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its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons · 3 years

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pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

July 9th: VIP MEMBERS, GET YALLS JUICE!!

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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Wendy!!!! I'm so sorry for seeing the request fic so late, I thought my ask didn't go through because Tumblr ate it up, but thank you so much for the Geto semi-angst fic, it got me in the feels😭😭😭 I love your work, you feed us so many amazing contents on the daily, it's just a God-given gift (no cap). This is a PSA: Tumblr fic writers are amazing, a gift to the Universe. Thank you for existing 🥺.

Also, also, also, my friend and I have been making up all these scenarios in our heads where Geto is a Sociology professor at a prestigious university, an epitome of conformity, but, he is also an underground tatoo artist who fights for the greater cause and sticks up for the underdog.

So, can I request a Geto x fem reader, where reader is a student at his Uni, and then comes across him at the tatoo place, and after all the wildin', he ends up giving her a tatoo? Only if you are free though. P.S. the Lemonade Toji fic was so sweet😭

P.P.S: Congratulations on your 900 follower milestone!!!

I am gonna stop now, this looked like a word vomit, I hope this is not too much.

- (Your pace anon)🥀

🥀 anon, this is too sweet! I'm so glad you enjoyed Your Pace - it was actually a lot of fun to write!

I'm so glad you're enjoying the other works as well. I'm happy that you're happy with my work. (I've never gotten a tattoo done for myself [yet] but I have been with friends who got them done. And I did extra research. Now I want to get my tatt done so bad lol)

NOW, ON WITH THE SHOW!

Inked: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.2k

tw: none

masterlist

"Yo! What can I do you for?

The tattoo parlor is really... "underground". That's what Eileen had said. And you can't help but be discomfited by the sight of a bunch of men around the parlor and not a single woman, except you.

"Um..." You clutch your handbag a little closer as you walk up to the man behind the counter, his long, black nails and tattooed face making you even more nervous. "I... I was wondering if you could give me my first tattoo." He's outfitted in a black sleeveless muscle shirt, and he crosses his tatted arms, tilting his head at you.

"Got something in mind?" The man raises a brow as you shuffle around in your bag for what you had thought up: the outline of a letter with your grandfather's signature on it. When you present it to the man, he snatches it up, eyes roving over the design and then back to you. "This it?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Eileen told me to mention her when I came in. She couldn't be here, but she said you guys would take good care of me." The sounds of uproarious laughter behind you make you flinch, and the man looks you over once, then hands you back your design.

"Listen, I don't do first-timers. Eileen knows I prefer the more... experienced clients. But let me ask around and see if someone will be willing to take on the challenge. You squeamish?" You shake your head no. "Ticklish?" You pause, thinking about all of the places on your body that tend to be susceptible to touch, then shake your head no. "Okay, I'll be back."

The pink-haired man walks around the shop, peering at some of the men who are working and asking the others who aren't busy if they're willing to work on you. A few say no, and when he disappears into a small room in the back, you fear the worst. You hoped by mentioning Eileen that they would be more than willing to tattoo you - she's a favorite for more reasons than one around this shop - but it appears that no one is willing until the man comes back up to the front desk and sighs.

"Right, so," he exhales as he spreads his hands on the desk. "I have our most experienced man in the back willing to work on you. Since it's your first time, he's going to make sure you're taken care of." You walk back to the small room with the man and past a bead curtain, facing the chair you'll be sitting in and a man with long black hair facing a computer for a second before he turns around.

When his black eyes meet yours, you gasp, and he smiles even wider, eyes lighting up with recognition. You can barely contain your surprise as you sputter out,

"Professor Geto?"

"Y/n!" The pink-haired man frowns, stepping back a little.

"You two know each other?"

"Yeah, y/n is one of my former sociology students. She sat in the second row, right next to Eileen." Your eyes are too busy taking in the vast array of tattoos your professor has, his grey shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. You spot a compass, a snake, a Leviathan, a skull, a jaguar... You lose count at sixteen tattoos as the men go back and forth about his daytime career, discussing the ethics of tattooing former students, and why the pink-haired man was so concerned when he tattooed Eileen all the time, despite being her brother's best friend.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." The pink-haired man gripes, walking off.

"So, can I see what you've got there?" You instantly stretch out your hand and offer him the design to scrutinize. His eyes drift over the page before he turns back to the computer, beginning to sketch it over again. "Where do you want it?"

"Right below my ribcage." Geto hums, nodding.

"I got it. Give me a few minutes to finish this and then you can take a look at the design." You look around the small room as he works on the design, taking stock of the "Yellow Peril" posters and socialist rhetoric posted everywhere.

"You're a sociology professor at this conservative university... but you've got Karl Marx framed on your wall." You laugh, a little baffled at the absurdity of it all. Here is Professor Geto, handsome as hell, normally all dressed up in his black mock turtleneck and tan suit, wearing simple glasses and discussing the human condition during the day, but by night... still handsome as help but an underground, socialist tattoo artist.

"Where else should I go? The echo chamber that would be a liberal university? Or should I go out and try to expose other ideologies to people who may be open to them and sharing them with their friends?" You hum at the thought, nodding.

"That makes a lot of sense."

"Take a look at it," The man offers, turning around in his chair and handing you the sketch. You look at it - and it's virtually the same, so you nod and Geto smiles. "Alright, show me where exactly you want it."

You roll up your shirt and point to the spot, and Geto applies the stencil transfer, then peels it off, leaving the outline behind. You watch as he begins to prepare his equipment, moving methodically to avoid mistakes or mishaps. A thin layer of ointment is applied to the transfer and when he's ready, he looks up at you and you inhale deeply.

"You ready?" You nod quickly.

"Let's get this over with." The machine begins to whir, and you brace yourself for impact.

"Don't hold your breath," the black-eyed man warns. "Just breathe in and out." When the needle hits your skin, you feel a hot scratch, making you hiss in a little. Geto tuts a little, then reminds you to take a breath. "It gets easier."

While he works, he makes small talk, like what you're doing with your degree and how long you have until you graduate. You ask him about his political leanings, and why you never knew he was a socialist before now.

"It's not my job to force my political leanings onto you all. I'm just here to expose you to all of the ideas out there."

And you agreed.

The tattoo didn't take long, and once you're finished, he lets you stand and take a look at it in the mirror.

"You like it?"

You examine the artistry and turn back to him, smiling widely.

"I love it." Geto begins his speech on aftercare as he places the bandage on your tattoo, and even hands you a piece of paper detailing the exact speech he just gave. You walk up to the counter after he's done, and swift fingers ring you up for the total, which you happily pay.

"When you can, you should come to our meetings," Geto offers, sliding you a flyer and winking. "I'd love to see you there." You take the flyer and look it over, trying not to let your eagerness show.

"This looks like fun," you answer. "I'll see you when I can."

And this time - you think as you exit the shop - I'll be in the front row.

#geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S3 01 | Tattoo

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1871

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.

Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.

During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.

"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.

For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.

"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.

"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.

"Okay, but why two bands?"

Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"

"Getting a tattoo means something."

Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."

"Yeah, you see? He gets it."

"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."

"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.

The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.

I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.

"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.

On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.

"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.

"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."

"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.

Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.

He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"

"No. Prada bit me."

"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.

"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.

"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"

"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"

"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.

"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.

"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.

I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.

Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.

"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.

"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.

"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."

"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"

"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.

"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"

I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.

"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.

Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.

When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.

"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."

"Studying for the psats?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.

"Go home, Scott."

"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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soobrat · 4 years

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*･༓☾ bloodshot // johnny ☽༓･*

chapter i // masterlist

*pairing* you x johnny + jungwoo

*chapter rating* mature

*warnings* gore (I'll put a marker up to where it starts and ends for the squeamish), explicit sexual content, mentions of slurs and sexism

*word count* 2.4k

*disclaimer(s)* I obviously don't think johnny or any other members would act this way. Please don't take anything I write seriously as it is just for fun. I in no way view idols differently and inappropriately in real life because of my smuts or any of their contents!

((TW: you “injure yourself” in this chapter but it’s not driven by any mental health circumstances))

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

Well, everyone thinks you're crazy now. You really didn't think kicking a toothpick under your toenail would catch this many headlines. Or maybe it was the reason you did it that has everyone's panties in a twist.

"Popular Streamer _____ Injures Herself After Altercation with Fellow Streamer jonssuh"

You had to prove your point. You had no desire to be cordial with that son of a bitch.

"Come on, ___. You love me, right?" Johnny taps on his cheek with his index finger. The gesture was seemingly in slow motion as your blood boiled. You wanted to knock that stupid grin off his face. You balled your fists tightly as the men- no, boys laughed at his joke. Or lack thereof.

"You're so overdramatic." Lucas rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. You felt triumphant as you felt the boys getting upset. Finally their smug acts were over. It was suffocating. You glared at the two massive men as they leaned on the kitchen island, glaring back at you.

"You actually hate Johnny?" You turn to see Mark on the sofa, pushing himself forward a little so he can see beyond the other men on the sofa. His face read of concern. Good. He should be concerned.

"That's what I've been trying to fucking tell everyone. My viewers, you guys, the commentary youtubers, your viewers, everyone! I'm not joking, I was never joking, I could sleep easy knowing I'd never see Johnny again." You turn your gaze back at Johnny who had that amused smirk back on his face.

"You're so full of shit, you know that?"

"And why is that?" You maneuver around the island to stand firmly in front of the human skyscraper. You felt your adrenaline pumping as the air grew more tense.

"Okay guys this is getting stupid. Stop before you do something dumb." Taeyong piped up, you could hear the annoyance in his voice. You stayed put, awaiting Johnny's response. He tilts his head upward and crosses his arms, feigning deep thought.

"Well I don't know, you always seem to be around me. And hm... I don't know... the fact that I did nothing to you." The venom in Johnny's voice made you shift in place with glee. It was very difficult to not smile. You were successfully getting under his skin.

Finally a man among your mutual streamer friends was the one someone made squirm for someone else's amusement. No more sexism and just flat out being a jerk for shock value. Or to just solely make you feel like shit while everyone else laughed. Now you were laughing while Johnny gritted his teeth.

"You see, you did do something and you know you did. Look it's just my personal opinion that you're a piece of dog shit." You finally let a smile stretch across your features as you let one of his signature lines rip.

"Ah, so that's what this is about?" Johnny scoffed, shifting his weight.

"Those are just jokes. You always take them way too seriously."

You feel the power dynamic shifting again. No, you weren't going to let him use this idiotic defense to gain his position back.

"If those are jokes then you're a shitty comedian." You walk closer to him, looking straight into his eyes as you over-enunciate each letter in your insult.

"Everyone else seems to like them." Johnny shrugs, keeping his composure. The dynamic was shifting once more. You snort at his reply.

"Who's "everyone"? The little boys in this room?" You hear the boys grumble in protest around you.

"Or your 12 year old fans who think saying the N word is a punchline. Very impressive audience, Kevin Hart." You chuckle. Johnny stayed quiet for a while nodding as he shifted back and forth. You could feel how no one was on your side, but you muscled forward, trying to ignore it.

"So you're telling me you hate me, because of some stupid jokes-"

You laugh loudly.

"Of course you take two steps back when you're backed into a corner."

"We're not stupid, ____. I get it, I'm a popular streamer and beef with me would get you some decent numbers. But keep it on stream, babe." He pats your shoulder and attempts to move past you.

"I would rather kick a toothpick under my toenail than be forced to coexist with you. I promise it's not a publicity stunt." You cross your arms tightly.

"Oh yeah?" Johnny's footsteps thunder past you as he reaches for a package of toothpicks. He brings them to the island, dumping them onto the countertop. Countless toothpicks clatter onto the granite, some spilling over onto the linoleum tiles. The guys groan and protest in the background, most notably, Taeyong.

"See- This is what the fuck I'm talking about, man. You guys are so fucking ridiculous."

(gore marker)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was the anger that Taeyong didn't understand why you loathed this man. It was the way Johnny's nostrils flared at you as he gestured to the toothpicks that egged you on. Your movements are theatrical as you take two fingers to lift a single toothpick from the countertop.

"No fucking way?!" Lucas cackled in disbelief. Everyone watched in awe as you saunter to the nearest wall, placing the toothpick under your right big toenail.

"____ cut it out! What the fuck?" Taeyong shot up from the couch, attempting to stop you but it was too late. The mixture of searing pain and screeches of disbelief and disgust overwhelmed your senses. The room spun as your eyesight faded in and out. You stumbled backwards but Taeyong caught you before you could fall. Your toe was burning hot while blood ran down from the wound in various directions. You didn't want to look at it. Taeyong scoops you up and quickly whisks you away to the bathroom.

The maddening discourse was just blurred background noise as Taeyong sat you on the toilet. Your vision was going blurry, hearing going in and out as Taeyong reprimanded you. You couldn't decipher a word he was saying.

"Could you shut up and take it out please." Hot tears poured down your cheeks. Taeyong paused, shutting the bathroom door. The decrease in volume brought you back down to earth. Unfortunately, this meant the pain was clear as well. You inhale sharply before exhaling shakily. Your foot shook violently as you finally saw the viscera. You whimpered worriedly, in disbelief at yourself. Your hands shook as well as you grabbed for something, anything. One hand landed on Taeyong's arm. The other tugged a towel off a bar, the poorly assembled bar coming down as well with a loud clang.

You began to sob, not knowing how to deal with the excruciating pain. You choked, looking away as Taeyong finally removed the toothpick. Your lips tremble as you attempt to stifle your sobs. You squeeze Taeyong's arm but your body never stops shaking.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"I'm sorry... I didn't know you were serious."

"You still laughed." Your voice quivered. The words came out louder than you anticipated. Johnny probably heard that. Great.

You hiss loudly as Taeyong applies peroxide.

"You need to go to the hospital, this is worse than I thought."

"Yeah, whatever." You stay turned away from him and the wound. You hear him sigh.

You gave permission to Lucas to tell the story on his stream. You wanted people to know that you will not just sit pretty and giggle while a greasy man talks down to you. You do not associate with Johnny Suh. And now the world finally understood this fact.

Except, your plan backfired. People think you're insane. For good reason. The more days go by, the more idiotic you feel. Of course if backfired. Also, "jonssuh" was bigger than you. Of course people would side with him no matter what.

"People hate me now." You see the opportunity to steal Jisoo's knight, so quickly you do so.

"Checkmate." Jisoo utters as you realize your king is fucked from all directions.

"Fuck."

"You always take the bait so fast. Also, who cares if a bunch of racist white boys hate you. They're all probably 13 anyways." Jisoo starts to put the pieces away but you stop her.

"One more round. Also, that's what I said. But let's be real, they're not all 13. Full grown adults are calling me over-sensitive. Some of them are female as well. That shit hurts." You set up your side with a pout.

"Even so, their opinions still don't matter. They have horrible senses of humor. If "go make me a sandwich" makes them laugh, their opinion is no longer valid." You make you first move.

"I guess."

Even so, the comments and tweets still stuck in your brain. Some of the boys defend you over social media which made you feel a lot better. At the same time, however, it made you feel worse. Your mind flashes back to that night, the things the guys screamed were finally clear.

Mark was just repeating "oh my god" over and over while gagging. Lucas obnoxiously screamed "YOOO!". Typical. While Johnny... well he pressed both hands to either side of his head, repeating,

"You were serious?"

Yes you dipshit. How could he be so dense?

How are men this influential over you?

You wished Jungwoo streamed. He's so funny and sweet. Not to mention he would stick up for you with no hesitation when you were with the other streamers.

"I would've just slapped him as soon as he said you take his "jokes" too seriously."

"I know." You melted into Jungwoo as he traced shapes into your arm. Your cheek squished against his bare chest as his other hand smoothed over your hair. Your legs tangled together under the covers. Jungwoo kicks them away, muttering something about being hot. The motion causes his legs to brush firmly against your panty clad core. You whimper, digging your nails into the flesh of his bicep.

"Are you needy, princess?"

You nod sheepishly, humping lightly against his leg. He climbs on top of you, spreading your legs apart with his own. He grinds his bulge against your mound, sending shots of electricity up your legs. You look up into his dark eyes. His dark hair messy and half wet. His mouth hung open as he looked at your half naked figure with want.

You twitch, trying desperately to get as much friction as possible. His motions deepen as he grinds against you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His thrusts get shorter, brushing perfectly against your hardened clit. Your lips brush against his, both breathing heavily. Your moans become audible as your legs quiver slightly.

He pulls away before freeing his newly erect penis. He jerks it a few times before pushing your panties aside and entering your sopping hole. Strangled noises escape your throat as he bottoms out. You use your legs to pull him even closer. You whimper loudly at how deep his tip burrowed into you.

His hips are poetic as they sway back and forth. His cock was warm and hard as a rock as it moved in and out of you. Your noses bump against each other as he bites your bottom lip. His moans whine and tempt as they twist into your ears. He bites the lobe of your left ear as his love noises increase in volume. You dig your heels into his ass as you let out shallow open-mouthed breaths.

Jungwoo slides his hands underneath your ass to give it a firm squeeze. While doing so he pushes himself even deeper than you imagined he could go. You curse and writhe, raking his back with your fingernails. You bite his shoulder, tears threatening to spill as your stomach tightens. Your wetness spread all over both of your upper thighs. His cock was nearly lost in a sea of your juices as it plummeted deep inside you.

Getting closer, you start bucking upwards. You chased your high feverishly, encouraged by the passion behind your hatred for Johnny Suh. You thought of him. You thought of him as you snapped your hips towards Jungwoo's. You grunt hungrily, thighs quaking as you blindly chased your high.

"I'm so fucking close-" You breathe out as you grind your hips up to meet his. He snaps his hips against yours, movements more erratic and moans more determined. Your pelvis feels hot, stomach tightly wound, and legs going increasingly numb as his cock barreling into you sends you over the edge. Your moans border on a scream as you tug at Jungwoo's hair.

You trail your nails down his neck and back as he continues to thrust sloppily. His hips snap violently a few more times as he ribbons sperm into you. Your chests heave against each other, skin searing hot to the touch.

"Is all that pent up frustration gone now?" He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as he laughs. You just nod breathlessly. Your stomach flutters as he peppers soft kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

"I could tell that guy really pissed you off."

"Well it was more than just Johnny."

You were both silent for a moment.

“Taeyong too?” He lifts his head to look at you cautiously. You just nod wordlessly.

“It’s also the constant losing fight. I think it may be better to just separate myself from them completely.”

Jungwoo slides off of you, snuggling into your side.

“It must be really difficult.”

You pout slightly, tears pricking at your eyes. You were being such a baby.

“Yeah.”

“Especially with Taeyong not siding with you before the toothpick intervened. I honestly thought you and Taeyong would be an item.”

“Me too.” You chuckled, it seemed so stupid now.

“But he’s in a relationship now, with someone he knows I’ve hated for years now.” Saying it out loud, you couldn’t chuckle anymore.

“This is just a shitty situation, huh?” You force a smile, looking over at Jungwoo. He was far from smiling, however. It almost looked like he was going to cry for you.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, ___.” Jungwoo snuggled even closer to you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder again.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied numbly. You didn't know if you regretted Lucas telling his stream or... the entire thing.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　끝　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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shrike-nest · 3 years

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D&D Character Ask Post

In Honor of D&D, Here are 100 Questions answered about my character Alistair. Done from a prompt reposted by @mechmech and @scatterpatter , and also gonna tag my DM @aerial-ace97

What Does He Smell like: Ozone, Sandalwood, Pine

Voice: A light baritone, sometimes slipping into a bit of a lit from his native island (similar to a Scottish brogue/Irish lit)

Motivator: Before he met his group? Power and Adrenaline. Now? Redemption.

Most embarrassing memory: (TW: Animal Death) He doesn’t really remember this as he was terribly drunk at the time, but he and his crew stopped in a city that held goats as a sacred animal. With a terribly “bright” idea, he wondered how far a goat could fly? Because goats fly. Throws the goat off of the third floor of a building. Then proceeds to have a not very respectful Coffin Dance-style funeral for said goat.

How does he react to pain: Lots of swearing and anger.

What does he wear: He wears dragon scale armor that has three deep gouges in it from where he was previously killed. A faded and slightly ragged admiral style coat on top, leather breeches, and give this man some high calf pirate boots. He also always wears a green headband to keep his hair back, and occasionally an eyepatch to hide his demonic eye.

Most positive relationship: In terms of character development, it might be Torvid, as Torvid inspires Alistair to be a better moral person. In terms of wholesomeness? His partner/hopefully soon fiancé, Atwater. Atwater was able to show Alistair that he can have positive love in his life, without having to fight so hard for it.

The weirdest thing he has ever eaten: Corren’s cooking

Sleep: He suffers from nightmares and now more recently night terrors. Because he technically doesn’t need to sleep from effects of his class, he often chooses not to. However, when he does sleep, he sleeps hard, snores lightly, and octopus cuddles anything in his bed.

Favorite food/ kinda food: He actually really loves a dish similar to pao de queijo (Brazillian Cheese Bread).

Most insecure about: His ability of being a leader.

Like to wear: He enjoys fairly tight fitting clothing to prevent too much flapping when he flies or moves around quickly.

How do they react to feelings of guilt: Denial and self doubt

React to betrayal: A very quick and violent anger that chills to a long lasting and cold hatred. He doesn’t forgive easily.

Greatest achievement: After being mutinied against by his former crew, being wanted and supported as a leader for his current adventuring party

Too little sleep: Pretty robotic, but he doesn’t get exhausted anymore or feel any physical effects of not getting sleep due to his class.

What are they like drunk: He’s a very cheerful and boisterous drunk. Makes and laughs at many jokes. Can fall into a melancholy pretty easily though if he thinks on certain thoughts too long. Deflects with humor!

Music likes: 80s hair band music, and 70s-80s rock.

Right or left-handed: Right handed

Fears: He’s claustrophobic, but also has a fear of being vulnerable and getting his heart broken again.

Favorite weather: Sunny Day with a slight chill.

Favorite color: He really likes blue.

Collect anything: Well technically he used to collect gold and other high priced artifacts. He doesn’t really collect anything anymore.

Hot or cold weather: This man controls the weather. He enjoys his thermostat of life to be at a nice 70 degrees F.

Eye color: His natural eye color is an emerald green. His left eye is a demon cat eye, with a gold iris and black sclera.

Race/ ethnicity: He’s a human in the world of Sekrezia, but in IRL, he’s probably northern UK.

Hair color: Ginger/Auburn, with some sun-bleached streaks in it.

Happy where they are currently: … Well his adopted sister and brother just died in the last game so nah. BUT- as kind of a whole, he’s happy to be where he is now as a person compared to how he used to be.

Morning person: Yup. He tends to wake with the sun if he sleeps, and once he’s awake- he’s awake.

Sunrise or sunset: He loves the sunset. It calms and amazes him that he survived another day.

Messy or organized: He’s messy. Kind of an ADHD procrastination kind of messy.

Pet peeves: Disloyalty, undeserved ego trips, other weather veins that mess with his control of the weather,

Objects of significant importance: O’Malley, his halberd. He earned his weapon when he became a captain, and it has saved his life numerous times after.

Least favorite food: After being stuck in a cave for over a year? Anything with mushrooms.

Least favorite color: He’s not a fan of dark reds or browns. Reminds him too much of dried blood. (oooh edgelord)

Least favorite smell: Cauterized Flesh, Rotting Fish

The last time they cried: Last game. But before that? When he found out that Torvid killed his father. Before before that? When Atwater died. Before before before that? When he woke up alone in the desert after the mutiny.

Were they with anyone when they cried: His party. His party and both sides of the war that was going on. And no one.

One time they got injured: He actually died in a fight with a dragon, not with the dragon, but with a bat crony of the dragon.

Scars: He’s got a scar in the shape of a jagged p on his right cheek, a claw scar from when his eye was gouged out, and he also has the marks from the bat crony when he died. Alistair also has lightning scars on his arms that led to minor nerve damage that occurred when he first was learning how to use his magic.

Mental health issues: ADHD, Depression, Anxiety

Bad habits: Lashing out when he doesn’t know how to process his emotions

Why might someone dislike him: … Lemme get the list. So if we ignore the fact that he used to be a feared sky pirate, earning the nickname “Orphaner of the Skies”… he can be a flippant asshole sometimes. He can often forget to stay in touch and update people on important topics. Also, some may dislike him because he insists on being their dad (*cough* CORREN *cough*)

Why might someone love him: Alistair is very loyal to those he trusts and he can often fall into caretaker type tendencies.

Believe in ghosts: Yeah. He’s seen them and fought them. Also dated one.

Anyone they would trust with their life: Mecha, Corren, Tristan, Atwater, Jerry, Mephistopheles, and Torvid.

Romantically interested in anyone: Atwater!

Dating/ Married: He is currently dating Atwater

Like surprises: Not really

Birthday: His weave day is in Summer, Sibelya 13th.

Celebrate their birthday: He used to. Doesn’t really anymore, mostly because he hasn’t had much reason to celebrate or the time.

Family: His parents are dead, but he still has his adopted aunt Imelda. He also views Tristan as his brother, Corren as his little brother, Mecha as his sister. Atwater is his romantic partner, and he is now the step father of Atwater’s child, Crestwell. He also is the adopted father of Liam (deceased) and Liam’s twin sister, Serana.

Close to their family: Yes

MBTI type: ENTP

Zodiac signs: His Sekrezian Sign is Xamatang, The Coming Storm

Hogwarts house: Gryffindor

Alignment; Chaotic Neutral but he’s steadily making his way towards Chaotic Good

Nightmares: Yes. Often about his ex, Ghost. He also has nightmares about losing those he considers family.

View on death: If it happens, it happens. Once someone is at peace, leave them be.

Something they always laugh at: Seeing his group smile and joke around.

When bored, what do they do: Fly, tinker with magic, practice magic, research magic.

Enjoy the outside: Very much so.

Accent: I can’t replicate it, but I imagine it’s somewhere between a Scottish and Irish accent. However it has faded as he hasn’t been home in a very long time.

Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, the first reaction: *Poke it*, *Look at it*, *Look around*… *Shrug*, My cake now.

If they knew they were going to die what would they do/ say: He would find his party, if he can- gives them hugs, and hopefully be able to die watching the sunset. “Find what makes you happy and hold on to it. You all deserve to have happiness in your lives.”

Feelings about sex: He likes it. He also has a pretty damn high libido.

Sexuality: Bisexual

Squeamish around blood: Somewhat. It makes him uncomfortable now because he’s scared that he likes the sight of it still.

Anything they find gross: Rotting bodies and decaying bodies.

TV trope: Father Figure, Tragic Backstory, Anti-Hero

Enjoy helping people: Yes, he finds it comforting, like a form of redemption.

Allergies: Minor shellfish allergy

Pet: Does Meph count as a pet? I mean, he usually hangs around Alistair as a cat.

Quick to anger: Depends on the situation, but yes.

How patient is he: Not very. He gets very jittery and anxious easily. He’s getting slightly better at that.

Good at cooking: Somewhat, he tends to overdo it on the spice.

Favorite insult:” It’s cute when you try.”

How do they act when happy: The biggest doofiest smile, and he can’t help but laugh occasionally.

What do they do when they learn about others’ fears: He keeps it secret, but tends to go out of his way to help them through it, or help them avoid their fears.

Trustworthy: If you earn his trust, yes. A million times in return.

Do they try to hide their emotions: If it benefits him? Yes. And he’s damn good at it. But if he feels it’s not necessary to do so, his heart is on his sleeve.

Exercise regularly: Yes. His constitution is ridiculous and so he often finds ways to keep up and improve his stamina and strength even further.

Comfortable with the way they look: Yeah. He can get a lil cocky about it. But this is a man who uses bar soap on his hair.

Features they find attractive on others: Eyes and hands.

Personalities they find attractive: He likes those that can keep up with him intellectually, but also on a wittier level as well. He really views self-confidence as attractive.

Do they like sweet foods: Yes.

Age: He just turned 42.

Tall or short: He’s 6’0”

Glasses or contacts: Nah

Consider herself attractive: Yup

Sense of humor: Sexual humor, dad jokes ftw, but can also throw in some dark and self-deprecating humor nowadays.

What mood are they in most often: Most recently, a sort of determined melancholia. But he used to be very self-assured, confident, and flippant.

What angers them: Child abuse, betrayal, hurting those he cares about.

Outlook on life: “Just keep going. Roll with the punches. Because that sun is going to rise again, and you’re going to get to try again, try something new, find something new.”

What makes them sad or depressed: Thinking of those he has lost, thinking of Ghost, falling into his own insecurities.

Greatest weakness: He often jumps into situations without thinking them through. He tends to be very “leap before he looks”

Greatest strength: His determination and resiliency

Something they regret: Losing contact with his crew and Imelda, not being a better leader in his eyes, his past of piracy, and in some ways- all his deals with Mephistopheles, even the one that granted him his magic.

Biggest accomplishment: Isn’t this the same as greatest achievement?

Favorite memory: Sitting by the campfire with his group and all of them laughing, joking, and smiling with each other. With the good ol occasional ribbing at Corren’s expense.

#D&D #Alistair Stormcrown #Sekrezia #The F.U.C.K.s

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joonsdiary · 4 years

Text

worth fighting for (04)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre/warning: fluff, angst / royalty au, historical au / tw: poor attempts at humour (as usual) mentions of blood/wounds, a little bit of action, even more pining—would this be considered slowburn now? hm... unless? word count: 7,574

summary: fresh out of the perils of war, jungkook didn’t think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.

FOUR.

Suffocating tension hangs in the air like a thick fog and Jungkook mentally curses the chambermaid for her feebleness, revealing something she should not have. He knows the situation is dire and stakes are high, therefore it’s quite easy to have a slip of the tongue. But she still should have known better.

He regards the three men with compelling confidence, hoping they do not see right through his façade. One of the men leans forward and murmurs something to the other. The eldest of them throttle closer to him and Jungkook straightens his back and pulls on his horse’s rein to guide him closer towards the stranger.

“Your Majesty?” Finally comes the bandit’s hoarse voice, eyes flickering at the carriage behind Jungkook with interest.

Jungkook tries not to make it obvious he’s reaching for the sword strapped around his waist as he shrugs at the man with feigned disinterest. He did not want to incite a fight that he knows will put you in danger. Yet his hand couldn’t help but hover subtly over the handle of his trusted weapon.

“Shouldn’t we all treat our wives like royalty they deserve to be?” Jungkook states slowly, making sure to get his point across despite feeling squeamish over his choice of words. In his mind, it sounded way more chivalrous than when he’d uttered them. Hearing it echo out of his mouth feels silly and inept.

Apparently, it sounds as ridiculous to the strangers as it did to Jungkook because they look at each other with brows knitted in confusion. The two younger men snicker to themselves, meanwhile, the one Jungkook’s talking to merely rolls his eyes.

“We aren’t too far from the palace, so it may be an actual royalty riding in that carriage.” He mocks, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the deep scar running on the right side of his cheek. He deduces he could be the leader since the other two listen intently and nod along to his statement.

“The question is…” the leader trails off, eyeing Jungkook with a newfound interest. “Why would a member of the royal family ride along on this particular path, and with seemingly just one palace guard? That is what you are, no?”

The bandit regards Jungkook, but he doesn’t flinch, fighting hard not to give anything away. He made sure to pick clothes that didn’t stand out too well, for all intents and purposes. Therefore, he donned garments usually worn by merchants — light sapphire outer coat with navy blue pants — yet they’ve managed to figure him out, much to Jungkook’s dismay

Jungkook is slightly appalled that they’d assess him as a mere palace guard—no offence to his dear friend Mingyu — he did not come all this way to be belittled in spite of his accomplishments. Then something in Jungkook’s mind clicks. And if one listens closely enough, they’ll hear rusty gears slowly churning, the crevices of his mind being put to good use. If they don’t know I’m a general, then that must mean…

“I’m sure you’re all very fine gentlemen.” He begins once more, a pretence of calmness intertwining between the cadence in his voice despite his stomach twisting into several knots. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d let us pass through—”

“Does this man think we’re idiots, San?” The man with a scar on his cheek cuts Jungkook off, an apparent smirk forming on his lips. He glances at the young boy beside him, who Jungkook believes is not old enough to be running around with men who are up to no good.

“I think he does, m’lord,” the young boy nods and by this time Jungkook’s grip is firm around the handle of his sword.

“Lord…?” Jungkook’s brow furrowed in confusion, eyeing the man with the scar. “May I ask whose bannermen you all are?”

It’s possible for them to not know the great families of Sejo if they are truly outsiders. He is sure they’re not his family’s bannermen, of course, as he prides himself in being well-informed when it comes to putting faces into names. So, that rules his family out; he doubts his father will do something as scandalous as to send people to possibly assassinate the princess – he sees no reason for him to do so.

The Kim family, on the other hand, rarely let their men wander without carrying a banner that showed their sigil. He’s sure the Knight of the Flowers – as he recalls you’ve oh-so-fondly referred to the current head of the Kim family – has a lot on his plate after inheriting his father’s title.

Surely it can’t be your own family. The king will let his general know if he planned on having his men follow him. But it didn’t make sense because they came from the opposite direction; he doubts they’re the royalty’s bannermen.

Perhaps it’s the Yoon’s; their recent seclusion and the fact that they barely provided aid and garrison during the previous war makes Jungkook think they could be behind this mess. The Yi’s of Naath, despite being a recently assimilated part of Sejo, will not dare defy the crown and send men after the royal princess whether they knew of the king’s plans or not.

“Aren’t you a little too curious for a mere merchant – or so you claim? Your clothes may conceal your true identity but the weapons you carry betray your theatrics.” The man smirks in a way that contorts his scar, making him seem more intimidating. “Surely, you are aware mercenaries can’t be bannermen.”

Hearing him admit he’s a mercenary alarm Jungkook because it means they didn’t run into these three men by accident. Someone possibly paid them to be here. He combs his brain, attempting to name those who know about the plan and comes up with a very concise list. Since the king wanted the meeting of the two royalty to be kept a secret, there aren’t many who know about the situation and are powerful enough to hire mercenaries.

Jungkook glances at Jimin, who nods towards him with a look of acknowledgement; he’s ready.

He may not know Jimin personally, having formally met him days before they had to depart the castle, but he’s heard from you that Jimin also fought during the war. He was in General Kim’s garrison, so Jungkook doesn’t doubt Jimin’s ability to brandish a sword if it has to come down to that situation.

“I’m cutting to the chase because this is getting extremely tedious, especially for an old man like me.” Scarface — Jungkook thinks the name has a nice ring to it — declares, and as soon as he does, the two young men on either side unsheathe their sword. Jungkook couldn’t help but snort because it seems like a disgrace to classify their needle-of-a-blade amongst those that were forged from the mightiest Sejon steel. But perhaps now is not the right time to be comparing who crafts better weapons.

“We want whoever you’re carrying inside that carriage,” Jungkook is surprised when San speaks up, his meek voice not suiting his wicked intentions.

He inhales slowly before sighing. He puffs his cheeks out in an attempt to look annoyed and confused, hoping to still put up the air of pretence. “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I have no patience to stick around. As I said, my wife has to see a physician right away.”

Jungkook recognizes the futility of repeating himself over and over to the men who pose a threat to your safety. But if he stalls further, it could help him figure out who’s behind all of this. He’s learned that impatient people tend to reveal their intentions when they don’t get their way. Or perhaps he just likes how the word my wife rolls seamlessly off the tip of his tongue. The thought of domesticated life with you is enough for the muscles in his cheeks to twitch, pulling his lips into an undeniable grin.

He can’t decide between the two, but he prefers the latter.

“I guess we’ll just have to take her by force,” the man with a scarred cheek sneers before nodding towards Jungkook.

He didn’t have time to assess what’s about to come. But he hears one of the horses neighing loudly before he notices San is racing towards him, his blade pointed out. Jungkook unsheathes his sword just in time to unhand San without injuring him. He loses balance before falling off his horse completely.

The second young man, who’s also around San’s age, comes up at Jungkook much stealthier, catching him completely off guard. The blunt end of the sword scratches the nape of his neck ever so slightly which startles Jungkook, causing him to slash the young man’s torso. The younger recoils back and relinquishes his sword.

Jungkook scoffs as he slips off his horse before walking towards scar-face confidently.

“You consider yourself mercenaries?” He mocks and Scarface’s jaw tightens in response. From the corner of his eye, he observes the two of them scramble to their feet to gather their weapons and Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s been in enough spars and had plenty of experience to know the two are novices, and quite frankly awkward.

To put it simply, he knows they don’t have an inkling on how to properly brandish a damn sword and at least pretend like they know what they are doing.

In a few swift moves, both young men were down on their knees once more, much to Jungkook’s dismay. It brings him no pleasure to trample over enemies—especially those younger than him. He knows what it’s like to witness such cruelty at such a young age.

“Stay down, kid,” he murmurs to San before patting him once on his shoulder. The younger man grunts menacingly and moves away from his touch.

“You’re not just a mere palace guard, are you?” Scarface says slowly as if he’s still deliberating the certainty of his claim. Jungkook holds his hands up and shrugs. He knows better than to give anything away to the person attempting to kill him.

The mercenary pulls out his longsword and throws it down the ground.

“I think it’s only fair if we fight with our fists. The winner gets the package while the loser receives the privilege of dying.”

“None of this is fair,” Jungkook sneers and eyes the mercenary, who merely shrugs. “And don’t you dare refer to my —”

“Your wife, yes, my apologies, m’lord,” the mercenary mocks and mimes a half-bow. Jungkook sighs defeatedly, placing his sword down near the hooves of his horse.

Not too far away, Jimin is busy ensuring the two young men won’t run away.

Jungkook gets into a sparring stance, his hands clenched into fists and his knees slightly bent. The mercenary mimics his movements and it irks Jungkook to no end, feeling as if he is being parroted for the sake of exaggeration.

He’s in a defensive position, his hands slightly obscuring his face for protection. The mercenary’s right arm flinches so Jungkook’s instinct tells him to dodge left but when he does, he is met with the man’s uppercut which strikes him square in the jaw.

He stumbles back from the sheer force of the blow, but he’s more taken aback by his lack of awareness; in hindsight, he should have seen that one coming. He hears a small gasp from behind him but doesn’t turn to see who it could have been, admittedly terrified that doing so could put him at an even more disadvantage.

Scarface chuckles and Jungkook fights the urge to tackle him down. Focus, Jungkook.

Jungkook notices that the mercenary is off-balance every time he shifts between his feet, seemingly nursing an injured part of his right leg. A possible sign of weakness doesn’t surprise him, and he does his best to maintain the same composure as to not reveal his motives. Beads of sweat roll down the nape of his neck as he waits for a sliver of opening; it doesn’t help that he towers over Jungkook and seems much heavier than him now that he sees him up close.

Scarface loses footing and Jungkook takes the chance to swipe his leg with his right foot before jabbing him square in the stomach. The latter groans, recoiling with his back hunched.

“Why don’t you tell me who you really are, and what you’re doing here?” Jungkook seethes. The mercenary merely chuckles before looking at him, eyes gleaming with amusement despite his disadvantaged state.

“My apologies. The name’s Pyo,” his familiarity and friendliness irk Jungkook. “And I thought I had made my intentions clear over and over, and over again.”

The grin on Pyo’s face morphs into a menacing scowl. That is the only thing Jungkook remembers seeing before feeling a benign coldness creeping from his torso to his chest. It’s only seconds after that he realizes the pooling liquid of blood seeping throughout his thin tunic that he notices a small blade wedged somewhere in his midriff.

Well, that can’t be good.

“General!”

Jungkook hears Jimin’s voice laced with panic, sounding far-reaching and muffled despite only being a few steps away. His knees threaten to buckle beneath him, but he makes the effort to stand his ground, refusing to let the scum mercenary think he’s won.

Jimin rushes to catch Jungkook’s teetering body before he hits the ground. It’s clear the mercenary is not threatened by Jimin’s presence at all when he makes no effort to stop him.

“You’re a general? And all this time you made me think of you as a mere palace guard,” Pyo says, fingers skimming over the scar on his cheek thoughtfully before shrugging. “Anyway, they’ll be glad to know I stole the princess from the protection of the general, himself. Perhaps I’ll get double the amount I’m owed.”

Jungkook’s head shoots up at the mention of you. With Jimin propping him up, there is almost nothing stopping Pyo from taking you. Jimin seems to notice this as well and mutters an apology to Jungkook before letting him go and grabbing the nearly forgotten sword on the ground.

Pyo scoffs, unimpressed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a princess to save.”

Before Pyo could turn away from him and Jimin, Jungkook hears the faint whistle of an arrow slicing through the air. He hears a loud grunt and before he could blink up to see what has happened, the mercenary falls on his side with a resounding thud. He watches in confusion as blood sputters out of Pyo’s neck where the arrow has lodged itself deeply into. Truly a gruesome sight that makes his stomach clench, but he can’t bring himself to look away. His head spins frantically, and he could practically taste bile crawling its way up to his throat.

Only when he hears another snapping of the bow that he wakes from his stupor. He doesn’t see where the arrow lands in particular – somewhere in his back perhaps?

He blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Where in the heavens did that come from in the first place?

“Your Highness!”

Jimin practically squeals beside him, before sprinting away from Jungkook. He looks up to see you dangerously out in the open. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Yet he couldn’t help as his jaw slackens in awe as you lower the weapon slowly, your eyes locked onto his. Neither you nor he wavers until you collapse on the ground, the crossbow slipping from your grasp. Jimin is quick to react and grasps your shoulders firmly as he kneels beside you.

Jungkook hisses and breathes in through his gritted teeth — it’s just a knife to the torso; I’ve experienced worse.

Miyoung rushes out of the carriage to help Jimin prop you up, knees wobbling and all.

“I’m fine, it’s just…I was nervous about —” you pause, eyeing Jungkook before mustering a foolish grin. “That was the first time I stretched my legs in hours. I’m fine.”

“How did you even manage to obtain a weapon?” Jimin admonishes you in the slightest, though it’s apparent that he’s only worried you could have gotten hurt in the process. You reply with a sheepish smile, but Jungkook is unsure because everybody is moving and spinning in all directions and wait…why the hell are there two princesses?

“I might or might not have gone through your belongings behind the carriage.”

“I tried stopping her from going out but —”

“I hate to break your little chat but…a little help would be nice.”

Jungkook manages to string a few words, attempting to stand up but failing miserably. He ends up landing on his knees before he sees you running up to him, with a dumb worried look painted across your face. Your brows are furrowed together in concentration, cheeks tinted from the heat and mouth agape as if you’re a fish out of water. Your hair is completely dishevelled and out of place, strands swinging wildly in the air.

For the first time in a while, Jungkook allows himself to laugh unprompted; a kind of giggle that bubbles up from the depths of his stomach and blossoms its way up to his chest. His shoulders shake uncontrollably as you place his arms around your shoulder in an attempt to help him up. Jimin rushes to follow you and does the same on his left side.

“I think he’s starting to become delirious. Might be loss of blood.” Jimin mumbles as he grunts before hoisting Jungkook up to his feet, bearing most of his weight so you don’t have to.

Not really, Jungkook thinks to himself. Or maybe he mumbled it out loud — he isn’t certain at this point. It’s just that…her face was so damn hilarious. Running up to me with that expression and all.

“I have ointments and bandages that my mother asked me to pack.”

You rush out of Jungkook’s grasp and Jimin grunts, bearing all of Jungkook’s weight in one swift movement. Miyoung is conflicted and is unsure whether to follow you or to help Jimin out but in the end, you rush back out while carrying the supplies wrapped neatly in white cloth.

“We should probably set him down somewhere,” Jimin announces rather obviously.

“Inside the carriage is an ideal place,” you murmur, and Jungkook nods in a daze. Jimin glances behind him before wrapping Jungkook’s arm around you.

“Here, you take him inside. I’m going to deal with those two out here.”

Jungkook sways in your direction and he has enough decency not to lean all his weight on you. Miyoung holds the door open and Jungkook climbs weakly inside, letting his body fall back into the cushion. There is a brief sense of relief Jungkook feels now he’s certain of yours as well as everyone else’s safety. He slowly sinks within the comfort of the soft chair, allowing himself to focus on something other than the throbbing pain in his waist.

The next few seconds feel like a whirlwind of blurred scenarios, but he remembers being asked to bite down on a thickly rolled cloth. Jungkook finds it odd at first, but he knows it’s not the right time to question the motives of those that are trying to help him.

He attempts to comprehend the need for the bunched-up cloth in his mouth when—

“Augh,” his eyes widened as he groaned, hands clutching the nearest object which happened to your arm.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but at least the worst part is done.” You whisper soothingly before lowering the arrow beside you. Jungkook visibly relaxes as his eyes slowly close but you gently tap him on his cheek to prevent him from doing so. “Probably best if you stay awake.”

Jungkook grunts in response but follows your instructions, making sure to keep his eyes open, even if it’s just halfway. He removes the cloth from his mouth and watches as you quickly disrobe him of his bloody tunic. He’s tempted to say something, his lower lip edging between his teeth.

He ignores the odd looks that Miyoung keeps giving him and focuses on you instead. It’s hard for him to miss the bright red tint of your cheeks as you continue to tend to his wounds. He’s inclined to crack a joke and poke fun at your embarrassed state, but he thinks it’s probably best to keep his mouth shut this time around. You are dressing his injury, after all, and if he acts up god knows how you’ll choose to retaliate.

You unknowingly place a hand on his bare chest as you shift around to apply ointment directly at his wound. He clears his throat as his cheeks heat up from the contact and turns his head away from you, only to be met by Miyoung’s knowing grin.

“Are you feeling feverish, General? Your face is looking as bright as an apple,” she teases, and he makes the briefest eye contact with you before looking elsewhere once again.

“If that’s the case, that’s not good. The wound might be infected.”

The concern laced with your voice makes Jungkook’s chest constrict as if the airways to his lungs had been blocked completely. Is this particular feeling a side effect of the injury as well? He, too, is starting to believe he’s becoming delirious despite knowing the injuries he’s suffered are not dire enough to put him in that state.

“How do you know so much about this, anyway?” Jungkook murmurs, referring to your seemingly vast knowledge of wound treatments and infections.

“I trained with a physician a while back, shortly before the war started. I thought it would be valuable in case my father permitted me to help, even just something small like tending wounds. I was not allowed, of course,” your forehead creases either in concentration or annoyance. Possibly both.

You press a folded linen gently on top of his wound and Jungkook moans in discomfort. He stirs to move his body to a different position, but you press the hand you have on his chest. You quietly instruct Miyoung to wrap gauze over the linen before too much blood seeps into the cloth.

“Well, aren’t I lucky you decided to come along on this exciting journey with me?”

He couldn’t help it. He has to crack a joke, or else he will burst from overheating, courtesy of his rapidly beating heart.

“I’m delighted you’re aware you’d be completely helpless without me,” you grin up at him as Miyoung finishes tying up the bandage around his torso.

“Done! You’re good as new, General Jeon,” Miyoung sighs in relief, and Jungkook grins up at her.

“Stay here and rest. I’ll go and ask Jimin if he brought a mortar and pestle with him so I can prepare medicine for you to drink,” you instruct Jungkook as he struggles to put his tunic back on. He winces in pain as he extends his arm out. “Maybe you shouldn’t move around too much yet.”

“How am I supposed to get dressed, then?” Jungkook whines as he cautiously peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, hoping you’d take the bait.

“Here, give it to me,” you roll your eyes and take Jungkook’s clothes from his grasp.

“Why don’t I go ask Jimin if he has the supplies, instead?” Miyoung takes the medicine from you and grins at Jungkook. She leans in towards you to whisper something Jungkook couldn’t hear and watches with curiosity as your forehead creases, features forming into a scowl. Miyoung hops out of the carriage before you can say anything else.

“What?” you eye him with suspicion.

“What, what? You’re just going to sit there and leave me in this state of undress?” he mimes over his chest and you grumble, motioning for him to come closer.

“You’re full of it sometimes, you know?” you roll your eyes at his theatrics. But it does nothing to deter Jungkook’s foolish attempts at enlightening the mood. You frown and he immediately leans towards you, head bowing forward as a signal for you to continue.

Alright, I get it. I’ll behave.

Jungkook murmurs a small thanks as soon as his head pops out of the collars of his tunic. The crimson hue on your cheeks is unmistakable, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flit from his eyes down to his lips. He catches his lower lip between his teeth for good measure to see how you’d react. He isn’t disappointed in the way you turn your head completely to look at the windows, pretending as if you hadn’t been staring in the first place.

Jungkook blinks.

Is he being delirious, or did he just think you’d wanted to kiss him? Or did he want it to happen?

Probably just the loss of blood. It has to be. He continues to dress in silence, carefully pulling each arm through individual sleeves.

“Maybe I should’ve left you to bleed out and just escaped with Jimin and Miyoung.”

Jungkook chuckles and winces as soon as he does, the pain of his wound is somehow becoming more unbearable every fleeting second.

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you? You’re probably itching to have some alone time with Jimin.”

Jungkook swears to the gods he saw your eyes twinkle for the briefest moment before you break out into a beaming grin as if you’re agreeing with what he’s said. Your response is not at all what he expects, so his brows knit in confusion.

“That’s the first time you addressed him by his first name.”

“Was it that big of a deal?” Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound completely like a pompous prick, but was it that big of a deal? He quickly concludes that the answer to his previous question (which was more of an attempt to torment you, really) is yes, and decides to switch the topic.

“I mean it though. Thank you.”

“I can’t have you dying on me, General Jeon. You still have to deliver me to the Northerners in one piece, right?”

Jungkook is taken aback by the ambivalent tone of your voice accompanied by the solemn smile on your face. In an instant, he’s pulled back to the reality you’re faced with along with the true weight of what this trip entails. His eyes search for any hint of regret in yours; one that will make him turn this whole expedition around if you so much give him the tiniest hesitation.

But all he finds is silent determination, and he has no choice but to respect that. He wants to sympathize with you and the situation you’re under, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to undermine the sacrifice you’ve made. He knows that’s the price you’re willing to offer for the sake of peace.

I hope it’s worth it.

“I hope so, too,” you sigh deeply and Jungkook’s eyes widen. He’s certain he didn’t state the phrase out loud.

“Your Highness, I didn’t mean it like I was opposing the king’s decision—”

“Hey, you two! Get back here!” Jimin’s roaring voice cuts Jungkook off, and you quickly turn away from him to see what the commotion is about. He attempts to follow, but you stop him before he could get up.

“Stay. That’s an order,” you instruct sternly.

Jungkook doesn’t have the time to respond as you rush out of the carriage. He pokes his head out of the window just in time to see Jimin chasing the two captives who’re now apparently fleeing.

“Jimin, stop! Just let them go!” You scream out, and it’s enough to make Jimin halt his tracks. He whips his head around to look at you quizzically before turning back to the other two who are now too far to track down. “It’s not worth the trouble. Plus, they were merely children.”

“How noble of you.” Jungkook shakes his head disapprovingly, though he is out of earshot for you to hear what he’s said.

“Let’s just hope they don’t come back,” he says much louder this time.

You turn your attention to him and shrug. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t allow them to hurt you again.”

Miyoung approaches Jungkook and hands him the liquid concoction and encourages him to drink it.

“Her Highness: One. General Jeon: Zero.”

Jungkook turns to your smug figure and mimics your posture.

“Oh, it’s so on.”

* * *

Night falls quicker than you’ve anticipated it to. But after a long day full of surprises you welcome the calming breeze that blankets the dark surrounding. Your companions on this trip think otherwise as Miyoung urges Jimin to start the fire, grumbling about regretting not bringing a thicker tunic along.

“I have some spare shirts,” Jungkook announces, having come out of the tent he just finished setting up. Miyoung beams at him expectantly, rubbing her shoulders as if to explicitly show how uncomfortable she is with her thin clothing. “You can never go wrong with too much white tunic, as they say. So, I have a lot —”

“I do too!” Jimin stands abruptly from where he sits and holds up a finger at us, signalling for us to wait as he jogs towards the carriage. He leaves the dry twigs he’s collected earlier to presumably look for his spare articles of clothing. You roll your eyes as you make your way towards the middle of the camp and attempt to take a crack at starting a fire — something Jimin’s been patiently trying even before the sun has set, but unfortunately failing to cause even a tiny spark.

You grab some wood chipping and dried leaves, setting them carefully on top of several twigs. Inhaling sharply, as if to prepare yourself mentally for what you’re about to attempt, you wedge a twig between your palms before rubbing them in a quick motion.

“Your Highness, I don’t think it’s safe for you to do that,” Miyoung rushes to your side but you pay her no mind.

“Since when has she ever listened to any of our warnings? I’d say leave her be,” you hear Jungkook explain somewhere behind you. “She’s been asking for something to do. But honestly, how could we order her around —?”

“Ha!” You exclaim, which startles Miyoung. Your eyes widen in awe as you stare at the tender flicker of the small fire in front of you. “It’s the first time I’ve made one!”

The embers flicker out of existence just as rapidly as they began; it’s as if they weren’t there, to begin with. You slump your shoulders and pout. Jungkook doesn’t serve your cause as he doubles back in laughter as hints of smoke rising.

“It can’t be worse than Jimin’s attempt though, right?” You pout and Miyoung consoles you with a soft pat on your shoulder.

“You’re supposed to feed it more dried leaves and branches as soon as you see that small spark,” Jungkook explains as he grabs the stick from your hands. He mimics the actions you did earlier, only this time he follows his advice and stacks several branches to sustain the fire.

Not long after, the blaze grows bigger and Jimin returns with his promised garments.

“Should we really be stopping to rest near the place where we were ambushed?” Jimin questions warily as he sits beside Miyoung, across from where you and Jungkook are. Both of you watch as she successfully weaves her arms near the heat of the fire.

“We should be fine. The two of us will just have to take turns keeping watch throughout the night,” Jungkook muses, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Worse scenario would be the kid comes back with more mercenaries. Highly doubt it will happen soon, though.”

“What do you mean?” your forehead creases with worry, forgetting for a moment the prisoner who was able to flee your capture. Granted it was the fact they were mere children that made you pardon and not pursue them, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t dread their potential return. All four of you — but more so Jungkook — barely escaped unscathed, so you’d rather avoid trouble as much as you can.

“I’ve been thinking about something Jimin pointed out earlier — they’re dressed too warmly. I did notice Pyo was wearing a thick animal hide sewn into his tunic,” Jungkook trails off, lost in thought. You attempt to put the pieces together, unsure of what Jungkook means.

“It is a little unusual. Especially this time of the year; we don’t get enough cold weather to warrant wearing clothing with thick animal hides like that.”

“Precisely, Your Grace.” He extends his arms out and leans back, groaning as he puts his hand over his wound. “This was a calculated attack.”

“You think someone planned this?” Jimin asks with a worried expression evident on his face.

“It would seem that way. Especially because only a handful of people are aware of this. I’m unsure if the Mins kept their side of the bargain. Assuming they did, I’m certain only important people know of your arrival.” Jungkook elaborates and you agree with him.

“I’m not one to speculate, and wouldn’t normally run my mouth like this in front of other people but… you don’t think they were responsible for this, do you?”

You gulp and look at Jungkook who is bearing the same distraught expression as you. No one speaks for a while, and the crackling sound of the log burning is the only thing that fills the quietness in the air. Accusing a royalty of committing possible abduction is a hefty allegation, so no one dares to follow your statement.

“Based on what little evidence we have, that’s not entirely out of the conversation. It’s not hard to determine why they would do this—it could be some sort of payback for losing the war.” Jungkook warns in a hushed tone, causing everyone to feel a little bit on edge. “I should add that we cannot be hasty in our conclusion. We may be mistaken about our accusations.”

He is right, yet it’s strenuous to eradicate the roots of doubt once it’s planted in your consciousness.

You begin questioning everyone’s safety, as well as the decision not to bring as many guards as possible. It’s not because you doubt Jungkook’s ability. But even he’s not invincible, evident by the current gash on his torso. Which reminds you of the event prior.

You killed a man.

It had been a long day for you and everybody else, so you hadn’t given it much thought. But as soon as your nerves settle and weariness sinks in, the reality is becoming clearer to you.

Jimin had kindly disposed of the body once you told him not to worry about the young men who’d escaped, stating he is ‘used to that kind of thing’. He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and you didn’t question him further.

“What’s wrong? You look spooked.” Jungkook says softly beside you.

Your head dips and you swallow the taste of bile on your tongue.

“I still can’t wrap my mind around how I…” you pause, unsure of what to say next. Cold sweat forms on your back and your hands tremble at the image of the man lying on the ground, blood pooling around him. It hadn’t been your intention to end his life. But when he hurt Jungkook and declared his plans, you threw better judgement out of the window. “I’ve never had to witness somebody die in that manner…by my hands...”

The air grows tense at your words, and silence ensues. Your eyes stay glued to the fire, aware of the intense gaze Jungkook is pinning on you.

“It’s my fault,” your head whips up in surprise to meet Jimin’s sombre expression. “Had I acted quicker, perhaps General Jeon wouldn’t get hurt, and you wouldn’t have had to make that decision.”

“No! No…” you shake your head defiantly. “If I’d stay put like I was supposed to —”

“You’d have been taken from me,” Jungkook’s voice is stern but quiet. Before you have the time to process his words, he continues. “Or worse. If something were to happen to you, I swear —”

Jungkook pauses, eyes filled with unrest and trepidation despite the tone of anger in his voice. Your heart swells, and comfort blooms in your chest despite the cloud of fatigue that looms.

“I’m sorry you had to witness what you did, and I’m sure you did not intend to end his life. But I hope you don’t admonish yourself for wanting to save your own life.”

Jungkook’s voice is soft, almost lulling you to slumber. His hands reach for yours, strong grip offering warmth and comfort. The sincerity in his voice causes your heart to perform somersaults, and his proximity didn’t help. You will yourself to pluck your gaze away from him, fearing you might implode from the intensity of his gaze.

“I apologize for souring the mood,” you grin sheepishly toward Jimin and Miyoung as you retract your hand from Jungkook’s touch. He doesn’t concede, and your cheeks flare.

“Don’t apologize, Your Grace. I forget you’re not used to that kind of environment. It puts a lot into perspective.” Jimin offers a friendly smile, and it puts you at ease. “I didn’t know you were a skilled archer, though.”

His tone is light, eyes looking at you with wonder. You silently thank him for steering the conversation elsewhere. You shrug, grinning.

“Beginner’s luck, I suppose.”

“Modesty suits you well.” Jungkook mumbles, his tone teasing. “Bravery even more so.”

You squirm, not used to the attention he is giving you. It’s even worse than it had been in the carriage hours ago. You could excuse his flirting for the lack of blood pulsing through his veins. Is this even considering flirting? For all you know, it’s nothing but a mere complement. Your head swims in confusion.

“I should probably get some rest. My head feels like it’s being pummelled with a rock.”

You lean away from Jungkook as you stand, and he finally releases your hand. Miyoung begins to do the same but you shake your head, wanting to be alone with your thoughts even just for a while.

* * *

Outside, the three are quiet after your departure. The fragility that you’ve put on display has Jungkook on edge, rocking the boat of confidence he has about the trip. Despite his faith in his skill and the tenacity you’ve shown, having to face the uncertainty of possibly being ill-prepared doesn’t sit well with him. There’s no one to blame on today’s outcome but him, and it pains him to see you bear the brunt of his shortcomings.

Jungkook knows you’re capable of defending yourself, but the outcome of ending a life is something he didn’t think you’d be affected simply because he’s desensitized it.

Jungkook thinks back to his brother’s face and the listless look in his eyes, blood gushing out of his mouth.

There is too much red. Everywhere. The noise that surrounds him blurs into one cacophonous scream of agony and pain. His heart shatters into a million pieces as he cradles Hoseok’s cold, lifeless body.

Perhaps he’d been foolish to delude himself into thinking that he’s great — that the damn recognition and honour in the form of a medallion proves nothing. Not when he couldn’t save the one person who mattered to him more than his own life. It should’ve been me, instead of Hoseok.

Jungkook shakes his head and pushes the thoughts away. There’s no room to feel weak when three lives are counting on him. His nails dig into his palms as he clenches his jaw.

Pull yourself together, Jeon.

No one speaks for a while, and it gives him time to sort his feelings out. And by sorting, he means concealing and burying. He throws fresh lumber into the fire and stares at the burning log as the image of his brother’s demise is swallowed in the blaze.

Miyoung begins the conversation around the gossip of the palace, trying to guide the conversation away from today’s experience. Jungkook appreciates her sentiment.

Although it’s short-lived when the topic eventually lands on him.

“So, those rumours were true then?” Jimin grins in good nature. Any air of uneasiness between them has somehow dissipated, much to Jungkook’s surprise. “About your supposed ‘unrequited love’ for Lady Siyeon.”

“Word travels fast in the palace.” He chooses not to answer Jimin’s question, hoping it’s enough to divert him from the topic.

Jimin shrugs nonchalantly.

“It’s no surprise. Now tell me, philanderer.” Jimin’s eyes turn into smaller crescent shapes as his smile grows wider. “How exactly do you have so many women pining for you, yet you choose one that’s specifically not allowed by the rule of land to have a partner?”

“Philanderer’s a bit…” Jungkook murmurs and scoffs, taking slight offence to the scandalous nickname. He isn’t one to sleep around so carelessly.

“I’ve heard of court ladies being allowed by the king to leave, though. So, they’re not bound to the throne by the rule of the land,” Miyoung points out. Jungkook smiles sheepishly at her statement.

“I suppose I have a knack for being smitten to people who can’t reciprocate my feelings for them.”

Jimin winces after hearing Jungkook’s words. “Sounds like you need a good glass of ale, my friend.”

Jungkook laughs and nods in agreement, although he knows they can’t drink because they have to stay awake to keep watch as the evening rolls through. He is about to say something when your call for Miyoung cuts through the air.

“General Jeon. Jimin.” She bows to both men before hurriedly strutting over to your tent.

There is a short pause before Jimin turns to Jungkook once more.

“You say you have a ‘knack for being smitten to people’. That means it’s not the first time you’ve experienced this.”

“Nothing ever goes over your head, no? Also, you’re invested in this.”

Jimin raises both his hands before shrugging. “It fosters good conversation.”

“Recalling the memories of my rejection is your idea of a pleasant conversation?”

“What can I say? I love a good gossip.” Jimin admits, which prompts Jungkook to shake his head with a small smile tugging the corners of his lips.

He can’t resist sharing his thoughts, however. He’s never really had anyone to confide in terms of having feelings for someone. After all, when you’re entrusted to be a commanding officer in the middle of a war, mundane notions of sentiments come last among the lists of priorities.

“I was explicitly rejected by Lady Siyeon, yes,” Jungkook begins, before exhaling. “That felt nice to let out. Also just letting you know that I’m too damn sober for this type of discussion.”

Jimin chuckles and motions for him to continue.

“The previous one — well, that was a long time ago. I was too young to recall specific events, but I remember wanting to see her every chance I get. Times spent with her were scarce because she’s practically attached to my older brother at all times.”

Jungkook’s voice lowers every sentence. He’s terrified that if he speaks any louder, the imaginary barrier he’s built around him and Jimin will somehow crumble.

“I was taken by the way she carries herself. Despite her social upbringing, she always managed to treat everyone with the same attitude. Which I thought for an eight-year-old was quite impressive. She isn’t the type to look down on anyone, but at the same time, she doesn’t just let anyone step all over her. Truly a force to be reckoned with.

“Years pass, and I see her less often because my father made sure to start training me for combat earlier than he did Hoseok. So, I never saw much of her. Eventually, the feelings waned, until they were gone completely.”

I think.

Jungkook didn’t want to add the last phrase. Even inside his head, the sentence sounded doubtful and unconfident — two words he doesn’t like associating himself with.

“She liked Hoseok instead?” Jimin’s mumbles glumly.

“I never knew. In those years I never mustered the courage to go up and make a conversation with her.” Jimin’s mouth is agape, eyes wide with shock, but Jungkook continues. “Although she constantly had that look of admiration in her eyes every time, they were together.”

“I didn’t think there was going to be a day when I’d associate the words ‘General Jeon’ with ‘timid’.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. I was practically unapproachable; the complete opposite of my brother.”

Jimin shakes his head as he grins, still in disbelief.

“Why don’t you ask her now, then?”

Jungkook fights the urge to laugh, struggling to keep himself composed.

“Ah, well, she’s somewhere unreachable, I suppose,” he grins ruefully as he shakes his head, collecting his thoughts. “Moreover, that was a long time ago. Perhaps in the next lifetime.”

“Perhaps…” Jimin trails off.

Jungkook chucks another log to feed the fire, which roars back into life.

— prev ; next ; series masterlist

#jungkook scenarios #bangtan scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #writing #jungkook

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1heartfanfics · 4 years

Note

Could you do a fic where Dean has an upset tummy. He is all bloat and grumpy. Maybe on a hunt with Sam and trying to hide it. If you could squeeze it in I would love that. Sick Dean is my favourite 😊

I have been super uninspired to write lately, but I love this prompt, thanks so much!!

TW: depictions of vomit

“Hey Dean, come take a look at this,” Sam said, looking at the drag marks at the edge of the scene. “Dean?” he asked, glancing up at his brother when he received no response.

“What Sam?” Dean snapped.

“Drag marks,” he said, eyeing Dean suspiciously. What had him in such a bad mood all of a sudden?

Dean grunted, squatting down next to Sam to look at the lines in the dirt that Sam had noticed. Unfortunately for Dean, the crouched position put more pressure on his stomach, which had been rolling ever since they’d eaten lunch. Something really wasn’t sitting right with him.

“So she’s probably still alive, they’re holding her somewhere,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t make any damn sense,” Dean huffed, pushing himself back up to his feet. He brought a hand up to cradle his stomach as he straightened, feeling how it was bloated out against the waistband of his jeans.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam asked, standing up as well. Dean quickly removed his hand from his middle as soon as he saw Sam looking at him, fighting the urge to wince.

“Nothing,” Dean said quickly. “Let’s go to the morgue and look at the first body,” he continued, turning and walking back towards the car. He walked quickly to get some distance between him and Sam before letting out a low belch into his fist. His stomach was bubbling now, full of air that wanted out.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes, before following Dean to the impala. Something was obviously going on with his brother, but of course he was going to be a stubborn asshole about it like he always was.

They drove in silence, Dean swallowing down more burps that threatened to escape. Sam kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, but he knew better than to ask him again. Dean would tell him eventually. Probably.

Truthfully, Dean was dreading going to the morgue. Normally he had a pretty strong stomach, although not as good as Sam, but still, he did alright. Today though, his stomach really wasn’t feeling good, and holding in all the trapped air was starting to make him feel nauseous. This might not end well.

Dean let Sam talk their way inside, staying silent until the M.E. pulled out the body. He bit back a gag as the sheet was pulled away, seeing the mutilated body. Sam gave him a sharp look, shoving Dean away with his elbow as he leaned over to examine the body.

“You alright there agent?” the M.E. asked.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just gonna step outside -ulp- for some air,” Dean stammered before stumbling out of the room.

“He’s new to being a field agent, little squeamish,” Sam explained awkwardly, glancing worriedly over his shoulder as Dean fled the room. It was true that sometimes Dean’s stomach got a little shook up by the more gruesome stuff, but this seemed different.

“Understandable, this is a pretty rough one,” he responded, glancing down at the body, “I’m not sure what to make of it honestly. They said it was a bear attack right? But, I’ve never seen a bear do this.”

“Me neither,” Sam sighed. Psycho werewolf? Ruguru? He wasn’t sure what they were up against here. He’d never seen anything like this.

“Well I hope you figure out what it was, cause it sure wasn’t no bear,” the M.E. shook his head.

“Will do sir, thank you for your time,” Sam said, politely excusing himself to go find Dean.

He walked back out to the car to find Dean leaned against the drivers side door, a hand resting on his stomach. Aside from looking a little pale though, he seemed to be alright.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Fine,” Dean sighed, climbing back into the car as Sam did the same.

Sam frowned. Something still seemed off to him, but he knew that pressing the issue wouldn’t help, probably make matters worse if anything. “I think we should check out some of the abandoned factories we saw when we came into town. That’s probably a good place for whatever this is to hole up,” he said.

“We’re gonna go looking for the thing before we even know what we’re dealing with?” Dean asked, side eyeing him as he drove.

“We’ve got a live vic Dean, waiting seems like a worse idea. We find ‘em, get her out, then get out of there and come back for whatever it is tonight,” he shrugged.

“Fine,” Dean sighed, turning onto the highway to head back towards the edge of town.

Dean parked outside the row of abandoned buildings, which loomed over them in the dim light of the setting sun. He really didn’t want to do this. He’d managed to force out some of the gas while Sam finished inside, which depleted the queasiness, but he still felt heavy and full. His upset stomach was pressing up against the buttons of his flannel now, more bloated than he thought he’d ever been.

“You go left I’ll go right. Holler if you find anything,” Sam said, already striding away from the car.

“Let’s get this over with,” Dean muttered to himself, stifling a belch into his fist.

He’d looked through the first three warehouses already when he heard a loud thump and a shout. Sam. Upset stomach temporarily forgotten, Dean took off toward the commotion, heart pounding with adrenaline and worry for his brother’s safety.

He ran into the building on the far right, where the noise was coming from, and was immediately thrown across the room into the wall. He hid the floor with a thud, a loud belch forced up his throat from the pressure of landing on his stomach.

“Dean watch out!” Sam yelled. Dean rolled out of the way as something jumped him. Demon? What the hell are demons doing kidnapping people and shredding them? He kicked the demons legs out from under them, catching a glimpse of Sam running out the door carrying a girl. Good.

The demon recovered quickly, diving towards Dean, who caught an elbow in the face as he attempted to roll over and get off the ground. His stomach ached, sloshing painfully as it pushed against his clothes. He felt sluggish, barely evading the strikes of the demon, unable to do anything but defend it seemed like.

A particularly harsh cramp tore through his stomach, making him lose focus for just long enough. He received a heavy blow to the abdomen, which was too much for his sick stomach to handle. Before he even realized what was happening, he pitched forwards, vomiting his lunch onto the floor.

The demon was surprised enough by this turn of events, that he didn’t see Sam come up from behind him with the demon knife. In seconds the demon was on the floor, Sam standing over it, breathing heavily.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam asked, turning his attention to Dean.

“Upset stomach,” Dean muttered, avoiding Sam’s eyes in embarrassment. He slowly straightened up as Sam reached to help him.

“You’ve felt sick all day haven’t you?” Sam asked, giving Dean’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, muffling a burp into his fist as he began to trudge back towards the car, sliding a hand up under his shirt to rub at his stomach. He felt a lot less bloated now, but his stomach still ached.

“Keys?” Sam asked as the reached the impala.

“I can drive,” Dean grumbled, letting out a queasy belch.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna hurl again. Give me the keys,” Sam said, holding his hand out.

Dean sighed, reluctantly handing over the keys. He climbed into the passenger seat, sliding down as Sam asked their rescued girl where to take her and made sure she was alright.

By the time they’d dropped off the girl and headed back towards the hotel, Dean was ever so thankful he’d let Sam drive. He was leaned back, slumped against the window with his shirt rucked up and his pants unbuttoned, rubbing his bloated stomach and letting out belches into his fist.

“Seriously man are you okay?” Sam asked worriedly.

“Think I’m allergic to that stuff they put on the sandwich,” Dean moaned miserably.

“Ooh that really sucks man,” Sam said sympathetically.

“It really hurts Sammy,” Dean groaned as they pulled up to their motel. “Ohh god, I’m gonna be sick again,” he said, letting out a heave. He threw the door open as Sam parked, pitching over to vomit onto the parking lot.

“Shit, alright, take it easy brother,” Sam said, sliding over to rub circles on Dean’s back until he was done.

“Let’s get you inside,” Sam said, getting out and walking around to the other side to help his brother out of the car and into their room, where Dean immediately collapsed onto his bed. Sam had to admit, as much as he hated to see his brother in pain, it was kind of nice to be the one taking care of him for once instead of the other way around.

#sick dean #dean winchester #upset stomach #allergic reaction #allergies #food allergy #sam winchester #caretaker sam #sam and dean #winchesters #supernatural #spn

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barisifictionarchive · 5 years

Text

MASTER LIST - suggested by the writers

The very talented creators were asked to name the favorite fics they’ve written themselves, so here’s the compiled list with our writers’ suggestions of their best works:

before the alarm. by vadaviita

(392 | General | Complete)

Sometimes, no matter how exhausted you are, you just so happen to wake up hours before you really need to; sometimes, for a moment, you're glad.

Turn the Lights Off, I'm in Love by egirldallon

(545 | Teen | Complete)

It's just Rafael and Sonny dancing. That's it.

Here, In Your Arms by Bicarisi

(626 | General | Complete)

Sonny Carisi has never felt this happy in his life.

Penis Fish, A Tale of Lost Love by rellkelltn87

(726 | Teen | Complete)

Barba is trapped on a beach with thousands of urechis unicinctus, the species of spoon worm colloquially known as the “penis fish." (Trust me, kids, you don't want to Google that.) This is basically a Twitter gag that went too far. Also, it's formatted as a TV script.

Probably don't read this if you're squeamish about weird-looking aquatic life forms.

I will escort myself out of the fandom now.

Discouraged by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(1142 | Teen | Complete)

Carisi goes home to Barba after being blindsided in Arraignments. Again. He’s feeling discouraged and starts to question if he really is suited for being an ADA. Rafael comforts him and convinces him he’s wrong and things would get better.

all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting by wayward13

(1392 | Teen | Complete)

"You grew a beard."

Rafael laughed and looked back and forth between the two of them.

"What is with you two? Does it look bad?" he asks with a smile bringing his hand up to rub his cheek briefly.

"No! You- uh you look really good, Barba," Sonny stammered, "I mean- happy. You look really happy."

"I am."

Good Thing Go by minnesotamemelord

(1501 | General | Complete)

Rafael Barba says his goodbyes.

finally safe to fall by adabarbacarisi

(1600 | Mature | Complete)

Rafael loved fiercely and deeply, when he fell for someone he was as passionate and intense with that love as he was in his work. It seemed it was in his nature to be a little too much, a little too bold, for a lot of people. He had accepted that perhaps that world-changing, earth-shattering, heart-soaring kind of mutual love wasn’t in the cards for him.

That is, until Sonny Carisi entered his life and changed everything.

Family by Ava_now

(1656 | General | Complete)

Happy Valentine's Day! Here, I got you a baby!

Harbor in the Storm by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(1959 | Teen | Complete)

After the end of Sunk Cost Fallacy, Sonny Carisi needs help. Rafael Barba is the only one who can help him.

Only say my name, it will be held against you by Bicarisi

(2053 | Mature | Complete)

Sonny and Rafael had been friends with benefits for over a year. But what happens when it becomes something more?

Begin Again by glammetalkitten

(2389 | General | Complete)

The morning Sonny wakes up as an ADA and not an NYPD detective, he’s, you know, a little nervous. New job, life-changing kind of nervous.

Forgiven by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(2476 | Teen | Complete)

When Rafael Barba shows up out of the blue after almost three years, Sonny doesn't know what to think. He wants to be upset, but Rafael makes it almost impossible. Rafael disappeared off the face of the earth and Sonny can't let himself forgive him that easy. With as sincere as Rafael seems, Sonny can't help but think maybe he was deserving of his forgiveness.

Where's the Love Without Remorse by girldallon

(2809 | Teen | Complete)

Some secrets are purposely kept, for a reason, good reasons.

You Raise Me Up by BarbaLovesCarisi (CaptainAmericasShield)

(3041 | Teen | Complete)

The Undiscovered Country never happened. Jack McCoy hired Sonny as an ADA then promptly retired, leaving room for Rafael Barba to become the new DA. He takes care of Sonny and supports him, even when no one else does.

White in Your Hair by FreckledSkittles

(3299 | Teen | Complete)

It's been too long since Sonny has seen Rafael. Things have changed, but it feels great.

Call by Coop_Scoop

(4119 | Explicit | Complete)

Rafael finally decides that living in Florida really isn't for him, he hasn't worked since he got there. But he needs to make a few calls to try and get back to where he wants to be and maybe get the person who has haunted his mind since he left.

he doesn't look a thing like jesus by hanzios

(5029 | Teen | Complete)

The first time he summoned the archangel, Sonny was on his couch, reading a Wikipedia page about translated Hebrew transcripts from the Old Testament.

He Who Can Endure It by abogadobarba (daltonfightclub)

(5478 | Teen | Complete)

They were always so close to the precipice of something more, but ever the pragmatists, were also privy to the many ways in which a whisper of impropriety could destroy a career such as theirs, cut down a man by half and leave him aching besides—and that’s before accounting for the scandal of it all.

But before all else, Sonny was a man of His word. So, he learned to endure it.

OR: The one in which Carisi is the new ADA and in a little bit over his head (with both the law AND Barba).

High School Barisi by icedcoffeebro

(8693 | General | WIP)

Sonny is part of the tech team in theatre, and Rafa is the understudy for the main role. They bump into each other more than once.

Taken from my brain during Stop-Motion class.

TW for mentions of parental abuse.

Do You Mind? by Larkin21

(11288 | Teen | Complete)

Pre-Barisi, set in early season 17. Barba's feelings toward Carisi grow beyond a grudging respect for a coworker, as told in missing moments from episodes 2-5.

This is the first part to a multi-part prequel for my story, Mind If I Drop Over? This part is Barba's POV and it's rated teen, mostly for language. All other parts of the series are (or will likely be) rated explicit.

Carisi's Goddamn Legs by juniperhoot

(11502 | Explicit | Complete)

Rafael Barba is obsessed with Sonny Carisi's legs. And the rest of him, come to think of it.

But damn, those legs.

Moments in Time by tobeconspicuous

(11640 | Teen | Complete)

When Catalina was a child she knew that there was something special about her. Her mother said magic flowed through their veins and that some people would never understand.

Catalina was unsure what her mother meant by that until one day when she was ten years old, she found a young boy in her backyard.

The truth within words by Subaruchan192

(11944 | Teen | Complete)

'Dear Rafael, You're gone. It's strange. It’s been a week since you left and yet I can still feel you here. I can feel your eyes on me, but when I turn no one is there. I hear your voice in the hall, but when I go around the corner it's someone else. You are gone, and it is strange, and it makes me sad every time.'

One week after Rafael Barba left without a word, Sonny can't stand all those words left unspoken anymore and decides to write a letter to express them. Along the journey, he discovers that he has been in love with Rafael for a long time only to realize that he is too late.

Or is he? Let's find out.

A Nice Young Man by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)

(12767 | General | Complete)

After the events of episode 16.16 (Barba's grandmother passes) and 16.7 (Sonny's brother-in-law is assaulted by his female parole officer), Carisi reaches out to Barba because that's just his way. Barba is a bit confused about what to do about it all.

We're All Just Passing Through by nukablastr

(13790 | Teen | Complete)

After a series of disasters cause Rafael to miss the last train back to Boston, a chance encounter with a stranger may redefine what it means to go home.

Little One You Have To Take Better Care by MollyKillers

(19270 | General | Complete)

Everyone is born with a dragon inside them as a part of their soul.

Rafael believes because of the coldness in him his dragon is dead. However, when he meets Dominick (call me Sonny) Carisi something in him stirs.

Credo by snakeling

(19833 | Mature | Complete)

If a one night stand is the only way Sonny can have Rafael, he'll take it. But he wants so much more.

Catching Feelings by soul_writerr

(21034 | General | Complete)

Sonny and Rafael are such close friends that everyone around them thinks they're dating. They think that's hilarious, until Sonny starts dating someone else and Rafael realizes he made a huge mistake.

But now it's too late to fix it, so he tries to move on.

A Healing Year by adrianna_m_scovill

(24706 | Mature | Complete)

Rafael Barba learned how to protect his heart from the world, and he gave up on the hope of ever falling in love - until Sonny Carisi made him want all the things he'd accepted he would never have.

The Second Assistant by soul_writerr

(35357 | Teen | Complete)

Sonny is an idealistic, driven journalist who can't find a job. When he starts as Runway's Editor in Chief Rafael Barba's assistant, his life turns into a nightmare. Until it doesn't. And he gets better clothes out of it.

Devil Wears Prada AU.

#barisi #fic rec #themed list #master list #suggested by the creators #less than 1k #less thank 5k #less than 10k #10k to 25k #25k to 50k

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chaoticgremlinwholikescheese · 4 years

Text

Medical Files

TW: Suicide attempts (past)

Johnlock included

JOHN'S POV:

You know, I don't think I've ever seen someone attack with an ancient medieval sword. But, then again, when you work with Sherlock Holmes, you see a lot of things you never think you'll see. The guy moved fast, but Sherlock moved faster, taking him down. Well, taking him down after the culprit got a good slice in. Now, the culprit is heading to jail, the sword is heading to its rightful owner, and I'm arguing with a very stubborn Sherlock.

"Seriously, John, I'm fine." Sherlock insists, putting his hand over the cut on his shoulder. "You just got cut with a medieval sword. You have to go get that stitched up." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Can't you just stitch it up? Are you not Dr. Watson?" He sasses. I cross my arms. "That's too deep for me to stitch it, we don't have the supplies. Now get in the cab." I order.

Sherlock sighs, but follows my directions. When the cabby sees the blood leaking down Sherlock's arm, his eyes go wide. "People, so squeamish when it comes to blood." Sherlock groans, buckling his seatbelt. The cabby takes the hint and turns around, starting the drive to the hospital.

The whole way there, Sherlock complains. I'm practiced in tuning him out, but the poor cabby is not. He's forced to listen to Sherlock's ramblings and the occasional rude deduction. By the time we get to the hospital, Sherlock has deduced that the cabby lives alone, his wife cheated on him, and he owns six cats. I make sure to tip the cabby extra, to make up for the blood stains and for Sherlock's rudeness.

When we enter, Sherlock is whisked away to be fixed up. I go the front desk. Maybe I can get Sherlock to get his flu shot while we're here. I doubt he's done it already. "May I see Sherlock Holmes's medical file please?" I ask the nurse. "I'm sorry, but-" he starts. I cut him off. "I'm a doctor, doctor John Watson. I served as an army surgeon, Adjutant of 1st batallion, The West Yorkshire Regt, in Austria and the Canal Zone." The nurse blinks a few times before nodding. He prints some papers out and hands them to me.

I take a seat on a nearby chair and begin to scan them. Mostly the basics, pneumonia at ten, sprained ankle when he was thirteen... My eyes pause. I read and re-read the sentence. My heart sinks. My eyes go wide. 'Attempted suicide, age sixteen, institutionalized for six months'. Why did he never tell me this? And how could I not have known?

I'm startled from my thoughts when I hear Sherlock speak. "I'm done. They gave me stitches. The nurse was a tad hungover, and her boyfriend just broke up with her, so I'm not sure how good they are. You'll probably have to fix them." Sherlock says. I nod and stand up, folding and sticking the medical file in my pocket. We walk out together and hail a cab.

The rest of the night, I find myself watching him. Thoughts race through my head. He was suicidal. He wanted to die. He tried to die. If he had succeeded, we never would have met. I wouldn't be living here with him, I wouldn't know how he likes his tea, how to get him to fall asleep. I would never have met the love of my life.

Sherlock sits on the couch, pulling out a book. I sit down next to him. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. "You know I love you, right?" I say softly. Sherlock nods. "Is everything alright?" He asks, studying me. "Yes, everything's fine. Just... just wanted to make sure you knew." Sherlock gives me a soft smile. "You finally read my medical records, didn't you." My eyes go wide.

I'm about to start denying it, but I realize that it's no use. "Yes." I answer. "Hm. I thought you would have done it sooner." He tells me. I'm honestly surprised that he's not mad. "I assume you saw my suicide attempt." I nod. We sit in silence for a few moments. "Can I tell you something?" Sherlock says yes. I take a deep breath.

"I'm glad your attempt failed. I need you here. I need you with me. I don't know what I would do without you. If you ever feel like that again, please, for the love of God, talk to me. Tell me what's going on. I want to be there for you. I couldn't survive if you weren't here with me. I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock gives me a sad smile. He gently kisses me. "I'll never leave you. I promise." He whispers. I hold him tight, and I am so grateful that he is still alive.

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added to my Sherlock tag list :)

#sherlock #johnlock #john watson #sherlock oneshot

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Undone, Chapter 24 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 24 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters. If you’re sticking with us despite the long breaks between chapters, then you’re wonderful and I adore you. Thank you so much to our beta readers, @kitschypixel , @jimvssherlock , and @missdandee <3 <3 <3

Summary: Relationships are tricky.

TW: Discussions of emotional abuse, PTSD

***

When Courtney’s alarm begins to go off, ripping her from a deep and peaceful sleep, it feels almost violent. She jolts awake, fumbling for the phone, eyes widening when she sees the time. She’d somehow fucked up and set the alarm an hour later than she meant to.

“Shit!” She jumps from the bed, the suddenness of leaving the warm covers and cocoon of body heat like being hit with cold water. She rouses Bianca, as gently as possible given the situation.

“Nooo, it’s too early,” Bianca groans into her pillow.

“It’s 5:15,” Courtney tells her apologetically.

Bianca’s eyes fly open. “Motherfucker.”

“I know, I’m sorry. We’ll still make it if we rush. I’ll take care of the dogs!” Courtney calls back over her shoulder, taking off running towards the kitchen.

***

Courtney’s not sure how to navigate the work situation. Will Bianca want to keep everything under wraps? She’s not officially divorced yet, after all. It seems a little insane that with all their endless discussions about everything under the sun, that hasn’t come up. And the hectic rush to get to set on time this morning stopped her from asking.

So in the lunch line, when Adore asks her why she looks so happy, she keeps her mouth firmly shut.

“Come on, tell me. Did something finally happen with B? Did you guys bang?” Adore’s eyes glitter with mischief.

“We did not,” Courtney says emphatically.

“Okay well...but you banged someone, right? Did you get laid while she was out of town? Is it someone I know? I won’t tell, promise.”

Courtney rolls her eyes and shakes her head. When she sees Bianca walking over, her eyes light up, destroying her attempt to play it cool.

“Come on,” Adore says, a grin spreading across her face. “What happened?”

“Nothing!” Courtney insists, then turns to Bianca with a sheepish smile. “Hey...how’s it going?” She shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, arms wrapped around herself.

It takes Bianca a moment to catch on, looking from Courtney’s uncomfortable expression to Adore’s curious grin. It didn’t occur to her before that Courtney wouldn’t tell Adore, but she assumes that it’s because of her. In spite of everything that happened between them, Courtney’s still clearly unsure where she stands.

But Bianca has no desire for Courtney to be some dirty little secret. So she steps closer, cupping Courtney’s face with her hands.

“It’s going great. How are you?”

Bianca doesn’t notice the mouths of their coworkers dropping open in surprise. She just watches Courtney’s face, her green eyes wide.

“I’m...really good.” Courtney’s breathing is shallow, heart racing as her hands find Bianca’s waist.

“That’s good,” she murmurs, then presses a kiss to Courtney’s lips, soft and deep.

“You fuckin’ liar!” Adore says, clapping her hands gleefully.

They part, giggling a little, and Bianca knows that she’s making a spectacle, that there must be a whole bunch of eyes on them, but she can’t bring herself to feel anything but elation.

“I didn’t think you’d want people to know,” Courtney whispers, pressing her forehead to Bianca’s.

“Well, I do. I want everyone to know,” Bianca replies. Dimples are deep in her cheeks, and Courtney reaches a hand up to touch one, giddy with happiness.

Bianca kisses her again, deeper this time.

“Okay, it was cute at first but now it’s just...gross.” Adore’s nose wrinkles and she grabs a plate, finally up to the front of the buffet line. “Guys?”

Feeling a bit light-headed, Courtney nuzzles her face into Bianca’s neck, gripping her waist.

“Oh my god, stop,” Adore says. “You’re holding up the line. Look alive!”

“Alright already,” Bianca laughs, finally lifting her head and taking a plate with a happy sigh.

***

Courtney places the dogs’ bowls on the ground and then stands up, brushing her hands off, to find Bianca’s eyes on her. A faint blush rises to her cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Bianca reaches for her, taking her hand. “I’m just...glad to have you alone. Finally.”

Courtney takes a deep breath as Bianca wraps her into an embrace, gazing at her with heavy-lidded blue eyes.

“Yeah. It’s pretty fantas…” Courtney trails off as Bianca’s plush lips graze her neck. She gives herself a moment to enjoy it. Several moments, if she’s honest--long enough to feel Bianca’s soft hands sliding up under her top. Her eyes have fallen closed, stomach twisting with desire, before she catches herself and clears her throat. “Uh...B?”

“Mmmh?”

“I just want to make sure that we, uh...manage our expectations here.”

Bianca lifts her head, a puzzled look on her face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything’s fine. Everything’s great, actually, but...I have my period.”

“Okay?”

“So...I think we should maybe...hold off for now.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be squeamish about that,” Bianca teases gently.

“Well...I’m not. But...it’s a little hard core for a first time...I mean, sort of.” Courtney bites her lip, trying not to think about how this wouldn’t actually be their first time.

“Okay.” Bianca takes a deep breath. She’s ready to claw down the curtains, but she doesn’t want to make Courtney feel bad. “Yeah, if you’re not comfortable, then-”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

“No, I get it. Sorry if I seemed too-”

“It’s okay. I just...want things to be…”

“I know.”

Courtney swallows, lacing her fingers into Bianca’s.

“I care about you so much, B.”

“Me too.” Bianca places a gentle kiss on her cheek, but her mind is racing. She cares? What happened to love? Why are we backtracking? Calm down, calm down, she probably means it in a good way.

***

Later, when Bianca slides into bed, she’s still feeling a bit unsure of where they stand. Her insecurity is alleviated when Courtney snuggles into her, pulling Bianca’s arms around her from behind and sighing deeply. She seems content and happy and it has an immediate calming effect on Bianca’s nerves.

Bianca buries her face into Courtney’s hair, breathing in deeply, moving some of the wavy tresses aside to kiss her neck. Her arms tighten around Courtney’s slender body, pulling her impossibly close as her lips continue to trace patterns on her neck and shoulder.

“B-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna go near your...bathing suit area,” Bianca promises.

“My what?”

“You know, your...downstairs.”

Courtney flips around, puzzled amusement contorting her features.

“Downstairs?” she asks skeptically.

“What...what do you call it?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Pussy?” Courtney says, and Bianca grimaces. “Or cunt.”

Bianca’s brow furrows deeper, letting out a disgusted, “Ughh!”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to adopt ‘downstairs,’” Courtney laughs.

“Fine, but do we have to be so…” Bianca’s nose wrinkles.

“Do you have any other suggestions?”

After a brief pause, Bianca offers up an angelic smile, dimples deep, and then asks, “Hoo-ha?”

“Absolutely fucking not!” Courtney shrieks, still laughing.

“Sorry. I guess I was brought up to be a little…”

“Repressed?”

“I was gonna say ‘ladylike,’” Bianca corrects her.

“Oh yeah. That’s you. Delicate as fuck.” Courtney grins.

“Listen…”

“Yes?”

“...I have nothing. You win. We’ll call it whatever you want.”

Courtney giggles again, snuggling close and murmuring, “I love you…”

Bianca runs a hand through her hair, smiling to herself as she whispers back, “I love you more.”

***

“How are you feeling today?” Bob asks, as Bianca settles down onto the sofa.

“I’m feeling...great, actually.” A smile pulls at Bianca’s lips. “I’ve had a good week.”

“That’s wonderful. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Yeah, um.” Bianca pauses, letting the happiness sink in a little before she continues. She’s almost bursting at the seams, anxious to share her news, but at the same time, she feels protective about it - pure joy has been so rare for her lately. Maybe dissecting it in therapy isn’t the best idea.

“You were going home for the weekend, for a wedding. Did you enjoy that?”

“Oh! Yeah, that was great. Um, super fun, and...uh, yeah. It was really nice to see everyone. And I got to eat a lot of fried shit, which was very exciting.”

“Sounds fabulous,” Bob laughs.

“And then...when I got home…” Bianca glances out the window, that secret smile making her dimples appear. “Things finally happened with Courtney. Like...for real.” She turns back to Bob, biting her lip.

“Wow. That’s something you’ve been anticipating for a long time.”

“Tell me about it,” Bianca giggles. “It feels like we’ve been waiting forever.”

“And has it been what you expected? So far?”

“Well, it’s only been a few days, but...I feel like it’s even better than I expected. She’s just so...warm. And kind. And beautiful. I just keep looking at her wondering how I go so lucky.” Bianca’s cheeks have begun to heat up a little, embarrassed at how much she’s gushing.

Bob smiles and makes a quick note.

“Have you had any challenges?”

“Uh, no. She’s perfect.” Bianca laughs again,

“Courtney’s perfect...noted,” Bob says, eyebrow arched.

“No, I know that nobody is perfect. I mean...she’s really messy and kinda disorganized.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Well...it’s kind of cute, actually.” Bianca giggles. “But you know what, get back to me in a few weeks.”

Bob chuckles and folds her hands.

“Fair enough. Let’s put a pin in that for now. What about you? We already know that you’re not perfect.”

“Thanks, doc,” Bianca scoffs.

“I think you know what I mean. You’ve been dealing with a lot of heavy stuff and hormones on top of everything. It would be normal to be sensitive, edgy, anxious, moody. So how are you, overall?”

“I’m great. I’m...I haven’t been happy like this in...I don’t know. Maybe ever. I’m just trying to enjoy it.”

“And you should.” Bob makes another note. “Listen, I’m not trying to invent problems for you that don’t exist. I just want to make sure you’re checking in with yourself enough. Sometimes, when we’re in this kind of honeymoon stage, we can ignore our needs because they don’t feel as pressing.”

“I don’t know if ‘honeymoon’ is the right description,” Bianca says with a chuckle.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh.” Bianca shook her head. “I was kinda kidding. Just because...well, we haven’t slept together yet. I mean, we’ve slept in the same bed, but just not...”

“Got it.”

“And, you know, it’s fine, it’s just that I’ve been like...extremely hard-up, if you catch my drift. People warned me that it would happen at this point in my pregnancy, so I’m not really surprised. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that she’s smoking hot. So yeah.” Bianca sighs.

“So...a problem? Not a problem?”

“No, I’m fine with waiting. She hasn’t been ready, so…and I’m trying not to take it personally, because like, there’s a little voice in my head saying that she’s just not into me like that right now. Or maybe just like, even the idea of me being pregnant is weird for her; my body is different and that’s...I don’t know. I’m not too worried,” Bianca insists, aware that she’s begun babbling.

Reel it back in. Come on.

Bianca smiles brightly before continuing, determined not to be the douchebag whining about her girlfriend not putting out.

“I’m sure it’ll happen soon. And if not, I’ll just continue my monogamous relationship with the shower massager,” Bianca finishes with a smirk, pleased with herself for injecting some humor into the situation, especially when Bob laughs.

“You know,” Bob says, folding her hands. “...there could be a lot of reasons that she’s not ready. Have you talked to her about it?”

“No! No, I don’t want to make a big out of it. And she’s had like...reasons, so. I think it’s just that I’m fully ready to jump through fire to be with her. So anything she says feels like kind of a weak excuse. Which is my problem, not hers.”

“Maybe she doesn’t take sex lightly?”

Bianca raises her eyebrows, giving a look of such dismissive disdain to this suggestion that Bob chuckles.

“Okay, well, maybe she’s not taking sex with you lightly.”

“Right. Maybe. But...it’s not like this would be our first time. And I mean, anything would be better than that.”

“You’ve had sex with her before?” Bob looks puzzled.

“Yeah. Back when...a few months ago. We’d been drinking a lot, and things got a little...uh...complicated.”

“A few months ago, you were still with Jared, correct?”

Bianca shifts a little.

“Yeah. Uh...he was there too.”

“I see.”

“Jared always had kind of a...he knew I liked girls, and he liked...watching it. So when he saw us together, I guess he got it in his head that it would be...um, I dunno exactly what he was thinking. But he convinced her to come home with us.”

“And...what happened when she went home with you?”

“You want details? Wow, Bob, didn’t take you for the kinky type.”

Bob rolls her eyes slightly, and Bianca sighs.

“Well, the truth is, I don’t remember much. I know we were together, but it was kind of hard to focus on that, because seeing her with Jared was so-” Bianca cringes, clearing her throat.

“She was with Jared?”

“Yeah.” Bianca closes her eyes. “She didn’t really want to, but he kind of...insisted.”

“Insisted?” Bob’s head tilts, concerned. “Did Jared assault her?”

“No! No, that’s not...I mean…” Bianca’s palms start to itch, pulse quickening.

“Okay. So after this...let’s just say ‘coerced’ sex with your husband...what happened? Did you discuss it?”

Bianca shook her head, blood rushing to her ears.

“No. She tried, but I...I couldn’t...oh, shit.” A small whimper escapes her throat as she realizes the gravity of her selfishness. “God, I’m such an asshole.” A choked sob follows, the walls of the room closing in on her. Her knuckles are white, fingers gripping a throw pillow for dear life.

“Bianca...look at me. Take a deep breath, okay?”

Bianca lifts her eyes, cloudy with tears, and follows Bob’s gentle instructions until her breathing returns to normal.

Bob pulls her planner off the table and flips it open, clearing her throat.

“I think we better schedule a session with both of you. Sooner the better.”

Bianca nods, dread washing over her like a wave.

***

“Okay, I made two trays of it. Yours has real cheese, and they both have tofu for added protein...what do you think?” Courtney displays the lasagna proudly.

It looks and smells delicious, and despite Bianca’s nerves doing a number on her stomach, she realizes that she’s actually insanely hungry. She can’t believe how quickly Courtney’s mastered Italian food, simply because she said it was her favorite. She silently adds it to the endless list of reasons to love her.

“It looks fantastic. And I’m starving; I can’t wait to try it.”

Courtney smiles and begins to dish out portions.

“Oh shit, it’s really hot. Um, if you’re hungry, you can start on the salad? And there’s some leftover chicken if you want to add that. You know, protein boost.” As usual, Courtney’s biggest concern is making sure that Bianca has everything she needs at all times.

“Thanks. I’m okay, I can wait a minute.”

“I don’t want you to suffer,” Courtney says, and Bianca lets out a soft chuckle.

“Careful, your halo is showing.”

Courtney laughs and gives Bianca a wink as she carries the plates to the table.

“Well, you know me. I love to show off.”

“Yeah,” Bianca approaches her at the table, wrapping her hands around her waist. “Thank you for making dinner. It looks great.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s lips ghost against hers, breath warm and gentle.

“Mmhmm. You’re a dream.”

“Good dream or bad dream?” Courtney asks somberly, and Bianca pretends to think.

“Ummm...I guess we’ll find out, huh?”

“I thought you were hungry.” Courtney’s fingers play with her hair.

“I am, but I need to ask you...um…do you have any plans tomorrow, after work?” Bianca’s stomach twists uncomfortably.

“Plans without you?” Courtney shakes her head, amused, as if this is too ridiculous an idea to contemplate. “No, why?”

“Well...um, Bob thinks it would be good to do a session with both of us. I mean, if that’s okay with you.” Bianca waits for an answer, chest tight.

“Of course, B.” Courtney presses a kiss against her temple. “Anything you need.”

***

Courtney’s not sure what to expect. Her experience with therapy before now has been pretty minimal, and from what Bianca’s told her, it’s hard to imagine what Bob will be like. The first thing she notices (besides Bob’s height, as she towers over both of them) is her voice. It’s sharp and a bit sardonic--she’s obviously witty, which explains why Bianca likes her--but when she addresses Bianca, her tone gets almost tender, and immediately puts Courtney at ease.

She settles beside Bianca on the sofa, some of her nerves dissipating, open to whatever Bob thinks she needs to hear in order to support Bianca through this journey.

“Hi Courtney. Thanks for coming in.”

“No problem. I know that B’s been through a really rough time, so anything that I can do to help…”

Courtney rests a hand on Bianca’s thigh, and the warmth of the simple gesture immediately makes Bianca feel secure, combatting the uneasiness she’s been feeling all day.

“So, of course, last time you were here, Bianca, we discussed your evolving relationship. And how you’ve been feeling about it.”

“Yeah. It’s been great,” Bianca says, tucking a strand of hair behind Courtney’s ear.

“Totally great,” Courtney echoes, beaming back at her.

“I expressed some concerns to Bianca that when you’re in a new relationship, it’s easy to be blinded by how good it feels. And when you’re healing, it’s important to take the time to think about the full picture.”

“I totally agree!” Courtney says. “That’s why we waited so long. I wanted to make sure that B was in a better place, and that it wasn’t just like, a rebound or...an escape.”

“I told you she was smart,” Bianca says, and Courtney leans against her shoulder.

“I just want to support you,” Courtney tells her. “I want you to feel safe, and loved, and...happy.”

“I do, baby,” Bianca whispers softly, into her hair.

“And what about you, Courtney?” Bob asks.

“Sorry?”

“Do you feel safe? Loved? Appreciated?”

“Definitely!” Courtney exclaims, grinning.

“That’s good. Because you know, this has to work both ways,” Bob tells her.

Courtney’s brow furrows slightly.

“I know that. But...sorry, I just thought we were here for B.” Courtney glances at her, then back at Bob. “I mean, you’re her therapist, right? Not mine?”

“That’s true. But if we’re talking about a relationship, it’s probably better to think of me as a kind of impartial sounding board.”

“Okay…” Courtney looks at Bianca again. “Is everything okay? I mean...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Bianca insists, the unsettled feeling in her chest blossoming into fear as her heart begins to race.

“Courtney, I want to assure that there are no ulterior motives here,” Bob says. “Bianca had nothing but lovely, positive things to say about you. And from what I can tell, everything she said is true. So...no, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Courtney relaxes a little bit, leaning back against the cushions and nodding.

“That said, she did tell me something that I found troubling.” Bob looks at Bianca questioningly. “Do you want to tell Courtney why I asked you to bring her?”

Bianca swallows what feels like a mouthful of sawdust. Anxiety gnaws at her stomach. “Umm...I don’t really know where to…” She trails off, avoiding Courtney’s eyes, that look of panic that’s bound to be all over her face.

“Okay, well, we were talking about physical intimacy,” Bob says, trying to guide Bianca along.

“Yeah. Um...I guess I mentioned that we’d had that...thing. Earlier this summer.” Bianca bites her lip.

“Oh…” Courtney’s chest tightens a bit. She’s been trying her best not to think about that night. That evening on the beach, when Bianca had confessed to her - that was all she needed to hear, really. She’d been overcome with relief that there was a logical explanation for Bianca’s behavior, that Bianca really did care about her. But she’d also been so concerned with Bianca’s well-being that any unresolved feelings of her own seemed unimportant. She’s thought about bringing it up again at some point, but it hasn’t ever felt like the right time.

“Courtney, I don’t want Bianca’s description to influence you too much here. But she did mention that you hadn’t really discussed it much. So I’m interested in hearing your perspective about that night.” Bob’s tone is light, but there’s a weight behind it that makes Courtney even more nervous.

“What exactly do you want to know?” Courtney looks skeptical, withdrawing into herself. Rehashing that night is the last thing she wants to do right now.

“Not about physical details. But just, emotionally. What was that like for you?” Bob clarifies.

“You mean, at the time? Or later?”

“Why don’t we start with how it felt in the moment?”

Courtney glances at Bianca, biting her lip.

“Are you sure you want us to talk about this? I thought we’d moved past it.”

“Yeah, I think...there might be some things that we didn’t really…” Bianca’s breath hitches. “You should answer.”

Courtney turns back to Bob, taking a deep breath.

“Okay, well...it was...great, mostly. I mean, the truth is that even though I didn’t like to admit it, I’ve wanted her since the moment we met.”

In spite of her anxiety, Bianca feels a small smile pulling at her mouth. Courtney’s never said that out loud, and hearing it makes her melt a little. But she knows that there’s bound to be more coming, more that she’s probably not going to want to hear. She takes a deep breath and listens to Courtney continue.

“And so...yeah, being with her, that way, was...it was a million fantasies coming true.” Courtney looks down at her hands. “But...I guess it was also a little bit sad, because I thought maybe it would be our only chance. Because, you know, I didn’t really know much about her relationship with Jared. So I just assumed...that would be it.”

“What was your impression of Jared?” Bob asks her.

“Uh. I didn’t love him? But, I was also so jealous that I couldn’t really be trusted to make a fair judgment,” she admits.

“So, it’s safe to say that you weren’t attracted to him?”

“What?! No, of course not,” Courtney exclaims. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Bob looks at Bianca, who speaks up in a small voice.

“I told her that you didn’t want to do it, but he kind of...made you,” Bianca’s breath hitches.

“Is that a fair description, Courtney?” Bob asks. “Did you feel coerced in any way?”

Courtney whirls back towards her, blood racing.

“What exactly are you implying?!”

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be vague. It sounds like a sexual assault to me. Is that how it felt?”

“No! No, it didn’t.”

Bob makes a note, nodding, and Courtney’s heart races in her chest. What kind of shit is she trying to pull? Courtney feels desperate to defend herself.

“Was it my ideal scenario? No. But I weighed the pros and cons and I made a choice,” Courtney insists. “I’m not a victim here.”

“Why don’t you tell Courtney what we say about the word ‘victim’?” Bob says to Bianca.

“We say ‘survivor,’” Bianca answers, voice breaking, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Courtney looks at her. She seems like she’s in physical pain, knuckles white from gripping the pillow in her lap, brow furrowed and eyes dark and liquid. Seeing her face, Courtney is suddenly overcome with guilt.

“This isn’t what I agreed to,” Courtney says, shaking her head. She looks at Bob accusingly, anger rising to the surface. “I’m not here to make her feel bad; that’s not why I came.”

She moves closer to Bianca on the couch and puts a hand on her shoulder, trying her best to soothe her, ease her mind, as Bianca mumbles another tearful apology.

“I’m fine, B. You don’t need to apologize. Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Bianca allows Courtney to take her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly. Bob watches, giving them a few moments to collect themselves before speaking again, in a gentle but decisive voice.

“Courtney, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want to give you space for honest communication, alright?”

Courtney’s head snaps up. “Honest communication? That’s what you call this? This was an ambush!”

Bob closes her eyes and sighs.

“You know what, you’re right. I clearly didn’t approach this subject in the right way. I’m very sorry that you feel ambushed. That wasn’t the intention.”

Courtney folds her arms.

“Maybe I jumped to the wrong conclusions,” Bob continues. “Can you accept my apology?”

Courtney sighs, nodding.

“Do you want to clarify? Maybe, correct my assumptions?”

Courtney chews on her bottom lip, unsure exactly how to proceed, how much to admit to, then finally says, “I guess...I get why you thought...what you did. He was very determined. But I just...I don’t know how belaboring that will help Bianca. And that’s why we’re here, right?” Courtney takes Bianca’s hand again.

Bob pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before speaking again.

“Let me describe what I’m seeing here. And again, this is just my impression. But what I see is someone who cares so much about her partner’s comfort that she’s pushing her own feelings aside. I see a lot of love, and a lot of compassion, and the potential for a beautiful relationship. But...you’re not going to get there without honesty. This man hurt both of you.” Courtney opens her mouth to protest, and Bob immediately relents, clarifying, “Not in the same way, and not to the same degree. But you’ve both been manipulated, and you’ve both been hurt. She needs to hear what it was like for you. I promise you, this is as much for Bianca as it is for you.”

“Well, it was…” Courtney sniffles. “I honestly don’t remember that part, I wasn’t really...there. I was just thinking that if I can just get through it, it would be okay. And it might be my only chance to be with her, so-”

“Talk to her…”

“-so even if it was just that one night, it would be...it would be worth it.” Courtney clings to Bianca’s hand.

“Was it worth it?” Bob asks.

“I...I can’t answer that.”

“Did it turn out how you expected?”

“At the time? No. In the morning, when she was-” Courtney pauses and turns to Bianca, “When you were gone, I still thought that maybe it would be okay. A lot happened, maybe you were just like...processing. It didn’t mean that you didn’t care. But then…”

Tears stream down Bianca’s cheeks. She knows what’s coming. This is the part she’s been dreading all day.

“I’m sorry, B.”

“It’s okay. Tell her,” Bob says softly.

“When you said that I...when you pushed me away, I...I just couldn’t understand. It was like, everything had been a lie, and it made me question whether I was even living in reality.”

“Sound familiar?” Bob asks Bianca.

Bianca nods, crying too much to answer. She starts to choke out another apology.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I mean, I know now.” Courtney gently dabs at Bianca’s cheeks with a tissue, her own vision blurry with tears. “I love you, B. I love you so much.”

“Then why don’t you want me?” Bianca blurts out, and Courtney looks at her with alarm.

“Don’t want you?! What-” Courtney stops, shaking her head in disbelief. “Of course I want you. I always have.”

“It just feels like something’s changed. Like...and maybe it’s me. Maybe you just aren’t attracted to me like this.” Bianca gestures down at her body, and Courtney’s head shakes even more vigorously.

“B, I’ve told you, you look beautiful. And to be honest, pretty much exactly the same. Okay? Please, I don’t know why you think I’m…” Courtney rubs her eyes. “I want you, okay? I just…I guess, part of me still worries that if we sleep together, it’ll all go to shit again. I’m not good at this; I don’t usually do relationships. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me, why would you think that?”

“I…” Courtney falters. “I don’t know.”

“May I offer a possible perspective here?” Bob asks. Courtney gestures for her to proceed. “So, the last time you were together, physically, what followed was silence, gaslighting and ultimately...rejection.”

“I don’t know...yeah. I guess.” Courtney lowers her eyes.

“So it’s not exactly a mystery why you’re feeling anxious about doing it again. Is it?”

“No,” Courtney sighs. “But it might be a little irrational.”

“Well, you know, we’re not always perfectly rational. And that’s okay. Look, I don’t think you should force anything. Or do anything before you’re ready. There are a lot of kinds of intimacy,” Bob says. “So, my advice would be to focus on that, and take sex out of the equation entirely.”

“Ugh,” Bianca groans slightly, and Courtney laughs, squeezing her hand.

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” Bob says, chuckling along. “I don’t mean forever. Just for now. Take the pressure off. Think of it as laying down a foundation...for your, uh...future house...I didn’t think this metaphor through.”

“I think we get it, doc.”

“Right. Well...we still have ten minutes left. Any other problems for me to solve?” Bob jokes, offering a bright smile.

***

Courtney collapses onto the couch, exhausted, nerves frayed.

“Oh my god, how do you do that every week?”

Bianca chuckles softly, sitting down beside her.

“This week it was twice.”

“Jesus.” Courtney pulls her in closer, eyes falling closed. “I know you’re probably hungry, but like...I can’t even think about cooking right now.”

“PostMates?” Bianca suggests, yawning.

“Fabulous.”

Bianca starts to sit up, but Courtney hugs her tight, cuddling closer.

“In a minute…” Courtney says.

“Okay.” Bianca nuzzles into her neck. She feels warm and safe, but guilty. There’s a lump rising in her throat. “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what, baby?” Courtney smoothes down her hair.

“I should never have let him touch you.”

“It’s not your fault, B.”

“And I should have told you...how I really felt about you. I should have told you so much sooner,” Bianca whispers.

“And how’s that?” Courtney asks, lips grazing Bianca’s forehead.

Bianca lifts up her head and looks her square in the eye, brow furrowed.

“...shut up,” she finally says, and Courtney bursts out laughing, snuggling close.

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #bitney #adore delano #bob the drag queen #lesbian au #fluff #angst #undone #stephanie #veronica #tw discussion of emotional abuse #concrit welcome

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