slit of your wet cunt savoring your taste on his tongue. You think he says something but the words are muffled. You thread your fingers through his messy hair and press his head forward. “Enough talking babe, put that pretty mouth to good use for me.” He chuckles before circling his skilled tongue around your clit making your back arch. “Mmh, fuck...” Severen’s tongue is relentless as his hand trails it’s way down to his belt. His cock is achingly hard and he needs just a bit of relief. He rips his belt open and fumbles with his pants but his tongue doesn’t falter for a second sending ripples of pleasure though your trembling body and making you grip the edge of the sink so hard your knuckles turn white. It never takes long for him to bring you to the edge but that didn’t mean he was ready to let you finish quite yet. Just as you feel yourself hitting your peak he pulls away, leaving you shivering. “C’mon don’t tease me now.” Severen gets back to his feet and begins to strip off his own clothing. “Don’t you worry, baby doll. I’m not gonna leave you beggin’, but if we want a warm shower we gotta get in now.” The room is finally filled with steam and you become aware of the way the heavy wet air clung to your skin. You reach out to press a hand to your lover’s chest, letting your nails scrape down the grooves and planes of his abdomen. “C’mere gorgeous.” He grabbed your wrist halting your downward stroke and pulling you off the sink and against his chest.

Severen couldn’t get you under the spray of the shower quick enough. The water at your feet runs pink and you can’t help but stare down at it. You thought you’d get used to all of the gore but even after all these months it still made your skin prickle uncomfortably. You suppose it’s just instinct, it’d take a long time for it to stop bothering you. You aren’t left with much time to linger on it before Severen is pressing your chest against the shower wall. He grabs your hands and pins them on either side of your head, leaving you vulnerable, just how he likes you. “Just like that hon, be good for me.” He presses a kiss to your temple before pulling back. He keeps your lower back in place with a firm hand and his other grabs your hip and pulls it back towards him, forcing you into an arch. “Perfect,” he purrs. His thick fingers slide between your legs, brushing teasingly over your slit on their way back to your clit. You let your forehead rest against the wall and release a shaky sigh. Severen rubs quick unrelenting circles around the sensitive bud while his other hand strokes his throbbing dick. “Honey I’ve been waiting all damn night to have you like this,” his voice is thick with lust and admiration. You roll your hips teasingly, “Then come and get me.” The thin strand of patience Severen had been clinging to finally snaps and he’s on you in an instant. His teeth sink harshly into your shoulder, just short of breaking the skin, and his cock is buried deep inside of your clenching pussy. You can’t even think to stop the pathetic whines and moans that spill from your lips as your boyfriend grips your hips and pounds into you at a brutal pace. You can feel his chest rumbling with laughter and you can’t help but find it infectious. Sev buries his face in your hair and keeps chucking while you giggle back at him. Neither of you knows why you’re laughing, maybe from relief or just because the other is, but Severen’s hips don’t halt for even a second. You love it when he’s like this, frenzied and feral, so desperate for you he can barely control himself. Which if you were being honest was most of the time. But in the moments where you two were alone it meant so much more. For just a painstaking second Severen pulls out and spins you around, hoisting you up by your thighs. When he presses back into you you throw your head back and nearly scream with pleasure. “That’s it baby doll, let me hear you.” He sucks and bites harshly along your collar bones leaving harsh red marks in the wake of his mouth. Your thighs shudder and jerk around Severen’s waist as you’re once again pulled to the edge. You could feel his own movements losing rhythm, becoming clumsy and sloppy but just as persistent. He cups your face and presses your forehead to his. “I love you. Fuck I love you,” your voice wavers as your pleasure builds and tightens your stomach. Severen tries to answer but when the words won’t come out he instead presses his lips to yours in a feverish kiss. It only takes a few more harsh thrusts to send you over the edge your legs seizing and insides constricting. Your moan spills out around the edges of where your lips meet Sev’s. His dull nails dig into the meat of your thighs as you milk him through his own orgasm only seconds after your own.

Severen keeps you pressed into the wall, hips still jerking with aftershocks as you both try to regain your breath. Your forehead drops back down to his shoulder and another light laugh escapes your tired lugs. His hand rests at the top of your neck and he tenderly kisses your head before setting you down on your shaky legs. “Don’t fall over on me now,” he grins down at you. “No problem, just don’t let go of me.” You look up and grin back. “Let go of you? Never.” He squeezes you tightly and hums in contentment, closing his eyes, finally feeling tired and satisfied.

#I'm so convinced that Sev would call his s/o by so many cute little names #I hope yall like this I simp for this man.#severen #near dark #near dark severen #severen x reader #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #vampire x reader #complete

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reelwriter19 · 4 years

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A Better Man

Pairings: Erik Stevens X Black Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Implied smut, cursing

Word Count: 3241

“Sssshhh...Erik you have to stop yelling.” You pleaded with your husband as you struggled to get his oversized drunken frame through the front door.

Slurring every word, “Y/N, I DON’T CARE! These colonizers know who’s buildin’ this is!”

You shook your head and couldn’t help but smirk as Erik kicked his boots off and planted himself on the floor in the hallway like a toddler. It was LATE and you were exhausted, but you gave him a pass on this f**k boi behavior because his 35th birthday was in a few days and even though he’d never admit it, that number was messing with his head. So when the owner of the lounge called you personally to come pick him up at 1:45AM, you threw on a sweater, grabbed your keys and ran out the door.

Erik looked up from his stooper just in time to catch you undoing your bra in annoyance. “YES!!! My girls need to be free!”

“Wow…..goodnight Mr. Stevens.” Shaking your head as you walked away, he seemed to find his sea legs long enough to scurry after you, wrapping his arms around your middle and slowly creeping his hands up to ‘the girls’.

“Come on ma, let me hit. You know I sleep better after.”

His touch in this moment was making you weak, but as you turned your head to permit him a kiss, you were hit with a heavy dose of reality. Erik hadn’t drunk this heavily in a while, and the evidence of it was seeping through his pores and breath in the worst way. You turned to face him, now keeping him at arm's length.

“UGH...nigga let you hit?! I love you, but the last time we tried to have sex when you were this drunk, you fell asleep in me, during said process. Uh huh...nope, not tonight. The girls will be all yours tomorrow.”

The next morning you awoke to find Erik still fully clothed, knocked and snoring on the chaise lounge in your walk-in closet. He still smelled, but you were grateful for the fact that he wasn’t too drunk to remember how you felt about outside clothes on the bed. You kissed him on his forehead, got dressed and started making calls. You were throwing him a birthday party that night at the house. You had to confirm food drop offs with the caterers, pick up some balloons and grab one final gift to surprise him with the next day. His training made him really hard to surprise, but you knew he wouldn’t be expecting this.

You heard the shower turn off as you walked back into the house from your excursion. “Erik!” You hollered putting bags and what seemed like 100 balloons in a corner, making your way upstairs to the bedroom. “Kia and Shuri will be here in a few hours to help me set up. I’m gonna need you out of here soo…”

Your words trailed off as your ebony Adonis emerged from the bathroom, towel low on his hips, scars glistening on his chest. He knew his power over you and now you were the one intoxicated. He raised an eyebrow as he slinked over to you ever so slowly, you, still frozen, allowing him access to begin undressing you without much of a fight.

“You were sayin’ somethin’?”

“Baby...I have so much to get done for the party.”

“I remember you saying that these right here were all...mine...today.” He started to pepper kisses across your chest and conveniently dropped his towel to the floor. Every task on your list quickly faded into the background. He was the soon to be birthday boy afterall. Who were you to deny him this gift?

-------

The house was filled with laughter and music. You sat on Erik’s lap with his arm wrapped snug around your waist as he and some of his boys laughed about stories from their days at MIT. You knew the majority of the people there, Erik always kept a tight circle. But there was one guy, Malik, from his days in foster care that he recently reconnected with that hadn’t made your acquaintance. He was mostly quiet throughout the night, sometimes too quiet, but you chalked that up to how he was raised. Knowing what your husband went through, bouncing from house to house, no one really caring if he lived or died, you always had a soft spot for the people he bonded with during those years, and Malik was one of them.

T’Challa walked over to the rowdy bunch in his usual stoic way, hiding something behind his back. Nakia stood next to him, beaming from ear to ear.

“Pardon me Y/N, gentlemen, but N’Jadaka, I have something that might interest you.” He revealed a black velvet cigar box with the word “Daka” embroidered on the top in gold. It was rare to shock this man, it was even more rare for T’Challa to pull a reaction from Erik that wasn’t sarcastic or flippant.

“Yooooo, T! You wild out man!”

Turning to you as Erik stood up, “Is that a good thing?”

Before you could reply, Shuri belted out a laugh from across the room and said, “Oh brotha! That’s a VERY good thing!”

Erik hugged T’Challa, which was enough to bring a tear to your eye, as the men clamoured for access to a cigar as they walked out on the balcony to light one and commemorate the occasion.

You and Nakia locked arms and laughed at the group as they ran outside as if hiding a porno tape from their mothers.

Turning to her, “Should I ask where you got those?”

“Let’s just say, they once belonged to a very bad man with many items that needed to be confiscated for...archiving. And now they have been gifted to a better man to celebrate his life and the passage of time.”

“Riiight. Well thank you, for everything. I really appreciate you guys. He’s been so down lately. I couldn’t have done this without your help. I’m gonna go get the cake ready while they’re out there.”

Walking towards the kitchen, you noticed Shuri trying to hide behind a few other guests that were deep in conversation in the dining room. Pausing, you didn’t even have to walk her way to know what she was up to.

“Shuri! Put that drink down right now!”

“Awww, Y/N come on! I thought we were cool. I just want a taste of this good American stuff.”

“Girl, your mother will kill me! Put it down and go find the candles for the cake.”

She stomped over to you and you grabbed her in a tight hug.

“You’re no fun, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

You walked into the kitchen dancing and singing to yourself. “Tell Me” by Groove Theory was now playing through the speakers Erik insisted you guys have installed when you first brought the place. A few of the guests trickled out of the room as Erik’s friend Malik followed you in.

“Tell me if you want me to, give you all my time. I wanna make it GOOD FOR YOUUU!!!!”

You grabbed some plates and napkins from the cabinet and turned mid groove to find Malik standing a little too close. He was taller than your husband but his facial features were no comparison. Let’s be real, not many faces could compare.

“Oh my bad. I didn’t mean to scare you...I was just lookin’ for a garbage. Y’all recycle?”

“Yep, uuh, right there by the door.”

“Cool cool.” Walking over to discard his beer bottle, he turned back around and extended a hand to you. “Malik.”

Switching the plates to your left hand, you extended yours to shake his. “I know. Erik told me about you. He said you guys were like brothers growing up.”

“Yeah, that’s my dawg.” Licking his lips and taking you in a little too intensely, he continued his thought. “We always liked to share things when we were comin’ up.”

You snatched your hand back as Shuri walked in with the candles in hand, dancing to herself.

“Y/N, you have to make me a playlist of these songs for the lab!”

“I will, I promise.”

You walked towards her, grateful to your God and Bast that Shuri’s timing was so impeccable. As you handed her the other items and took the cake from the counter, Malik touched your butt and quickly left the kitchen.

Did he just grab my ASS?!

No, no, he didn’t, he couldn’t!

That nigga just grabbed by ASS!!

You stormed out of the kitchen ready to raise hell, but as soon as you did, a smiling Erik black man jogged towards you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“You good babe?”

Hands on his chest, gazing in to his bright eyes full of happiness and peace for the first time in a while, there was no way you could ruin this night.

“Yeah, yeah sweetie I’m ok. I was just looking for the candles that’s all. You ready for your cake?”

Nestling his face in your neck as he replied, leaving a wet kiss. “As long as I can have the rest of my dessert later.”

You giggled as his facial hair grazed your skin and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. You hoped that Malik was somewhere watching, being reminded of who the hell your man was and the imminent danger his life was in if he EVER decided to touch you again.

-------

“Aight aight, enough of this terrible singing...blow out the candles man!” One of Erik’s college friends yelled, causing everyone to erupt in laughter. Erik obliged and everyone cheered. He found his way right back to you, engulfing you in his embrace from behind.

“I wanna thank y’all for coming tonight, for real. To have everyone I care about in the same room celebrating me, it’s just, yeah…...I especially wanna thank my princess, my QUEEN who pulled this off without breaking a sweat. I love you, Y/N.”

Turning to face your man, you couldn’t stop cheesing, caressing his dimpled cheeks as he pecked your lips repeatedly.

“Damn, I guess this is what happens when a nigga gets old. Got me all emotional and shit! Shuri, turn that music back up!”

-------

The house had finally cleared of most guests, finally allowing you to put your fuzzy slippers on. You were saying your final goodbyes to T’Challa, Nakia, Shuri.

“Are you sure you don’t need Shuri to help you stay and clean up?” T joked as they walked towards the door.

“Haha! No it’s ok, really. There’s not much more to do. Thank you again. You really made his night.”

“It was our pleasure, Y/N.”

“Make sure you stop by before you head back to Wakanda.”

You closed the door and the newfound silence of your apartment caused you to immediately flash back to that moment in the kitchen with Malik. You had to make sure it got dealt with, but not tonight.

You walked out on the balcony to take in the night air. The life of a hostess was not easy and fatigue was hitting you like a ton of bricks. Out of nowhere, a massive hand smacked you on the butt, scaring the crap out of you. You turned to see it was Erik and not the filth who had violated your space earlier.

“Why you so jumpy girl?”

Attempting to gather yourself quickly and avoid his gaze, you brushed past him and went back into the living room. But as always, he was hot on your heels.

“I’m not E, damn! You just...I thought you were upstairs.”

“You only call me E when you’re annoyed at something or pissed at me, so what’s up?”

“Nothing ERIK, nothing. You’re just always on your sleath shit moving around this house and I wasn’t ready. I’m just tired, baby, that’s all.” Walking towards the steps, you prayed that was enough to hold him off for a bit.

“I’m gonna go change clothes. I left the cake on the counter if you want another slice. Cuz I know you want another slice.”

Whew! Home free, at least for now. You knew your nightly routine would at least give you some time away from him to think. Of course you’d tell him, eventually, but you knew Erik’s past too well to pretend that you weren’t fearful of what he’d do. You’d never be able to erase the sound of the guy's jaw breaking because he put his hands on you at the club when you first started dating. Or the time he threatened your old boss's life and family for overworking his ‘princess’ when you started having panic attacks because of your job. You weren’t at all scared of him, but you were scared of how this news would set him back.

You emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and wearing Erik’s shirt, to find him perched on the corner of your enormous bed, cake in hand and staring at you. You playfully walked towards him planting yourself in between his legs.

“Can I have a piece?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll just go get my own.”

“I ate it all before I came upstairs.”

“You better be lying.”

He wasn’t budging and you could tell his patience was starting to wane.

“Fine! Since you refuse to drop this.” You hesitated, backing away from him, bracing yourself for impact, but quickly decided to go another route. You walked to the closet and grabbed a small gift wrapped box from where you kept your extra tampons. He joked with you once that he’d be willing to buy them for you, but after that, you were on your own.

“I made us reservations for tomorrow night. I was going to give this to you then, but you’re so impatient.”

You handed over the box with a huge smile on your face, the giddiness now starting to set in.

Erik looked down at the box and back towards you, rubbing your thigh slowly.

“Well, open, open!”

He chuckled, finding your sudden excitement amusing. “Oh I’m the impatient one?”

He finally opened the box and pulled out a black dog tag necklace with the word ‘Baba’ inscribed on one side and a fingerprint on the other. Erik stared at the necklace in awe. When he finally looked up, he had tears in his eyes, which always made you full on cry.

“Happy Birthday! I’m pregnant. This is your father's fingerprint. I had Nakia do some digging to…”

Before you could get another word out, Erik’s lips were attached to yours. He lifted you off your feet bridal style and placed you on the bed as if moving too fast would break you. Erik made love to you as if it were the first time. Covering every inch of your body with attention to make sure you knew how appreciative he was of the best gift he could have ever asked for.

-------

You laid on your husband's chest, tracing his scars while his fingers made lazy circles along your stomach.

“How long have you known?”

“A few weeks.”

“Damn, I must’ve really been out of it.”

You smiled because him admitting it meant he was finally back.

“E…” You sat up, gathering the sheet around yourself to face him.

“What’s up?”

“Is it hot in here? Wow, i’m sweating.” You jumped up suddenly wrapped in the sheet to go open the window. Now pacing…Erik sat up fully and gave you a minute to process whatever the hell you refused to spit out from earlier.

“Y/N, talk to me.”

“Ok, Erik, listen. Before I tell you anything, I want you to remember that you’re about to be a father. And before I needed you but now it’s your family that needs you. You hear the difference there? We’re a family. And I have a doctors appointment tomorrow afternoon so now that you know I want you to come so you can meet the doctor and get used to…”

In his usual sleath-like manor, Erik had hoped out of bed to stop you from pacing. Once you finally turned around, you were face to chest with him. He lightly grabbed your chin and raised an inquisitive brow. You took a deep breath and finally blurted it out! By the time you finished recounting the story, Erik’s jaw was locked and his body frozen. At this point, you were sitting on the edge of the bed because, exhaustion.

“....I didn’t say anything earlier because you were so happy. Baby I hadn’t heard your laugh in such a long time. I also know how close the two of you used to be. I’m so sorry.”

Hearing that brought your husband back out of his daze. He knelt in front of you making sure your eyes were locked with his.

“Y/N, listen to me. You have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me? You’re my whole world..” Touching your stomach, “Tonight you’ve managed to make that world even better. That nigga violated my trust and made you feel less than in your own body, in our house...f**k no.”

Erik was eerily calm. The man you knew would’ve been dressed at the part of the story with the handshake and in front of Malik’s house with you on speaker by the time you said, “...touched by ass.”

Instead, with a kiss to your forehead, he made the choice to lay back down. “It’s all good baby, let’s get some sleep.”

-------

The next day you awoke to an empty bed. You got dressed quickly and headed downstairs to find Erik in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Good morning beautiful.”

This was always one of your favorite sights. You stood behind him, wrapping him in a hug while he plated the cheese eggs and breathed him in.

“It’s your birthday Erik. I should be cooking for you.”

“Please...besides your doctor called and had to push your appointment up by an hour so eat up quick! I don’t wanna be late.”

You watched him run upstairs, still wondering who the hell this new guy was and what he did with Erik “the colonizers can kiss mine” Stevens.

He came back down, keys in hand, dog tag on next to his father's ring, sneakers and glasses on. Damn you loved when he wore those glasses. That’s probably how you got pregnant in the first place.

“You ready?”

“Yeah…” You put your plate in the dishwasher and grabbed your bag, walking towards the hallway with him.

“Baby? About our conversation last night. You’re not gonna do anything crazy are you?”

“Oh, you mean Malk?”

“Yes, Erik, that’s what I'm talking about”

“It’s already handled.”

“Erik...what did you do?! Didn’t we discuss this? FAMILY. BABY. Us NEEDING you to not get locked up or worse.”

“Relax, Y/N. I didn’t do anything personally.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief, but he wasn’t quite done. “...let’s just say no one will see him anywhere, EVER...AGAIN.”

“E! You can’t just go offing people at every whim, even if you do hire someone else to take care of it for you. That’s not what I meant.”

“Baby steps, ma. Baby steps.”

#erik stevens x reader #Erik killmonger x Reader #erik x reader #blacklove #marvel universe #reelwriter19 #oneshot #birthday #black panther

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

When the Queen Becomes the King

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x FtM Trans Reader

Word Count: 2,092

Warnings; Depression and gender dysphoria, mentions of cancer, Maxwell cries, but a very fluffy ending.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

Trans reader having trouble with the whole identity shit and needs a change ASAP, so Max decides to give him the full Maxwell beauty treatment. Yes I am projecting again.

Maxwell always told you he loved the night. It was dark and comforting, an ever present blanket that wrapped him up and helped him sleep.

You were quite the opposite. The night was a horror show to you, filled with demons and silence.

Rolling over in the bed you shared with your boyfriend, you sighed, gazing out the floor to ceiling windows, at the bustling DC midnight. If New York was the city that never slept, then DC was the city that ran on two hours of sleep and eight cups of coffee. The only time you could imagine it ever being quiet and dark was around 2 AM.

2 AM, which was slowly approaching. Maxwell slept beside you, lightly snoring. It wasn’t him keeping you awake, oh no. It was your own head. Horrible thoughts and even worse confessions, until you no longer felt like yourself.

Truthfully, you hadn’t ever really felt like yourself, but that wasn’t a concern until the lights went out.

Sighing as you watched a helicopter in the distance, you tried to imagine a different life for yourself. You were still dating Maxwell, of course. He was a constant, no matter what you imagined. But instead of laying beside him in a soft nightgown, you were wearing sleep pants similar to his, with two sets of men’s clothes in the closet instead of his suits and your dresses. You were different in your imagination, all flat chest and strong arms, a better jaw and less softness to your face. Maxwell always complimented you when you stood displeased in front of the mirror, but his reassurance that you looked amazing only made you feel worse.

Wiping away tears, you realized DC had gotten quieter as midnight came and went. The quiet filled you, making your thoughts loud. Too loud.

Slipping out of bed, you walked as quietly as possible to the bathroom. For as much as he slept, Maxwell was a very light sleeper. You shut the bathroom door slowly and as soon as it was shut, you collapsed, feeling the cold tile press into your skin. It was a shock, but a welcome one. Through the thinness of your nightgown, you could feel each groove in the tile, rolling onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. In here, the air conditioning was louder, the gentle hum washing over your thoughts and taking them away, like the ocean reclaiming a seashell from the shore.

The bathroom light flickered, meaning Maxwell had probably noticed you were missing from the bed and turned on the bedside lamp.

Sitting up, you began to fabricate your lie, that you’d felt sick and wanted to make sure you didn’t throw up in the bed. Maxwell would believe that. He always did.

Grabbing the bathroom counter to haul yourself to standing, your hand hit something. Staring down, you took in the innocent sight of Maxwell’s razor.

Taking a breath, you moved your trembling hand. He had a habit of not putting stuff away when he was tired, and this was no exception.

“Doll?” Maxwell’s late night rasp shocked you so much you jumped. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The shuffling sound of Maxwell getting out of bed alerted you, but you couldn’t do anything about it. All you could do was shake.

“Doll,” Maxwell said again, opening the door and squinting in the light. “What are you-“ he cut off at the image of you, terrified, filled his eyes. “Doll, is that my razor?”

Tearing your gaze from him, you looked down at your hand, which did, in fact, have a death grip on the razor.

Maxwell carefully wrapped his hand around yours, trying to ease your grip. “Doll. What’s wrong?”

You still couldn’t speak, choking on your words as you collapsed into Maxwell’s chest, body heaving with sobs.

“Oh doll,” Maxwell murmured, wrapping you in a hug and carrying you to the bed. “Doll, are you feeling ill?”

You shook your head.

“Is it something mental?”

You nodded, and Maxwell immediately lay you on the duvet and cuddled you to his chest, you still in his lap. “It’s okay, doll. I’m here.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed out, cold hands pressing to Maxwell’s bare sides. “Nothing is okay!”

Maxwell stroked your hair. “It will be one day,” he promised. “One day, it will all be okay.”

“Max,” you rasped, pulling away so you could meet his eyes. “Max, I’m sick.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Maxwell immediately began to cry just as hard as you, securing you in a solid hug. You were surprised until you remembered he’d lost almost half his family to cancer. Telling him you were sick meant, in his mind, you were dying.

“Max,” you said, still crying. “Max, I’m fine. I’m not, Max, I’m okay.”

Maxwell clutched your nightgown tighter. “I can’t lose you,” he gasped, you feeling his chest heave. “Not you.”

“Maxwell, I’m a boy!” You all but yelled, grabbing his face and making him look at you. His eyes went wide, hands taking yours. “I’m a boy,” you breathed, wiping away Maxwell’s tears.

“That’s it?” Maxwell asked, looking you up and down. “That’s it? That’s all? Promise?”

You nodded. “I promise. That’s all. Not dying.”

“But still sick?”

Another nod. “Still sick. My brain is sick, like yours.”

Maxwell took a breath. He’d been diagnosed with childhood PTSD, and he hated it. “Just like mine?”

“No,” you amended. “But close. My brain isn’t the same as my body. My brain is male, but my body is female.”

Maxwell nodded. “So, you’re not my queen. You’re my king.”

Smiling, you stroked his face, wiping away the final tears. “Yeah, your king.”

The next day, after a night of simply holding each other and staying awake in each other’s arms, Maxwell insisted on canceling every meeting he had. He told everyone over the phone that you weren’t feeling well and he was going to take the day off to care for you.

Taking care of you apparently meant cuddling you for the better part of the morning, occasionally murmuring compliments that made you blush. When he finally did manage to get you out of bed, he rummaged through his closet until he found an old pair of pyjamas for you to wear. They were worn out and a bit too big, but they were distinctly not women's clothes.

“We can find something for your chest later today,” Maxwell promised, admiring you despite the fact that it was just pyjamas. “And your hair.”

“Oh.” You reached a hand up on instinct, touching your hair. “Actually, can you do it?”

Maxwell’s face scrunched. “Are you sure? My stylist can definitely do a better job than I can.”

You nodded, turning from the mirror to face Maxwell. “I’m sure.”

Despite what was about to be a bathroom hack job, Maxwell insisted on trying to give you, in his words, ‘a quality experience.’ He dragged one of your barstools into the bathroom, set yesterday’s newspaper on the floor to make cleaning easier, and even refused to use the kitchen shears. You simply watched, laughing as Maxwell passed you with the stool. “Do you want help?”

“Nope!” Max said cheerily. “Today is about you, so I’m going to do all the heavy lifting!”

“Literally,” you added, smiling as he put the stool down and rubbed his back. “Do you still love me?”

Maxwell straightened, clearly confused. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m a boy,” you said softly. “And that would make you, y’know,”

“Gay?” Maxwell took your hands and kissed each of your palms, resting them on his cheeks when he was finished. “I don’t care who you are. I love you no matter what. You’re always going to be caring and handsome and perfect, and I will always, always love you.”

You smiled, trying to get rid of the tears in your eyes. “I love you Max.”

“I love you more my king.”

You laughed, burying your face in his shoulder. “Oh, I’m never going to escape that, am I?”

“Nope!” Maxwell said cheerily, scooping you up and placing you on the stool. “Now, my king,” he said, putting one of his old towels over your shoulders. “How do I do this?”

“Well,” you said slowly, handing him the scissors. “The bulk has to go. Before we do anything.”

Maxwell nodded, running his hands through your hair one last time before gathering it in a hair tie. “Ready?”

“Maxwell, darling, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” Truth be told, you were gripping the edge of the stool so tight that your knuckles had gone white. “Just do it.”

Taking a deep breath, Maxwell sunk the scissors just above the hair tie, face scrunching as he worked. Within a minute, he was gingerly placing the severed hair down on the counter, as cautious as if he was holding a removed arm. “Well. Now that that’s done. What now?”

You opened your eyes. Hair, choppy and highly uneven, framed your jaw. It was a start, and you could feel Maxwell sifting his hands through your hair. You vaguely heard a joke about a mullet, and then he began to gauge length, humming to himself.

“Max,” you said, so softly he probably didn’t even hear you. “Max.”

“Hm? Have you decided on a style? I was just thinking we could do something like mine.”

You shook your head, reaching for Maxwell’s razor that he still hadn’t put away. “Babe,” he said warningly. “What are you doing?”

Before he could stop you or even get another word out, you turned the razor on and in one swift movement, shoved it down the center of your skull, sending a cascade of hair down your shoulders.

“Babe!” Maxwell shouted, but you just handed him the razor and took a stiff breath.

“Your turn,” you said, never tearing your eyes from the mirror.

Maxwell was a lot more hesitant than you had been, but he did as you asked. Cradling your head with one hand, he continued what you’d started, taking surprisingly expert care of you. When he finished, he stepped back, turning the razor off and nodding. “Happy?”

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes. “Yes,” you said, voice no higher than a whisper. “Max, darling, I’m finally myself.”

Maxwell smiled, holding your hands and helping you down off the stool. “Why don’t we shower,” he suggested. “I’ll find you something to wear, and then we can go out shopping, okay?”

It was a good plan. Maxwell turned the shower on, leaving you to bathe so he could pull clothes.

“Try these,” he said, handing you your tightest sports bra and his boxers. You did, smiling as he passed you a shirt and pants. He’d outgrown them years ago, before he’d met you, but kept them for sentiment. Now, they fit you well, and you turned in a circle to see the outfit from all angles.

“Shall we?” Maxwell asked once he was also dressed, holding an arm out to you.

You laughed. “We shall,” you said, linking arms with him and following him out into the DC summer.

It was odd, shopping for men’s clothes. Maxwell was insistent upon getting you a nice suit for events, and you followed him easily. Somehow, he knew all the safe shops, the ones where they accepted people like you.

“And would you like to try a binding bra?” The woman who was helping you asked.

You nodded. “Yes please.”

She grabbed the appropriately sized bra and helped you in it. “That man of yours, he’s very supportive. You better keep him around, or someone else will snatch him up.”

Smiling, you remembered Maxwell’s seemingly instant acceptance of you. “I don’t think him leaving will be a problem,” you said softly, admiring the suit you were in. “This is nice.”

“Why don’t you go show your boyfriend,” the woman said, and you did.

All throughout the day, Maxwell was happy by your side, even when people jeered and a reporter asked him how he felt dating a man. He simply shoved them off and said you and him were as happy as ever.

And as you snuggled down into bed that night, lulled by the never ending bustle of the DC skyline, you realized that he was right. Tucked up under Maxwell’s arm, wearing his pyjama bottoms and no shirt, the soft stubble of your hair tickling his skin, you had never been happier.

#wonder woman 1984 #ww84 #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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emachinescat · 3 years

Text

Sleep Stays as Far

A Tales of Arcadia: Trollhunters Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 6 - insomnia

Summary: Until Jim became a troll, he never realized how much he took sleeping for granted. And once human again, he finds himself struggling to do the very thing he missed so much. No rest for the weary, and all that. Takes place after my story “Lest Back the Awful Door Should Swing,” though not a direct sequel.

Characters | Pairings: Jim, Claire, Toby, Blinky, Nomura | Jim/Claire

Words: 2,370

TW: None

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

So my thoughts are:

But sleep stays as far…

For sleeping, like death,

Must be worn without pride,

With a nod from nature,

With a lack of strain,

And a loss of stature.

- From “How to Sleep” by Philip Larkin

It’s strange, isn’t it, how human beings have a tendency to dismiss, or even grow to resent, things that, if taken away, they would miss very dearly?

Jim Lake grew up hearing that old idiom that parents love to impart upon their children crying for that which they don’t have, “The grass is always greener on the other side.” But never did it have more meaning to him than when he was turned into a troll and could no longer do a great number of things he had enjoyed as a human.

Eating normal human food was one, but his tastes changed with his body, and he soon adapted to his strange, newfound tastes. He really missed being able to go out in the sunlight. Walking through doorways without gouging grooves into the wood above with his horns was another.

Sleeping, though, was what he found himself missing the most.

It was funny, he thought wryly as he sat huddled in a corner of the cave he and his fellow travellers were currently occupying - just a month ago, sleep would have been at the very bottom of his to do list. After all, he was a teenager, and what teenager has time for sleep? Especially with his double life, Jim was used to working with very little sleep. And even when he did have a rare night off, he still usually stayed up until the wee hours of the morning playing video games or watching Netflix.

But now, it seemed, sleep wasn’t something he needed. At first he’d been thrilled. He was finally able to stay up all night and not feel like he was trudging through quicksand the day after. As Claire was the only one in their party who was human and had to sleep, there were plenty of others to keep him company during the long nights. He trained with Blinky and Nomura, who, as a halfling, only slept about two hours a night, explored the world outside of whatever cave they happened to be staying in, and even played on his phone sometimes when things got quiet just before dawn.

Eventually, though, he found himself distancing from his trollish friends and sitting, lost in thought, most nights. Sometimes he would watch Claire sleep - not in a creepy way, just remembering what it was like to be able to curl up under a blanket and let the world fade away for a bit.

He’d had his battles with sleep before, and for a while, first after he’d returned from the Darklands, broken in so many ways, and then later, after healing wounds had been torn open by his arrest and forced journey into The Deep. For weeks after these occurrences, he had been terrified to let sleep claim him, as nightmares haunted his mind, throwing him back into the Darklands, into a cage, into a pit.

Time had passed, and he, with the help of his friends, had slowly begun to heal, and eventually, sleep became more of an escape from the stress and fatigue of trying to save the world from Eternal Darkness. He missed the way that he had been able to let go and just rest his mind and thoughts, even if the odd nightmare did show up and spoil his peace from time to time. Now, there was no release from the thoughts and fears and conflicting emotions swirling around inside of his head.

Once, he had tried to lie down, close his eyes, and just try to drift off. It hadn’t worked, and he’d spent the entire night tossing and turning endlessly, and by the time he sensed dawn slithering its burning tendrils through the opening of the cave, he was ready to slam his head through a wall.

He’d also tried talking to his friends about it.

Claire was sympathetic, but it was clear that she didn’t understand his dilemma. To her, an over-achiever who seemed to never have enough time to get everything she needed done, not having to sleep sounded like a dream come true.

Blinky frowned and began to wax philosophical about sleep being an abstract construct, and how it has often been believed to be a gateway between realities, and then got distracted by quoting the famous soliloquy from Hamlet (“to sleep, perchance, to dream”).

He had hoped that he’d have better luck with Nomura, especially since talking to her had largely been what had gotten him through the trauma of the Darklands (and since she was a changeling and still needed a bit of sleep herself). She listened to his complaints, a slight frown on her face, green eyes studying him seriously. After he’d finished speaking, she’d contemplated his words, and Jim was sure she was about to say something wise or even fractionally helpful. Instead, she just growled, “I don’t get it.”

Tonight was worse than most. It had been a rough day, physically taxing, and his mind kept whirling in so many directions he felt as if he were being pulled apart. He missed his mom. He missed his bed and his old life and being able to feel the sun on his skin, and he was tired of seeing the unfamiliar, trollish face blink back at him every time he saw his reflection. He missed hanging out with Toby and Arrrggghh, missed eating fast food and cooking and even going to school.

And he was forced to trudge, wide-awake, through it all, with no rest from his thoughts, and it made him angry, and pulled at the aching hole that had been festering in his chest since the moment he’d become a troll.

***

Another sleepless night.

This one was the worst yet, though, because somehow - Jim’s mind was even now trying to come to terms with what all had happened - he was human again, after being mortally wounded, frozen in time (which didn’t count as sleep because he had just stopped while encased in the crystal), turned into a full troll, had his mind taken over, and turned to stone. No one could explain exactly how it happened, not Blinky, not Douxie, the latter of whom, to be fair, had been in no shape to really offer his coherent thoughts on the matter after his fall from the clouds.

But did it matter? In the end, here he was, Jim Lake, Jr. once more. Fully human, with a few new scars to add to his collection. He could go outside in the sunlight and fit through doors. He was still reeling from the loss of his amulet - Blinky said he was in a state of shock and that it would hit him soon - but he had gotten to hug his mom with his own arms again.

And now, here he was, back in his own bed, exactly as he had yearned to be so much over the past few months. Jim's whole house was asleep, Toby and Claire were back home, probably asleep right now, too, and Douxie should be passed out from the muscle relaxers Jim’s mom had prescribed him.

Everyone was sleeping. Jim had been dreaming of sleeping for weeks. Now that he had the ability to sleep once more, even though his eyes burned in exhaustion, he found that sleep evaded him just as it had done when he was a troll.

It wasn’t that he had a lot on his mind. He did, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t sleep. He knew what sleeplessness from a cluttered mind felt like, and this wasn’t it. It was like his body had physically forgotten how to fall asleep. Perhaps it had. If so, he was in trouble, because human-Jim needed sleep to survive.

He couldn't get comfortable, no matter how many times he changed position. His body ached with the pains of battle, and the bed was too soft after months spent sleeping on rock. Every little noise - a car passing outside, a distant police siren, the creak of wind through trees - grated on his nerves like someone was dragging fingernails across a chalkboard. Time slunk by, eluding him as much as sleep - at times he was sure it had stopped. Every time he glanced at the clock, it was as if no time at all had passed since he last checked.

By five in the morning, he admitted defeat and heaved his weary body out of bed, all but dragging himself into the shower and standing under the hot water long enough for the bathroom to fill with steam before he started to wash. He felt physically ill from exhaustion, and his head pounded in time with his heart. He’d hoped the shower would wake him up, or put him to sleep - he just wanted out of this limbo.

It did neither, and he left home without eating breakfast, too nauseated to consider eating anything even though human food was one of the things he’d missed out on as a troll. He got on his Vespa and drove off, not knowing where he was going, barely even caring.

***

He ended up at the overlook, the place where he’d first danced with Claire, and where she’d taken him for a picnic while stuck in the past. He remembered how it had felt to know he was going to die as soon as he returned to his own time, and how hard it had been to keep that from Claire, whose bright brown eyes had gleamed a future he’d been sure he’d never see.

He flopped down on the dewy grass and savored the feel of the first rays of sun on his face as dawn broke through the night. He knew his clothes would be damp and grass-stained when he got up.

He watched the sun rise over Arcadia, and for the first time since his return home, since he’d become human again, he felt a sliver of peace.

Still, he did not sleep.

***

This is how Claire found him at half past nine. Jim had left a note for his mom, telling her he’d gone out for a ride to clear his head, but he’d forgotten to text Claire to let her know. His phone was still at home on the bathroom sink, where he’d forgotten it.

Claire had known exactly where he was, though, and he saw the concern in her eyes from the moment she stepped out of her Shadow portal. “Jim, your mom was worried about you,” she said matter-of-factly. She moved over to his side and sat down.

“I told her I went out.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say where or why, and you left your phone. Here.” He took the device she offered him and slowly, painfully propped himself up on his elbows. She studied his face with her lips pressed together in worry. “You look awful.”

Jim chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t feel so hot, either.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

Jim laughed again, this time hollowly. “Not a wink.” He scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. They felt gritty and prickled like he’d just finished chopping a particularly potent onion. “I don’t get it,” he went on in frustration. “I went without sleep for weeks, and I thought I’d never get a proper night’s rest again. But then - whatever it was - happened, and I’m me again, and I still can’t fall asleep.” A horrible thought occurred to him. “What if being a troll broke something inside of me? What if I never sleep again?” He could hear his voice rising in speed and pitch. “How long can a human go without sleep?”

Claire took one of his hands in one of hers. With her other hand, she cupped the side of his face. He leaned into the touch. “Don’t worry, Jim,” she reassured him. “You’ve just been through a lot. Your entire physiology’s reworked itself so many times that the rest of you is probably still trying to catch up. Plus, you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah,” he agreed glumly. He yawned.

“You know,” Claire said suddenly, tone brightening. “Maybe you haven’t been able to sleep because you don’t feel safe yet. After all, you’ve been through so much lately. As a troll, maybe you forgot that humans need to feel safe before they can fall asleep.”

Jim quirked an eyebrow at her. “You seemed to have no trouble falling asleep throughout our travels,” he commented. “In caves and gorges and once in an abandoned shipping container. You couldn’t have felt safe in any of those places, away from home and lying on the hard ground.”

Claire shook her head as if marveling at how dense he was. “There was never a night that I didn’t feel safe, Jim.”

Jim blinked. He was so tired. “Oh yeah,” he realized. “There were tons of trolls guarding you.”

“No, dummy,” Claire sighed, smoothing a stray lock of hair off of his forehead. “I felt safe because I was with you.”

“Oh,” said Jim blankly. Then realization dawned. “I feel safe with you, too.”

“Hold that thought.” She smiled warmly at him, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and rose to her feet. “I brought something I think you’ll like. Just a sec.” She hurried back to her bike, and he heard her tug something out of the front basket. She returned with a purple and pink checked picnic blanket and together they spread it on the grass and laughed as the wind almost blew it away, off the overlook. They plopped down on it, side by side, in a desperate attempt to keep it from escaping.

***

Two hours later, Toby came looking for his friends and found them on the grassy knoll overlooking Arcadia. They were lying on a blanket underneath a blue, cloud-specked sky with the noon sun keeping watch over them. They were curled up close to one another, wrapped in each other’s arms, fast asleep.

Toby smiled and let them rest.

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julessworldd · 4 years

Text

Kiddies Guns n Roses x reader

Based on a picture I posted from Instagram: Slash, Axl, Steven are drawn as toddlers and leave Duff and Izzy normal. I decided to add a reader, who is in a poly relationship with the band(I decided on a twist). Stay tuned to see if Izzy catches a child abuse case because of Axl being worse as a toddler. Sorry, if this isn’t the best I’m starting to get my groove back to write. Hope y'all enjoy!

The morning sun shined through the curtains, taking me out of my sleep. My hand ran over to the pillow beside me, I rolled over to see a tuft of blonde hair. “Morning Duffy” No response. I walked downstairs to Duff in his boxers, at the stove, “I thought you were in bed” “Oh hey, no I got hungry” Duff smiled as soon as he saw me. “Mhm, when did Stevie come to your bed?” I asked as I snuggled into his back, leaving small kisses. “I’ve been down here for 40 minutes, he wasn’t there when I woke up” Duff turned a pancake over. “Morning” Izzy grumbled. “Morning Iz” I walked over to him and kissed his temple. Duff had breakfast done, already on plates. “Breakfast!” He yelled like he did every morning. Izzy and I had started eating and finished in 20 minutes, still no one. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on? This is too spooky” I walked upstairs. I knocked on Axl’s door, “Hey Ax, breakfast is done, gonna get cold if you don’t hurry”. Nothing, I walked in and saw red hair peek out of the covers. Axl stays hot, why was he under the covers? I lifted the covers and gasped. Axl was a toddler, still had his long hair, T-shirt he slept in,swallowed him. “Hey Ax, what happened buddy?” I asked gently, nudging him awake. He jumped as he saw me, “My name is Billy” Axl/Billy said in a kid voice. “Duff!!” I yelled. Two boys ran in, “You okay, baby?” Izzy asked. “Holy shit” He said as he saw Axl as a toddler in his bed. “Grab him, we’ll go see what’s up with Slash and Steven,” Duff said. “Come here, Bill”, I held my hands in front of him, Axl crawled over to me. I met Izzy with Slash, Duff with Steven in their arms.

We figured out that Axl was shy, but loved to be held, Steven had always been a happy person, Slash had his english accent and was quiet. “Duff, we have to find them clothes that will fit, Axl almost tripped crawling over to me”, I said, petting Axl’s ginger hair. Duff had his own problem as Steven tried crawling in his hair to be closer. Steven remembered Duff and how they were close. Izzy and I went to the store to get clothes for the boys for a few days until we figured out how to get them to adults again. Duff had found a box of toys, the people who used to live here left behind. Slash was playing with a T- rex, Steven was still on Duff’s lap, Axl laid on his tummy, watching Tv. “Hi boys” I smiled as Axl ran up to me, giving me grabby hands. “Hi, baby boy” I kissed his cheek. Axl hid in my hair as I sat the bag at Duff’s feet. “Izdee” Axl whined. “You want Izzy?” I asked him, he nodded starting to get fussy. Izzy held Axl, but wasn’t sure about it. “Iz, he won’t bite,” I said, picking up Slash. “Hi, uh Saul” Almost forgot he didn’t get his nickname until later. He stared at me like he was trying to figure out who I was, his big brown eyes looked at me. “Hi, who are you?” He asked snuggling his head into my neck, while looking up at me. “I’m Y/n”

Duff and I attempted to make lunch, but Steven and Slash wouldn’t leave us alone long enough. “Boys, come here,” Izzy said. The pair waddled over to him as he guided them back into the living room. “What are we gonna do about them? You have tour in a month” I asked looking at Duff. “Have no clue, we don’t know how they got turned that way”,Duff sighed. “Maybe, Endora from Bewitched visited us last night”, I smirked. Duff gave me a go to hell look, “Sorry, not the time”, I said. I felt a tug on my leggings, I looked down it was Axl. He looked like he was about to cry, “Hey, buddy what’s wrong?” I asked as I picked him up. He sniffled and rubbed his face, “Saul hit me, I- I hit him back and Izdee yelled at me” “Billy, we don’t hit people, it's not nice. Izzy shouldn’t have yelled at you. Wanna stay with us? Y/n will hold you”, Duff looked at Axl and smiled. I grabbed Axl as he clinged to me. He was twirling a piece of my hair, just smiling at me. He squealed as Duff tickled his foot and hid behind me slightly. “Prettdee” Axl smiled while looking at me, he blushed when I asked him who was pretty. “Do we have to fix them to adults? He’s so cute” I pouted at Duff. “Yes, Izzy and I can’t be a two man band, babe” Duff said. “He’s hardly this clingy, I like it” I whined and hugged Axl to my chest. “Steven, don’t pull my hair! Slash stop walking in front of me” Izzy groaned as he walked in with Steven perched on his shoulders, Slash trying to climb his legs. “Hey baby” I smiled. Izzy sat the boys at the table and approached us. “Noo, stay away” Axl whined while hiding in my hair and clung to me. Izzy looked like he had been burned. “You yelled at him, his feelings are hurt, Izzy” I said. Duff took Axl to his chair, so grateful, Axl was starting to hurt my hip. “Tell him you were trying to correct him and that you’re sorry and will play with him after lunch. I wanna hold baby Slash, his hair so cute” I kissed his cheek. “Fine, but the little shit hit and bit me” Izzy grumbled. The boys got done eating and I grabbed tiny Slash and started giving him kisses around his cheeks, “It tickle” Slash squealed. “You’re so cute though, baby” I said, rubbing his belly as I moved him to my hip. “Juice” Steven said, looking up at Duff. “We don’t have juice in this house” Duff said. “We do too, babe bottom draw” I said, not noticing Slash’s tiny hand trying to grab my boob. “Slash, get out of there” I yelped as I finally noticed him. “Slashhh?” He turned his head. “Saul” He pointed to himself. “Right, sorry Saulie” I kissed his hair. Duff decided that they needed a nap. Izzy had Axl laying on his chest, Duff had Steven who was clutching a strand of black hair, I finally gave in to Slash to hold my boob. Boy had always been a boob lover, he wasn’t kidding. “Aw Izzy, he likes you again” I smiled looking at the pair, Izzy was shhing Axl, guess he was stirring. “Yeah, guess he does” Izzy grinned.

Slash and I had rolled facing the couch, “Y/n” “Mhmm” I mumbled. “Dinner is ready,” Izzy said. “Okay be there in a minute”, I said getting up and grabbing a sleeping Slash “Hey baby, wake up. Time to eat” “Momma” Slash grunted. “I’m not momma, Saul” I sat him next to Steven. I bent down to give Steven a kiss on his cheek, “Hi Stevie” Steven just looked at me. “My luck, you wouldn’t remember me even though you snuck into bed this morning” I pouted and sat next to Izzy and Axl. Izzy started kissing my neck and hit my sweet spot. “Mhm Izzy, knock it off” I whined. Izzy didn’t listen, I watched Axl crawl over from his chair and hit Izzy’s crotch. “Owww! The hell, Y/n?” Izzy pushed me away. “I didn’t hit you, Iz” I said pointing down to Axl in my lap. Izzy looked down to see a tiny pissed off Axl holding a hand protectively on my chest. “Dinner is served” Duff laid a plate in front of me and kissed my cheek. “Thanks Duffy, looks- hey not for you” I grabbed Axl away from my plate, little shit tried to steal my mac n cheese. Axl giggled, “Y/nn. Can I have a bite?” I looked at the plate of grilled chicken, mac n cheese, mashed potatoes then Axl again. “Here Ax” Duff sat a plate in front of him. “Hey do you think they remember how to feed themselves?” I asked Duff. “I cut their chicken into tiny pieces so maybe they’ll shovel it like always,” Duff said, sitting Steven and Slash’s food down. ‘Hey blondie, where’s my food at?” Izzy grumbled. “Here Satan.” Steven started crying, “Hey buddy, what happened?” Duff rubbed his back. “Saul threw chicken at me and it was hottt” Steven whined. “Saul, don’t throw food at anybody else” Izzy said, giving Slash ‘the look’. It scared me and it wasn’t towards me. Why was it also really hot?

Duff and I were in the bathroom with the boys and the tub running water. One of the boys tugged my sleeves, “Y/n, do we have to take a bath? I smell fine” Axl asked. “You have dirt from playing outside, dried ketchup on your cheek, and a leaf in your pretty red hair. Yes you have take a bath” I said, taking his t-shirt off. “This is no fun” Axl pouted with his arms crossed over his chest. Slash was clinging to Duff’s arm, “Nooo! That water is gross. Don’t make me Duff” “The water is clean, just has Steven and Axl in it and they’re okay” Duff said, prying Slash off his arm. “I don’t want bath with them” Slash whined. “Then with who?” Duff asked. I already knew. “Y/n” Slash gave a toothy grin to Duff. “No” Duff sat Slash in the water and started scrubbing his back. “Sorry Saulie, maybe another time” I grinned pouring water onto Steven’s head. “You’re prettdee” Steven turned his head to look at me, “Thank you, Stevie. Stay still so I don’t get shampoo in your eyes” I said shampooing his head. Slash was in a towel staring at Steven and I. “What’s the matter, Saul?” I asked. “Can you put my clothes on? I’m cold” Slash asked while petting my hair. “Let me get Stevie out and I will help you,” I said, bopping Steven’s nose. I guided Slash and Steven out of the bathroom. “You’re just gonna leave me in here with me?” Duff yelled. “He’s a baby, Duff”, I yelled back. Steven had dog pj’s on and Slash little dinos on his. I decided to put them in Axl’s room. I didn't want Slash to find his snakes in his room. “Hi, Y/n. I’m clean now” Axl said perched on Duff’s shoulders. “Hi baby, you are. Come on” I said lifting him off of Duff. “What jammies do you want?” I asked, holding him on my hip. Axl couldn’t decide I put him in duck pj’s. “Alright bedtime. No goofing around just sleep okay?” I said standing at the door. “I need a kiss” Axl whined. “You already got one, Bill,” I said, shutting the door. Duff slammed me on the wall and started attacking my lips. “God, you’re so good with kids. It's hot” Duff said in between kisses. Duff rolled off of me and was catching his breath again. “Love you” “Love you too, Duffy” I laid my head on his chest. Couple hours later, Duff was snoring and I wasn’t sleepy yet. I knocked on Izzy’s door, heard his shower was on. Undressing again, I pulled the curtain back. Izzy didn’t hear or see me. I started kissing his back and shoulders, “Oh hey baby” Izzy turned around. Izzy had to carry me to his bed, “Sorry for being too rough” “It's okay, you know I like it rough, especially with you” I kissed his nose. Izzy put his Rolling Stones shirt on me before dozing off.

“Izzy wake up!” Axl yelled. “Ax, it's too early for your shit go away,” I groaned, snuggling closer to Izzy. “Okay, care to explain why my bed has the baby version of my guitarist and drummer.” Axl said, cocking his hip out. “Holy shit! How did you turn back to normal?” Izzy asked sitting up. Axl shrugged, “I don’t know, I woke up naked and had half of PJ’s on” “Aww those were so cute on you. Why did you have to turn back first?” I whined. “Izzy, do you have- Holy shit, you’re normal again” Duff said mid-yelling. “Are they still babies?” Izzy asked. “Yeah” I climbed out of bed but fell from the soreness from my legs to my crotch. “Fuck” “Did she?” Duff asked. Izzy nodded, helping me up. “Y/n?” A tiny Slash waddled to me. “Yeah?” I asked looking down at him. “I’m hungry and there’s a weird man in bed” Slash said. “Steven’s back” Duff said. I couldn’t walk so Izzy carried me to the kitchen while Axl held Slash. Slash was really cute as a baby like he is as an adult. Steven was looking in the fridge, “Did you guys feed me yesterday? I’m starving.” “We did but Duff cut everything up so you wouldn’t choke” I said as Izzy sat me at the table. “Prettdee” Slash said as he held a piece of Axl’s hair. We all laughed. Steven wanted us to watch a movie with him, we all camped out in the living room. Someone shook me awake, “Piss off” I groaned. “Y/n, what happened?” Slash said. “Saul, go back and sleep on Axl’s chest earlier. It's nap time” I snuggled closer to Izzy. “Nap time. What I am 3? Slash asked. Then it hit me, he’s back to normal. “Slash!!” I jumped into his arms and held him close. “I missed you this size” “What is she talking about?” Slash asked. “Axl, I and you got turned into toddlers for whatever weird ass reason” Steven said. “Yeah all of yesterday Izzy, Duff and I had to take care of you guys. You had your english accent and didn’t understand why we called you by your nickname” I said, while laying on Izzy’s shoulder. “Is that why I had dinosaur pj’s on?” Slash asked. “You put him in dinosaur PJ’s?” Izzy asked. “Yeah, Stevie had dogs and Axl had duck ones. I really wanted them in feetie Pj”s before they went back to normal. Forty bucks down the drain, we don’t have a baby running around here” I pouted. All the guys looked at each other and smirked, “What are you guys thinking? No, leave me alone” I locked eyes with Duff and had a sparkle in his eyes like always when he wants sex. I stood up but started to fall but Axl caught me, “I’m worn out, leave me alone. Watch a porno and circle jerk.” The guys all laughed and Axl threw me over his shoulder, “Come on guys” They all followed Axl as he walked into his room, “What are you guys planning?” I asked as Axl sat me on the middle of his bed. They stared at me and smiled, “Are you gonna kill me now?” I asked.

All of a sudden, I was pinned to the bed by Izzy, the rest of the guys were kissing all over my body, laughing. “Izzy, make em quit. It feels like leeches are on me” I giggled as Duff peppered my face with kisses. Axl switched places with Izzy and I had Izzy kissing my chest. After ten minutes, they all quit. “That was fun, again” Steven giggled. “No, it felt like leeches were attacking me” I whined climbing onto Duff’s lap. Izzy grinned. Axl sneezed and forgot to cover his mouth and it landed on Slash. “What the fuck?” Slash tackled Axl, the force of his movement made Axl’s bed break. Steven had fell on me, Duff broke my fall, “That’s not how I planned on breaking my bed, it involved Y/n” Axl said as Izzy rolled off of him.

“Why did you have to turn back?” Izzy asked grumbling as he left the room.

Wonder how it go if it was Izzy, Duff and I who turned to toddlers?

#guns n roses x reader #femreader #poly!guns

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writingsbymo-mo · 5 years

Note

What about 1 night mothman Shigi is sleepin all cozy/close 2 his fem s/o & he gets woken up by an odd, but familiar scent, at first he wonders if his heat has started, but then feels something warm, wet & sticky sliding onto him where she's pressed up against him. She's human, but she's leaking a ridiculous amount of her juices on him through her thin panties & sleep shorts as she basically humps against him in her sleep. She's going into a heat cycle of her own; wat is our fave mothboy 2 do? ♡

To Fuck or Not to Fuck? That is the Question…

NSFWTomothra (Mothman Shig) x F!Reader

Clothed Sex, Sleep Humping/Grinding, Mothman, Rough Sex

Not sure what else to tag for this one so please leave a comment or message me so I can properly tag this.

I’m keeping the dubcon tag for safety

Can he resist?

_____________________________________________

Shigaraki’s eyes shot open late in the night, sniffing the air. A waft of sweetness filled his senses as he inhaled. ‘This smell…I know this smell…’ It was the scent he enjoyed most, the sweet smell of your arousal. He awakened more once felt movement against his fuzzy sheath, his cock beginning to stir within.

You mewled and whimpered in your sleep as you lay atop Shigaraki, pressing your soaked, clothed pussy against him, alternating in circular and forward motions. “Mmm….Shiggy…”

Pink dusted his cheeks at the sound of your breathy moan of his name as he felt your arousal pooling onto his fuzz. He hissed as his cock hardened, beginning to poke out of his sheath. “Fuck, (y/n)!” He grimaced, his breathing grew heavy from each roll of your pussy, moans growing louder as you gained more friction.

Shigaraki knew it wasn’t possible for humans to go into heat but here you were, humping and grinding onto him like a bitch in heat. It wasn’t his heat season just yet either, so what made you so hot and bothered? “Fuck, why now (y/n)? Hnnng…I want to fuck you but…” He trailed off and let out a loud groan, instinct took over him as he met your thrusts. His wings began to twitch underneath him, desire spreading throughout his body.

It took him everything he had to keep from shifting your panties aside for him to fuck you right then and there. He wanted to but he also wanted you to get off so he could relieve himself. His antennae vibrated, annoyed in the pleasure he received.

You moaned louder as his cock dragged against your clit down to you clothed opening in a sawing motion, juices spilling out and coating his hardened erection. You mumbled, heady breaths escaped your mouth, “fuck…me….Shiggy…!!!”

“Dammit (y/n)….,” he growled, gripping your hips and waist as he pushed you on your back, pressing you into the soft, cushioned nest as you awoke from the sheer force.

You look up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, gazing at his eyes darkened with lust as he let out low growls. “Shiggy?”

“You want me to fuck you (y/n)? I’ll do it!!!” He snapped as his wings fluttered in anger and lust. Shigaraki pulled your wet shorts and panties aside, lining himself up against your sopping pussy. “You still want this?!!!”

A bit taken aback, your face grew hot. His cock prodded your entrance as you mewled, letting out a breathy moan, “yes…please!!!”

Shigaraki snapped his hips into you, pounding into your tight, dripping entrance as his wings and antennae vibrated, finally getting the friction he desired. His feathery tuft on his chest puffed out as his pheromones leaked out in a pleasant aroma. Your velvety walls swallowed him as he watched your face contort, indulged in lust the harder he went.

You moaned and groaned, gripping the blankets and pillows beneath you as Shigaraki’s thick cock ground into you wantonly. His sweet scent encased you, heightening your arousal as it began to soak into the mixed fabrics of the nest. Your walls greedily sucked his throbbing erection, every groove of it stroking your sensitive nerves, squelching with each continuous movement. “Shiggy!!!” You yelped as he removed a hand from your waist to stroke your clit, rolling it in circles.

Shigaraki flicked the bud in his fingers rapidly, hearing your babbles of want and need as your thighs began to tremble. He changed angles and began hitting your cervix, the head of his cock attempting to pierce through it as your walls began to constrict and twitch around him, increasing the friction. His antennae alerted him of your end coming. “Are you going to cum (y/n)?”

Your insides were on fire, numb with pleasure as you screamed a breathy yes. Tears began to pool around your eyes as you held your mouth agape. The taut coil within you was almost ready to burst.

“Cum for me, (y/n),” he shouted.

After one, two, three more thrusts, you came, drenching his cock and moth fluff with your sticky fluids. Your walls fluttered and twitched, attempting to milk him as the rest of your body trembled. You panted as you felt Shigaraki lock his hips against yours holding his head down as his vibrating antennae tickled your forehead.

“(Y/n)!!!” He cried, throwing his head back, wings on full display, quivering as he filled you with his hot sticky cum.

You sighed in content as his potent seed filled you in copious amounts, drooling out of your used pussy. Your walls continued to milk him for all he’s worth until he pulled out.

He loomed over you, panting heavily as he began to relax his wings. “What…were you…dreaming about?” He asked.

You gave him a questioning look for a moment, still recovering from the brutal pounding you received. “Dream…?” You muttered to yourself, wondering what he meant. Then it hit you, making your cheeks darken. “Ummm…I was…dreaming about you…”

“I knew that much (y/n), you kept moaning out my name!” He said in irritation. Red, bug-like eyes stare at you as he frowned.

Resting on your elbows, you attempt to sit up. Your eyes widened as the blush spread. “I-I did?” Now you worried what else may have happened. “Did I do something?”

Shigaraki sat down and pulled you against his soft body. “Well…you were humping me like you were in heat. I know you can’t go into heat but…you were dripping and grinding all over me,” he stated, cheeks flushed pink as he stroked your hair. “It drove me crazy!”

“I am so sorry Shiggy! I don’t know what I was doing,” you apologized, a bit frantic. You nuzzled into his chest, hiding your face from him.

He sighed and rested his head against yours. “It’s alright, (y/n). I just hope it doesn’t happen again…I won’t be able to control myself next time.”

“Just wake me up if I do,” you spoke into his chest as the fuzz muffled your voice. You wrapped your arms around his waist as Shigaraki fell back onto the nest of pillows and blankets, pulling you with him as he drifted off to sleep. You tried to get up to use the bathroom, but his grip was too strong. Instead, you rested against Shigaraki and joined him in his slumber.

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rosemaidenvixen · 4 years

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 9: Darci

Ao3

Darci shifted the bag onto her hip, leaving her hand free to knock on the door.

“It’s open,” Claire’s voice called from inside.

She quickly opened the door so she could better grip the bag, and headed into the house. Everyone else was already there, Jim and Mary were messing around in the kitchen while Toby fiddled with a pile of cards. Claire waved her over from her seat on the couch.

“I brought the guac, you have the chips?”

Darci held up the tote bag “Right here,”

Claire patted the spot next to her “We’re almost ready, Toby just needs to finish shuffling,”

Toby flashed them a thumbs up without taking his eyes away from the cards flying through his fingers.

“So as soon as our chefs finish we’ll be ready to start,” she gestured towards the kitchen.

“It would go a lot faster if someone ,” Jim’s voice wafted out of the kitchen “Would hurry up with the fancy apple juice,”

“Hey, I don’t tell you how to make those little meat pies, you don’t tell me how to do my mocktails,”

“They’re called pasties and more effort goes into them than you’ll ever know,”

“I’m sorry, do you want to play our new years cards against humanity tournament without mocktails? Because if you keep it up that’s what’s going to happen,”

Claire made a face and Darci had to stifle a giggle. She didn’t quite succeed and it came out as a snort.

Fortunately the bickering didn’t last and soon Jim and Mary came into the living room with their respective refreshments.

“We’re good to camp out here all day,” Jim said while carefully setting down his tray “But remember to try and be quiet, Mom just got off a graveyard shift and she’s trying to sleep,”

Darci nodded at this, normally they prefered to hang out at Claire’s house where they had a lot more space and didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone, but since her parents were having a bunch of people over to work on the new nursery they’d been forced to come up with alternate plans.

Toby grabbed the plastic bucket and plunked it down on top of the coffee table “Like we agreed guys, everyone ante up,”

Darci reached into her bag and pulled out the package of sparklers, briefly rereading the label before setting them in the bucket. Around her everyone else produced some kind of firework and put it in the offered bin.

Those were the terms they’d agreed on, everyone chipped in some of their leftover fireworks from last night, and the winner got the pot.

Now that the stakes were set, Toby started dealing out to each of them from the pile of white cards “Just to make sure everyone remembers, no throwing in the towel, we go until we drop. The winner’s the last one standing or the one with the most black cards by five o'clock, whichever comes first,” he flashed them a feral grin “Let the games begin,”

Claire returned his predatory look “You’d better bring your A-game TP, because I’m going home with those bottle rockets,”

The two of them stared each other down, Darci glanced over to Jim and Mary. The three of them rolled their eyes simultaneously.

It wasn’t like it really mattered who won, whoever it was would just end up shooting them all off at the end of the year bonfire with everyone else.

Jim apparently decided he’d had enough of Toby and Claire’s standoff and gently nudged his friend in the shoulder to grab his attention “Ok you dealt so I’ll draw the first black one,”

All eyes were on him as he picked up a black card from the top of the deck, flipped it over, and started reading it out loud “Arby’s, we have….”

The sound of shuffling filled the room as they all started rifling through their cards. Darci scanned through her hand before one in particular grabbed her attention. This one, this one was perfect. She couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face as she set her white card down with the others.

Her card did in fact win the Darci first round, and she won many rounds after that. Though not all of them. Steadily growing piles of black cards grew besides each of them; a visual reminder of each victory. Some rounds were over quickly with a winner being declared in seconds, others took a while, the judge having to choose between multiple very good choices or all bad choices. Some rounds were extended simply because they were all laughing too hard to function.

Their game passed in a blur of giggles, laughs, tears, and groans. So by the time Darci got around to checking her phone, she saw that it was already almost 2pm.

Toby lifted a card from the top of the black deck “Ok, the class field trip was completely ruined by... uh Darci, why are you raising your hand?”

“Hey, uh, not that I’m not having a blast,” she slowly lowered her hand “But all those mocktails are catching up to me,”

His eyes widened by just a fraction “Ah,”

They all looked around at the empty glasses and plates surrounding them. Jim was the first to set his cards facedown on the floor “How about we take a quick five minute break?”

“Ok,”

“Sounds good,”

“Fine by me,”

They all set down their cards and started getting to their feet

Darci glanced down the hall “Hey Jim, where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall past the kitchen, first door on the right, the other door’s just the basement,”

“Thanks,”

Mary started gathering empty glasses “I’ll go ahead and make more mocktails,”

Claire raised her arms above her head and stretched, no doubt working out the kinks in her back from staying seated so long “I think I’ll use the facilities too,”

“Make that three,” Jim added.

Uh oh, sounded like a line was forming.

Wasting no more time, Darci scurried off to the bathroom as discreetly as she could. She had to go bad and did not want to get stuck behind Claire and Jim. A few minutes later she walked out feeling very relieved, but was surprised to see no one waiting by the door.

Where were Jim and Claire? They’d said they had to go to, so why weren’t-- ah, the upstairs bathroom. That must be it.

Looking over to her right revealed that Toby, busy stacking haphazard piles of cards, was the only one in the living room. Sounds of pouring liquids and clinking glasses came from the kitchen, which meant Mary was still in there making drinks. It looked like Toby had the cards under control, so Darci opted to go into the kitchen to see if Mary needed help.

She poked her head through the entryway “You want an assist with those mocktails?”

Mary glanced over to her while still pouring two cans into the large pitcher “I’m just about done, but if you could put the empties in recycle that would be great,”

“Will do,”

Dacri started collecting empty cans and bottles from off the counters. But it was only when her arms were full that she realized she couldn’t see a recycling bin anywhere.

“You know where the bin is?”

“Just put them in the paper bag hanging off the back door,” Mary replied without looking up from stirring the pitcher “They have some other kind of plan,”

Walking over to the back door, Darci found the bag Mary was talking about with no issue, except for one slight problem. She stared at the narrow opening of the paper bag and then back down at the brimming pile of cans in her arms.

This was going to be a challenge.

Unwilling to admit defeat by setting the cans down on the counter and putting them in one at a time, Darci leaned over and held the pile of cans over the bag. Slowly, she loosened her arms and adjusted her grip so that only a few cans fell into the bag at a time.

She was down to five cans and already congratulating herself for pulling this off when the cans shifted unexpectedly, causing four to fall in the bag while one slipped free and started rolling away. Swearing under her breath, Darci chased after the runaway. The can had a headstart on her and rolled straight towards the cracked basement door.

Don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door.

The can slipped perfectly through the crack and she could hear it start bouncing down the steps.

Well darn.

Darci hesitated at the basement door for a second. Jim hadn’t specifically said that the basement was off limits, but it always felt weird going into new spaces at other people’s houses, especially without explicit permission. It always felt like she was sneaking around.

Berating herself, Daric opened the door and headed down the creaky wooden steps towards where the can had landed at the bottom. Why was she making such a big deal about this, it wasn’t like she was looking at anything private, it was just the basement, not someone’s bedroom or home office. Besides, leaving garbage just laying around someone else’s house was a lot worse than accidentally snooping.

Having reached the bottom of the steps, Darci bent over and wrapped her fingers around the wayward can; but before she could even stand back up, the already dim basement suddenly became much darker.

She let out a squeak and whirled her head in the direction of the door above her. It was shut, but only partially, the narrow line of light was proof of that. Probably just swung shut by itself because of the way the house settled. Darci let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. What was with her today? She really needed to quit being so jumpy.

Adrenaline fading, Darci turned and walked back up the steps towards the door. But three steps from the top she paused, squinting to try and peer through the gloom.

It looked like there was some kind of weird...pattern on the door. Or was there? It was mostly clustered in one area and didn’t look like any kind of decorative pattern she’d seen before. From this distance in the dark she couldn’t really tell.

But there was something on the door, that much she was sure of.

Curious now, Darci came to the topmost step and leaned in close, cracking the door wider to let in more light.

What she’d first thought was an engraved pattern on the door was actually scratches. Dozens upon dozens of overlaying scratches clustered just below the middle of the door. Darci’s eyes flitted across the numerous grooves. These marks didn’t look like a one off thing either. They were so deeply layered on top of each other, something must have scratched this door over and over again for a long time. In fact they looked almost like--

Her heart stopped.

Darci raised a hand up, desperately hoping to be proven wrong as she lined her fingers up with a group of the scratches. To her horror they aligned perfectly.

She realized her fingers were trembling.

“Mary!” she hissed, not wanting to shout but needing someone else to see this “Mary come check this out!”

“What is it?”

“Just get over here!”

Mary’s footsteps came towards the basement as Darci pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall, putting the scratches on full display.

Mary came around the corner, frowning, no doubt unhappy about being called over so hastily. Not even bothering to try and pacify her, Darci worlessly pointed towards the scratches. It took Mary a few seconds to notice what Darci was pointing at, but the instant she did her jaw dropped and her eyes got huge “What the hell is all that?”

Darci lined up her fingers to the scratches to demonstrate “I think these are claw marks,” she whispered “Someone was locked in the basement,”

“Holy shit….” Mary said with hushed incredulity, pulling out her phone and snapping a few pics of the scored wood.

Darci moved from examining the door itself to the knob. She was stunned to see it didn’t have a lock in it, meaning that it should have been impossible for anyone to be locked down there. And the knob matched all the others in the house so it wasn’t likely that a lockable knob had been replaced with a lockless knob.

So why had someone been clawing at a door that shouldn’t have been stopping them in the first place?

Her brain chased itself in circles, trying to come up with a solution to the paradox in front of her. Winding Darci into a tighter and tighter spring of anxiety and confusion, and ultimately getting nowhere.

Maybe a different perspective was what she needed to solve this puzzle.

Stepping fully back up into the hall, Darci shut the door all the way. Glancing at the walls surrounding the door for anything odd. It took her a little while but eventually she noticed something.

Something that would have otherwise appeared more or less normal, if not for what was on the basement door.

An exercise band was hanging on a hook attached to the wall just over a foot away from the door, the hook was exactly level with the doorknob.

Not even realizing what she was doing, Darci lifted the free end of the band, reached over, and looped it over the knob. It fit, but just barely, tension in the band keeping the door firmly shut. Lock or no lock that would keep someone in the basement.

Mary was almost manically snapping more pictures now, shaking hands barely able to hold her phone up “Holy shit holy shit holy shit!” she hissed.

Darci forced herself to reach out and slip the band off the door, needing to see the scratches again, even though their image was already burned into her retinas. To force her brain to accept the fact that what Darci was looking at was real.

Looking at the layers of claw marks again something else clicked.

Something that made Darci start to feel physically ill.

How low they were on the door. How tightly clustered the marks were.

Whoever had been locked in the basement had been tiny .

“Oh my god,” Mary whispered “It was Jim...”

It took Darci a few seconds to actually process what Mary had said “What are you talking about?”

“The weird curfew, the way he freaked out when he was late, what do you think!”

Darci immediately wanted to say something denying that, but all she could do was stand there with her jaw hanging open.

This house looked fairly new, twenty, thirty years old tops. And Jim said he’d lived here since he was born, that still left a ten year gap when someone else lived here and could have left the marks….

No. The marks didn’t look brand new, but they didn’t look thirty years old either. If she had to guess Darci would say they were made about ten years ago. Right about the time Jim would have been in elementary school.

And the hook with the band, those were definitely a recent thing.

A wave of cold dizziness washed over her. Her head was light and her knees went weak. Darci still couldn’t believe this was real, she didn’t want to believe this was real. She was barely aware of Mary looking frantically back and forth between her phone and the door. These things were only supposed to happen to far off strangers on the news and in magazines. Not here right in front of her face, not to someone she went to school with every day.

How had they not noticed-- how had she not noticed? All the weird rules, the crazy hours, why had it taken this long to put it together? And according to Toby this had been going for years, years for crying out loud! How could Jim have lived through years of...this...

Darci was so out of it she barely noticed the sound of footsteps from behind the bathroom door.

Heavy adult footsteps.

Adrenaline surged, snapping Darci out of her state of shock. Lightning fast, she shoved the basement door shut with her left hand and grabbed Mary’s arm with the right. Ignoring her friend’s squawk of protest and yanking her away from the basement. Just before the bathroom door swung open and out came--

“Hi girls, you having fun with your card game?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” Mary said chipperly.

Darci was beyond grateful that Mary could still act casual after what they’d seen. It was all she could do to force a smile on her face and nod, desperately hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“Well don’t mind me, I just came down here because there was a line upstairs,” Dr. Lake flashed them a smile before turning and heading towards the staircase “Now it’s back to bed for me,”

Without warning Mary shoved two mocktail glasses into Darci’s hands, picking up the other three herself “We’ll just grab our drinks and get back to our game,”

Dr. Lake spared them a quick nod as she went up the stairs “Sounds good, and help yourselves to anything you need,”

“Will do,” Mary replied, herding Darci towards the living room.

It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

Standing in front of them in pajamas and slippers, Jim’s mom seemed so nice, so normal , how could she be the type of person who would…

Darci took one final glance at the door as they walked by, catching a brief glimpse of the scratches, confirming that she hadn’t just hallucinated it.

“Don’t worry, I still have the pictures,” Mary whispered, barely audible, into her ear.

Oh. That’s right. Darci was so busy being shell shocked she’d forgotten all about that.

Stepping back into the living room she saw that everyone else was already there and waiting.

“Hey guys,” Toby piped up “You ready to get started”

“Totally,” Mary said while passing out mocktails, if Darci didn’t know better she would have believed the enthusiasm in Mary’s voice was genuine.

“Darci?”

All eyes were on her, expectantly waiting for a reply.

“Yeah...you’d better believe it...”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Mindlessly putting down cards when she was called to, not even bothering to read what was on them.

Mainly she was focused on trying not to stare at Jim. To turn to him and ask why. Why hadn’t Jim said anything, why hadn’t he asked any of them for help? They’d sat next to each other every day at lunch for six months and he’d never let on that any of this was happening. Did he think no one would believe him, or was he scared of what his mom would do if he told? She would have thought that they trusted each other enough by now, so why...

The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth as her teeth cut into her tongue with the force Darci was biting it. If she started now there would be no stopping the flood. Right now Darci just had to get through this afternoon and talk about what she’d seen with Mary later. That meant she needed to stay calm, keep her head on. Not giving in to the urge to scream ‘What the hell?!’ at Jim every time she saw him out of the corner of her eye. And it didn’t help that she had to fight the urge to jump every time she heard Dr. Lake moving upstairs. Not. At. All.

Their game seemed to drag on so long that Darci thought it would never end, but eventually it did, not soon enough and far too early at the same time. She joined the other’s in cleaning up, moving like she was in a fog. Robotically picking up stray cards and putting away dirty dishes. And soon, far too soon, Jim was shutting the door behind them.

What would happen to him now that the door was shut and they were gone?

Toby jogged over to his own house, gazing forlornly at the plastic pail in Claire’s arms as he waved goodbye. Dacri jerkily raised her hand and moved it from side to side in an effort to mirror the gesture. Something that Mary pulled off much better and Claire didn’t even have to fake.

Lucky her.

Claire was the last one to turn away, still beaming and waving at Toby even as they rounded the turn and he vanished from sight..

“I don’t know about you guys, but we need to do that again, before next year,” she paused, no doubt waiting for them to chime in in agreement, but Darci couldn’t speak past the massive knot in her throat. And Mary looked grim and gaunt, no longer maintaining the mask she’d had for the last few hours.

When her friends didn’t reply Claire turned and faced them “Is everything ok? You’ve been pretty quiet all afternoon Darc,”

Mary stopped in her tracks, laying a hand on Claire’s shoulder to halt her as well. Darci stopped right along with them. She glanced towards Darci, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

Claire’s gaze flickered back and forth between them. Mouth crumpling into a frown when she recognized that they were in on a secret she didn’t share “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Claire…” Mary spoke up softly, she looked over at Darci for approval. Darci nodded back at her. Claire deserved to know the truth, but if Darci tried to explain she would just end up crying.

Looking grim, Mary pulled her phone out “Claire, you need to see this…”

#Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #a secret's worth #rmvwrites #darci scott #claire nuñez #jim lake jr #mary wang #toby domzalski #Barbara Lake

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somekindoftuber · 5 years

Text

vld youtuber AU part two (klance)

part one

Lance gets home from spring break with his raw footage and gets right to editing. He’s pretty pleased with how it came out, but he still waits a few days to post it, worried he’ll seem overeager. Shiro posts the video that Lance is in the next week, and he’s so thrilled, it came out great. Keith had been working the camera a bit and Lance sort of wants to thank him for capturing some flattering shots. He quickly posts the video of his song and links Shiro’s channel.

He contemplates sending a follow request to Keith’s locked twitter, but doesn’t. He just met the guy and he doesn’t seem to be the type that opens up easily, and Lance doesn’t want to push his luck.

Flashback to when Lance left Shiro’s garage after filming. Keith is cleaning up and getting ready to lock up the garage when Shiro gives him A Look.

“Lance was nice, don’t you think?”

Keith pauses where he’s sweeping the floor. “He’s alright, I guess.”

Shiro just grins at him.

Things go well after that. Shiro follows Lance back in twitter, and they chat about videos and cat memes. Lance has noticed that Shiro will sometimes disappear off the internet for a few days at a time, but doesn’t pry.

Lance keeps streaming, and starts to occasionally post videos of his streams. He uploads an Overwatch clip where he sang a stupid song over the mic that had his entire team rolling with laughter, and it gets a lot of hits. A few days later, he gets an email, and has to blink a few times. Because it’s from Keith.

Lance,

Thanks for posting that Overwatch video. Shiro was feeling down and it really cheered him up.

-K

And that’s it. And it puts the biggest smile on Lance’s face.

Months go by and things are normal. Lance keeps finding himself looking at Keith in Shiro’s videos, but who can blame him? The guy is hot, and there’s nothing wrong with admiring the view. He hasn’t really spoken to Keith beyond that one email exchange - Lance had sent him a reply that was probably a little too long-winded but whatever - but he doesn’t mind. Too much. That’s what he tells himself.

Pidge calls him out on his bullshit. “You are absolutely crushing on Shiro’s brother,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“I am not.”

But then he mentions it to Hunk on Discord and his oldest friend just laughs at him. “You so are,” Hunk accuses. “Even I can tell.”

Lance just glares into his webcam. So maybe he is. So what? He’s allowed to have a crush. Crushes are harmless. Besides, the guy lives five hours away and Lance doesn’t even know his last name. He’ll eventually get over it and that’ll be that.

Lance gets another opportunity to film with Shiro and he absolutely jumps on it. Shiro invites Lance to stay with them since they have a furnished basement he can stay in for the weekend and he is so excited. It also means he’ll be getting out of Pidge’s hair, since she has some intense projects to finish before the semester is over and needs to focus. So he puts in a time off request at the cafe where he works part time.

Lance packs his bag, his guitar, and all of his filming gear and makes the five hour drive on Friday morning. He only makes one pitstop for snacks and a bathroom break in some tiny town with absolutely no cell signal, then is on his way again.

When he parks on the street in front of Shiro’s place, he checks his phone and panics. Tons of texts. Emails. Twitter DMs. Missed calls. He hadn’t seen them because he was driving, and the one time he stopped, there was no signal. The most recent text is an unknown number:

>Lance this is Keith I got your number from Pidge please call me asap

Shit. Shit shit shit. He calls the number and it picks up after one ring.

“Hello?”

Wow, his voice even sounds nice over the phone. “Uh, Keith? This is Lance.”

“Lance.” There’s a pause. “Um. Where are you?”

Lance looks up at the house. “In front of your house…?”

He thinks he hears Keith curse under his breath. “Okay, I’ll be out in a second.”

Keith sounds tense and Lance is out of his car immediately, shutting the door just as Keith comes out of the small house. He definitely looks tense, shoulder hunched as he marches towards Lance.

“Hey,” Lance greets. “Is everything okay?”

Keith glances around, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Um. Shiro isn’t feeling well. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to film this weekend.”

“Oh.”

They stand there on the sidewalk awkwardly for several minutes. Lance looks down at the phone in his hands. “Sorry,” he tells Keith. “I was driving and didn’t have a signal, so I didn’t see any messages until I stopped just now.”

Keith rubs the back of his neck. “How far did you drive?”

“Harborville,” Lance shifts his weight. “It’s about five hours from here.”

Keith curses again and fiddles with his phone. Lance is starting to panic because he just drove across the state and the place he was supposed to stay is sounding like a no-go and he’s too tired to drive back he doesn’t really have money for a hotel right now —

“Grab your stuff,” Keith says, “and follow me.”

“Uh. You sure?”

Keith’s expression is blank. “Shiro said you could stay, so you can stay.”

Keith ends up helping Lance carry his stuff inside, down to the basement apartment. It’s small but nice, with a tiny bathroom and a back porch that opens up to a wide yard of weeds and grass. Keith gives him the wifi password, then shuffles awkwardly.

“Sorry. You came all this way for nothing.”

Lance looks up. “Oh! Uh, no, it’s okay, things happen.” He puts on a smile. “I’ll find something to occupy myself, and I can get out of here tomorrow.”

The atmosphere is so, so awkward.

“Um.” Keith motions at his phone. “I was gonna order a couple of pizzas. What kind if toppings do you want?”

Lance perks up a little. “Oh man, I’ll eat literally anything. Get whatever you want, I’m good.”

Keith just nods and goes upstairs. Lance uses the bathroom (holy hell that last energy drink was a mistake, he’d been holding it for so long), then answers all the texts he got from everyone that wasn’t Keith. He assures Pidge that he’s fine, explains what happened, and says he will be back tomorrow.

Keith comes back downstairs about a half hour later with two pizza boxes and a couple of bottles of beer. Lance helps him and they go out onto the back porch, where he finally get to meet Kosmo. His mood is instantly lifted, Kosmo is huge and unruly but sweet as can be, and Lance alternates eating pizza and throwing a drool-covered ball across the yard, watching Kosmo dart after it like a freight train. Keith laughs softly.

“Are the cats around?” Lance asks as Kosmo rests his giant head on Lance’s thigh.

“They’re upstairs,” Keith answers quietly. “With Shiro.”

Okay. Guess he’s not meeting the cats this weekend.

They finish off most of the pizzas, Keith saving several slices for Shiro. It gets awkward again. It’s barely sunset and Lance has no idea how he’s going to spend the next twelve hours. Sleep?

“Wanna play some Overwatch?”

Now there’s an idea. “Yeah! I brought my laptop.”

Keith gives him a little half smile, though it seems forced. “I’ll go get mine.”

They set up their laptops in on the coffee table of the little sitting area in the basement, sitting on the carpeted floor. Keith brings down another beer for each of them and they start playing, Lance using an external drive to record because why not. Keith adds him as a friend so they can play together and it’s stupid how much that pleases Lance, even if he gets the feeling that Keith is just humoring him out of guilt. Keith is also a Genji main and that’s not surprising in the least, though he sometimes plays a pretty effective Mei and a devastating Doomfist. Lance sticks to Widowmaker and Ana, and though it takes them a few rounds to find a groove, the end up working surprisingly well together, each getting Play of the Game a few times.

They take a break and Lance ends his first recording to start another while Keith goes upstairs for another round of beer and a box of cookies that they put between them, and then it’s time to really have fun. Lance invites Hunk into the game and they find some gag servers. Lance starts singing his joke songs, making everyone laugh. At one point he darts back to the room where his stuff is to grab his guitar and play it while he sings. He makes up little jingles about player’s screen names until Keith finally chokes on his beer a little, then throws back his head laughing.

And holy shit, Keith has an amazing laugh, his face lighting up and the corners of his eyes crinkling as he snorts a little. Lance keeps singing just to keep hearing him laugh, and finally Keith is hunched over his laptop covering his face because he’s in tears. It’s incredible and Lance thinks that this, right here? This made the five hour drive worth it.

His voice gets too tired to keep singing and Keith looks sleepy, so they agree to call it a night. Keith takes his laptop and says goodnight with a smile that looks genuine. Once he’s in his sleeping clothes and settling into the guest bed, he’s messaging Hunk to gush a little about Keith. Hunk just sends him several eyeroll emojis and tells him to go to bed.

Lance wakes up disoriented and takes a full five minutes to remember where he is, dehydrated and groggy with a headache forming. Right, he’s in Shiro’s basement. He gets up and brushes his teeth, then looks at the stairs. Can he go upstairs? He can smell coffee, and he would do just about anything for some caffeine right now.

He hears a chirp and looks up again. The basement door is open and there’s a fluffy red tabby at the top of the stairs, looking right at him. One of the cats! With a giant grin, Lance creeps up to the top. The tabby backs up, and Lance is out of the basement before he realizes it, crouching on the floor to hold his hand out to the gorgeous cat that sniffs at his fingers.

He’s been petting the cat for several minutes before he realizes he’s in a kitchen, and he’s not alone. Sitting at the little breakfast table in the corner is Shiro, and he looks like hell. Hair a mess, face scruffy, bags under his eyes and wearing rumpled sweats with a blanket draped over his shoulders. But what Lance notices the most is that his prosthetic arm is gone, his right bicep tapering in the middle before it just stops, covered in webs of scar tissue. His chest is dotted with more scars.

Lance stands up. “Shiro?”

Shiro doesn’t respond right away, his eyes sort of vacant as he stares at the wall. Then he turns to look in Lance’s direction and seems to snap to attention.

“Lance,” he says and his voice is rough and tired as he pulls the blanket around himself with his left hand. He looks over to where the coffee maker is on the counter, at the opposite side of the kitchen. “I was just getting some coffee--” Shiro goes to stand but he looks like he’s in pain, favoring one leg.

Lance jumps. “I’ll get it!” he rushes over to the coffee maker and is sort of relieved to see Shiro sit back down in his peripheral. There’s a bunch of mismatched mugs in the glass door cupboard just above the coffee maker, so he pulls out one and fills it.

“Uh.” This is super weird. “Do you want sugar?”

Shiro gives him this tiny little smile. “There’s some hazelnut creamer in the door of the fridge.” he fidgets a little. “You’re welcome to have some too, if you want.”

Lance thinks that might be the best thing he’s ever heard and pours himself a cup, then goes for the creamer in the fridge. He brings the two mugs to the table and sits down across from Shiro, passing him the mug that’s printed with instructions on how to moonwalk. Shiro mutters a thanks and takes a few sips.

Lance nervously drinks his coffee and tries not to freak out. This is definitely not how he expected this weekend to go. The Shiro in front of him was so far removed from the one he knew online - the cool, confident Shiro was a million miles away, replaced by a man that sat at the table and sipped his coffee like he was expecting the roof to collapse on his head any second. It was unnerving, and Lance feels horribly out of place, like he was intruding on something meant to be private.

Before he can say anything, Shiro speaks up. “I owe you an apology.” he looks like he’s struggling. “You came all this way, and I can’t even film with you. I’m sorry.”

Lance does his best to smile. “It’s okay, really, it’s not your fault you got sick.”

Shiro frowns, then slowly lifts a hand to rest on his right shoulder. “I’m not sick,” he says. “It just... Bothers me sometimes.”

His arm. Shiro is a veteran. The pieces click into place.

Shiro explains a little, that his time in active duty changed him. That sometimes he remembers things he doesn’t want to and it’s hard to get past it. He says he’s better now, with therapy and medication, but it’s still difficult sometimes. Sometimes he still shuts down, gets phantom pains.

Lance doesn’t really know how to respond to that, so he just reaches out and pats Shiro’s hand where it’s resting on the table.

The sound of tapping claws makes them both turn, Kosmo rounding the corner panting happily, followed by a half-asleep Keith. And Lance can’t help but grin, because it’s an adorable sight. His hair is wild and poofy and all over the place, shirt slipping off one shoulder and wearing sleep pants that are printed with cats playing jazz instruments. Keith rubs at one eye with the heel of his hand and doesn’t really seem to register either of them, going straight for the coffee maker.

Lance learns that Keith takes his coffee black.

He’s halfway to the table with a steaming mug in his hand before he even realizes Lance is there, then Keith pops awake with a squeak.

“Morning,” Shiro says. Lance shrinks a little in his chair before muttering a “good morning.”

“Uh.” Keith keeps glancing between them. “Good morning.”

Shiro looks unfazed and takes a drink of his coffee. “Lance and I were just having a chat.” He smiles. “What did you two do last night? I heard a lot of laughing.”

Thanking all that is holy that he finally has a conversation topic to break this intensely awkward silence, Lance tells Shiro about their Overwatch game and the songs he made up. Keith snorts a laugh or two over his coffee and Shiro is wearing a genuine smile.

The conversation lulls. “I should probably pack up and hit the road,” Lance says. He tries to hide his disappointment. But Shiro shakes his head.

“No, please, you’re welcome to stay. We can probably get a little filming in tomorrow.”

It’s the best thing Lance has ever heard.

An hour later they’re all showered and dressed and Shiro looks significantly better, his hair combed and face shaved. He’s wearing his prosthetic again, even if he still has dark circles under his eyes. They pile in Shiro’s truck and head to a local bookstore with a cafe attached, and Shiro introduces Lance to Allura, one of his oldest friends.

Lance is struck a little speechless at first because Allura is so beautiful she can’t possibly be real. But she shakes his hand and Lance can’t place her accent but she’s sweet and cordial, sipping on a coffee with a book next to her elbow that’s in another language.

They spend several hours in the cafe just talking about college, YouTube, cats, and their shared friends the Holts. Allura is in grad school studying sociology or something like that (the title was long and complicated and sounded super difficult). Shiro gets up to get another muffin and Keith goes to the restroom, and Allura puts a hand on Lance’s.

“Thank you for caring for Shiro,” she tells him.

Lance is confused. “I didn’t really do anything…?”

But Allura shakes her head. “He’s told me about you and your videos. You make him laugh and have been a friend to him. It means more than you know.”

Lance blushes hot and doesn’t know what to say.

They return to Shiro’s and have a small barbecue, just the three of them and a small charcoal grill, a pile of meat, and a cooler of beer and soda. Lance plays happy songs on his guitar while Keith plays with Kosmo in the yard. Shiro looks so much better than he did that morning, and they trade stories until sunset. Shiro goes to bed and leaves Lance and Keith alone.

They talk into the night as they pick at the last kebob. Keith is still stoic and secretive, but he’s loosened up after a couple of beers and speaks more candidly than Lance has ever heard. About how he and Shiro aren’t related by blood, how he had it rough before Shiro found him. About adopting his dog from a shelter. Little things, too - Keith hates spicy food, is ambidextrous, and is a crossfit trainer. Lance files away all these little bits of information like precious treasure and goes to sleep with them bouncing around his brain.

The next morning, they head to the garage to film. Shiro doesn’t do an intro, still looking sort of tired, but assures that he can do a voice-over later. Lance and Keith trade camera duty as they work on the old chopper. It’s in bad shape and Keith has to bust out the welding equipment at one point. Lance swallows hard and tries to keep the camera steady because that shouldn’t be hot. Keith in a welding mask with a torch shouldn’t be hot but wow. Lance is definitely in trouble here.

They film for hours until Shiro says he’s too tired to keep going, then they pack up and head back to the house. Lance helps cook dinner and Shiro looks relieved, saying that he and Keith can’t cook very well outside of barbecue. They sit around the table and Lance can’t believe he’s there, in Shiro’s kitchen, trading stories with him and his brother like they’re old friends. A few months ago they seemed so untouchable, like celebrities that he looked up to. Now Shiro is laughing so hard he snorts at a story that Lance is telling him. Lance catches Keith’s eye a few times, smiling when he does.

Lance has to head back on Monday morning, and Shiro pulls him into a hug. It has Lance sputtering a little before he hugs back. Shiro whispers a thank you and it’s so sincere and heartfelt that Lance feels his eyes water a little. Keith just clasps his hand, squeezing it tight. No hug, but the look he gives Lance says a million things that he’ll have to sort out later.

For the drive home, Lance puts on his Florence + The Machine playlist and sings until his throat is sore, so happy he feels like his heart could burst.

Continued in part 3!

#text #AUs #youtuber AU

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ladywinchester1967 · 5 years

Text

Perfect

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Female Character

Warnings: SMUUUUT, all of the smut. All porn, no plot in sight.

A/N: I’m VERY SLOWLY getting back into the groove of writing and the picture below was a particular inspiration to me. Said picture (and all the others I’ve used) aren’t mine, I found them on Pinterest (side note: if anyone knows the original artist, please let me know!!)

It was a sweltering August day as she trudged through the compound, sweating like a whore in church after her work out with Natasha.

“You’re getting really good at kickboxing,” Natasha commented “I think once you get the basic technique down, you’ll kick ass with no problems.”

“Thanks Nat,” She said and then walked to her quarters that she shared with Bucky “I’m going to take a shower and meet up with you later okay?”

Natasha nodded and walked off, her red ponytail swinging in her wake. When the door was opened to the suite she shared with Bucky, she was blasted with cold air, which was a nice change from the brutal August heat. Wondering if she’ll accidentally left the AC on too cold, she made her way further in and found a rather intriguing sight waiting for her. Bucky was laying on the couch, sleeping in nothing but his underwear. His flesh arm dangling over the side of the couch, his metal arm propped up on the backrest and his feet dangling over the arm. With his head propped up on a pillow, his mouth hung slightly open as he lightly snored.

At least now she knew why the room was so cold, Bucky hated being hot, he must have returned while she was training with Natasha and passed out while waiting for her. She quickly hopped in the shower and quickly scrubbed down, not waiting to keep Bucky waiting for very long.

Once she was clean, she exited the bathroom and found Bucky exactly where she’d left him. She grinned and then gently pressed her hand against his chest.

“Hm?” Bucky asked sleepily without opening his eyes.

“Bucky, babe, welcome home.” She said as she crouched by his face.

She watched as his eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to her, his flesh hand buried in her wet hair. He grinned, obviously tired, but nonetheless excited to see her.

“Hey doll,” he greeted her and yawned as he opened his arms up to her “c’mere.”

She obliged and climbed on the couch with him. He rolled over so that he was on his side, his back to the door, while she lay with her back against the backrest. They tangled their arms and legs together as he kissed her forehead, grinning.

“When did you get in?” She asked as she let her hands roam up and down his bare back and shoulders.

“An hour ago,” he told her “FRIDAY said you were working out with Nat and I didn’t want to interrupt your session.”

“You can interrupt any time you want,” She told him as she peppered his neck with kisses “especially when I haven’t seen you in a week.”

He let out a low growl and then tilted her face up to his. He pressed his lips to hers as she moaned against his mouth. He tugged on her towel, ridding her of it and throwing it behind the couch, his metal hand deliciously roaming over all of her curves as he deepened the kiss. She hooked her leg over his hips and rolled on top of him, her hips rolling into his.

“Fuck doll,” he muttered as she repeated the action “you miss me or something?”

“Or something.” She teased as her nipples pebbled up from the friction and the cold air in the room. She leaned over him and heatedly kissed him as his hands slid up her sides and back. His thumbs flicked over her nipples, making her moan and sigh against his lips as the hardened buds stood at attention. Bucky sat up and took her left nipple in his mouth, his lips sealing around the flesh. She squirmed as his tongue lazily stroked over the pink bud.

“Bucky, oh Bucky.” She breathed as his metal hand curled around her hip and then slid between them, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb flicking over it as he pushed his pointer and middle finger inside of her, making her gasp.

“Oh fuck!” She cried.

She felt him grin against her skin as his fingers matched the pace of his tongue, slow and tantalizing. She sighed, burying her hands in his hair and arching into him as he switched to her other nipple and continued the slow pace of pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“Bucky,” she whined “oh fuck, Bucky please. Faster.”

He looked up and tutted at her.

“I’m gone one week and you suddenly forget who’s in charge here.” He said with a glint in his eye “What happens to bratty girls?”

“Bratty girls don’t get to come.” She answered automatically, immediately backing down. Being edged by a super soldier who had enough patience that would make a saint jealous was no fun. He smirked up at her and continued his lazy pace.

“Be a good girl,” he told her “and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Yes sir.” She answered as his fingers curled into her g-spot, making her gasp and throw her head back. “Oh god, fuck!”

“That’s it,” he growled and planted open mouth kisses all over her chest “just like that doll.”

She moaned as he made the “come here” motion with his fingers and she whined loudly.

“Oh Bucky, Bucky!” She cried as she squeezed the metal digits tightly inside her.

His thumb found her swollen bundle of nerves and flicked over it, making her squirm even harder. She dug her nails into his shoulders as her hips thrust into his hand. She moaned and cried out swears and murmurs on his name as the tip of his tongue traced the dip in her throat.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned “you’re so close. You wanna come for me?”

“Please!” She begged, her thrusts becoming erratic, the knot in her lower belly threatening to snap at any second.

“Come,” He growled “soak my hand.”

A cold chill ran up her spine and spread through the rest of her body as she cried out, letting go hard, her nails sinking deeper into her shoulders. He pulled his fingers out of her and held them up, her arousal coating his metallic digits.

“Suck.” He commanded.

She nodded, took his wrist in her hands, opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers and gave them a hard suck. He licked his lips as her tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting her own tanginess. She opened her eyes and made eye contact with him as she made a show of sucking the last bits of herself off of his fingers. He pulled his hand away from her mouth, grabbed the back of her head and heatedly kissed her. She hummed in appreciation as he rolled her onto her back below him. She held his face in her hands and used her feet to push his underwear down, his painfully hard cock springing free. He took them off the rest of the way and immediately pushed inside her. She cried out with the sudden breach, her fingers tangling in his dark locks. His hips slowly began to move as she arched her back and moaned into his mouth.

“Bucky, oh god, Bucky!” She murmured as he started to kiss her neck and nibble on her flesh.

He hooked his arms behind her knees and opened her up wide as his pace picked up. She squirmed and cried out under him, her breasts bouncing with each slap of his flesh hitting hers.

“Fuck,” he moaned “you’re a fucking sight baby.”

“Bucky, Bucky!” She screamed as she clawed at the pillow and couch cushions. Without warning, he flipped her over onto her stomach, yanked her up by her shoulder so that she was on her knees, her back to his chest. He pushed back inside her before taking her chin in his hand and making her look at him. He kissed her as he restarted his languid pace, his tongue tracing over hers. He pulled back and then made her look in the mirror that was just adjacent to the couch. In the reflection was the two of them, her flesh on full display as he placed his hands on her hips. He had at least a head’s worth of height on her and his broad shoulders showed in the mirror as she bit her lip.

“Look at you,” he moaned in her ear “fucking perfect.”

He let his hands glide all over her body as he kissed and bit the juncture between her neck and shoulder. She placed her hands over his and followed his pattern. They made eye contact in the mirror and he gave her the mischievous smirk that she loved.

“All mine.” He said as he lightly wrapped one hand around her throat, but didn’t squeeze.

“Mh, Bucky!” She moaned “Yes, all yours.”

He turned her face to his once again and kissed her. He then bent her over the arm of the sofa and picked up the pace, slamming his hips into her backside as she held on, crying out loudly.

“Fuck!” He yelled as he tightly held her hips and felt her squeeze him hard. “Oh you’re ready aren’t you baby?” He asked “You ready to come for me?”

“Please!” She begged “Please may I come?!”

“Good girl,” he said “yes-FUCK-you can come.”

The wave of pleasure came crashing down over her as she let go, her eyes lifting up just in time to see Bucky throw his head back and cry out loudly as he emptied deep into her.

They both collapsed on the couch, laying on their sides as he held her against his chest, feeling her heart pound against his hand.

»»————-　♔　————-««

“Baby?” He asked and her eyes fluttered open.

“Hm?” She asked with a sweet smile on her face.

“You okay?” He asked “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

She shook her head, no, and pushed his sex tangled hair behind his ear.

“No babe, it was perfect.” She told him in a serene tone before gently kissing him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys enjoyed that!! Your kind feedback is always deeply loved and appreciated, don’t forget to like and share with your friends and followers. Maybe hit that “follow” button if you feel so inclined?

Bucky Barnes:

@loudherobanditgarden @hellrose45 @hyunjoonieeuniverse @booboo-icu@mogaruke @mogarukes @lets-love-little-me @clo-heda@marvelousbarnesss @marvelousbarnes @roonyxx @algud @your-average-wallflower @emoryhemsworth @gabcats5

#lady winchester writes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x ofc

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bri-rog-deak-fred · 5 years

Text

In Good Company

(Part 2)

brian may x reader : reader’s the 5th member of queen, and she sleeps with brian when they were both drunk and she finds out she’s pregnant half way through a tour, causing her to try to hide the pregnancy from everyone, especially brian. rock stars can’t have babies, right?

Note: this is PART TWO of the In Good Company series!! i’m overwhelmed by the positive reactions from everyone, in so glad you like it!! i’m currently working on parts 3 and 4 and maybe even a bonus 5th if i get to it, as for now, enjoy!! plus there’s some John Deacon x Reader if you really squint 😅🕊

PART TWO:

Minutes passed, you still stood in the bathroom, whole body numb. You couldn’t tour while pregnant. What would the fans think? What would the press and media say? What would the boys say? What would Brian think? You breathed heavily, trying to calm down and hopefully make sense of the situation. You were only on tour for about 3 more months, which wasn’t all too bad. Seems like if you truly were pregnant, you had to have been about a couple of weeks along, enough for things to stay and continue to develop, obviously. By the time tour was over, it would be easy to then tell Freddie and the boys and maybe just give the baby up for adoption. You couldn’t care for a child. Life touring and on the road with no support was hard enough without the extra stress of having a child to care for as well. As for now, you decided to stay quiet. It would be best for everyone. You agreed with yourself a little, feeling better, hoping your plan would go as you hoped.

Suddenly you heard a knock at the bathroom door. A yawn follows and you couldn’t help but giggle silently to yourself. Brian, sleepy, adorable Brian was standing on the other side of the door.

“Y/N/N, sweetheart, are you okay?” He asked, tired voice quiet.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m fine. Be out in one moment!” You said, voice a little too cheery for your own taste.

Brian noticed but didn’t want to say anything.

You quickly wrapped the test in some toilet tissue and disposed of it in the trash bin, covering up the evidence with tissues. You opened the door, smiling to Brian.

“Good morning Brian. Why are you up so early? We have a show tonight.” You glanced at his gloomy eyes and messy wild curls.

“I woke up and you weren’t in the bed. I thought maybe you’d gotten sick again. How are you feeling today?” He asked, yawning. He stretched his arms above his head, shirt riding up over his hip bones and showing off his little tummy. “I’m alright. Doin’ alright.” you sang, loving how you made Bri’s eyes roll in his head. The sudden jolt of your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You’re pregnant, you thought and your nerves grew even more ferocious. Your smile fell for a moment as you climbed back into bed.

Brian chuckled as he watched you snuggle deep into the pillows and blankets, rejoining you. You could feel his body heat from how close he was, and you swore he could hear how fast your heart was beating. The under lying guilt of not telling him anything was just enough to suppress for now.

He clambered in to the covers and you watched him lazily try to readjust the pillows.

“Bri?” you spoke up after a few moments, voice small and drenched in sadness.

He frowned and lifted the blankets to find you. His hazel eyes scanned your face, inquiring about what was going on inside your head.

“You alright?” He asked, voice ever so soft and careful. He was your best friend, he knew you better than almost anyone. Not Freddie though, but he had that gift to him.

“Could you hold me?” You asked, voice wavering up and down.

He gave it a moment, thinking to himself momentarily before he silently nodded and as you turned over in the bed, you felt his arms wrap securely around your waist.

“Whatever’s going on in your beautiful little head, it will be over soon. You can talk to me about anything, sweetheart.” He mumbled gently and you responded by nuzzling up against his chest, not letting him see the tears come to your eyes.

“Brian... I...” You began but couldn’t finish.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” He started, hearing the wetness in your voice. “What’s the matter? Shushhh. It’ll be alright, okay? there’s no need to worry over everything. It’s okay my love.” He cooed and held you tight, rocking you silently.

You found no courage to answer him, you could only let yourself cry for a moment, especially after he called you his love.

A few long moments passed and your tears subsided. You quietly fell back asleep, enjoying Brian’s warmth more than anything.

Brian sighed heavily, unsure of what was happening. After that night you two had slept together, it was if nothing had happened between you two. Roger wouldn’t stop bugging him about asking you out, so much so that he almost took it upon himself to crack his drumsticks a few times. He felt confused, wanting more with you, but he was unsure of how you truly felt, not even knowing if you had remembered that night at all.

He soon heard your breathing even out and you had fallen limp against him and he slowly got up, blowing out a saved breath. He ran his hands through tangled curls, wishing he could do more for you than just watch and listen.

Brian decided maybe he should get up and get ready too, then at least you both could talk about it once you woke up from your little morning nap.

You had fallen asleep for about an hour or so. When you woke up, you felt fine for once, getting up and stretching out your sore body. Brian wasn’t in the room. He must of been getting breakfast. Just then, your stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of eating, so you found yourself coming down to the lobby, finding your boys and getting some food in your system.

Days turned to weeks and before you knew it, the tour was coming to a close. There was no doubt that something fishy was happening with you. The boys noticed immediately when you began to turn down drinks and the occasional smoke with Roger. Or that you stopped giving so many hugs and seemed to turn away at anyone touching you, scared they’d figure out the truth. It was as if the night you got sick something switched in your head and you were suddenly a more healthy person. As much as they worried, they noticed you looked a lot more healthier. Your face was fuller and such a blushed color at all times. Brian wouldn’t admit, but the way your chest seemed to blossom was sending him very terrible thoughts. Your skin was so peachy and your hair so shinny, he thought maybe he was imagining things. Or that you smelled even more incredible than you do before.

Hiding the pregnancy from John and Freddie was hardest of all. John had a child already, he knew what pregnancy was like for his wife and he could tell something was different with you. You seemed to carry yourself a little more slowly and your hips swayed a little more than usual, making him wonder what you had been up to.

Freddie of course was worst of all. You constantly had to hide your body, your stomach seeming to grow a lot more than you had expected. Your constant costume changes were throwing off his groove, since some nights he’d pick things for you both to match in.

You stood in your dressing room with Freddie, arguing about an outfit he had chosen that was extremely skin tight. Before your stomach began to grow, you wouldn’t have minded. It was nice having something so tight to dance on the stage in, but there was no way you could wear it in your condition.

Dressed in a loose peasant top and flared jeans, you tossed your hair to the side and huffed at the pants Freddie had wanted you to wear.

“Please, isn’t there something else I could try, Fred. What about that white top you had made, the long tunic one!” You suggested.

“No.” Freddie turned and put his hands on his hips. “You wore that the last three concerts. It’s getting old and tacky. We were supposed to have correlating outfits, dear, not a billowy pillow case.”

You grumbled to yourself.

“I just don’t feel comfortable wearing these. They’re tight.” You said rolling your eyes. there was no way the trousers would even try to button with your protruding stomach.

“Since when are you so prudish?” Freddie suddenly fired.

“What? I’m not being prudish!” You we’re taken aback by his sudden snobbiness.

“Y/N, darling, you used to wear such daring, minxy outfits. You were starting to set off trends. Now it’s all of a sudden it’s oversized this and that. It’s not a good look on your darling. This is rock and roll! Plus those tits you’ve gotten are a gift you shouldn’t keep locked away.”

Suddenly you felt very self conscious and aware of your body. You hated how round you looked and felt. You felt your eyes water and you swallowed hard. Before Freddie could apologize, you stormed out of the room, finding Brian and Roger’s shared room. “Do any of you have anything I can wear tonight?” You asked, beginning to rummage through clothing racks of the concert clothes they’d both collected. You settled on an old black woven peasant blouse from Roger’s clothes and decided that you’s just have to wear your own leather leggings with some flashy boots maybe. Freddie came into the room, gasping at the audacity you had to find another outfit.

“Put that back!”

“No!” you shouted, tears still threatening to spill out of your eyes.

“You are not wearing that!” Freddie cried out, grin threatening to split his face.

Roger began laughing, but Brian began to stand, wanting whatever was happening to settle down before anyone’s true feelings got hurt.

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine, Fred. I won’t wear it.” You say, a little breathless.

“Good.” He smiled softly.

“I’m not performing tonight.” You respond in a snarky tone.

“Wh-Wait a goddamn minute. You’re not performing over an outfit?” He raised a single eyebrow, and you knew he was pissed.

you stood your ground, Brian eyeing you up worriedly.

“Let me wear what i feel comfortable in and that’ll be that.” You counter offer, holding the hanger with the blouse on it as it it were a deadly gun in an old fashioned shoot out.

“What’s the matter with what I picked.” He asked, Roger silent. Deaky had now entered the dressing room, watching what was happening.

“Nothing’s the matter Fred.”

“Then wear it.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because... Because they won’t fucking fit me okay? I’ve gained weight. Now just let me wear what I’d like, Freddie.” You hissed, feeling rather embarrassed that you had to say that in front of your closest friends for him to finally drop the subject.

John looked to your face, feeling your sad emotions it seemed. You saw Roger trying not to laugh at the ridiculous situation, and you hadn’t dared look at Brian scared he’d notice too much.

“Just get me 10 minutes before the start. I’ll be in my dressing room.” You let out a shaky sigh and excused yourself from the room feeling the eyes of the boys on your figure as you left.

You went to you dressing room, sitting in front of your mirror and looking back at your face. You rubbed your eyes, and sighed, feeling defeated by your emotions yet again. You hadn’t noticed that your door had been opened and that John stood very quietly by it. He cleared his throat, making you jump.

“Sorry John, I don’t think this is the best time to talk-“ You began.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

You met his eyes in the mirror and closed your own tight, letting out a deep breath. A moment passed before you decided to say anything more.

“What makes you think i’m pregnant-“

“You argued with Freddie over clothing you picked out. You always think his style is much better than yours most of the time. You haven’t smoked or had alcohol with any of us since you got sick. You look softer. If i didn’t say any better, or know you any better, i’d say you were pregnant, and have been for a while.” John smiled warmly, voice ever so thoughtful and quiet.

“So what if I am?” you grew cold and defensive quite quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” He worried, not leaving his spot by the door.

You took in a quiet breath, feeling your throat swell closed.

“We wouldn’t still be on tour... you all would’ve sent me home. Touring while pregnant or even having a baby is a rough life. I’m sure you know that.” You sniffled as you turn to face him in your chair.

John looked to his shoes and let out a huff. He did know. He wanted more than anything for his wife and baby boy to be along side him, but the constant moving and driving was a bad toll for anyone.

He moved closer to you and took your hand, helping you stand.

“Do you know who the father is?” He asked, no judgement in his voice at all.

You gently nodded and bit your cheek.

“Brian is the father.”

John smiled a little bit more, feeling relieved by the answer regardless.

“You know, he’s always wanted to be a dad. I’m sure he’d ask you to marry him the second he knew you were having his baby.” Deaky chuckled light heartedly.

“I’m afraid he might not even remember sleeping with me in the first place.” You confessed, feeling your chest tighten at the thought that you still had to tell Brian.

“None the less. We have a week left out here before we head for home. Soon you can get everything situated for the little one.” He smiled and looked down to your stomach, even though it was hidden.

You couldn’t help but feel grateful for Deaky’s trusting nature and nurturing persona. “How far along are you, love?” He asked, excited for you. He loved children and babies, and he certainly was going to love yours just as much as his own.

You chuckle a little bit and take a step back. It felt weird to do so, but you cradled your bump through your shirt, showing him just how big your belly had gotten in just a few weeks. “Should be around 20 weeks, if i calculate that right.”

His eyes widen and he giggled helplessly. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from everyone! You look so stunning! Truly incredible!” He said warmly, taking your shoulders gently as a very light comfort to you.

“I know. It’s hard for me too. Though it seems I don’t have anything to wear for the upcoming closing concerts.” You shook your head, remembering the silly argument.

“Don’t listen to Freddie. He can be a prick sometimes. You know that.” John replied quickly. You began to laugh between the two of you and you shook your head. “So can I.” You sigh, feeling awful for hiding what was going on, but at least John could understand.

“What am I going to do?” You asked.

“I think you should talk to Brian about this. Then the rest of us. I can act surprised again, if you’d like.” John joked and ran a hand through the top of his hair.

“I really should. Thank you John.” You smiled and for the first time in a rather long while, you pull him into a hug, not caring that your stomach was between the both of you. He held you back firmly for a moment, before you jumped and looked down to your midsection.

You pull away and gasp, hands flying to your stomach. “Whoa...” You said softly, feeling it again.

John looked to where your hands were holding on your stomach and felt his heart skip a beat. “Did the baby just kick?” He asked.

“I-I think it just did... Oh! It’s doing it again!” You say, feeling the flutter inside your body, so you gently take John’s hand and guide his fingers to where the tiny foot kicked under your skin. He had the biggest smile on his face as he, too felt the baby flutter within.

“Oh my goodness... Oh my god...” You said, unable to comprehend the kicks.

“Incredible, Y/N.” John whispered, unable to stop smiling from excitement for you.

After standing for a moment and the kicks began to fade, John bid you adue before he started to get ready for the show. And you knew your secret was safe with him.

You had also decided to find Freddie and apologize for making such a fuss, while he profusely apologized for making you feel uncomfortable and that you weren’t fat and that your body was very welly filled out and gorgeous too. He let you wear the black flowy top and suggested a sparkly long shawl over, so it looked like you had wings made of the starry night sky with leather leggings and some groovy white heeled boots.

“You do look fabulous in almost anything, don’t you Y/N.” He chuckled, looking at you in your outfit, happy as ever that the shirt hid your bump. “Oh hush, You’re trying to make me feel better because I’m not as hot in this outfit. You know, I’m not looking for anyone in the crowd. I’m pretty satisfied with a guitarist we have on stage.”

Freddie went nuts, pretending to be Brian, and you playing your over dramatic self.

After laughing like fools, you got your hair and makeup done before final sound checks just as soon as a concert would began yet again. Tonight you were playing guitar so your stomach was always hidden, and you could sit on a barstool if need be. The energy that night was fantastic between everyone on stage. There was never a dull moment and you haven’t played as well in a good moment. Brian even let you lead ‘39 that night on guitar and you swear you couldn’t be happier. Deaky seemed extra keen, dancing with a little more spunk than usual. Roger screamed more than normal and that caused everyone in the room to feel even more rowdy. At the end of the set, You and Brian ended up having a playful solo battle, and your guitars were almost grinding on each other in a playful fight. All of your worries had gone and you were riding a generous high supplied by letting your secret out. You felt as though you were dancing on air, pleasing the crowd and your boys.

“Thank you everyone! Goodnight!” You shouted out as you began to exit the stage, feeling sore already from dancing and moving in ways you knew you really shouldn’t try to do while in your state, but you felt more happy than you did at the beginning of the tour.

You felt Deaky’s supportive arm looped under yours and escorted you back stage as the rest of the boys followed suit.

“Was that wicked or what?!” Roger excitedly shouted, flipping his head back and mauling the rest of the boys with a huge hug.

“Y/N, the guitar battle was brilliant!” Brian said excitedly, patting your back and ruffling your hair. “I had to save everyone from the same 13 minute long solo you’ve been doing, Bri.” You chuckle and gain a goofy grin as Freddie laughs with you.

“Everyone did brilliant tonight. Best show yet and it’s not even the finale!” Freddie said as he sauntered to a roadie and suddenly appeared with a champagne bottle, popping it open in the most sexual way and spraying it all over everyone. It was something that was straight out of your dreams.

Late after the boys came back from the bars, you decided to stay back and shower, wanting a good head start to the day tomorrow since you all were leaving the hotel you were staying at and continuing touring on the bus.

As you shower, you start to get dressed and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, dressed in just your night shorts and unbuttoned night shirt. Thankfully, you had your own room, but you knew the boys would probably bust in the door any moment. They were drinking anyways, they’d be gone for a little longer.

You starred at your reflection, trying to button your sleep-shirt fully over your rounded middle but found no luck, so you kept it open, dancing a little in the mirror and checking out your curves. You had to admit, pregnancy did look good on you. You run your hands over your stretched sides and sighed heavily. “Oh dear, how am I going to tell Brian about you.” You hummed quietly to the bump.

You snuffed a yawn from yourself and looked at your pile of things that were all packed and found your run down acoustic guitar, deciding that playing something sweet might let your soul calm before you decided to say anything to anyone. Right now it was just you alone, and that’s how you wanted it to be.

You took your guitar and rested back in your bed, propped up with as many pillows as you could find. It was a little hard to play the right chords from your little ‘obstruction’ but you managed and began to sing a soft little melody to your ever growing middle.

“Take good care of those you call your own, and keep good company”

You strum the guitar gently, humming along softly, you felt a flutter at your side and pressed a hand to it, smiling graciously. You still had to decide what was going to happen after the baby was born, whether you’d decide to keep it or give it for adoption should Brian or anyone else in the band disown you for it. Your future was a little unsure and you could feel the guilt riding up your spine again.

You had plenty of time to think about it, so you shook the thoughts away and continue to play, closing your eyes and singing sweetly and softly.

You didn’t notice however, that the Brian, Roger, Freddie, and John had all come back from the bar. You didn’t notice that you left your door unlocked, and you really didn’t notice that Brian had let himself in and was now starring at you and your exposed pregnant belly, with wide eyes and a pale face, expression worried, and confused.

“Y/N?” You hear Brian say, voice barely above a whisper.

(let me know if you wanna be added to the) Tag list: @sleep-paralysis-demon @mazzello-lee-jones-malek @t0r @geek-and-proud

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hardeepcox · 6 years

Text

The Chronicles of Hardeep Cox - Bangkok pt 1

Intro

Hi my name is Hardeep Cox, I may or may not be a guy born to an Indian mom and a white guy from Boston in the DMV area. Then again I may or may not be just an extremely immature adult with a ridiculous sense of humor. Quick warning: if you are easily offended then I suggest you just exit this shit right now and idk go watch cable tv or something.

I am writing this as we prepare for our first legit night out in Bangkok, as I and a dude named Paper awkwardly wait for my dad to finish showering so we can head out. Tonight’s destination is Above Eleven, but I’ll explain more later on. Let’s begin with our arrival.

Flight and Night 1

After about 20 hours of flying we met up with Paper, our guide/family friend (on my dad’s side). Paper picked us up from the airport and helped us hail a cab. My first impression of Bangkok when I stepped outside of the airport was that it seemed so similar to Los Angeles, I guess because of the weather and vegetation. Anyways, the cab dropped us off at the Doubletree where an enormous wooden figure of a football (soccer) sat in the lobby. To my unbelievable surprise, it turned out that Paper was actually going to be staying in the hotel room with us because he lives outside of the city (my dad of course manages to leave out important details like this when planning trips). Because of the timezone change we were hungry upon arrival, at 3 in the damn morning. So we did what any idiot American tourist would do, we went to 7 Eleven. I had to accept the fact that chili and cheese quarter pounders would no longer be an option, so I went with the spicy basil rice and fish sauce. I gotta say that it was pretty good, even though it was spicy as hell. After crushing my first meal in Thailand, we did our best to sleep for the next couple of hours.

Day 1

Sleep deprived but feeling ready to roll, we got ready and headed downstairs for breakfast. The buffet included the usual American stuff, sushi, dim sum, and some freshly made Thai dishes.The dim sum was by far my favorite, and today it was Chinese egg tarts.

We went to some Buddhist temples, hundreds of years old. There were so many Chinese tourists, and so many lame pictures being taken by them (sitting down in lotus position next to a statue of the Buddha, a chick looking dramatically and diagonally down at the floor while her boyfriend takes a picture for her instagram and you KNOW she’s gonna add some kind of bullshit philosophical caption to it). It was hard to get into the spiritual groove with all these tourists, and the only places where I could feel peace was in the praying rooms where I wish that I could have stayed longer. The best part was the Wat Phra Ram, literally the place where they filmed one of my favorite childhood movies Mortal Kombat. It was totally unexpected and spontaneous, the most interesting part about it was the dog that had managed to sneak up into the actual ruins and seemed to be searching for something at a calm pace. My pathetic attempts to whistle loud enough for the dog to hear me led me to run around the ruins hoping to catch a glimpse of it. I heard it howl a couple of times after that and I’ll always wonder why, maybe its spirit led it to the ruins to discover a link to a past life. Who knew I would have accidentally stepped into the Netherealm, but too bad I couldn't meet Raiden, Shang Tsung, and Liu Kang's dead brother (if you don't get this reference please find a time machine and go back in time to 1995, break into a Hollywood video, steal a copy of Mortal Kombat, watch it, go back into the time machine, return to the present time, and punch yourself in the fucking face).

Tired as hell we walked around markets near the Chao Phra Ya river, they were pretty generic developing country markets and I was extremely tired so I just wanted to go back to the hotel and pass out. We tried some sticky rice dessert that was pretty good so we bought some, and my dumbass ate my entire portion in the cab and felt even more like a piece of shit after. We made a stop for some roadside Pad Thai, it was delicious but again I was exhausted. Back in the cab again I pretty much passed out from exhaustion.

Night 2

I woke maybe 45 minutes later still in the cab but the sun was setting and the nocturnal city was coming alive. Suddenly it dawned on me that we had to be in Chinatown and my street-mode immediately turned on. After driving us through some beautifully sketchy streets, our cab driver dropped us off at a main road. All the lights made it look like it was an attempt at giving it a times square feel. I was now totally awake and ready for more exploring, and after walking for a bit we walked by a Chinese restaurant (Chinatown in Bangkok is an extremely fast-paced environment full of beautiful chaos, if you can’t keep up you might as well stay in your comfy apartment and drink lattes or something). The menu had so many choices, but no combination fried rice, general tso’s chicken, or lo mein (at this point I realized that I should just forget about these options because I’m not gonna find this delicious diabetes-maximus anymore). I got the egg noodles with roasted duck for $2, and the portion was just right for me since I was still full from that sticky rice and exhausted from the jetlag. Before the food coma took over, we took a tuk tuk to the nearest metro train station and made our way back to the hotel. The metro was actually very organized and technologically advanced, the DC metro could learn a thing or two from it. Because of the timezone change, the beers, sticky rice, and random stuff that I had eaten, I hadn’t really used the bathroom all day. Walking from the metro to the hotel at some point became truly difficult and I had tell myself just breathe man don’t shit yourself on your first night in Bangkok goddammit.

Now back at the hotel and totally relieved, our night actually began.

Nocturnal Adventure

We started out at the Queen Bee, a little bar across the street with shitty mojitos but a damn good blues band. From there we went to a place that my dad would not stop mentioning, Above Eleven, a local Peruvian restaurant. Probably one of the coolest restaurants that I’ve honestly ever been to. This was some upper class bougie shit as the kids say, but the view of the city was breathtaking and the food was absolutely delicious (and I am a picky fuck when it comes to flavors). The Peruvian food was authentic, the Pisco Sour was legit, and we got to meet Chef Omar Frank Maruy. Chef Maruy is the Japanese-Peruvian chef in charge of keeping the food quality at Above Eleven at its exquisite level. After downing a few Pisco sours, and devouring a few dishes (ceviche, jalea, and anticucho) we made our way to Havana Social. I could tell this place was throwing a good party as we walked to the entrance which was a random door in an alley with working girls in the corner. Too bad some of us were wearing shorts so we were ultimately denied entrance. Bummed out we walked to the nearest bar, Oskar, and had Lavender Pisco Sours. Seriously so creative and surprisingly delicious!

After downing these drinks we basically gave up and made our way back to the hotel. Maybe like 5 minutes away from the hotel we walked past a really sketchy alley and I shit you not, my dad says “let’s go into a small street shithole bar!” He’s already walking towards it so Paper and I say fuck it and we join him, plus I mean come on I gotta watch my dad’s back since hookers have been flirting with him for the past 25 minutes. We walk in and of course all these chicks are so psyched to see us, a very pretty hostess welcomes us so we sit at the bar and get some Tiger beers. With Youtube as our DJ, we start sipping on beers and my dad is just having a blast with these two chicks. They try to flirt with me but I’m like meh, I’ve honestly seen hotter escorts in Lima. Then one of them says, “I’m gonna bring my sister for you.” I’m like ok cool whatever, totally unimpressed as I watch my dad party at this little bar. This chick brings the pretty hostess over and introduces her as her “sister”, and I notice dude this girl is actually super cute and obviously not an actual escort. Me and her are both like uhh… hi? She’s not sure how to interact with idiot foreigners, but I can tell and I am just my usual super chill self with her. She gets a jack and coke, and I continue sipping on my Tiger. Her name is May, I was like “is it pronounced like the month May, or is it Mai like my?” She looked at me like if I was a dumbass but she was playful about it, and I start crushing on this chick because I mean duh I am a fucking idiot and I do shit like this. This all ended with a bill of almost $200 USD, an escort angry at us for not taking her back to our hotel, and me DJ’ing some old school reggaeton on their Youtube. As we made our way back to the hotel we ran into into girls selling booze on the sidewalk in what seemed like the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo but cut in half the long way, and the girls turned the bottom half of the car into a mini-bar. As I took a whiz on a street corner, Paper points out that dude there is a toilet at this mini-bar on the sidewalk! I look behind a little curtain next to the mini-bar and there is in fact a toilet there, I mean not connected to any plumbing or anything, just literally a tiny toilet placed on the sidewalk. Did I whiz into this tiny toilet like 20 minutes later? Yes. Did I drink a few too many rum and cokes at this sidewalk mini-bar? Yes. Did I have any idea of what the hell to expect the next day? Hell no.

Night 3 - Let’s try not to die tonight shall we?

I’m skipping to Night 3 because the highlight of Day 2 is just me holding a lemur (by the way lemurs are freakin adorable and they have actual fingers and thumbs!), and realizing that my dad should move to the Thai countryside cuz he is actually genuinely happy there (he greeted random people from a canoe, including a naked fat guy who was in the middle of a soapy bath in the river).

On Night 3 we make another attempt at Havana Social (if there ever is a place with reggaeton and Cuban rum then you’ll probably find me there). The entrance is the #1 coolest that I have seen in my life so far, some dude gives you a code and you punch it into an old phone-booth, this then unlocks an old door next to it which you push open and find a little piece of Havana hidden within Bangkok. So there I am doing my thing downing Cuba Libres, dancing, and laughing at tourists dancing like idiots when I notice three pretty cute chicks dancing near us. I am not the most extroverted dude, but when I hear Latin music the beast is then awakened and I just let it take me places. So I slither over to these girls and pull off some of my signature moves, including one borrowed from my grandpa which I call the Egyptian knife hands. One of the chicks starts dancing with me and my first thought is “wow my dad is watching me spit some legit game, now I AM THE MASTER!” But anyways yeah we dancin and shiet. Suddenly she asks if I wanna go with her and her friends to another club, I thought it was a bad idea but the rum and Daddy Yankee had me saying “yeah screw it let’s go.” The four of us leave the club and somehow fit into a tuk tuk that says VIP on the seat and one of the girls say it’s free! RED FLAG - free shit usually comes with a price later on, and these girls seemed way too excited to have me along. One of the girls pulls out a wrapper with a bunch of pills and puts one in my mouth, my first thought is oh fuck I’m about to get roofied, or flooried, dammit Zack Galifianakis! I pretend to swallow the pill, then I look over into the street and spit this shit out. The girl is like are you feeling okay? I’m like yeah I’m great (meanwhile internally trying to think of an escape plan without freaking out)! We get to this club called Mixx, and this party is poppin. Every tourist is dancing with a local, and I’m thinking wow is every girl at a club in Bangkok an escort… like every single damn one?! My phone only has internet if there is wifi, and I tell the girl that I wanna call my friends to come but I need the wifi password so she hooked me up with her hotspot. Instead of figuring out how to use the wifi to escape, I’m in the bathroom FB messaging my friends back in the states how I almost got roofied and that I’m probably gonna die cuz I mean that is a brilliant idea right? I go back out there and one of the girls goes “if you wanna hang out with me it’s gonna be 3000 baht (like almost $100 USD).” Since I don’t wanna die I go “okay sounds good, let’s hang out every day this week okay?” Her eyes brighten up and she has a huge smile on her face, she tells her friend who then makes a face like “we did it bitch!” I’m thinking okay thank god I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow in a tub full of ice with my internal organs missing because they wanna take all my money throughout the week. Suddenly the Thai DJ starts playing the cumbia song “Colegiala”, and it was at this exact moment that I knew that everything would be okay! I stopped freaking out and danced the night away, didn’t sleep that night, and somehow found a really nice cab driver to take me back to my hotel afterwards (he charged me 300 baht but had no change so I just gave him my 1000 baht bill, really nice guy and really grateful). Yep definitely not doing that again, from now on I will assume every chick at a club in Bangkok is an escort. If you are asking yourself if I hit up that girl again to hang out and continuously pay her $100 USD throughout the week, the answer is dude of course not wtf.

#bangkok #party #hangover #zack galifianikis

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leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid · 6 years

Text

Drowning

Pairing: Jared X Reader

Word Count: 2451 (including lyrics)

Warnings: Angst, fire, smoke inhalation, death, just so much pain

Summary: Jared’s confused by the things around him that you don’t seem to notice or even react to.

Author’s Note: Written for mine and @kayteonline‘s Birthday Backstreet Boys Bash. Kayte let me pick my song which was Drowning. It went a little sideways and I’m sorry if this love song is now ruined forever. Inspired by squares on my angst bingo card I received for my Wincest sideblog. So thanks to them for making my brain live on the dark side. Italics are Jared’s pov and bold is lyrics

/Don’t pretend you’re sorry/I know you’re not/You know you got the power/To make me weak inside/And girl you leave me breathless/But it’s ok/‘Cause you are my survival/Now hear me say/

I placed the last clean wine glass away before icy fingertips snaked up the back of my shirt.

“Jesus!” I spun around, a mischievous grin spread across your perfect face. “You have icicles for fingers.” A shiver ran up my spine as your fingers, still on my back, trailed around to my front, inching up my chest. I placed my right hand over both of yours, stopping their climb towards my nipples. “Nu-uh, baby girl, not tonight.”

Still holding on, I leaned down, brushing my lips over yours, your fingers flexing into my chest as I threaded the fingers from my free hand into your hair, cradling the back of your head and deepening the kiss.

A soft moan vibrated against my lips, my tongue stealing your breath away as I swept it along the inside grooves of your mouth.

You pulled away panting, tugging your hands out of my grip and out of my shirt before reaching to throw them around my neck.

“Sorry, Jare, I was cold.”

“Don’t sorry me, you aren’t sorry.” My hands settled on your waist as I stared down into your Y/E/C eyes. How I got so lucky I’d never know. “If you were sorry you wouldn’t do it all the time.” I brought my hands down, cupping the curve of each globe of your ass before squeezing and pulling you up off the ground; a squeal of delight echoing through the kitchen.

“Jared! Put me down!” you laughed, your arms tightening around my neck and your legs wrapping around my waist.

God, I loved your laugh, some days it was the one thing that kept me going.

/I can’t imagine life without your love/And even forever don’t seem like long enough/'Cause every time I breathe I take you in/And my heart beats again/Baby I can’t help it/You keep me drowning in your love/And every time I try to rise above/I’m swept away by love/Baby I can’t help it/You keep me drowning in your love/

I moved through our home with purpose, each of my long strides bringing us closer to our bedroom that was tucked at the far end of the house on the first floor. It was perfect for times like this, not needing to navigate stairs when I wanted to make love to my wife, but I knew when we had kids we’d have to move. The times we’ve talked about it, your want to be on the same floor as they would be on overriding my laziness to climb stairs with you in my arms.

The bedroom door was open, as it usually was and for once the bed didn’t include a large and loving dog curled up in the center of the bed. I deposited you onto the mattress, listening to your squeal of delight and watching you crawl back towards the pillows as I pulled my shirt over my head.

I followed your body, crawling from the foot of the bed all the way up until I had you caged in below me, my strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down to brush my lips over yours. Their softness under mine had me falling head first into arousal and making my heart beat faster in my chest, your hands mapping out the spaces of my back and shoulders as I nipped my way over your jaw and down your neck.

“Jared,” you whimpered and I grinned into your skin, licking a line up towards your ear.

“I love you,” I murmured, planting a kiss just behind your ear.

In that moment, the atmosphere shifted, thickening and the smell of smoke started filling our room. I pulled out of our kiss, looking down at you with bewildered eyes and looked around our room. I could smell the heaviness but saw nothing.

“Babe, do you smell that?”

You stared up at me blankly, the fingertips on your right hand reaching up to brush the hair out of my face.

“Babe, do you smell any smoke?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Jared. I don’t smell anything. Ignore it baby.”

You pulled my attention back towards you and I got lost once again in your lips, my hands skimming down your sides until they disappeared under your top, dancing over your smooth skin towards your chest. Again my nose stung with the smell of smoke, this time burning my throat and tasting like soot. I pulled away, gasping and coughing, trying to clear my airway as it started to close up.

“Jared?”

My vision started to wane and I tried to call out to you, but you faded from my sight as the hazy smoke I’d been breathing in finally took my last breath away.

/Maybe I’m a drifter/Maybe not/'Cause I have known the safety/Of falling free into your arms/I don’t need another lifeline/It’s not for me/It’s only you can save me/Oh, can’t you see?/

I don’t know how long I was out, but when I came to I was greeted by your loving face.

“Morning baby. I made coffee and I defrosted some bacon. I just put it in the oven and was going to see if you were awake enough to join me for breakfast.”

“Yeah, sure.” I shook my head, pushing what had to be a nightmare from my mind and leaning up on an elbow to press my closed lips to yours. After a few moments, you slipped out of our bed and turned to go back towards the kitchen, the soft white nightgown you must have changed into after I fell asleep, flowing behind you as you turned the corner.

Climbing out of bed, I grabbed my shirt off the floor, shrugging it on and following the smell of frying bacon and coffee. The savory smell of the start of our first meal of the day made my stomach growl and I approached you as you stood next to the stove, a bowl with two cracked eggs in it and pepper sitting and waiting for you to whip them into your fluffy scrambled eggs.

My arms wrapped snugly around your waist and I rested my chin on the top of your head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

You raised a hand, caressing the skin on my arm slowly. “I don’t know. I ask myself the same thing every day.” She gave a light squeeze and I pulled away as her touch started burning my flesh.

There was no reaction from you as you reached for a fork and started beating the eggs, reaching with your free hand to sip at your coffee mug that sat next to your bowl. I shook it off and moved to the other side of our kitchen where the coffee pot sat, hot and ready.

My usual mug wasn’t on the counter where you’d always lay it out and I opened the cabinet above to get it out. The anti-possession symbol staring back at me as I reached inside to grab it. As soon as my long fingers wrapped around the handle, however, I again felt that burn, my hand growing hotter by the second as I took it out. It burned white hot until I couldn’t stand it anymore and I dropped the mug onto the counter.

The noise from the mug hitting the hard surface of our granite countertop and shattering drew your attention, making you jump before turning to survey what had happened. I was shocked and confused. How had my mug hurt me like that?

You crossed the space between myself and the stove, grabbing a dish towel on your way. Smiling softly, you brushed the mess of porcelain shards together before collecting them in the towel.

“Guess I’ll have to get a new one.” It didn’t seem to faze you as you dumped the broken pieces into the trash can and returning to your post at the stove, clicking off the flame of the stove before plating up the eggs.

But even with the stove now off I could still feel the heat, the skin on the back of my hand now burning and I looked down to see the flesh starting to bubble and redden, crawling up my right arm and spreading over to my chest.

“Y/N?” I was getting scared by the second and felt nothing by pain coursing through my body, the white hot of my flesh burning with no source consuming me but not once did you say anything. Instead you turned off the oven, grabbing the cooked bacon and adding a couple slices to your plate.

“Y/N, baby, talk to me.”

/I can’t imagine life without your love/And even forever don’t seem like long enough/(It don’t seem like long enough, yeah)/'Cause every time I breathe I take you in/And my heart beats again/Baby I can’t help it/You keep me drowning in your love/And every time I try to rise above/I’m swept away by love/Baby I can’t help it/You keep me drowning in your love/

I tried to ignore it, the cold drafts, the linger smell of Jared’s cologne, the random pressure on the bed at night, the broken mugs, but it was always useless. I couldn’t ignore the smell of burning flesh that followed the musky scent and I couldn’t ignore the rippled skin on my arms from when the fire had scorched me.

It was all so consuming and I thought about it every day, the fire that ripped through Jared’s trailer on set, the wires from the lighting in his bedroom sparking, catching on the sheets and the flames crawling over his sleeping body.

I’d been in the bathroom when I smelled it, smoke creeping under the door and choking me before I ripped the door open and was greeted by the screams of agony from my husband. I raced towards him, not thinking as I thrust my hands out towards the burning orange glow, blindly trying to find Jared but flinching away as my arms started burning.

I barely remember Jensen’s arm encircling my waist, pulling me away from the now silent side of the trailer, flames already spreading as he yanked me outside, my lungs coughing up black soot as pain finally registered in my mind. My arms were red and angry and my heart broke as I finally heard the words from my best friend in my ear.

“You’re gonna be okay. He’s gonna be okay. The firemen are almost here. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Jared was gone, dead long before the fire trucks had even entered the set and it was me who was taken to the hospital in Vancouver, my arms treated for the severe burns I’d suffered. But the burned were nothing compared to the pain that consumed my chest as I recalled those few moments of trying to save my husband.

/Go on pull me under/Cover me with dreams/You know I can’t resist/'Cause you’re the air that I breathe/'Cause every time I breathe I take you in/(Every time I breathe, yeah)/And my heart beats again/Baby I can’t help it/(Baby I can’t help it)/You keep me drowning in your love/

I picked up my phone, opening the camera and scanning the area in my kitchen until I finally, in the corner of the screen caught a glimpse of my deceased husband.

“Hi baby. You have to calm down. I know you’re scared but it’s okay. It’s over. The pain isn’t real anymore.” I said these words every single day. Jensen told me it was insane. This wasn’t Supernatural, ghosts didn’t linger like this and he didn’t want to see me hold on like this.

‘If he hasn’t moved on, you have to let him go.’

Those were the words Jensen said to me the first time I mentioned thinking Jared might be haunting me. All the kitchen cabinets open and his favorite mug shattered into hundreds of pieces all over the kitchen.

The first time I caught Jared’s spirit on my phone was by accident. I was taking a photo of Sadie, sending it off to Jensen to show JJ how much she loved the new rawhide she’d given her, when I noticed the look on Sadie’s face and the glare in the photo. Sadie leaned her golden head towards something, a hand I suppose, and I watched her fur ruffle before closing my eyes and counting to ten.

It wasn’t real, I told myself but as it kept happening, all the evidence piling up around me, I knew it really was. My husband, the man I loved with my whole heart, who I had lost in a fire that should have never happened, was stuck in this plane, tied to me and the love I still cared in my heart.

I closed the camera app and clicked on my call list, selecting Jensen’s number and waiting for him to answer.

The deep voice of my best friend, my husband’s best friend, answered the same way he did everyday. “He’s there, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Let him go, Y/N. Tell him he’s dead and needs to move on.”

“I can’t,” tears weld in my eyes and I felt that familiar coldness wrap around me, comforting me.

“You have to. You can’t keep living like this and it’s unfair to him. Let him go, Y/N. Let him go.”

I shut off my phone without another word, my eyes squeezing shut as I imagined being in Jared’s arms again, his scent combined with the burning smell of smoke filled my lung. “I’m sorry, Jare, but you have to go. I’m drowning in this love and you’re not here anymore. You’re dead and I can’t keep holding on to you. Please baby, go home. Let us both have peace.”

The coldness around me vanished as did the fragrance and my heart broke knowing he was finally gone.

Thank you so much for reading and if you like what you’ve read, maybe buy me a whiskey or two.

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jimlingss · 7 years

Text

His Name [1]

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Words: 5.5k

Genre: Angst, Multiple Personality!Au Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him. → Inspired by the Korean Drama - Kill Me Heal Me Warnings: Topics of mental health, mentions of death and medical disorders. Disclaimer: Although this piece of work required lots of in-depth research and was attempted to be as accurate as possible, at the end of the day, I am not a psychologist and this is fanfiction. Specific things may be altered or exaggerated for story-telling purposes. Please take all medical terminologies and procedures with a grain of salt.

Cr.

His eyes flash open.

“You need us.” “Jungkook.” “We’re only trying to help you.”

He bolts straight up, only to fall off the mattress and onto the hard ground. The thin, cardinal curtains are closed, trickles of sunlight pouring in and painting the unfamiliar room in a hue of crimson. His head is pounding and his eyes are swollen; he doesn’t know where he is or who he is.

It’s an unfamiliar motel room - the brown patterned covers are shoved in a corner, the drawers thrown open, chairs knocked over and the gray static of the television casts a glow, his shadow flickering with the screen. The full length mirror is shattered, jagged shards littering the carpet and coloured with the same dried scarlet that marks his skin. His fist is sliced in a line, gashed open but he pays no concern as he stares at what’s leftover of the mirror; his reflection is split to show more than two eyes, his face slashed with the splitting grooves.

He ignores the stinging pain of his hand as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand - ten missed calls and a text message from Inhye. He can barely read it in the darkness of the room.

‘Thank you so much for everything. I really enjoyed myself.’

He doesn’t remember a single thing of yesterday.

Jungkook with his pounding heartbeat and in helpless desperation, slumps to the floor, curling his legs together. As his body begins to shake, his trembling fingers reach up to grab fistfuls of his hair, trying to rip the strands from his skull. A scream of rage tears through his throat.

The voices never stop.

No matter what corners you turn, the scent of disinfectant will always follow; perhaps wafting in the air or simply clinging onto your white coat. It’s become your consoling partner, reminding you where you are and keeping your feet rooted to the ground. It keeps your mind away from him.

You curl your fingers around the cool metal handle, sliding the door open for the blazing saffron shade on the wall to blind your eyes. Immediately, you observe the two nurses in the room and the white curtains pulled to separate the space between the beds.

The first girl lying in her bed has her eyes wide open, blankly staring at the ceiling. She’s fifteen years old and transported to the mental health unit earlier this morning when she tried to commit suicide. You’ll have to conduct a suicide assessment test in order to know how immediate the danger is. Depending on the results, you’ll bring Jieun over to find out the patient’s state of mind and decide what kind of therapy would be the most suitable to help.

The boy in the second bed is sleeping while grasping onto his teddy bear in tight fists. He’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia and alongside taking medication, he’s going through psychotherapy. In a few days, he’ll be able to function enough to be discharged from the hospital but it’s essential that he continues his therapy.

You scribble some notes on your clipboard, exchanging a few words with the nurses to get an update on the patients. Your entire morning is comprised of the same routine, your undeterred focus and concentration on each patient, checking and adjusting treatment plans. It’s when you walk back to your office that you recognize a figure standing by the window.

“Nayoung? Oompf.”

She swivels on her toes, racing up to you and engulfing your body within her arms. A tiny giggle escapes your lips as you place the clipboard down on your desk, returning her hug. The dark bags under your eyes seem to alleviate its pressure for a split second.

“Y/N! You didn’t tell me that you were back!”

“Well...I’m back.”

The both of you let go of each other, a good distances away as she studies your face with a smile. “How long has it been? A decade?!”

“Don’t exaggerate.” You grin at your old colleague. “It was only for a half a decade.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and digging her hands into her white coat. “And you didn’t even tell me!”

“I literally just got back a week ago.” You mutter to her in an attempt to ease her pout.

“One week and you’re already managing the Mental Health Unit, huh.”

“What can I say?” You shrug with a sigh, unclipping the documents on your clipboard and searching for the right file in your cabinet. “Going overseas and studying there made me more qualified back here, I guess.”

“That and the fact that you graduated as the top psychologist of your PhD class and before you left you were running this department anyways. It’s no wonder you’ve gotten your position back so quickly. I bet they were begging on their knees for you.” She teases, the tip of her tongue peeking out at you as she plops down in your armchair.

“Please. And what about you? Aren’t you doing well in the Pediatric Care Center?”

“I am. But as you can see. I’m currently on my break. Have you had any breaks?”

“Nayoung.” You draw out her name in exasperation, placing back the file into its proper place.

“Just answer the question, Y/N.”

“We literally just reunited after half a decade and you’re already nagging me?”

She ignores you. “I’m going to take that as a no.” She melts into a smile while shaking her head in disapproval. “You haven't changed at all. Even after all these years….when will you ever stop being a workaholic, Y/N?”

It’s your turn to ignore her.

You pull out a binder from your shelf, searching for a specific page that you've been thinking about all morning. It could potentially help with your patient that has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Nayoung sighs. “I really didn’t expect you to come back.”

Your hands halt, glancing up at her for a second before turning back down and murmuring under your breath- “Me neither”.

“What made you?”

“I guess I missed….I missed home.” You admit with a meek upturn of your lips. “No matter where I went….”

...you could never escape the demons of your past. The change of scenery could never change who you were.

“Nothing beats home.” She nods in agreeance, leaning back. “I get it. I’m glad you’re back, Y/N.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to be back.” You bring your full attention onto her, exchanging smiles.

“Say…” She turns around, having gotten up and ready to greet you goodbye as her break was nearing the end. “...have you….have you talked to Seonho, yet?”

With the mention of him, something uncomfortable lodges in your throat. She quickly retracts her words. “I mean...it’s just that...I know it’s a serious-..um...he’s asked me about you.”

You manage a strained smile but your voice comes out weaker than you expect. “No. I haven’t got the chance yet.”

She nods, eyes downcasting in sympathy and understanding. “If you can...Y/N...you should really visit him.”

The dark past that had been chasing you for five years comes to catch you faster than anticipated. It wraps its arms around your body and holds you captive to regrets. Your limbs are chained by bitter anguish and it’ll never cease to play the game of ‘what if’ with you.

“I will.”

His fingers are wrapped around the orange container, hand shoving the white cap off to spill the pills into his palm. His pupils never stop scrutinizing the reflection in the mirror - not for a mere split second as he presses the bitter capsules to his bleeding lips and his tongue twines them. He forces the medication down his throat, despite knowing that it has no effects, that it will never be any curative for his illness. The label has all but faded away, ripped at the edges but he pays no mind as he shoves it back into the bathroom cabinet.

It is another day that he must walk in the body that is no longer his.

“Jungkook. Your father would like to see you.”

He brings up his white bandaged hand, motioning to silence the secretary. His eyes are pinned straight ahead, lips in a straight line to perfectly mask his pain in a blank expression.

“I am fully aware.”

The workers of the floor peek their heads past their cubicles, orbs glued onto him and their mouths draw open. Murmurs befall from their lips, rolling off like sugar and melted butter - words like rich and handsome, ‘it’s the CEO’s son’. Yet, he can’t find it in himself to be satisfied by the numerous titles they’ve branded him nor does it swell the pride in his chest. It’s not to say that he is modest. He finds it amusing. Black suits, swept hair, expensive watches and a home worth more than millions doesn’t account to anything.

If only they knew how broken he was inside.

“You called me?” He shuts the door behind him, taking measured strides up to the desk where his father is seated behind in a chair, his hands clasped together in thought.

“Sit.”

He hides his uneasiness, forcing his hands not to tremble as he obeys. His father’s tone is icy and malicious but his eyes are even colder; a glare that could drive Jungkook to run through the colossal glass windows behind his father and pummeling to the hundred floors below - greeting death would be more merciful.

His father cuts to the chase, throwing down a stack of papers on top of the desk, in front of his eyes.

“Look.”

Jungkook immediately recognizes the white pages. “It’s...it’s the deal I signed yesterda-”

“I said ‘look’.”

He takes the documents into his hands, seeing no faults and turning the pages. He racks his brain, narrowing his eyes onto the endless black and white to find the mistake. He turns the page. He turns the page.

He turns the page.

Turns

The

Page.

And on the very last one, he can barely recognize the swirling ink that signs the bottom of the sheet. It’s ordinary to see his name in someone else’s handwriting; work that he was suppose to do completed by another. It’s happened countless times before. But this time, it’s a clumsy mistake that has never occurred before. Instead of the name ‘Jungkook’, it is the signature of the name ‘Namjoon’.

“Are you kidding me, Jungkook?!” His father slams his fist against the wood of the table, his voice shaking with anger. Jungkook immediately winces back, not being able to help the shaking of his legs. “Do you take this as a joke?!”

“I’m...I’m sorry.” His teeth sink into the bottom of his lips, forcing the tears that well up in his eyes to wither away. “It’s...it was my...my…”

“Are you going to blame it on your fake disorder?” Jungkook’s father sits back in his chair, eyes still scrutinizing his son and after a full minute of silence, a chuckle falls from his mouth. It’s not a laugh of joy but one full of disgusted disdain and disbelief. “When will you grow up?”

“I’m…” He stutters before finally being able to look his father in the eyes. “..sorr-”

“Save your apologies.” He spits out sharply. “This. Whatever this is. Get it fixed. I can’t have someone signing fake names in contracts. I can’t have such an idiot taking over the company. You’re getting married soon, what are you going to do then? Stay home. Don’t come anymore. Not until you get it fixed or learn how to take responsibility and behave yourself.”

The two men stare at each other; the younger one with his hands trembling and orbs full of desperation…an ache to be acknowledged…..loneliness. The older dismisses him, looking away to the enormous towers out the window, each a rival and an ally. The two barely share any resemblances aside from the dark shade of their locks. Jungkook has softer features, a rounder face and contrary to his father’s cold ones, Jungkook has bigger eyes carrying an innocence that his father absolutely hates.

“Leave.”

The voices are screaming inside his head, his fingers twitching to switch but he holds it down, even when it pains him to the very core. No. No. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!

Jungkook spares one last glance at the silhouette of his father before he withdraws into the darkness.

It must be urgent.

They had called you in the middle of the day, in the middle of your shift without giving much of an explanation, merely using the word ‘emergency’. And that awoke an instinct that you were trained with, causing you to run down the halls and past the other units to the third floor.

You swallow your gasps as you open the cream doors of the conference room, not wasting a second to knock.

“You called?”

Your arms are by your side, hands clenched in fists. Your white coat is slipping from your shoulders, the hair from your bun falling to the sides of your face. “Wha-what’s going on?” You take one scan of the vast room, the bleached coloured walls and the stretched wooden table sitting in the center. There’s an unfamiliar man wearing a business suit, sitting across from the chief who’s smiling at you.

They seem far too relaxed.

You’re on alert.

“Calm down, Y/N. Come. Take a seat.”

You follow the orders warily, narrowing your eyes at the stranger as you pull a black chair beside the older man. “How are you? You’ve only been back for a week. Are things going well?”

“Yes. They are.” It’s unusual that he’s asking you such trivial questions. “Is there something wrong?”

He hums, arms crossing. “Not wrong per say…But Y/N, this is Mr. Jinkey.” You nod at the black suited man who kindly smiles at you. “Mr. Jinkey, this is Y/N. She’s our modern day genius, entering university at an early age and the highest graduate amongst all her peers. She’s a certified clinical psychologist with a PhD and she recently came back from overseas. Currently, she’s running our entire Mental Health Unit.”

Your suspicions are only growing. He’s not one to give any compliments, afraid that egos will be blown up too big and end up exploding; ultimately causing harm. Your chief is known for throwing equipment at interns and shouting at nurses until they burst into tears. You’re certainly not a genius and you’re not running the unit either.

But for appearance's sake in front of the stranger, you give a tense smile. “Please. I’m just working my hardest…”

“Good. Good.” Mr. Jinkey nods his head in approval. “I think she’s suitable.”

“Really. There’s no one but her. If there’s anyone that can do it, it’s Y/N.” Your chief grows serious, staring at his clasped hands.

Your brows furrow together. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N…” He sighs, looking at you with a softened expression. “I’m going to give you...an off-campus job.”

“An off-campus job?”

The man in the suit pipes up, sliding over a manila folder across the table towards you. “Miss. Y/N, have you ever heard of Jeon Corporations?”

Of course you do.

They’re one of the biggest companies in the country. Even someone living in a rock would know of them. They own all kinds of land and utilities, areas of technology to energy plants. They employ over thousands of people and a large part of the country's GDP is on their shoulders.

You nod your head and he continues. “This is strictly confidential. The moment you open that folder, you’ll be bounded by contract. Of course, we have more official documents with us right now that require your signature.”

“Wait.” You hold out your hand, turning to look at your superior in utter confusion. “What’s going on. Can...can I get some sort of explanation?”

“Y/N.” He draws out a long exhale, dropping his voice into a low murmur despite no one being around that shouldn’t hear. “I need you to work at the Jeon household...to work in their abode. Their son….he suffers from-” inhale “….DID.”

Dissociative Identity Disorder.

The man looks at your chief in alarm for revealing classified information but your chief simply motions his hand. Mr. Jinkey fixes his posture as he stares at you. “Multiple Personality Disorder. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes. Of course..” You nod, questions finally being answered but your frown doesn’t cease. “I...I know of it.”

“Then will you help him?”

“I….Why do you need me to stay at his home? I can help him if he comes in regularly for therapy.”

“He can’t do that. There’s isn’t time.” Mr. Jinkey shakes his head slowly without moving his eyes away from you. “He must be cured within a year.”

“A year?!” Your jaw drops, fingers curling at the edge of the file. “This..that’s impossible! This disorder required a long term healing process.”

“Then make it short term.” Your chief cuts sharply and when you turn to him appalled, he gives you a sympathetic expression. “Y/N. I understand the difficulties but you can’t give up when you haven’t tried. This is a patient that needs your help and I sincerely believe that something can be achieved if you focus all your efforts into this one client.”

“He went to therapy previously but only for a few weeks. There’s little information but if you’re worried about it - he’s not dangerous.” The man tries to coax you. “He’s never been hostile since his diagnosis.”

“No.” You stand up, the chair falling behind you, colliding onto the ground. “I can’t.”

It’s all too much. You haven’t had much time to think. All of the sudden, you have to drop everything and all your patients for one. Someone you’ve never met, a rich boy from a wealthy household. You have to live with a stranger and cure his disorder within a year.

Things aren’t simple like that. Disorders like his take decades to improve, perhaps an entire lifetime. It’s a goal that is intangible, something outside the boundaries of your abilities. You can’t.

“I’m sorry.” You bow your head, turning on your heel to leave the room.

“You’ve changed, Y/N.”

The timber of your chief’s voice shakes the walls and causes you to halt mid-step. “The Y/N who came here six years ago as an intern would’ve never given up on a challenge. Especially when she hasn’t even tried.”

“Good.” You mutter under your breath as you turn around. “A lot of things in my life would’ve been less painful had I given up earlier.”

“That’s a foolish way of thinking.” He doesn’t look at you as if it’ll hurt him too much, staring at the ivory walls as his lips continue to move. “The drive and persistence to never admit defeat is what’ll lead you to a brighter future. If you stay in the same place, if you surrender to hardships, regret will simply build. It will build and build and build, until you wonder-”

What if.

“-what if.”

“Please.” The black-suited man turns to you and his stoic expression is ruined by the knot between his brows. “He needs your help.”

Ten seconds of quiet as you mull over the words and your own thoughts.

With your heartbeat pounding in your chest, you finally take one step forward.

“What is his name?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

The first thing that you immediately notice is how high the walls are.

His house is encased by concrete stones and a metal gate entrance; reaching past the rooftop. But beyond is a luxurious residence, carrying a minimalistic modern style with sharp corners and flat ceilings. Enormous glass windows take up the spaces of the white walls, revealing the bare interior. As you’re walking up to the front door with the lights in the grass illuminating your path, you can’t help but feel like you’re treading through foreign territory - an adventure to save the prince trapped in the soaring tower.

You set the luggage down by your side, inhaling a huge breath to calm your nerves. Your fist raises to knock on the surface but then-

BANG!

“Mr. Jeon!” The black suited man who escorted you smiles.

You’re calming your heartbeat, startled to death at the door flying open, crashing against the wall from the force. And it takes one full minute for you to soak in the appearance of the so-called Jeon Jungkook.

He’s a lot younger than you’ve imagined. From the documents, you already knew that he was the same age as you but from his appearance, though looking tired and weary, he still somehow maintains boyish features. His cheeks are rounded, lips puffy with teeth imprints in his bottom lip exhibiting how he was nibbling on them prior to your arrival, most likely out of nervousness. His bangs are curled inwards into a comma motion, hair a dark shade of chocolate that matches his irises. If it wasn’t for the sick colour of his skin, the downturn of his mouth or the black bags under his eyes, you would’ve thought that he resembled an innocent rabbit.

Instead, with the way he sharply scrutinizes you, it looks like life has forced him against his will to become a predator.

Mr. Jinkey speaks up, shattering the silence and breaking your gaze on the boy. “This is-”

“I know.” He interjects. “You can leave.”

The older man bows his head and you watch his backside as he leaves to his car. Jungkook widens the door, abandoning it without sparing a second glance at you. Nonetheless, you exhale a huge breath as you step into his abode with your luggage, shutting the door behind you.

“How fast can you cure me?”

“Excuse me?”

You disregard the fact that he hasn’t introduced himself or asked for your name.

He huffs out as if each single word he utters to you adds to his exhaust. “How. fast. can. you. cure. me.”

“I...these things take time. Dissociative Identity Disorder is the most intricate and theoretically difficult dissociative disorder; it embodies the total variety of dissociative phenomena.” He continues to give you an unimpressed stare and you sigh. “We still haven’t talked about anything yet. This might...might take some time.”

“Do you think I’m lying?”

“What?” The handle of the suitcase slips out of your grasps in the moment that you grab it. “Why would I think that you’re lying?”

“A lot of people think this disease….disorder...whatever you want to call it...is a hoax. Fake.” He smirks at you, the side of his lip pulling. “I’m just a spoiled rich boy who’s ‘diagnosed’ with having multiple personalities. It’s my excuse to avoid inheriting the company so I can play all day.”

Your eyes examine him coldly. He’s in black dress pants, a black button-up shirt that’s rolled all the way to his elbows. More importantly, his arms are crossed together over his chest - a defensive position, body language that tells you he fears being vulnerable.

“I don’t really think that’s the case.” You smile gently and he falters, the frown alleviating for a mere heartbeat. “It’s not the sort of thing that someone can joke about either.”

Jungkook continues to gaze at you until he turns on his heel, mumbling something barely coherent about how your room is upstairs to the left. You don’t stop smiling, especially when you catch him rubbing his hands together out of nervousness.

The both of you are seated across each other, both on leather couches with the coffee table placed in between. You’ve dim the lights to create a relaxed atmosphere but keeping it bright enough for business to be conducted. With the way he’s tapping his foot, you assume he’s anxious with getting the first session started.

The first thing you have to do is establish the clear boundaries. “Jungkook, have you already signed the contract that was given to you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should know that we’ll have at least one session every day. More or less can be decided depending on the circumstances.” He nods and you offer a kind smile. “If you need something from me, you can knock on my door since I’m down the hall. I’m here to help you with your disorder and any issues that you may have, nothing more and nothing less.”

“I understand.” He’s tapping his fingers on his thigh, a sign of impatience but he nods nevertheless.

“Good.”

“I’m also going to discontinue any medication that you’re taking right now. If I feel that it is necessary, I might prescribe you and then I can monitor you from there.” He nods. “Today I’m going to introduce you to talk therapy and psychotherapy. At any time that you may feel uncomfortable, you can tell me. Please don’t hesitate. You can refuse to answer any question. This space and session is meant for you. Whatever we discuss will also be fully confidential. Your safety is of my utmost priority.”

“Okay.”

“Our goal is to merge all personalities into one. Or at the very least, to resolve and make peace amongst all the personalities.”

You’ve taken a look at his documents before and the information of his few previous sessions. There was close to nothing aside from the notes that he had at the very least five other personalities. When met in any kind of danger, one of his personalities immediately takes over. Another common occurrence of when he switches to his alters is when he experiences strong emotions. It’ll be absolutely essential to build his stress tolerance and help him cope with stress and anxiety.

“Isn’t there a...quicker way? I want to get rid of all these other...things...personalities...whatever.” His brows are knotted together in frustration and he runs a hand through his dark brown locks. “Can’t you just make me...normal?”

“I understand your anxiousness, Jungkook. But all these steps are absolutely essential. They will help in the long-run.”

“Okay.” He leans back in the couch. “Fine.”

You smile at him, letting a bit of silence linger as you move onto the next topic. “We’re going to create a safety agreement. It’s just to reduce unsafe behaviours. This is a safe space but I want you to feel safe wherever you go.”

He breathlessly laughs, a mocking tone out of disbelief as he shakes his head. “Yeah sure. Tell that to the others.”

“This agreement is something that all the identities must acknowledge. They’re bound to it too.” He’s quiet, staring at the carpet. “This means that no matter who comes forward, I want you to recognize that you’re in control of your life no matter what, Jungkook. No one will be able to harm you or this body.”

He doesn’t respond for a long time, frowning with blank eyes at the wall. “Jungkook?”

“They’re loud.” He moves his eyes onto you. “I can hear them in my head.” There’s a pause before he breaks out into a smirk. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Well I do.” Jungkook mutters. You catch a hint of defeat in his voice but no sooner he’s looking back at you again, waiting for you to continue.

“During our sessions, I don’t want you to fight the different alters.”

He frowns. “What? You…….......don’t?”

You shake your head. “The very core of this process is to make all the identities become aware of each other. Nothing good will come out of ignoring them. The goal is to try to resolve everyone’s innermost conflict. That being said, you still remain in control. If an alter does something that is dangerous, I want you to believe that you have the ability to come back.”

He inhales sharply, tilting his head out of skepticism. “I’ll...try my best.”

“And that’s good enough.” The corners of your lips upturn and you motion towards him. “Are they still speaking to you right now?”

“Yes.” He grimaces. “It’s hard to concentrate.They won’t shut up.”

“Then if you’re comfortable, Jungkook...and only if you’re completely comfortable - is it alright if I meet one of the alters?”

He blinks at you as if wondering why in Heaven’s name you would want to do something like that. But eventually his tense posture loosens and he slumps back. “Okay. If...if it’s weird or you get freaked out, I und-”

“Jungkook.” You interrupt. “It’s okay.”

He nods before inhaling a deep breath and shutting his eyes. He frowns and his nose twitches. His body winces once. Within five seconds, his eyes flutter open again.

“Hi.” You mask your startleness with a smile. His orbs are painstakingly cold, face blank of any expression and you’re unable to read his body language. “I’m doctor Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He stares at the hand that shoots out. After an extended pause, you withdraw it. “Not much of a hand-shaker, are you?”

He chuckles lowly. “Don’t call me an alter.” Somehow his voice has dropped down a tone, timber rumbling and husky. “I’m a damn person.”

“I see.” You tilt your head in curiosity. “Then what’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know.” He cuts off. “Are you here to try to ‘fix’ him?”

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in the sofa and throwing his arm over the edge. The side of his lip tugs upwards. “Good luck sweetheart. Don’t think you’re getting rid of us anytime soon. He needs us. You’re causing more harm by doing this.”

The knot between your brows deepen. “Why?”

But before he has the chance to answer you or evade your question again, suddenly he closes his eyes. Jungkook’s face contorts in pain and then he slumps over, falling off the couch. He grunts out, hands grabbing up to his chest as if something is pounding from within. You immediately flinch forward but you don’t rush to his side.

“Jungkook?”

He catches his breath, gasping for oxygen and he manages to sit up, hands at the floor to support the weight of his body. He looks at you with weary eyes, lips parted and his head thrown back. Jungkook is still shaking.

“Do you hear me?”

His pupils flicker to yours at the question.

“You aren’t many people within one.” You strictly affirm. “You’re one whole person, simply sharing many identities.”

The words wrap around him like a comforting embrace. You’re the first person who’s ever believed him, who has ever tried to help, who has been by him when he’s needed it most.

A deep determination begins to root itself in the pits of your chest.

You already know - you’ll help until the end, no matter the consequences.

“You’re one whole person.”

The voice message plays once more.

“It’s me~ Nayoung! I texted you the address in case you didn’t remember. I know you’re busy, Y/N but there will always be a hundred excuses.” A heavy sigh is heard on the other line. “I know it’s not my place to say anything. But he’s asked about you for the past five years. If you have some time….” A slight pause holds suffocating silence to overwhelm your guilt. “....you should really visit him.”

The door opens, the walls are closed together with a thin glass separating the other half of the room. “He’ll be here in a moment.” The guard huffs out.

“Thank you.”

Your palms are clammy and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. Doubts of - whether or not you should be here, if you should leave right now, if you should run, if he really wants to see you - begin to cloud your mind. But before you act on any of the urges screaming inside your head, the other door opens.

He’s there behind a guard, scruffy shadow around his mouth and bright eyes, aged then you last remember but still as happy. He has faint lines on his face, most predominantly under his eyes. He’s still the same boy that is dormant in your memories; running on campus, up to no good and giggling with you. The moment his orbs land on yours, he rushes over, almost tripping over his own shoes. A huge grin splits his mouth, pinching the apples of his cheeks pink. His lips move to your name as if he’s screaming it out in joy. But you can’t hear.

Tears fill your eyes and you exhale a deep breath, picking up the phone handle with a trembling hand. He does the same, nearly exploding out of happiness- “Y/N!” He exclaims and you laugh, scrunching up your nose at the sheer volume that threatens to burst your eardrums.

His orange jumpsuit blinds your eyes.

“Seonho.” You smile. “It’s been a long time.”

You don’t know how or why. Three years ago if you had told yourself you’d be in this position, you would’ve ran to the ends of Earth to avoid it. You’ve already ran away most of your life. One more time wouldn’t hurt.

But somehow, you find yourself sitting, once more, across from the man who holds your heart captive.

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #bts scenario #I was really excited to share this!!#but honestly as I re-read it - I became skeptical lol #nonetheless I hope you're all prepared to buckle down for another adventure #WOO!

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