#when sad instead of bottling it until she wanted to die and yelling at others. she started some self work for her own mental health.
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Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgry (part 2)
Tw:swearing, mentions of surgry, softness.
Karl
This sweet ass man.
You are just laying on your bed, well sitting really, when he came in.
He had a fuck ton of balloons. And a large box.
Karl seemed like a child on christmas.
Placing the balloons down he handed you the surprisingly light box.
He was gently bouncing as he waited for you to open it.
It shocked you how it even fit in the box.
It was a huge frog bed.
You realized with a pillow you would be able to sleep in it perfectly.
"I knew it was uncomfortable sleeping like that so I got something that should make it a bit more comfortable."-karl
You loved it.
Sadly you couldnt use it till those drains were out though.
He was right though that was definitely more comfortable then laying on a bed only.
He didnt think it through though. And got sad when he wasn't able to fully cuddle you.
But he found out that he could lay on your lap and legs.
You both enjoyed it.
Also he might be a bit squeamish when it came to your chest drains but he was helpful with them.
He helped you clean them and your wounds, he was very, very gentle.
He didnt want to hurt you.
"You know it's ok to do it a little harder. It wont hurt."-(y/n)
"But I dont want to hurt you. I know this doesn't hurt."-karl.
It was sweet. But got kinda annoying sometimes when he couldnt get something off. But he never got angry or frustrated. Just kept very gentle.
I imagine that when he was cleaning your new scars, Jimmy came to see if you got his balloons and if you doing good.
You two were in the living room bowl of warm soapy water, in a large plastic bowl, and karl gently wiping off all of the crust around the scars.
You fell asleep before karl finished and karl was finishing up when jimmy came in.
"Karl. They're alseep."-jimmy
"Yeah but this needs to be cleaned. It doesn't hurt them."-karl
Jimmy and karl literally just sat there till you woke up.
You thanked jimmy for the balloons and thanked karl for helping you clean those wounds.
Karl didnt mind though. Cause this sweet heart cares for you and just wants you to feel better and feel comfortable.
Quackity
He loves you and all but dont expect him to help with the surgical sight.
He'll do everything for you except clean your wounds and drain those drains.
He loves to hug you and kept you warm.
He would stream but you were always behing the green screen so no one would see you.
"Alex. Can you get me to book I left in the living room. I feel like shit still."-(y/n)
He was very quick to get it. And I mean he bolted out got it and brought it in the span of a minute. He gave you a light kiss on the forehead, and whispered.
"Anything for you mi amoir."-quackity.
You gave him a smile.
"Simp."-(y/n)
He gasped offended and looked at you.
"Well only for you though."-quackity.
I imagine as a get well gift quackity would get you something to remind you of him when he streams.
Large duck push.
He knew that his streams could last a long time so he decided it was best if you had a snuggle buddy to help you stay in position.
If the duck got dirty he was cleaned nearly immediately by quackity.
If the duck falls off the bed quackity gently yeets it onto the bed where you can reach.
He might of gotten jealous of the duck a few times. But he seemed to get over it when you went to hugging him instead. Sadly it wasnt that easy to but still none the less you gave him hugs too.
Dont neglect you quack boi.
He needs hugs like you do.
Give them to him. These are the only times you get cuddles. Other then that he is making food, getting you comfy, and fixing your pillows and shit like that.
He is now a maid.
Not sexually though. He just cleans the house, get you things you need, and makes food.
He is helpful.
Just not with the cleaning process of your wounds. And that's fine. He keeps you comfy and that's all that matters.
Also if your cold in the middle of hot ass summer and asking for more blankets he would look at you crazy. Like what the fuck?
But you have them lightly fluttered over you.
He wants you comfy. Even if that means you looking like your boiling alive in the middle of july.
If your happy he's happy. That's how it goes
Badboyhalo
Badboyhalo?
More like dadboyhalo.
He is not going to let you do anything.
Your surgical incisions? He's cleaning them.
Your drains? He's got you.
Your getting alot of soup and smoothies. He even joins in on your so called diet so you wont get jealous about what he has.
Rat is all over you. Sensing the pain you were having and cuddling you completely. Your laps is almost always taken by rat.
Badboyhalo doesn't really care if rat gets alot of attention by you. He just wants you to be comfortable.
But sometimes he gets sad that he cant fully lay with you.
But he enjoys just sitting with you and talking through the nights you cant really sleep.
He gets you a stuffed cat, you use it mainly as a pillow and sometimes hug it when bad is streaming.
"It reminded me of you when I saw it."-bad
Your heart melted.
He loved your reactions to the little sweet gesters he did. It brought him joy to know you were able to relax and trust him at this moment and time.
You get a free swearing pass. He knows you hurt really bad at times but he lightly says language when on stream.
You understood though. He had kids watching too.
You were grumpy one day, bad took rat because of a rat cam stream. And all you wanted was to be warmed up by something else then a blanket.
You were sittinging there looking at bad as he streamed.
You could technically get up and grab rat but he my tell you not to.
So you quietly patted your lap.
Rat immediately seemed to notice and run over to you, jumping onto the bed and laying in your lap.
You felt accomplished and tired so you fell asleep.
Rat leaving made the chat confused but bad explained that you were healing from a surgery.
Chat wished you a good recovery and told bad to go and comfort you. Even though you were asleep.
He tried to explain it but the donations kept yelling at him.
So he ended stream and laid next to you and rat.
This was comfortable.
Eret
Eret, they were a whole 'nother story.
This fabulous being is like a maid service in one.
They have two outfits they wore when you were upset.
A maid outfit and a butler outfit.
You just got home, you were in pain, sitting up and swaddled in blankets and Goose was trying to smother you at this point.
Eret was streaming and you were sitting there in the background, blankets, pain, and goose exsiting.
You didnt know eret was talking about you because you were falling asleep. Eret nor you expected what their followers did.
Her door was bombarded with packages addressed to you. Decorated with words about getting well soon, that they were proud of you, even some saying you were their rolemodle.
Eret decided to have a stream of you opening them.
Let's just say alot of them were food, candies, even foreign food and drinks. Someone made you a homemade blanket in the trans colors.
Best part about that blanket, it was heated.
You were using it immediately as you were freezing.
Eret just chuckled and rubbed your shoulder as you opened them.
Needless to say they are proud of you, happy that you were one huge step closer to who you were.
All they wanted was your happiness.
Niki
She's a sweetheart.
Need I say more?
Well I will because fuck you I can.
Constant cuddles, be it only her head in your lap, it is almost always happening.
When you have to take your pain meds she is instantly on it, do you want soup or a smoothie? You cant decide? She'll make it a surprise.
If you dont live with her then you're staying with her while you are recovering. She doesn't want you alone when you are in pain.
You'll be bedridden until she thinks you're okay.
If she deems you as not fit for doing something she's on it. Drop you glasses for reading/drawing/writing/typing. You bet your ass as soon as she heard that clack and you groan she's picked it up and it's on your lap.
Also makes sure you're good with streaming.
If you say your good with it that day it's a calm stream. There is no lore happening when you're healing everyone was fine with that due to the fact that niki would have to sit out and the lore was with her as well so that couldn't happen.
Will came to visit...
Saw you, took pity, and now you're stuck with two people showering you in affection and comfort.
You saw Wilbur as a brother. And wilbur saw you as his younger brother. So he literally felt the pain when he saw you wince.
Niki thought it was cute and comforted both of you.
Anyways she saw something before your surgery and decided that you needed it.
It would make you feel better.
It made you laugh.
You regretted laughing but loved the hoodie.
It fit so well and it was beautiful, you also were thinking about buying it one day because you could.
But niki beat you to it.
Wilbur didnt stop laughing.
I mean who blames him.
You literally just Yeeted your tits. And niki got you something that said yeet right on top of it.
It worked perfectly.
Also when niki's not cuddling you zuko is.
End of story, you're seriously stuck with cuddles no matter what. Be it from an animal or a human.
Wilbur wont cuddle you more of give you head pats.
Niki normally streamed with you there with her unless lore stream.
So when the second day after your surgery, she had streamed, and you weren't there her chat started asking questions. Wondering if you were good, if something happened.
That's when you raised from your dead sleep, zuko falling off your stomach, shirtless, just to go grab some sock as your toes felt like they would fall off.
Chat seemed relived but started questioning the binder and all that.
Niki explained that you got top surgery and that you were healing still.
"He's looking like he wants to die right now. Are you sure he's fully okay?"-dono
"Yeah I'm good. Just stubbed my toe as well."-you.
Niki was quick to rush over and help you back to the bed.
"Just sit down I'll get you your water hun."-niki
She was quick to fill your bottle up and place it next to you on the table next ot the bed.
She's such a big help not matter what honestly.
She loves you and will do anything for you.
I am sorry this took so long. Just had a very unstable mental state. Also sorry if they seem oc. I'm once more not on a good mental state and have been trying to work on this.
So yeah if I dont post in a bit I'm so sorry just stressing alot. Insomnia is kicking me so hard.
My grandma broke her foot, she's all good though.
And I have taken up most things in my house as I live with both my mother and grandmother still.
But yeah I apologize for the break just gonna try to let myself get better. It might take a bit. It might be quite short I dont know. I just need to get more sleep.
Eli is very tired now. Bye.
#karl x reader#niki x reader#eret x reader#quackity x reader#badboyhalo x reader#mcyt x reader#mcyt fluff
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Underworld Dreams
i feel the need to clarify that this isn’t fiction writing, that these are about real dreams and real events that happened to me, and i was just thinking of them and thought - i should write these down
i don’t remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t tend to put much stock in the meanings of dreams, generally
but sometimes i have dreams that are stickysharp, that are very vivid, and that feel very real to me for the first few seconds after i wake up, and then i’m always filled with an embarrassing amount of relief that no matter what’s going on in my life currently, those problems aren’t my problems
my friends call them my underworld dreams
~
the first one i had was one i was very young, less than six years old, and i don’t remember much from my actual life from that age with clarity that i remember this dream. i was alone on the street, searching for someone, but everything was empty. i wasn’t scared. then i come across two dogs, fancy poodles, but they’re not right. they see me and immediately begin arguing. “what’s she doing here? she’s not supposed to be here.” “get rid of her” “she’s here now, she might as well stay” “she’s not supposed to be here!” and i try and interrupt, but then they’re looking at me, looming, so much bigger than me when they hadn’t been before, until they’re all teeth, and i’m running. all i hear is barking, and i’m not nor have i ever been afraid of dogs, but i run and my chest hurts but no matter where i look i’m alone. the dogs aren’t there, aren’t chasing me, but i don’t know where to go. i look around and i realize that everything’s in black and white. that the only things that hadn’t been a shade of grey had been the those two dogs. life isn’t shades of grey, i remember suddenly, and i bend over to pick up one of the grey bricks lining the sidewalk. i hold it in both hands and break it in half and liquid cement pools from the broken brick onto the ground. “oh,” i say, with relief, “it’s not real. this is a dream. i can leave now.”
then i wake up.
~
my mother dies a week before my tenth birthday and i have a dream that i do not forget. i am in the front yard, looking down at the highway from the large sloping hill of our home, leaning against a birch tree.
there’s a car slowly rolling down our long driveway. once, when i was younger, i was left to play in the front seat of the car as it was parked on top of the long driveway. it was an old car. i moved something i shouldn’t have and the car started rolling and i screamed and screamed, knowing something bad had happened but not how to stop it, and then my mother’s boyfriend, who i hated, ran and jumped into the rolling car and slammed on the breaks.
i am not in this car. it is getting faster, no one to slam on the breaks, and then my mother is standing next to me. “i’m in there,” she says. “you could save me.”
i understand that this isn’t real. that my mother is dead and so she can’t be standing next to me. everything else seems so real and normal, but my mother is here like she hasn’t been for weeks, and that means this is a dream. i look at the car rolling down the hill and remember her casket getting lowered into the ground and i say, “no. you’re already dead. you have to stay dead, that’s how this works.”
she’s disappointed, but not angry, she stands next to me, silent, as we watch the car roll into the highway, watch it crumple, watch it roll into a ditch. when i turn to look at her, she’s gone.
then i wake up.
i’m not relieved. i feel guilty for not saving her, even in a dream, even when she was already dead.
i do not dream of my mother again.
~
my grandmother raised me after my mother died. my grandmother dies when i’m twelve and i do not dream of her when it happens.
i will, years later, but not then.
~
i’m in high school and i have another dream. i am in something between victorian england and modern day. everything is gray. i live in a small apartment.
children keep appearing at my door. i let them in, i feed them, i cloth them. i go to food banks and schools, searching for who these children belong to, but no one claims them, so i keep them. it’s so hard to keep them, but i can’t leave them.
some of the children get sick. i do my best, but some of them die.
i put the bodies in the closet and lock the door. i tell the other, living children not to go near the closet.
i go searching. dead children don’t belong in closets. i go to the hospital, but they say they will not take random dead children. i go to the police and they laugh at me, saying no one will take them, that i’ll have to get rid of them on my own.
i am angry and desperate but there is a part of me that is not surprised.
i go home. i will have to keep the dead children in the closet. the living children ask questions, reach for the closet, and i stand in front of it, standing between my dead children in the closet and the living children in front of me, knowing that they can’t open it, that i have to keep it closed, because if i open it then my living children will walk into the closet with my dead children and they will not come out.
then i wake up.
i do not have any dead children in my closet. the relief is sharp, but not sweet.
~
i have a loft bed in college because the tiny room i’m sharing in this small apartment is not big enough for us to fit two bed side by side.
i dream that i wake up in this bed, in a place that’s not my own. there are children there, that i know but do not recognize. they cry out when they see me and yell for me to climb down. i do and they grasp my hands, pulling me outside.
my grandmother is there. other people that i do not recognize but that i know are there. the children are my cousins. these people are my family. we are outside and it is beautiful and bright. the grass is green and soft.
i sit and talk with my grandmother as the children play. the children run off somewhere else.
“i’m so glad you’re staying,” someone who i thinks might be an aunt says, patting my hand.
the first curl of unease is easy to mistake for confusion. “no, i can’t stay, i’m just visiting.”
“visiting?” she says, pitying. “there’s no visiting. the dead have to stay dead. you know that.”
i am cold. the grass is still soft. it’s still beautiful. i do not want to stay.
my grandmother is sad, not pitying, when she says, “it’s too late. they’re burning the bed.”
i am running. i do not stop to say goodbye.
the house is burning. the children are tugging at the long legs of my loft bed, trying to to pull it to the ground, and all around me are flames. i run through them, ignoring the cries of my cousins as i climb into the loft bed, laying down and burying my face into my pillow that smells of smoke and heat just as the legs crash and i’m tumbling to the ground.
then i wake up.
my pillow does not smell of smoke.
~
it’s finals week and i dream that i’m in a cave. there are bars on the entrance, even though it just leads to even more cave, and guards and a warm yellow light coming from somewhere.
i am with people i do not know. they are not concerned about leaving. i am. i get the gate open, the guards aren’t around. “come on,” i say to everyone. “let’s go. we have to go.”
“it’s just a waste of time,” one of them tells me. “we can’t leave. where would we go?”
i don’t understand.
someone else puts a water bottle and a several packets of saltine crackers into my hands. “you’ll need this,” he says, not unkindly. “don’t lose them. it’s important.”
i can’t force anyone to come with me. the guards will be back soon. they should be here now. leaving seems too easy, suddenly, but it’s not like i’m going to stay, so i go.
the caves are confusing. it takes a long time to find my way out, and i drink most of the water and eat the saltine crackers. when i step out of the labyrinth of caves it’s too bright, brighter than it’s ever been.
i walk for a long time. i come across a field that is a mix of golden corn and golden wheat growing side by side in a confusing, impractical mixture.
i see a man, dark skin and greying beard, in grey overalls and a grimy henley that maybe didn’t used to be grey but is now. he has a scythe in his hands, leaning back and swinging it through the mix of corn and wheat.
the wheat falls to the side and the scythe passes through the corn, leaving it unharmed.
“can you help me?” i ask. “i need to go home.”
the man startles, looking at me. “you shouldn’t be here.”
“i know,” i say, “can you help me? i can’t figure out how to get home.”
he stares at me for a long moment, then nods, digging a small hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “here. you kept them, didn’t you?”
he doesn’t specify, but i know what he means. i take out the mostly empty water bottle and the torn plastic packets of the saltine crackers. i shouldn’t have eaten them. but it was the only way to get out the cave.
the man sighs, as if i’m tiresome, and takes them from my hands. he empties the saltine crumbs into the dirt, then pours the last of the water on top. he directs me to stand on top of the hole, and i do, and he kicks the dirt in around my feet. “they didn’t have to help you. you’re lucky they gave those to you.”
i am. i would not have gotten out of the cave without them. i would not be going home without them.
the man takes a step backwards, leans back, and swings the scythe through me.
then i wake up.
my bed is soft and warm. i wonder if i was the corn or the wheat.
~
my cousin has been two years younger then me our whole lives and she is two years younger than me when she dies. it is strange to think that for the rest of my life my cousin will not age and i will. i live on the other side of the country to her. the last time i was home, i had a bus to catch and she was busy talking to her boyfriend, so instead of waiting to hug her goodbye, i left and said, “i’ll hug you extra hard next time,” and the pain is too familiar to be sharp.
i dream we are in a beach house like we visited once as children, but we are adults. i am delighted to be here, with my family, warm and content and safe. my cousin is there and we’re floating in the pool and i look at her and my easy contentment falters. something is wrong. i put my arms under her shoulders and knees, like i’m supporting a child who’s just learning how to float, and she looks very still and peaceful until she cracks open an eye to grin at me. “oh no,” i say say, looking at her, remembering, “you’re dead.” disappointment flashes over her face. i wasn’t supposed to say anything. i wasn’t supposed to remember.
then i wake up.
i dream we at a garden we’ve never been to. it is bright and easy and the moment i see her, i know that she is dead, but she does not. i don’t tell her, i let her drag me to look at roses bloom, and try to feel for coldness in her skin, but it’s warm. i make myself smile and she doesn’t make me let go of her hand and it’s so very warm here. for the first time i want to stay, but it’s not even a choice. she looks down at our clasped hands and when she looks up, her lips are tinged blue. “oh no,” she says, and i’m reaching for her, to pull her in to hug her extra hard, but i’m not quick enough, “i’m dead.”
then i wake up.
can you forget you’re dead? i wonder. can you forget you’re alive?
~
the last stickysharp dream i had was over a year ago, and it was this:
i am at the beach with all my friends. i love them so much. it’s hot and and the sand burns my feet so we are sitting on the shoreline, damp and hot and laughing.
there is a bright flash of light. it’s a bomb going off. i don’t know how i know, but i do, and i run.
you can’t outrun a bomb, but i try, my first instinct to flee and the hot sand is burning my feet. it takes me too long to realize that no one else is running, that they’re all standing perfectly still, watching their death coming for them.
my friends are still at the shoreline. the first shockwave is coming. i don’t have enough time to run back to them, even though i want to.
i die alone
then i wake up.
~
i do not remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t put much meaning into dreams, generally
generally
#this is your grandma talking#yes these are real dreams yes they happened exactly as describes#even my subconcious is dramatic
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Can I request a Dean fanfic? Where he and the reader broke up and the reader finds out he’s pregnant with Deans baby (yes mpreg) and a few months later Dean finds out and tries to get back together with him. The reader didn’t want to be around Dean and advoided him as much as possible but Dean is determined to prove that he is fully committed to him and their baby and won’t stop until the reader and his child are his
after weeks, i wrote it! (sorry, for the 3th time)
sorry for the implicit Cas x reader, i wrote it and just noticed it later.
anyway hope u like it!
Pairing: Dean x reader
Gender: Male
Warnings: Yandere behavior, MPreg
Summary: Dean discovered that he have a son and he will do whatever it takes to get his child and you
I dont own the character or the gif
You were walking towards the motel room door. The rain mixed with your tears as it soaked you and your backpack.
Frustration, sadness, and anger formed in your heart as you remembered what had happened a few hours ago.
How Dean had broken your heart and ruined your relationship as if your relationship was nothing to him at all.
Upon entering the motel room, you sat in front of the door, your hands on your face as you cried and thought about what you were going to do now.
What you were going to do without Dean, without your home, and without your friends.
You didn't feel that your future would be a promising one.
-
Weeks had gone by since you had left.
Right now, your life mainly consisted of going out to buy something to eat, head back to your motel room and watch some cliche movie.
Until one day, you woke up feeling sick to your stomach.
'It must be the crap I ate for lunch or my body just decided to punish me for just crying.' You thought, as you vomited in the bathroom toilet.
Unfortunately, this was a repeated cycle for you every day. Waking up in the morning and throwing up in the toilet.
You even thought about eating healthier food, but it didn't help the vomiting problem.
That's when you decided to call Castiel.
You knew that you shouldn't be calling him since you were probably just sick which is something that everything human goes through, but you couldn't take it any longer.
When you heard the sound of wings fluttering, you felt the angel wrap his arms around your body.
"Y/N, have you been staying here all this time? You were gone for weeks and I was worried sick about you! Every time I asked Dean where you were, he ignored me and left the room." The angel said, tightening his arms around you. He pulled back from the hug to look you in the eyes, "Why did you disappear like that?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.
You looked down at the floor and let out a sigh, "It's complicated, Cas but I need your help."
"With what?"
Lately, I've been feeling sick. Every day I wake up and I've tried everything to stop the sickness, but it won't go away. So, could you maybe, cure me?"
Castiel nodded, and put two fingers against your forehead.
"What the-" Castiel muttered after removing his fingers from your forehead. You were confused by the angel's reaction. He lifted your shirt up slightly and put his hand on your belly, rubbing his hand over it.
"What are you doing, Cas?" You asked, feeling the angel's warm hand against your stomach.
"This makes no sense," He spoke in confusion as he removed his hand "This shouldn't even have been possible."
You were starting to get a little scared, "Cas, what's going on?"
"Y/N... there's a baby inside you."
You let out a laugh and punched his arm lightly, "Oh my God, Cas. You actually scared me for a second. Who taught you how to make jokes?"
This is too funny. A baby inside you? A guy? Yeah, right.
"I'm not joking around, Y/N. There's a fetus inside you."
"But, that's impossible, Cas. I don't have a uterus." You pointed out.
"There is a baby inside your stomach. I felt a baby's presence when I was healing you." Castiel sat on the bed and mumbled words under his breath before disappearing and reappearing a few seconds later with a red-haired woman you recognized all too well.
Rowena.
"What's going on here? And why did you bring me to this hotel room, angel?" The witch asked.
"We need your help." The angel said.
"Cas, what are you doing?" You asked him.
"Rowena, Y/N is pregnant and we don't know how it happened. Would you be able to find out?" The angel questioned.
"You could have just asked me for help instead of kidnapped me, angel." Rowena said, approaching you, "But, let's see what happened, shall we?"
Rowena started to speak words in a language you didn't understand while touching your stomach, "Ah, did you face a witch recently?"
"Yes, about three weeks ago."
"Did she have a red book with a fish and goat drawn on it?"
"Yes." You answered.
"I already know what happened!" The witch exclaimed, "That book is from an ancient coven that was very pure and strong, but extremely sexist. They did not accept women there." She sat down by your side, "To continue the purity of the coven they created spells to allow male pregnancy, thus maintaining the male-only lineage." She explained.
"Okay, the story is cool and all, but what would that bitch gain from making me pregnant?"
"Spells can be completely different and just have the intonation of a different letter, dear. Maybe she tried some other spell but ended up doing this one in particular accidentally."
"And how can we get rid of it?" The angel butted in, wanting to help.
"You can't. Trying to end the pregnancy would cause Y/N to immediately die."
"Great. Just fucking great. I'm alone, emotionally unstable and pregnant. Oh, this is just fucking great!" You said sarcastically, throwing yourself on the bed.
"I imagine that you would want to tell Dean the good news."
"What does Dean have to do with this? And besides, we're not together anymore." You replied, sitting up and looking up at Rowena.
"Ah, pity my dear. The spell allows you to become pregnant, but It still needs insemination, meaning the child is Dean's."
"Just great."
"Y/N," Castiel approached you, "I know you are scared and worried, but I will be by your side and will always accompany you at all times. If you want my help, of course." The angel offered, a hopeful look on his face.
You looked at the angel and the hopeful look on his face made you feel like everything was going to be okay.
"Thanks Cas. I really appreciate it."
---
During the following months of your pregnancy, Castiel remained by your side. Taking care of you and bringing what you needed.
Even bought books on pregnancy and learning how to take care of the child.
Rowena came by every month to check on you and the baby. You weren't close, but she knew what a pregnancy was like and wanted to help you, and she also wanted to know how the pregnancy spell worked, but you ignored the fact that you were her little lab rat.
When the time came, Rowena prepared the spell to take the child out of you. Fortunately everything was painless and soon the baby was sleeping in your arms.
"I'm glad everything went well," Castiel said, sitting next to you, "Have you decided on what to name him?"
You looked at Cas in confusion before it dawned on you. You had completely forgotten to think of a name for the child.
"He's a little angel." You commented, "Nothing is more fair than receiving the name of one, too. Castiel, meet Castiel Junior." You smiled at him
"M-My name? Why?" Castiel asked, fumbling over his words slightly in surprise.
"You helped me with everything, Cas. If it weren't for you nothing would have worked out the way it did, so I wanted to name him in honor of you. The super protective angel."
"Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm very honored, and I promise to always look after you both." Castiel kissed your forehead before getting up and fetching a bottle for little Castiel.
---
Five years have passed since the birth of Castiel, or Castie which is what you called him. You moved to a small town and started a new life with your child, away from hunting and monsters.
Castiel still visits you both regularly at least four times a week, honoring his promise to take care of you both and honestly, you're happy that he did. Looking after a child alone is really difficult.
It's been years since you had contact or heard from the Winchesters. Castiel just gives you news about Sam who you miss a lot.
Everything was peaceful and you were finally happy. True happiness.
---
"Are you sure this is going to be a case, Dean?" The angel questioned, "This city doesn't seem to be dangerous. Maybe we should go back."
"What's your problem with coming here, Cas?" The younger brother asked, "Ever since we told you the case was in this town you have been complaining."
"It's nothing, I just don't think there's a case he-" Castiel couldn't even finish speaking because something or someone hugged him.
"Papa Castiel!" The child said, "I missed you! Daddy won't let me eat chocolate anymore!"
Cas turned and saw Castie there. He smiled and picked up the child.
"Hello little me. I missed you too. Where's your daddy?" He asked as the child hugged him, and the brothers looked confused.
"Castiel, what the fu-" Before Dean could finish his sentence, Sam put his hand over his mouth and looked at him with a disapproving look.
"Castie! Where did you go?" The three heard a voice that sounded familiar.
"Daddy I'm here. Papa is here too!" The child yelled back, letting his dad know where he was.
You recognized Castiel's coat and soon calmed down before you saw that Dean and Sam were there, too. A lump formed in your throat as you approached them.
"Hello Y/N." Castiel and Sam greeted simultaneously as Dean just stared at you.
"Where have you been all this time, Y/N?" Sam asked and you could see that hurt look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in the last few years, Sam. I've been a little busy as you can see." You gestured to your son and picked him up.
"Yeah. I can see that, but a text message wouldn't kill, you know?" He suggested, and you gave him an apologetic look.
"That's very true. I'll remember that next time, but I'll be taking my leave now. I don't want to disturb you or anything-"
"You are friends of papa and daddy! Come to our house! I have several toys!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"Castie, they are busy now." You said.
"Oh, we're not busy right now. And a place to stay would be great." Dean spoke up for the first time since being there.
"Yay! Come on daddy, they want to see my toys!" He spoke excitedly and you found yourself giving a defeated nod. You knew that something was about to go down and you we're not prepared for it.
You each went to your cars and went to your home.
---
Dean wasn't stupid.
You left him five years ago and now you show up with a 5 year old child who has the same eye color and freckles just like him.
He didn't know how it happened, but he knew the child was his.
And knowing that you hid it from him made him more angry then he cared to admit.
---
You were at your house, Castiel and Sam we're playing with your kid while you made coffee with Dean watching you.
"Papa, can you please get me my puzzle so I can play with the giant!" Castie asked, and you smiled at Sam's bitchface.
You went to Castie's room and were looking for the puzzle when you heard the bedroom door close and turned around to see Dean standing before you.
"Are you psychotic or something? How did you do that?" He pushed you up against the wall with his hand around your throat, "Is he a clone of mine or what?"
His large hand tightened around your throat, "What are you talking about, Dean?"
"The child. He's a copy of me. Did you do any sick spells to copy me?" He questioned, anger getting stronger and stronger.
The tightness in your throat made it difficult to even answer the question.
"Dean let him go, NOW!" Castiel's deep voice came out of nowhere and pushed Dean off you, "The child was the result of a spell, but not done by Y/N himself. He was a victim of the spell." The angel explained and Dean gestured for him to keep going.
Honestly, you would have rather let Dean continue to hate you than know the truth.
"Five years ago, Y/N was hit by a witches spell. The spell was supposed to kill him, but she mispronounced it and ended up casting an old spell that allowed male pregnancy. That's what happened. It wasn't his fault." The angel explained.
Dean looked back and forth between you and Castiel and you could see pain, hatred, and sadness in his eyes.
"Leave the room, Cas. I want to talk to Y/N alone." The hunter ordered and started pushing the angel out, or at least tried to.
"I'm not going anywhere!" Cas stated firmly.
"You can go, Cas. If anything happens, I know that you're only one prayer away."
The angel looked at you hesitantly before nodding and leaving the room.
Dean closed the door and looked at you.
"We have a son and you never even thought of telling me. The child's father?!" He yelled at the top of his lungs angrily at you for not even bothering to tell him that he has a kid.
You sighed, "Look, I didn't want to see you after what happened. I was already confused and stressed out about having a damn baby inside me." You sighed again, "I really don't want you here."
He was so angry that he punched the wall and you flinched slightly, "Dammit, Y/N. He's my son for crying out loud!"
"Oh, please. Your son my ass." You scoffed bitterly, "I raised him for the past 5 years with Castiel. If he's anyone's son, it's Cas's son."
"No, Dean," You denied, "You were the one who made me leave you, or don't you remember what you said that night." You stalked forward towards Dean who stood right there in his spot, "Oh Sam, Y/N is just a temporary thing. A way to get free and easy sex. He is not who I want in my future. He is only there until I find someone I really love." You imitated his speech from that night before walking away and sitting on the bed as Dean stayed silent.
He rolled his eyes and let out a bitter laugh, "So this is it? You and Castiel? Did you leave me to be him?" That sentence through you for a loop and that made anger that you have been trying to hold in resurface
"I'm just doing what I always wanted. I got out of the hunting life and your life, and I didn't want to add a baby on top of your plate." You got up and went to the shelf, picked up the puzzle for Castie, "You can go ahead and fuck some girl in a bar, marry her and have a perfect family." You opened the door and left the room wth Dean staring at the ground in regret.
---
The rest of the day you and didn't speak to each other. He looked at you with a sad expression on his features, but you focused your attention on Sam and your son.
Cas told Sam everything that had happened in the past 5 years and he offered help if you wanted it.
Obviously, you accepted his offer and said that he could visit his nephew whenever he wanted.
You offered them the guest room and sofa for them to sleep on. As much as you didn't want to see Dean, you wanted to be able to get your relationship back with Sam.
---
The brothers solved the case in 3 days. They said goodbye and soon left after that.
During their stay, Dean was restless and always seemed to be thinking about something, but you chose to ignore it and just pretend that the conversation between you two never happened.
---
Days have gone after the Winchesters hunt. Your boss for some reason asked you to leave for a few days. They would be disinfecting the building and you weren't complaining. After all, you could have more time with your son.
Castie had been a little weird in the last few days. He was more reserved and closed off a little. You saw him laughing now and then along with talking to himself, but when you asked him he said his only reply was that it was a secret. You just assumed it was something little children went through, but with your former life, who knows.
You were in the kitchen, baking a pie.
Castie, unfortunately was just like his dad when it came to favorite foods. You just put the pie in the oven when you smelt something strange and vaguely familiar.
Freakin' sulfur.
You ran into Castie room where you saw the door was strangely closed and locked. You kicked open the door.
You ran inside and saw a woman with Castiel on her lap.
"The young child has Winchester blood inside him. He could be very useful." She turned to face you with her black eyes.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Just leave him alone, please." You pleaded.
Castiel seemed to be sleeping on her lap while she pointed a knife at his throat.
"Why should I? Winchester no-" A demon killing bullet went straight through her head before she could finish.
"Y/N!" A deep voice called out to you, but you ignored it and ran to your soon and was glad to see that he was okay.
"Y/N is everything okay?" You heard Dean ask and you nodded
"Shit, that was too close." He exclaimed.
"This is a perfect example of why I didn't want you to get too close to him. Now, he is a target. Demons and other monsters will be targeting him." You sighed.
"Y/N," Dean started, "I know this life is dangerous with everything that comes with being a hunter, but you'd be safer with me." He said and you rolled your eyes, "The bunker is the safest place on earth and-"
"I'm not going to raise my son with any connection to the supernatural world, Dean!" You exclaimed as Castie started to wake up.
"Daddy? What happened?" He asked, turning to face Dean, "Father? You came back!" He ran out of your arms and went straight to Dean's.
"Father?" You questioned.
Dean looked down at the ground as he ran his fingers through his son's hair, "I told him."
You looked at him as if you wanted to kill him, and you kinda wanted to.
In addition to putting your child's life at risk, he made his way back into your life.
"He needed to know Y/N." Dean tried to reason in with you.
"Daddy, father. You'll be together with me now, right?" He looked at you with puppy eyes
"Castie your dad and I have problems and I don't think it would be good for"
"We have problems that need to be worked out. Problems that I will overcome and I will not commit again." Dean spoke proudly, as he took Castie into his arms.
"Can we please daddy! Father told me that he lives in a fortress! It must be much nicer than our house! There must be lots of toys there!" Castie said excitedly and you wondered what toys could possibly be in a bunker.
Trying to hide things from Castie didn't work out anymore. The supernatural world wants his head on a silver platter now and you didn't know if you would be able to protect him by yourself now.
You really didn't want to go back with Dean, but the bunker is a safe place and you would do anything to keep your son safe.
You sighed, "Okay, we're going with him, Castie. Go get your things while I talk to your father, okay?"
“Okie dokie! "He happily picked up his toys as you and Dean made your way out of his room and into your room.
"Just so we're perfectly clear, I'm doing this for him. Do you understand? I don't want us to go back to being how we used to be. Let alone stay in the same room as you. Got that?"
"If that's what you want, Y/N. But, I changed, okay? I have been miserable without you. You are the light of my life, and I didn't want to admit it and pretended that you weren't important but, without you all I did was drink and-"
"You used to do that all the time when we were in a relationship together. Seems that you haven't changed as much as you thought you did." You interrupted him, leaving the room to go help your son pack.
Dean knew it wasn't going to be easy to get you back or even to trust you again. He expected it to be difficult. But, he would get there and he would win you back and would raise his son together with you.
He had no limits when it came to getting you and son to move into the bunker to be near him and to get you back into his arms.
Hell, he already hired a demon to almost kill his own son just to scare you.
But, he didn't die and now you, and Castie are safe and would be living with him.
The only thing he had to do now was get rid of that damn angel and he could finally have the perfect family he always wanted.
#dean winchester x male!reader#dean winchester x male reader#dean winchester x reader#supernatural x reader#supernatural x male reader#male reader#x male reader
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Barbara, and Bennett: Toxic Positivity (and how they each exude it)
While it's easy to spot negative toxic behavior, toxic positivity can be harder to recognize and pin down. In this blog, I am going to analyze 2 characters in Genshin and explain just how they show traits of toxic positivity. (I originally was going to include Jean, but I already covered her in an earlier blog so it'd just be redundant)
Barbara Page
Barbara is all smiles and sunshine, trying her best to ensure that everyone is happy. However; she does this to an unhealthy degree and often does not prioritize her emotional wellbeing.
#1: Forcing herself to always be happy.
Barbara's story lines state that she "only allows herself to be depressed for 30 seconds" and that after that, she basically puts on a smile; regardless of what she's actually feeling. She often talks about how good everyone is to her, and I honestly believe that Barbara invalidates her own depression because in her eyes; she has a good life and there's no "reason" for her to be sad, plus if she was sad then everyone else would feel down. She hasn't experienced anything traumatic, so how can she have the right to be depressed? But the thing is, she has: her parents divorced when she was young; and Barbara grew up apart from Jean, leading to a lack of a relationship between the two. While the divorce, based on Jean's story lines, did not seem to have a lot of negativity around it (from what I can tell Simon and Frederica actually split on amiable terms, they just fell out of love with each other), it still affected Barbara in a negative way and no doubt she is hurting from it but she's not acknowledging her pain. All trauma is not the same, this is true. But all trauma IS valid; just because someone is hurting less doesn't mean they're NOT hurting and Barbara needs to understand that her pain is valid and give herself time to process it.
#2: Lack of emotional boundaries
If there's anything that Jean and Barbara have in common besides both being healers, it's that they're absolutely terrible at saying no. In Barbara's hangout, she feels guilty for avoiding Albert and wanting to be left alone despite being emotionally exhausted and even wants to apologise, despite doing nothing wrong. Later on when her fans ask for autographs; she agrees, despite being off the clock and trying to take a break: Aether has to step in personally to get people to go away, and not only that; he has to lie through his teeth in order to do so. If you tell the NPCs the truth ("Barbara is currently on leave, please don't disturb her",) they'll reply "Oh she's on leave? Perfect time to ask for an autograph!" They don't care about her feelings; all they care about is what she can do for them and the worst part is that Barbara lets them treat her like this. It's so bad that the Knights have to constantly step in and rescue her because folks can't get it in their heads that off the clock =/= available; and Barbara feels like if she can help other people that she needs to; to the detriment of her own needs. She seems to think it's selfish to put herself first; but looking out for yourself emotionally is anything but. It's okay to say no, it's okay to tell people you're not available. Just because you're free doesn't mean you're up to engage and there's nothing wrong with that. But like Sister Victoria says herself; Barbara is too nice. She gives and gives and gives and expects nothing in return, and people take advantage of that.
#3: Undermining herself through constant praise of others
In her hangout, she tells you that besides singing and healing, she doesn't have anything worthwhile about her, and then goes on about how amazing you are, Jean as well. Barbara doesn't acknowledge her positive traits, and then when she vents to you she apologizes for doing so, since you were supposed to be hanging out and having fun. She puts a lot of her worth in comparison to what other people can DO, and not actual character. Barbara is a lovely person: she's sweet and kind and loving, but because she doesn't see herself as physically strong or powerful, she doesn't think she's worth a lot.
Bennett
My GOD, Bennett is like the EPITOME of toxic positivity.
1. Allows others to mistreat him and take out their feelings on him because he feels it's his fault they're suffering (essentially, a martyr complex)
Bennett's hangout is a prime example of this where when Royce got angry, Bennett simply let him yell until you step in. Due to his almost perpetual bad luck, he feels that he's responsible for the misfortune of the people around him and since he can't physically do anything about it, he attempts to "atone" by letting himself be emotionally assaulted.
He also puts himself in physical danger to keep other people safe (he figures since he's already unlucky, might as well suffer a little more if it means everybody else is okay, right?), and accepts abandonment as the norm since he's a liability. Bennett does not value his wellbeing whatsoever due to constantly being in danger and he seems to be of the mentality "If I'm going to die, at least let me die protecting everybody" and that immensely upsets me that a KID, who's probably no older than 17, is already considering his mortality.
#2: Not allowing himself to process negative emotion
Just like Barbara, Bennett constantly forces himself to always keep a smile on, only in his case it's more to keep himself from getting overwhelmed about his situation. It's heavily implied in his story that Bennett is afraid that he could die any day (and I don't blame him) and so he lives hard and fast because he feels he doesn't have a lot of time. He's cheated death MULTIPLE times (he almost died as a baby, and he almost died prior to receiving his Vision), and Bennett more than likely feels that one day, he's not going to get lucky enough to escape again; and he'll actually die. His life is an entire string of misfortune and unlike Barbara and her parents divorce, Bennett is aware of this trauma: he simply chooses to take it in stride and forces himself to stay upbeat. Which is just as bad as letting negative emotion completely overwhelm him, it's literally just the other ditch.
Bennett also seems very sad about the fact that his team abandoned him but he doesn't let himself process that either (if you respond angrily to the revelation that his teammates left he'll jump to defend them and insist "they had their reasons"- and that may be true, but that doesn't invalidate the trauma and sadness of being left behind because of something you literally cannot control). Similar to Diluc, Bennett is sort of an Atlas of his own right, but instead of carrying all of Mondstat on his shoulders he's shouldering his emotional wellbeing: he refuses to vent to anyone and bottles everything up because he doesn't want to be a burden; but in doing so he's only hurting himself in the long run.
(Thank God for Razor though it seems like he might be hanging around for the long haul and that makes me immensely happy. I could cry. Please don't let anything bad happen to him and Bennett they deserve friendship)
I'm going to go off the beaten path a bit here but, to all you guys reading this; please remember that:
1. Your trauma is valid, regardless of how "lesser" you think it might be.
2. You are not obligated to give yourself emotionally to other people if you are not up to it. You cannot give what you do not have, and if you're not 100% emotionally wise, you really shouldn't be taking on any more negative energy. It's not selfish to take care of yourself. If people can't respect that then they're not worth your time. Set emotional boundaries and don't budge for anyone. The people who are meant to stay will honor your boundaries.
3. It's okay to be sad! And it's okay to be sad and have no idea why. It doesn't matter if you have a 'good life,' depression doesn't care who you are or where you are on your walk of life and sometimes it hits like a truck. Your sadness is valid and don't be afraid to take the time you need to acknowledge and process your negative emotions.
Please take care of yourselves, friends; and be safe.
Have a good day. 💗
#bennett#barbara page#did i get a little choked up writing this? YES. yes i did.#seriously guys you don't have to be a shoulder all the time.. it's okay to lean on other people. ok?#genshin impact
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Aria + Periods + 127 = Chaos
Taeil
taeil has a younger sister, so he didn’t need her to explain anything to her
honestly, he’s one of the members she’ll go to first if she needs anything
the least likely to make a big deal out of it
just kinda
shrugs
and does what is needed of him
sometimes pain meds don’t do anything for aria’s cramps they get so bad
and on those days, she’ll slid into his bed and either
A: snuggle with him and let him cuddle her
or B: just curl up underneath his sheets until he gets back from wherever he was and then do option A
he really hates her periods
like, more than she does
because she’s always a little deflated in the upcoming days, and for the first two of the actual periods
and he hates seeing her in pain or be sad
even if the thing she’s sad at is the advertisement of the cute dog
definitely chuckles at her when she comes to him with slightly teary eyes and whines that she misses her dog now
but opens his arms willingly anyway, letting his maknae plonk herself in his lap and rest her head on his chest
Johnny
there is no better man to try and make aria feel better
that’s actually a lie
aria will point blank avoid him on her periods
he read once
once
in an article that physical exercise helps with cramps and the other pms-ing symptoms
and now every single time she opens her mouth to complain about her uterus trying to eject itself from her body
johnny’s right there with an invitation to the gym
he’s literally packed and changed, they can go right now
truth be told aria took him up on the offer once
never again
she couldn’t walk afterwards
he had to carry her out
asides from that though
he’s pretty okay with everything?
like obviously, he doesn’t really get it all too much, but if she wants someone to massage her back, then he’ll offer without too many questions
but when she’s crying about something?
oh ho ho ho
bear hugs
just a big ol’ swaddling hug that makes aria feel warm n safe n content
they heal everything
it’s aria’s life philosophy
Taeyong
totally understanding
she needs pads? he’s either already bought them, or will go out to buy them for her
doesn’t have a tracker for her, but somehow knows when she’s cramping the week before its due
once came up with the innovative idea of using their handwarmers as a makeshift hot water bottle when they were on a schedule and aria was suffering :(
aria gets really bad lower back cramps, and its super common to just see him gently pushing her onto the couch
so he can try and massage some of the tension
keeps pads in his travelling bags
completely unprompted - it just started being something he’d pack
like heat packs and pain patches and bandages;
period supplies just eventually got added to the list
was a little uncomfy with the whole thing at the start
but his older sister yelled at him
told him to stop “being a baby” and “she’s your responsibility, act like it.”
aria felt really bad for burdening him with it all
lowkey wished she was a boy for inconveniencing everyone with it
and taeyong had to sit her down and tell her no baby
it was natural and it didn’t bother anybody
that she didn’t have to hide it
that she could come to them if she was in pain because of it
Yuta
oh this man
when he found out that aria was getting lightheaded on her periods
when he found out that she passed out once on her period
did so much research on why that might have happened and how to help
literally stayed up all night and came to aria the next morning like
“are you eating enough iron?”
the answer was no, btw
made it his mission to make sure aria did after that
always has a little bag of nuts or something else in a side pocket of his bag if he knows aria’s on her period
gets concerned asf when she misses her periods
because he knows it’s because of unnecessary diets or her putting in extra time in the practice room
aria loves going to his room when she’s feeling miserable
he’s always down to watch a movie or just lay down with her
he’ll plait her hair or just lay together and press a lil kiss to her forehead when she whines about the cramps
hates hates hates when she cries
he knows it’s because of hormones, he has two sisters
but that doesn’t make it easier
will do absolutely anything to get her to stop crying
once went out at 3am to get her ice-cream
which actually made her cry harder
bc she felt bad that she couldn’t eat it because she’s lactose-intolerant
he just felt worse
that was not a good night
now the freezer in the dorms has a little tub of non-dairy ice-cream with aria’s name on it
curtesy of yuta
Doyoung
when aria first moved into the 127 dorms
he bought a little pink box with a lid that he then proceeded to fill with tampons and pads; the whole shebang
which he then put in the locker beneath the sink
and told anyone that if they made a big deal out if it, he’d kill them :)
incredibly perceptive
knows when aria’s on her period before aria knows
“hey do u need a pad?” “ why do i need a pad?”
*an hour later*
“oppa do u have any pads”
he’s less of a come here and i’ll comfort you type
and more of a, i’m going to help you from the sidelines without ever actually acknowledging it’s existence
like perceiving it makes it worse
honestly aria’s pretty thankful he’s like this
she loves that the other members take care of her like they do, don’t get her wrong
but its like, for five days - she can do no wrong, she’s accommodated, and sometimes walked on eggshells around
it’s nice to have someone who’s going to treat her like normal
to balance it out
does that stop her pulling the “i’m in pain” card when she’s about to get scolded?
no
Jaehyun
jaehyun doesn’t have any siblings, so he was really learning from scratch with aria
however
that was actually a good thing
because it meant that whatever aria told him; he did
if she needed a heating pack - he’d go find one for her
if she needed to just lie down for a bit - he’d take her into her room and close the curtains to let her take a nap
now, she didn’t take advantage of this
much
but she just thought it was really sweet of him
and tells him as much
and every time, he’ll just pat her head
maybe a lil kiss on the forehead
and pull the blanket up to her chin before leaving and flicking off the lights
that’s kind of the extent of what he’ll do
mainly because the other members have a lot of it covered already
but it’s pretty common for him to give her a piggyback ride somewhere
if her back is cramping a lot and she doesn’t/can’t walk
no complaints
he just kneels down and aria asks him is he sure
like she’s heavy or something
and he’ll just carry her to wherever they’re going
there’s a lot of fantaken pictures from these moments
people speculate that she’s injured or sick
it happens so regularly that nctzens are genuinely convinced that aria just doesn’t possess an immune system
Jungwoo
jungwoo was surprisingly well prepared when aria first bent over from a sudden onset of cramps
man was ready and knew what to do
he had hyuck going out of the room for water
and had a hand placed on her lower back rubbing gently
never really makes a big deal out of it all
although has told her to play it up once or twice because he wanted to go to bed and practice was running late
she did, and they did end practice almost immediately after
honestly, aria’s pretty convinced that all of jungwoo’s information on how to deal with girls on their periods came from a wikihow article
but that did mean that he had taken the time to look up a wikihow article
so she guesses she can forgive him
and honestly, the fact that he takes it upon himself to do a little of her chores?
she’s not complaining
after the first three times she felt bad enough to tell him to stop though
he didn’t
and now it’s just normal
is very conversational about it all
has no problem with asking her what she needs, instead of hovering around and guessing
which makes it easier on aria as well
the first few times, she felt quite burdensome
and jungwoo levelled her with a look when she told him this
“the only way you’d be burdensome, is if you didn’t talk to the rest of us and suffered silently - in pain.”
that was the end of that really
Mark
unfortunately for mark
aria got her first period when she was with him
poor boy thought she was going to die
“ohmygod you’re bleeding - you’re BLEEDING-”
aria had to calm him down before going to the bathroom
he is pretty oblivious as to what exactly goes on
aria complained once that she missed her last two periods because of the stupid diet she was on
mark literally thought she was going to die
very concerned
she had to sit him down and tell him that no, she wasn’t going to die
he’s gotten better over the years
as a topic, he’s still pretty uncomfortable with discussing it
but its less of a “i’m a man and this isn’t a manly topic” and more of a “i don’t know anything about this subject and i don’t want to offend somebody, help”
he did by her her first hot water bottle cover though
up until then, she had been using hot water bottles wrapped in towels to prevent her skin from burning
but mark showed up one morning
with a yellow fuzzy thing hidden behind her back
it was a winnie the pooh cover :(
Donghyuck
cuddle buddies
that’s his main role
aria on her period? donghyuck’s pulling out the fluffy blankets and making a pile of her plushies on his bed
time to pull out netflix and cuddle
aria could cry every single time she walks into his room and he’s just opening the covers for her to slip underneath
he does it every time
and somehow she’s still not expecting it
it’s been five years bestie
has accidentally made her cry on more than once occasion though
he doesn’t mean to!
sometimes he’ll say something in passing
and aria will get upset but won’t show it
because she knows she’s not actually upset - it’s just hormones
so she doesn’t tell him she’s upset
and just leaves to go to her own room
does that stop doyoung telling hyuck off for being insensitive?
no
not at all
but he’s normally really good! especially after the first few times
living together has generally made him more preceptive
also just growing up in general
if her cramps are really bad she’ll wake up during the night
and if she had slept in hyuck’s bed the night before
then he usually takes it upon himself to go get her pain meds and a hot water bottle
he’ll rub her back and help her fall back asleep
and then he’ll make sure to write down in his phone that she took x brand of pain meds, so in the morning she’ll have to take y instead
#*aria.writings#nct 24th member#nct#nct dream#nct imagines#kpop addition#nct extra member#nct female member#nct female member au#superm#kpop additions#kpop!oc#kpop#nct female oc#nct additional member#nct additions#nct addition#this is reposted bc tumblr hates me#there was a rant about the patriarchy in the notes before#but a re-typed rant doesn't hit the same#*sigh*
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Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend
BSD misc. Reader insert
Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.
The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.
Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.
Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.
Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.
“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.
The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.
It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.
“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.
This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.
“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.
“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.
Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.
“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.
“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.
“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.
“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.
“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.
Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.
Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.
“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.
“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.
“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.
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Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺
Some Space
A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!
This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.
Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation
Words: 2590
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell
“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”
You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”
“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.
You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.
“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.
Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”
“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.
“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”
“See you later?” he finished.
You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”
*****************************
That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.
It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.
“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.
You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”
“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”
You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.
*************************
As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.
“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.
You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”
He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.
You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.
“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.
You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”
“Sober as a fox.”
*************************
You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.
Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.
You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.
“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.
“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.
“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.
Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.
“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.
He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.
“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.
Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.
***************************
IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.
***************************
It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.
One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.
“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.
You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.
“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”
You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.
Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”
You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.
“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”
You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.
When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.
“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.
“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.
After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.
“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.
You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.
Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”
As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.
*******************************
Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.
“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.
He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”
“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”
His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”
“What do you mean?”
Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”
You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.
“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”
“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.
He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”
“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”
Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”
“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”
He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.
“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.
You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”
He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.
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Apartment 307-11 (Bruises)
TWs: Gore, brief mention of emeto, creepy and unstable whumper
Morning didn’t come for a long time. Elora’s body clung to sleep as it fought desperately to even begin to heal the severe wounds that had been inflicted the day prior. Merely surviving was beginning to become much harder of a task then she’d ever hoped it would be; waiting around for someone to save her wasn’t quite working out, and neither was saving herself. She was having to fight tooth and nail just to live, which was both exhausting and incredibly depressing.
She finally opened her eyes as she felt a hand roughly shaking her shoulder, jerking her body around until she begrudgingly awoke. She pushed stray hairs away from her face and tried to roll over, but the man’s voice was booming with its volume and closeness to her ear.
“Elora. Get up. It’s almost two o’clock.”
She wanted to tell him to fuck off, that if he was going to torture her, she had every right to sleep however much she wanted to, but she knew it was irresponsible to be causing any trouble in the state she was in. Her body had withstood so much abuse in the days she’d been there already, she feared that without time to heal, anything else major could easily tip her over the edge of life and death, make her pass out and not wake back up.
And hell if she was ready to die.
“I’m awake,” she said in a dull, monotone voice, her eyes still adjusting to the light streaming into the room through the opened blinds. She sat herself up, slowly, cringing at the pain of her ankle dragging along the sheets.
“Good,” she heard him mutter, and she resisted the urge to scowl at him. The last thing she cared about was his approval, and yet here she was, walking on eggshells to avoid setting him off. What a mess she’d gotten herself into.
“I’m not going to do anything today,” he told her. For some odd reason, it wasn’t very reassuring. “I’m not stupid. I’m not trying to kill you.”
Her lips moved much faster than her mind. “Gee, thanks.”
He shot her a glare. It made her skin crawl, just the pure intensity in his eyes.
“Watch it.”
She did. She didn’t want to, but something about his tone and expression made her deeply uncomfortable to the point that she feared doing anything but precisely what he wanted.
“You wanna take a shower? You need it,” he said plainly. God, he couldn’t even extend a kind gesture without being a douche about it. Elora wanted to spit back that she wondered why she needed a shower. Maybe it was the layers of dried blood coating her skin, or the dirt from being mercilessly dragged along the ground the night of her kidnapping. She kept her words to herself, though, responding only with a nod.
She could already imagine it, the warm water running down her body, washing away the blood and the sweat and the dirt and the fear she was certain he could smell. How she craved it, the simple pleasure of being clean-something she’d already lost.
“Okay. Up we go, then.” The man lifted her up from the bed, an arm tucked beneath her knees and the other behind her back. She hated every minute of being so close to him. His breath smelled like cigarettes and his shirt was scratchy. Every bit of her body screamed at her to get out of his grip, but she was stuck, without another choice in the matter. A bitter horror fell upon her at the realization that this was her new reality whenever she had to move around the apartment. It wasn’t like she could get up and walk around. The persistent throbbing in her ankle was a painful reminder of that.
At the very least, the walk was short. He just carried her into the master bathroom and set her down in the tub. It was slightly roomier than the one she was usually kept in, but clearly much more used. A couple bottles of mens’ 3-and-1 wash lined the ledges and the floor was damp.
“Might be weird not standing up, but you’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Elora nodded, but the man just stood there, leaving the air stale with the silence in the room. She looked up at him for a moment, trying to gauge what he was doing, what he was thinking. She hoped he’d leave. While she knew he probably had a difficult time trusting her alone after the mishap yesterday, privacy was still a much-appreciated commodity. He stared at the wall for a second, not looking her in the eyes, before muttering about grabbing something and walking out. Elora froze, fearing he was going to bring back some awful instrument of torture, but instead, he merely returned with a pile of items in his arms. An old, worn towel and washcloth made the base, with a haphazardly-folded set of clothes atop it, and faded, half-used bottles of drugstore shampoo, conditioner, and body wash over that.
He set the stack down next to her, on the floor by the tub. “Yell when you’re done,” he told her. And that was it. He left.
There was no catch, no earning her prize or cruel tricks. He just left her alone to shower. It was like he felt bad. He should feel bad. But she shook the thought of vengeance from her mind, deciding to just focus on the mercy she’d been shown. She knew she should savor it while she had it, as she doubted it would last long.
Awkwardly twisting her body to avoid using her broken hand, she grabbed the bottles and set them on the ledge of the bathtub, then carefully removed her clothes, grimacing as she had to stretch the cuts lining her arms and drag fabric along her broken ankle. Once she finished, she finally turned on the shower, tensing as cold water rained upon her, but practically melting once it ran warm. It was soothing, though it did slightly sting the wounds it hit. Still, the benefits far outweighed the harm and she shut her eyes to fully take in the comfort, wishing she could stay right in this moment until she was found. Enveloped by the warmth, the man only a passing thought in her mind.
She began with the shampoo, taking her time to work it into her scalp, washing away the dirt, blood, and oil that had built up over the last few days. It felt so nice to be clean, to be free of the filth coating her body. She savored every moment as she washed and conditioned her hair, then took painstaking attention and care as she scrubbed her body with the washcloth, carefully avoiding or only gently dabbing at the wounds littering her body. And even when she had long been done, she remained on the floor of the tub, letting the hot water soothe her aching body as she stared ahead at the wall. She feared that taking too long, though, would make the man suspicious-or worse, angry. So, despite not wanting to and not having a clue when she’d be given this privilege again, she turned off the water and began to dry off with the towel. She didn’t want to get the clothes she’d been given all wet, so she awkwardly and rather maneuvered herself up to sit on the side of the tub. She quickly found that getting dressed was just as much of a struggle as getting undressed-especially as her skin was still damp. Pulling on the plain undershirt and blue sweatpants earned quite a few hisses of pain, and she was more than relieved when the task was over.
There was a sort of longing ache in her heart at the fact that the clothes weren’t hers. It was just another thing that had been stripped from her, another bit taken away. At the very least, though, they were clean. It didn’t seem like they’d been washed, just taken straight from a cheap bulk package. That was probably what they were. Elora didn’t mind, though. At the very least, they were comfortable, and clean. Both fit her relatively well, too, though the legs of the pants were short on her.
She was about to mournfully call for the man as she’d been instructed to do when she looked over herself, just one last time, and found her staring down at the massive bruises covering her fingers and ankle. She’d been preoccupied with getting clean earlier, so her eyes had just skimmed over them, but now that she took the time to really look, she was horrified. They were so much clearer now that the blood was washed away, looking almost cartoonish as she stared in disbelief. Deep shades of blue and purple wrapped her entire ankle joint as it stuck painfully out to the right. She knew that she should set it, but she didn’t have the slightest clue how, and it was far too severe to heal magically. All she could do was look on in shock at how misshapen it looked, how it almost seemed like a watercolor painting, colors coating and speckling the skin. Her fingers, too, were a horrific sight, curled in on themselves, swollen and multicolored. She couldn’t look away from her mangled hand and foot, feeling sick at how mortifyingly intense they were. She wanted to vomit at the mere sight of them, at the thought of the logistics. How many surgeries would it take to fix this when she got out?
If she got out.
Tears slipped down her cheeks and she abandoned the thought of calling for the man at all, just gawking at her injuries, letting the severity seep in, and bawling. Time slipped by quickly and soon she’d been in the bathroom for almost an hour, which prompted the man to come in and check on her. He knocked on the door and called her name, and she startled, her shoulders trembling. She didn’t respond, just sat there until he burst in, swung the door open himself. Their eyes locked and he saw the redness around her eyes, the puffiness of her cheeks. His brow furrowed for a moment. He hadn’t done anything wrong to her, what was her deal? But his gaze followed hers back to her broken limbs, and he gave a knowing sigh.
An awful guilt crept up in him and his expression was stone cold.
“I’m not a bad person, Elora.” His voice was firm, but thick, with a sense of sadness to it. Elora looked up at him from her spot perched on the side of the tub, shocked by his sudden entrance. Her eyes were still teary, threatening to spill more at any moment.
“I’m not.”
The girl still didn’t say a word and Clyde felt his guilt start to turn to anger. “Stop looking at me like that. Like a-like a sad fucking puppy.”
Elora’s bottom lip shook. She sensed it, his rage. She knew that, no matter what she did now, things weren’t going to end well for her. They never did, when he got mad like this.
“I’m not t-trying to-”
“Shut up,” he shouted, and her mouth suddenly closed, her eyes still wide as they stared up at him.
“I’m not a bad person,” he affirmed. “I did what I had to. You-you never fucking listen.”
Elora had no clue what to say, what to do, so she merely nodded in agreement. Sure. Whatever he wanted to believe. Whatever he needed to hear to not hurt her even more when she was already-when she couldn’t handle any more.
The man advanced towards her and she nearly screamed in pure terror. She wanted to back away but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. He bent over and gripped her chin and she inhaled sharply, eyes watery.
“Say it,” he seethed. “Say it. I’m not a bad person.”
She was forced to look in his eyes, their faces just inches apart as he jerked her chin up. Her voice shook as she spoke. “You’re-you’re not a b-b-bad person.” A sharp inhale ended her sentence, petrified that it wasn’t right. That it wouldn’t be enough.”
He released her chin and she felt relief flood her for all but a second before he shoved her off of the ledge of the tub. She landed flat on her back on the tile floor, the air knocked out of her lungs by the force of the fall. She wheezed and tried to sit up, but he was upon her in a second, kneeling on her chest with his hands around her throat to restrict her breathing even further.
“Say it like you mean it,” he insisted. There was nothing but anger in his eyes.
Gasping and sputtering, Elora wheezed, “You’re not a bad person!” Her tone was desperate. She felt like she was dying. But that was all the man needed to hear. He eased off of her and stood, brushed himself off, then simply picked her up from the ground and slung her over a shoulder, a far cry from the gentle way he’d carried her to the bathroom in the first place.
He was grinning. Relief washed over him. A cool, calm feeling.
“You’re right, Elora. I’m not. I’m not a bad person.”
tags: @exploringspaceinpyjamas @all-whumped-out
#apartment 307#elora story#elora larkin#clyde anderson#whump#whump writing#lady whump#femwhump#whump fic#whumper#creepy whumper#whumping#psychological whump#physical whump#bruises#torture
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𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 (𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞)
Pairing: Song Mingi (Ateez)× Reader (Female) ft. Park Seonghwa (Ateez)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor.
Word Count: 3.5K
Summary: Mingi has liked Y/N for the longest time and works up the courage to confess to her.......until he witnesses her confessing to someone else.
Tag: @seacottons . Happy birthday my tiny goofy goober.
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"Scribbling away another love letter that you'll end up throwing in the garbage bin yet again?"
Mingi quickly covered the paper in front of him with his large hands, startled by the voice of his friend who silently came in the room.
"Yeosang don't freaking scare me like that! Seriously, I'm going to ask Seonghwa to put a bell on you."
Adjusting the glasses on his nose, Mingi carefully folded the paper before placing it inside a pink colored envelope which he ended up wrapping a string around it. For the final touch, he attached a small flower on it like he did on all the other ones, this time it was a mini red carnation, which he gently kissed before placing it in the stash with the others.
Yeosang simply shook his head and sighed.
"Mingi, I'm no relationship expert, but don't you think it'd be better to tell Y/N how you feel instead of pouring your heart out into a piece of paper and storing it in a cold corner?"
The taller male sat still for a couple seconds, thinking about his friend's words. Maybe he would....and yet-
"No I- I can't do that! I mean, look at me. I'm just Mingi and she's Y/N."
Yeosang rolled his eyes.
"Yes, glad to see you know both of your names. But what's keeping you from telling her? Like seriously?"
Kicking himself off the chair, Mingi slumped onto his bed, sprawling all over it and groaning dramatically.
"She's super cool, funny, kind, caring and has eyes to die for..."
Lifting his head up he smiled goofily at Yeosang who just scrunched his nose at how lovesick Mingi was. Coming back to reality, Mingi rolled over onto his back. Clutching a nearby pillow, he hugged it as he looked at the ceiling.
"And I'm just me.......she'd never fall for someone like me..."
Yeosang sat next to him. Patting his arm in an effort to comfort him, he suggested:
"Why not try still? Who knows? Maybe you'll end up being surprised yourself."
Mingi pondered over his Yeosang's words long after he was gone. He looked back at the stash of written confessions he had drafted over the past months.
"Why not? After all, it wouldn't hurt me to try......"
"Right?"
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Y/N paced back and forth around the living room, feeling extremely anxious and agitated.
"It's ok Y/N. Just breathe and you'll be fine. The worse he can do is reject you right? No biggie." She mentally told herself.
Looking back at the cake on the island, she double checked to make sure it looked perfect and even. She had to remind herself to thank Yunho for telling her what his friend's favorite cake was, even if he had demanded a cake of his own as payment for the information. She got startled when she finally heard the door open.
"Don't panic! Don't panic!" She couldn't keep herself from fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater.
Maybe there was still time to back out of this, maybe she could pretend she dropped the cake for all of them, even if he was the only one there at that moment. She was so frustrated she actually leaned her forehead against the wall in front of her and whined lowly.
"Y/N?" She finally heard him speak.
Without turning around, she lifted a hand behind her to signal him to not speak. Taking a deep breath she declared:
"Listen! I'm only going to say this once so hear me out...."
The man behind her stood there, eyeing her curiously, wondering what she'd say. He was pretty shocked when he heard her continue.
"I've liked you for the longest time now...... like seriously like you. Every time I see you, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest..."
Sighing softly, she got to the final part.
"I understand if you don't feel the same, if you'll see me as nothing but a friend. After all, you're an idol and have so many pretty faces constantly surrounding you, and you're so handsome, so perfect and sweet and cute and- ugh! I just wanted to let you know that I really really like you ok?!"
She felt so embarrased by herself and actually contemplated banging her head against the concrete in front of her. She already could feel the rejection coming, the silence being the huge indicator. Not able to bear the silence anymore, she turned around.
"Stop dragging it on and just tell me- Seonghwa?!"
She was beyond mortified when she saw the eldest Ateez member in front of her, who was now poking at the cake.
"I mean........ I appreciate the sentiment Y/N, but you should know my favorite ice cream is strawberry. Not .....whatever this is..."
Y/N snatched the cake away from him.
"It's not for you idiot! And the confession wasn't for you either!"
Seonghwa pretended to be hurt by her words.
"Ouch. You hurt me so bad." He mock pouted, causing her to roll her eyes.
"But honestly, thank God it wasn't for me. I was about to get a heart attack from thinking about how to let you down gently."
Y/N looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, no offense Y/N. You're cute and all but I just see you as a friend." He explained.
"None taken. You're cute and all but I just see you as the other's nanny." She teased him.
"Hey you take that back!" He swatted at her, causing her to laugh and almost drop the cake.
"Ok but if you weren't expecting me to come by the door? Who were you expecting?"
Leaning his elbow on the wall, Seonghwa looked at Y/N with a mischievous twinkle in the eye.
"Tell me. I must know who among our members is it that makes your heart pound so much?"
"That's my secret." She pretended to zip her lips tightly.
"Awww come on! I hardly get any excitement anymore! Tell me! I wanna know!" He continued pestering her to dish it out.
She bit her lip before deciding she could trust him.
"It's.....it's Mingi. ..."
Seonghwa immediately got a shocked look on his face which terrified Y/N, but then it confused her when he started smiling widely.
"Are you serious?! That's great!" Seonghwa actually hugged her tightly.
"Why is that great?"
Seonghwa leaned in, pressing his lips to her ear.
"Because, he may or may not be also crushing on you....hard."
Seonghwa chuckled at her reaction.
"Cute. Super cute."
Seonghwa couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle his nose against her cheek, making Y/N make gagging noises at his affection and jokingly attemp to escape his grasp.....
Yet neither of them noticed the heartbroken pair of eyes that was watching them.
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Mingi was upset for the next few days and didn't even try to hide it. He couldn't get that image out of his head. He could still hear Y/N's voice say:
"I've liked you for the longest time now...... like seriously like you. Every time I see you, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest...
I just wanted to let you know that I really really like you ok?!"
He was so shocked to hear her say that. For the longest time he had wanted to hear her utter those words....
But they weren't for him, they were for someone else.
He couldn't stay anymore. He quietly exited the dorm to give them both the space they needed. Waiting for several minutes outside, he debated whether to go back inside and see what happened or just go back to the company to practice the choreography once more and hopefully get his mind off things. Curiosity getting the better of him, Mingi slowly opened the door again and silently peeked his head back in.
He instantly regretted it and wished he had just gone back to practice. It absolutely destroyed him watching his Hyung be lovey dovey with the girl of his dreams and he knew he'd hate the coming days. Which was why he stayed in his room or just went out to practice to keep his mind occupied.
He wasn't in the mood to play with Yunho, mess with Hongjoong and especially not eat what Seonghwa cooked. It started to worry the others and of course, it also worried Y/N to no end. She tried to cheer him up, make him his favorite foods or try to get him out of bed, but it was all in vain. Mingi would end up shutting down more and just dismissing her attempts, sometimes harshly.
"Y/N please just leave me alone! I don't want to see you!" He yelled at her one day when he just couldn't control what he'd kept bottled up inside.
He instantly felt bad when he saw her sad and disappointed eyes, but didn't apologize. He simply grabbed his coat and went for a walk, leaving the poor girl in total disillusionment. Y/N sat down on his bed, her hand gently stroking the throw blanket he always kept.
"Now you've got a long face. Don't tell me it's contagious."
Usually she'd chuck a pillow at Yeosang's comment, but she didn't even feel like doing that.
"What's with you?" Yeosang asked as he took a seat next to her.
"I'm just....hurt.." She admitted.
"Why?" He continued his interrogation.
"I just......wanted to help Mingi but instead he lashed out at me and it hurts because I care about him a lot and it hurts to have the person you like treat you so coldly."
She didn't even realize she had just told Yeosang her secret, but she was too hurt to even think about the words coming out of her mouth. Yeosang however seemed intrigued by what she said, and knowing how Mingi was pining for her as well, couldn't understand either why he'd make her feel that way.
"If it's any consolation..... he likes you too."
Although Seonghwa had already hinted that Mingi liked her too, she couldn't really take his words seriously because Seonghwa tended to misinterpret things. But she knew Yeosang was straightforward and honest in everything, plus he wouldn't make something like this up.
"He does?" She looked at him incredulously.
Yeosang nodded. Remembering the box Mingi hid, he got up, not caring whether it was ok or not to do this, but something had to be done. Picking up the red box he placed it on Y/N's lap.
"Read them. They're Mingi's. Maybe there you'll find a clue about what's bothering him."
Ruffling the top of her head, Yeosang exited the room and closed the door behind him, knowing she'd probably want the privacy.
Snapping the latch up, Y/N was more than surprised to see several letters neatly laid out in the box. There were at least a dozen of them, all addressed to her and stacked by the order they were written in. The envelopes were all different colors, and each had a unique flower attached to it, some already dried out from how old they were, but others were still fresh and vibrant. Picking up the first one in the stack, she noticed it was dated 1 week after she had just moved into the apartment next to them.
"Dear Y/N,
I know you'd find it odd to hear me say this, but I think you're so pretty and nice and I was wondering if one day you'd like to go on a date with me? Let me know."
She giggled softly at how cute he was. She poured over the next letters one by one, each time they were getting longer and longer than the last one, and they certainly became more romantic.
"Dear Y/N,
It's been only a few minutes since we all went to bed cause New Year's is over, but I honestly can't sleep. Not when my head is filled with images of you at the party, looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress you wore. Let me tell you, I could hardly keep myself still when the fireworks began. I seriously wanted to kiss you right then and there, and I would have, but that would have probably freaked you out and I can't have that. Admiring you was enough for me and I know I will get to kiss you, even if it's only in my dreams."
Y/N fondly remembered that. She recalled how she fantasized about Mingi kissing her as well. She desperately wanted him to cup her face and just plant his luscious lips on hers. She could feel herself blushing as she thought about how they would feel and what would they taste like. It was well an hour later but she finally reached the last letter, which was actually written up just yesterday. This time it was in a dark blue envelop and it had a tiny stem of Forget-Me-Nots on it.
"Dear Y/N,
I know it's foolish to keep writing these things when I now know you can never be mine, when I know your heart belongs to someone else. But I need to get it off my chest and finally say this:
I love you..."
She clutched her heart when she read that, tears already forming in her eyes.
"I love you, but I can never have you. Yet I hold no resentment towards you. You're free to love who you want. I wish you and Seonghwa Hyung nothing but happiness and I hope he treats you like the princess you are.
Forever yours, hoping you never forget me,
Song Mingi."
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what he meant by being happy with Seonghwa. Then it hit her. Mingi had started acting strange the day after the misunderstanding with Seonghwa happened. Which meant he must have seen something and thought-
"Oh my God!"
Y/N quickly ran out the room, almost bumping into San who dramatically slammed his back on the wall, holding his beloved baby high above any danger.
"It's ok my precious Byeol! Your father has saved you from this heathen who doesn't know that she shouldn't run in the house especially when I'm with child!"
San shook his head and held the feline close to him as he walked into his room to play with her, singing an unintelligible tune that wasn't exactly pleasant to the siamese' ears.
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Y/N was once again sweating nervously. She kept looking and shuffling the plate of macarons in the middle of the table. She specifically poked at the pink one, hoping it wouldn't fall apart or anything. She could hardly take a sip out of her own coffee as she waited for Mingi to get there. She was beginning to worry he wouldn't show up at all, but Yeosang promised to make sure he did. She took out her phone to text Yeosang, ask him if he succeeded or should she just think of something else.
"Y/N? Did you call me here?"
She fumbled with her phone that almost dropped out of her hands when she finally heard Mingi and saw him standing there in front of her.
"Uhm...yeah. Please sit."
She gestured for him to sit which he hesitantly did. He kept his glance on the table, not even looking at the drink or treats in front of him. Wanting to break the ice, Y/N shifted the cup and plates closer to him.
"Look. I got your favorites."
She hoped to get a reaction out of him, but nothing. He barely batted an eyelash at them.
"Oh.....thanks...." Still made no move to take anything.
Feeling impatient, Y/N shoved the plate of macarons closer, making it touch his hand.
"Mingi.....won't you please take one?"
He sighed in defeat, and as expected, he took the pink one.
"I appreciate your effort Y/N. You're a good friend. But don't you think your boyfriend might get jealous of you doing this? We all know how Seonghwa is with his possessions."
Y/N wanted to refute that statement right then and there, but instead, she chose to wait. Mingi took a bite out of the macaron, or at least attempted to but it felt oddly hard and weird. Examining it closely, he accidentally broke it apart in two pieces, and out came a tiny folded paper. Mingi looked at Y/N, who just pointed to the paper, her eyes urging him to open it. Mingi carefully unfolded the paper and his eyes went wide as he read the contents:
"I love you too♡"
Confused and wondering what it meant, he was going to ask Y/N about it, but she began explaining:
"That day.....that you saw me and Seonghwa..... I thought it was you who was standing behind me."
If they weren't sitting in a booth and had instead been at one of the tables with high chairs, Mingi would have seriously fallen out of it.
"That confession....was supposed to be for you.."
Mingi couldn't believe what he was hearing. He actually pinched himself to make sure it wasn't another beautiful delusion his mind was making up.
"Are.....are you serious?" He had to be sure.
Y/N nodded her head.
"Then....then why was Seonghwa kissing your cheek afterwards?"
Y/N giggled softly.
"That wasn't a kiss. He was just being the little shit he was and teasing me about you."
Now it all made sense. Seonghwa did enjoy teasing Y/N and that teasing was always followed by a pinch to her cheek, a squeezing of her nose, or even messing up her hair.
"So it was all a misunderstanding?" Mingi asked.
"Yeah. A rather big and painful one if you ask me." She added sadly.
Then Mingi's eyes shot up as he realized something.
"Wait! What do you mean you love me too?"
Now it was Y/N's turn to blush.
"Well...... Yeosang kinda showed me all the letters you wrote."
Mingi thought he was about to have a heart attack.
"Please tell me you didn't read them all."
When she bit her lip, Mingi grimaced and covered his face.
"How embarrassing. I want to die now."
"Well.....I thought they were really sweet and romantic. I loved every one of them."
Peeking out through his fingers, Mingi squeaked out an "Really?"
Y/N couldn't resist the urge to uncover his face and coo at him.
"Yes I did, almost as much as I love you."
Mingi blushed intensely at her words, both of them bursting out into little giggles.
"So that cake you made.......those words you said..... it is for me?" He looked at Y/N with hope in his eyes.
"It was always you Mingi."
Pouting, Mingi held out his pinkie.
"Promise?"
Linking her own pinkie in his, she promised:
"Promise it was you and it will always be you."
Mingi was happy once again now that everything was cleared up and he found out the girl he loved reciprocated his feelings. They left the cafe together, both shy and quiet as if they were a newlywed couple. Mingi kept glancing over at her, wanting to say something, but didn't know what. Unconsciously, he brushed his hand against hers.
"Sorry!" He apologized when she whipped her head at him.
"I swear! I wasn't trying to-"
His words got caught in his throat when she held his hand and continues walking as if it was totally normal. Mingi couldn't stop himself from smiling at their physical contact.
"So uhh..........when is it an acceptable time to have our first kiss?"
His question made her burst out laughing. He however didn't find it funny.
"I'm serious! I just want to know when it'll be an acceptable time to kiss my girlfriend!" He complained.
Stopping in their tracks, Y/N faced him.
"Ok you really wanna know?"
Mingi nodded. Feeling bold, Y/N got on her tippy toes and pecked his lips so quickly it took Mingi a couple seconds to register what happened. Y/N began running back away and laughing at his dumbfounded expression. Once he got over the shock, Mingi began sprinting over to her.
"Hey! No fair! Come back here! I wasn't ready! Let me kiss you properly!"
Having longer legs, he easily caught her and threw her over his shoulder.
"That was so mean." He huffed as he began walking again, not caring if people looked at them weird.
"Ok what can I do to make it up to you?" She offered.
Humming softly, Mingi answered:
"I want you to cuddle me while we watch movies."
Y/N shrugged.
"Done. It's a deal."
Not hiding the smug smile on his face, Mingi added:
"And I want to kiss you."
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#ateez#ateez mingi#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez mingi fanfiction#ateez mingi scenarios#ateez mingi angst#ateez mingi fluff#ateez mingi fanfic#ateez mingi imagines#song mingi#song mingi fanfic#song mingi scenarios#song mingi angst#song mingi fluff#song mingi fanfiction#song mingi imagines
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Before You Go | Jacob Markstrom
Summary: Lyrics: “And I know it makes you laugh, if I say it first would you say it back? // I don’t know how to say I love you before you go”
Words: 4.3k
Note: my fave @danglesnipecelly wanted a Jacob fic and what K wants, K gets. So here it is! Excuse my sadness about the trade. Not proofread, we die like men.
--
It’s the most cliché way of meeting someone.
Later, you wonder if your friends are even going to believe you when you tell them. You wouldn’t, if the roles were reversed; you’d make a joke about them watching too many romantic comedies. But you don’t even like romantic comedies, and yet here you are.
“This isn’t good,” the guy says, a frown on his face. He pushes the elevator button a few more times, and you nearly snap at him.
It’s not suddenly going to start working because you keep jamming on the buttons.
But, well, you’ve seen him a few times before: not enough times that you think he lives in your building but maybe someone he visits often. And he’s never been anything but nice, saying “good morning” and smiling at you, holding open the door, remaining completely unbothered when you spilled coffee over his very expensive looking shoes.
You don’t know his name, but he seems like a nice enough guy, so you don’t yell at him. He’s also really hot, but that has nothing to do with the fact that you don’t yell at him.
“I think we’re stuck,” he says. There’s a hint of an accent there, one that you can’t place.
“You think?” you repeat, dryly. You let your eyes travel to the little screen telling you what floor you’re on. It’s been saying ‘3’ for way too long.
“Fine.” The guy laughs. “I know we’re stuck. What I don’t know is what we’re going to do about it.”
“I’ve seen enough action movies to know that there’s no way we’re gonna climb out of here.” You shoot him a pointed look, fixing your gaze on his arms – which are massive. “Although, you might be able to. Me, not so much.”
“I wouldn’t leave you here,” the guy scoffs, and it’s almost annoying how genuine he seems about it.
“So then we wait, I guess.” You slide down the mirrored wall of the elevator. If you’re stuck here a while, you might as well sit down. The guy seems to agree, because he sits against the opposite wall.
“So what’s your name?” he asks, and you introduce yourself. He does, too: his name is Jacob, and he’s originally from Sweden, which explains the accent. But he lives in Vancouver now and one of his friends lives in this apartment building.
“Oh, Alex!” you exclaim, when he tells you his friend’s name. “He’s very nice. He helped me build a table once when I just moved in.”
It was an IKEA table, so it was only fair that the only Swedish guy you knew helped you build it. Although you suppose he’s no longer the only Swedish guy you know, now.
“I’ve seen you around many times,” Jacob says, after some gentle ribbing about Alex’ table building techniques. “Too many times to only now learn your name.”
It’s a feeling you recognize. Jacob’s voice is nice and calming, and you think it’s only his kind blue eyes that are keeping you from having a freakout about being stuck in an elevator.
“I guess if it’s meant to be, the universe will find a way for two strangers to get to know each other,” you tell him with a small smile. You’ve never believed in serendipity before, but if there ever was a time to start…
“So it’s all up to us now to see where it goes,” Jacob says.
And you suppose if you had to get stuck in an elevator you’re glad it’s with him.
--
If it was serendipity for you to meet, it’s fate how well you fit together.
Jacob is everything you could want in a partner. In fact, if someone had asked you to design your perfect partner, you probably would’ve come up to someone awfully close to him; the only exception being that he wouldn’t have a job that takes him away from you so often.
Dating has never been fun for you, before. Relationships as a whole as a can of worms you’ve never been tempted to open, but you’ve been seeing Jacob for a few months now and you can feel the clock ticking.
He’s not pressured you, hasn’t even mentioned it, but the thought weighs heavy on your mind: if you don’t soon put a name to what you have, you might lose it.
And that’s the last thing you want. Dating has never been fun except now it is, because dating Jacob is just like hanging out with your best friend, who is really hot and you also like kissing and having sex with. And relationships are scary but when you’re with him, it doesn’t feel like that.
Nothing feels scary, when you’re with him.
“So I’m leaving for the California trip tomorrow.” Jacob takes a sip of his drink. His eyes are glued on the movie you’ve been watching, even though it’s not a very good movie: you’ve lost your attention long ago.
“I know.” You know because you’ve put the Canucks schedule in your phone, but you don’t tell him that. That seems like something you maybe shouldn’t do. Like a girlfriend thing to do, and you’re not that.
“It’s gonna be a long one,” he continues. His voice is almost too casual, and you don’t buy it for a second.
You’re gonna miss him, too. But you don’t really know how to say that. Instead, you move a little closer, lay your head down on his shoulder. His arm is curled around your body and the weight of it is comforting.
And suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You feel too safe and comfortable and good to imagine Jacob coming home and not asking you over right away, and you know you have to talk to him if you want this to last.
And you do. God, you do.
“I actually kinda wanna talk about something,” you force yourself to say. Jacob veers up as if that’s exactly what he’s been waiting for; maybe it is. He surely knows you well enough.
He switches off the movie and turns halfway, so he’s facing you. It’s harder, that way, to speak, so you fix your gaze on your hands.
Jacob’s hand comes into view, as he carefully takes one of yours and laces his fingers through yours.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he hums, and you tell him. You don’t want to, but you do, because you can’t bottle it up any longer.
“I really like you. And I’ve been wanting to ask, or, talk about… What this is, between us. Or what you think it can be, I guess.”
Jacob’s voice displays only curiosity when he answers. “This is hard for you.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement, but you know there should be an explanation from you anyway. He deserves to step into this knowing what he’ll get, and it’s hard because there’s a chance he decides it’s not worth it.
That you’re not worth it, too hard and too messy and too many skeletons in the closet. It’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done, maybe, to open up to him like this.
But if it was ever the right time to roll the dice and try, now would be it.
“I’ve not had a lot of good, healthy relationships in my past to look back on,” you admit. “My parents had a really messy marriage until they got divorced, and my previous relationships have been somewhat of a shit show, if I can say that. So I think… It’s just kinda hard, to open myself up to that again.”
“I understand,” Jacob says softly, and you can tell from his voice that he means it. “But you think you wanna try?”
“Yes.” It’s not a hard question to answer. “Like I said, I really like you, and, well, I think what we have could be really special. So I wanna try.” You finally look up to send him a small smile. He smiles back, eyes filled with fondness and understanding.
“But you have to give me some time, okay?” you ask. “Allow me time to try. And to figure it out.”
“All the time in the world,” Jacob agrees easily, and when he leans in it’s not scary to kiss him, to feel his hands travel across your skin, the warmth of his mouth on yours. If anything, it feels right.
--
You’re already in bed when your phone buzzes, the expected FaceTime call coming through.
“Hi,” you smile, as soon as you answer. You know the smile probably doesn’t quite reach your eyes, not after the day you’ve had – but the connection is kinda blurry so hopefully Jacob won’t be able to tell.
Jacob frowns. “What’s wrong?”
Well. So far that idle hope.
“How did you know?” you huff, immediately letting the façade go. You were going to ask him about his game first, but now there’s no use. There’s no way he’ll wanna talk about that when he’s noticed your mood.
“I know you,” he answers easily, and that’s true.
Suddenly, your heart squeezes with how much you miss him. You wrap your arms around yourself, balancing the phone on your knees, and thread your fingers into the soft worn cotton of a shirt that definitely doesn’t belong to you.
Carolina is very far away, and you feel it when you look at the screen. It doesn’t feel the same, with Jacob’s face blurry and unable to feel the warmth of his skin.
“Hey,” Jacob says, softly. “Talk to me.”
He moves and you can see more of the environment behind him now, the hotel room bland and generic as most hotel rooms are. You wonder if he misses home when he’s there, or if he’s been around the world so much no place really feels like home. Maybe those generic hotel rooms are familiar to him like a home, too.
Vancouver feels like home to you, most of the time. But it’s not where you’re from and none of your family lives there, and that makes it hard sometimes.
“Is Vancouver your home?” you ask Jacob. The question probably comes out of nowhere but it doesn’t seem to faze him: at the very least he doesn’t show it.
“Yes,” he says. “Sweden is, too. I think I have many homes.” He cocks his head to the side, seemingly staring into your soul even all the way from Carolina. “Why?”
“I guess I just miss my family,” you tell him. “My sister broke up with her boyfriend and she’s really sad and I just wish I was there. We’ve been talking on the phone, but…”
“But it’s not the same,” Jacob hazards a guess, and, yeah, that’s pretty much what it comes down to.
“You know,” he continues, in a tone of voice that betrays nothing about the fact that he’s about to say something incredible, “Vancouver became a little more like home to me when I met you.”
In books and movies, they always talk about the butterflies in your stomach when you first realize you love someone. But it’s nothing like that, for you. It’s more like a tsunami of light flowing through your veins, lifting a heavy weight from your shoulders and replacing it with the comfort of a warm blanket.
And you wanna say it, say those three little words that mean so much.
“I…” you start.
“I loved him, Y/N,” your sister had said, just hours earlier. “How could someone I love hurt me so much?”
“I miss you.”
A tiny smile adorns Jacob’s face, almost like he knew what you were going to say anyway.
“Yeah,” he says, “I miss you, too.”
--
It has happened so many times that Jacob is starting to poke fun at you, a little bit.
“Don’t you just love sweet potatoes?” he’ll say, one eyebrow lifted and too much emphasis on the word love.
You know it’s stupid, okay. You know you’ve been with Jacob for way too long to still not have said those words. It’s a miracle, really, that he’s let you get away with it so long. Any other person would probably have long ago dumped you. Or at least gotten very mad.
And you don’t really know why it’s so hard for you. It’s not like you don’t love him. In fact, you love him with your whole heart, and every single day he does or says something to remind you of it. You’ve thought it at least a million times: God, I love you.
But something dark and twisted, deep inside your heart, tells you that it’ll only be true if you say it. If you say it, you open yourself up to the kinda hurt that’s come to everyone you know that has said it before.
Your parents, who got divorced. Your sister, who got her heart broken. Every single friend that’s called you crying about someone they loved. Every single previous heartbreak that’s left everlasting scars on your heart.
And it’s not like you really need to say it. Things are going well, with Jacob, and he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. Apart from his teasing remarks, he seems completely content.
Maybe he feels it when you kiss him, maybe he sees it in your eyes.
Sometimes, you come so close. So many times, you’ve almost said it. But every time you almost do, you don’t.
You think he notices, most of the time. A tiny smile will form on his face and sometimes he’ll even laugh out loud.
“But if I said it first, would you say it back?” he’ll ask sometimes.
“Of course I would,” you’ll say, but he never tries it, and you think that might be because he knows you’re lying.
--
And then the world gets turned upside down.
You guess you knew there was a pretty decent chance he wasn’t staying in Vancouver. But it was too painful to think about: every time you did, it nearly turned you dizzy and nauseous with worry.
If Jacob wasn’t staying in Vancouver, you’d have to think about what would happen to your relationship. And that wasn’t something you wanted to think about, because he became such a big part of your life you honestly don’t know what would become of you if he left.
But then you have to think about it, because it happened.
Calgary.
You’d never known one word could break your heart this much. And you’ve never hated one city as much as Calgary.
Almost in a daze, you make your way through Vancouver to go to his house. His house, that so much felt like yours before: it doesn’t anymore, and when you step inside you feel like a stranger in a familiar place.
Jacob appears in the hallway, having heard the click of the front door and your sneakers against the hardwood floor. His face is blank, devoid of any emotion, and you know that means he’s hurting.
He’s always smiling, usually, happy almost to a fault. He carries losses with great dignity, never complains, never gets angry or upset. He shakes things off like they slip away from his shoulders.
It’s something you’ve always admired about him, because things stick to you like you’re made of velcro.
This time, though, you can tell you’re not the only one hurting.
“I’m…” you start, but you cut yourself off. I’m sorry doesn’t seem like the right thing to say, and you don’t really know what else you could say.
Wordlessly, Jacob opens his arms, and you gratefully step into them, burying your face in his shoulder. It’s minutes before he speaks.
“At least it’s still in Canada?”
You can tell he’s trying to keep positive, as he always does. But there’s very little to be positive about, here. Calgary might be in Canada but it’s still so far away, and you wouldn’t see him for weeks on end…
“What about us?” you ask, words whispered against his shirt. It’s a surprise he hears you, but he does, and he pulls away immediately, frowning down at you.
“What do you mean?”
You swallow. It’s hard to get the words out but it’s something that needs to be talked about because his move could be imminent: you have no idea how long he’s planning to stay in Vancouver now that he doesn’t have to.
“What’s gonna happen to us if you’re not here?”
Jacob takes a step back, recoils like he’s been stung. It’s not immediately clear to you why he reacts like that, until he speaks.
“I wasn’t aware that anything had to happen to us.” His words are sharp and his face is still blank, but it’s the carefully constructed blank that tells you he’s hiding his true emotions.
You laugh, but it’s humorless. “You’re going to be in Calgary, Jacob. And I’m here.”
“I was gonna ask you to come.”
His words hit you like a tsunami, and for a second you’re rendered speechless. In that second, Jacob continues.
“I thought… We’ve been together for a while, you’ve said you’re not attached to Vancouver. You don’t like your job here. There’s no reason for you to stay here.”
And there’s a reason to go to Calgary, clearly. One very good reason.
But…
But if you go, and things go wrong, you’ll be in a foreign city with nobody. You don’t have friends there, you don’t have a job, or an apartment.
“Y/N.” Jacob’s voice is a little shaky. “Do you love me?”
There it is, the question that you wished to never answer. It lays between you like a heavy blanket of fog, blurring any connection there is.
For the first time, you’re not so certain about your future anymore.
Your future was supposed to be here, in Vancouver. You’d find a better job and in time, you and Jacob would move in together. He was supposed to be a Canuck forever and this would be where you’d raise your family. You’d get a dog, and a house with a garden.
And there’s no reason any of that couldn’t happen in Calgary, but. What if it didn’t? Suddenly you can only see yourself sitting on the floor of an empty, tiny studio in Calgary, snow outside, and nobody to talk to.
Apparently your silence has lasted too long, because Jacob speaks again, more forceful this time.
“Because if you love me, we can talk about this. We can figure something out. You could move with me now or later, or we could do long distance. We can make it work.” He pauses. “But if you don’t love me, maybe that’s just a waste of time.”
You love him. You love him with everything you have and everything you are. But there’s so many thoughts whirling through your brain, so many scenarios that could end so very badly.
And if you’re hesitating, maybe that means it’s not enough.
“I see.” Jacob takes another step back. Something calm has come over him now, a quiet resolve that the decision has been made. “In that case, please leave your key when you leave.”
And you open your mouth; you’ve gotta say it, you want to say it.
But Jacob’s footsteps are heavy as he retreats up the stairs and your feet are nailed to the floor. It’s impossible to move until at least ten minutes later, when you drag yourself outside.
The door closes behind you, the keys laying on the table in the hallway.
Tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you barely notice it. Nor do you notice the cold or the rain.
There’s so many things you don’t know, but if there was one thing you could’ve changed, you would figure out how to tell him you love him before he goes.
--
It’s been 4 days, 5 hours and 20 minutes since you left Jacob’s house and with it, his life.
Not that you’ve been counting. In fact, you’ve done everything you can to distract yourself from counting: eating ice cream, watching movies, calling your sister.
During one of those phone calls, she says something that pretty much shakes the ground you stand on.
“Just because you didn’t tell him you love him, it didn’t change much about how broken your heart is right now, did it?”
Of course, you told her everything: your sister is your rock, your best friend, the only person that knows all of your secrets.
“Uhm,” you say, eloquently, as you let the words sink in. She’s right.
Damn it.
Your whole relationship with Jacob, you’ve been worried about this. About heartache. Because from the very start, you knew how amazing he was, how precisely right for you. And losing him has always been the thing you were most scared of.
Sure, you were afraid to say those three words: but it was because you were convinced it would change things. Like something would shift inside you when you did, and somehow it would bind you to him more, ties that would tear in the most hurtful way when it ended.
But now it’s ended, and you’re hurt. You don’t think you could be more hurt, by anything in the world.
Including if you’d told him you love him, first.
And after everything he’s done for you, everything he’s put up with, after the way he so fearlessly loved you even when you refused to give him that back, he deserves to know.
“I’ve gotta go,” you tell your sister, and she laughs.
“Good luck, babe.”
It’s only two days until he leaves.
You probably shouldn’t know that, anymore. You lost the right to know those things when you didn’t tell him the one thing he needed to hear. But you couldn’t just let him go without at least knowing he was gone, so you’d texted Petey and he told you.
Not happily. You’re not surprised Petey is mad at you. He’s hurting too, probably, but not like you.
But then, that’s partly your own fault.
It’s weird, to knock on Jacob’s door. You haven’t done that in God knows how long, ever since he got you a key. You remember his grin when he handed it to you, shrugging his shoulders.
“It feels as much like your place as mine, by now.”
And it did used to feel like that, but not anymore. You wonder if it still even feels like Jacob’s: surely he’s been packing his stuff, maybe even already shipping it to Calgary.
You don’t get to think about it more, because the door opens.
Jacob looks… Well, he looks good because he’s too good looking to not look good, but he looks tired. Worn out, even: dark circles under his eyes and the blue orbs contain no trace of the sparkle you’re so used to. When he sees you, he frowns.
“Y/N?” he asks. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
It’s ridiculous: after all of this he shouldn’t be asking you what’s wrong, he shouldn’t be worried about you still. He should slam the door in your face or maybe yell at you some more.
But he doesn’t. He wouldn’t. Because he’s the best person there is and he loves you, and you’ve always known it but he hasn’t known the same in return, and..
“I love you.”
You blurt out the words before you can fully process it and you can tell that he wasn’t expecting it, either. His eyes widen and his mouth is a little slack, and for the first time since you’ve met him he looks completely at loss for words.
So you just keep talking.
“I was so scared to tell you that, because somehow I thought if I didn’t say it it wouldn’t hurt so much when it went wrong. All I’ve known is love going wrong, and I guess I thought if we didn’t call it that maybe that would stop it from hurting. But now it’s gone wrong anyway and it hurts so much and I realize it couldn’t hurt more, so I might as well say it.”
You take a deep breath.
“I guess this isn’t the right way to say it, or the right time. But I had to say it now because you’re leaving and I can’t have you leave without knowing. I had to say it before you go.”
Jacob looks at you, and suddenly he’s smiling. Despite everything, it’s enough to make you smile back.
“Now,” he says, “was that so scary?”
“Terrifying,” you admit. “So, I said it first.”
“I guess I’ve got to say it back?” Jacob hums, and then he’s stepping forward and kissing you.
Now you know what they mean in the movies and the books when they talk about butterflies.
“I love you.” He whispers the words against your lips between kisses. “I’ve been loving you. I will continue to love you.”
When he pulls away you take the opportunity to bury your face in the crook of his neck.
“I don’t want you to go to Calgary without me,” you mumble. It’s easier, now, to say it: what you’ve been thinking. What you’ve been wanting. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Jacob answers without even pausing to think. “You don’t have to. Remember what I said?”
“If I love you we’ll figure it out,” you remember, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.
“So?”
“I love you,” you tell him, again, and you know you’re gonna tell him again and again and again and again.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” he promises.
And you believe him.
#jacob markstrom#vancouver canucks#calgary flames#<--- OUCH#nhl fic#jacob markstrom one shot#jacob markstrom imagine
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A Lifeguard's preach- please read
Okay, hi, welcome to my Ted talk. So surprise for some of you but I work as a lifeguard, and I have some things to say about my experience for the 2 years I've worked as one.
A lot of people have decided it's okay to crap on first responders lately, which is a subject I will lightly touch on. But pool lifeguards have been under-appreciated for a very long time. The pool I work at is like a mini-waterpark. We have slides, basketball hoops, a water playground, a lazy river (with tubes), an obstacle course, and concessions. Were not just your neighborhood pool, which means there are more dangers to look out for. Because you can tell yourself that things never happen, but that's a lie. Every day, things always happen.
So today I was walking my stand (grazing stands there called because you walk back and forth for 20 mins straight and then move to the next stand to do it all over again for another 20 mins. repeat that process for 2 hours on lazy river rotation). And this lady decided to sit right in the middle of where I'm walking. Now in lifeguarding, we have to keep a 10/20, which means 10 seconds to see someone and 20 seconds to get to them. And the zone I'm on is SCS which is the little kid playground, y'know, with TODDLERS AND BABIES EVERYWHERE. So in order to properly scan my zone and make sure none of these babies start choking on water, I ask her to move. And she looks at me and goes, "well you should have a sign there that says that." She moves, but did this lady seriously tell me that we should have a sign that says- "Please don't sit in the Lifeguards way. They are trying to make sure you and your child don't die." Like what?!
It's not just her, I alone have been disrespected so much on this job, it's stupid. I've had moms tell me to LEAVE MY ZONE and go get their kid because it will be my fault if they drown when the mother herself is on the other side of the lazy river. I've saved a boy and the mother said, "He was fine. I'm not filling out the paperwork, I just want to enjoy my last ten minutes here." Like, YOUR FUCKING WELCOME.
I am so sick of this. Do people don't even know the amount of training we do just to even work? I have at least 200 hours of training, and I don't even work the full year's cuz of school. It's not just CPR y'know? I know how to and train to handle Rescue-Breathing, seizures, chest compressions (yes, that is different from CRP), allergic reactions, heat stroke, burns, chemical burns (mostly for employees because we work with that stuff), Heimlich, Spinals (head, neck, and back injuries), eye trauma, and more. I, WE, may be no police officer or EMT, but we know our shit.
For working in general, while you're sitting in that cool water enjoying life. Where sitting there (or even worse, walking) in 2-hour rotations sweating our asses off. You can talk about those umbrellas we get on sitting stands all day BUT THEY DON'T DO CRAP. Because the sun MOVES in the sky. And most shifts are from 10:45 to 6:30, open to close. I have only worked 3 shifts that haven't been 7 or 8 hours long.
"What about lunch breaks?" well guess what, we don't get one! Every 2 hours we get 17 min breaks (15 guards on stand and 3 in break room at all times, that's how our rotation works) that could be interrupted at any moment because people don't drown on a schedule. My water bottle is broken (it leaks) from how many times I've thrown that thing when a long whistle goes off.
Just imagine, you're sitting there eating your well-deserved sandwich, slipping some water from your water bottle, chatting it up with the other guards. And then out of fucking nowhere- BRRRRRRRRRRRRR- *Hi this is adrenaline, I'm gonna turn all the way up now* "OH SHIT SOMEONE'S DROWNING FUCK FUCK FUCK-." And now you, your boss, and other 2 break guards are sprinting full speed across the pool deck trying not to trip over your own equipment. With your food and water bottle forgotten on the concrete of the guard-room floor. [It was a very sad day. I had ordered Jimmy Johns just for that...]
I have saved 8 people, all of them children. And every day, there are at least 2 saves, which means someone is drowning and a lifeguard has to jump in for them. Realistically though? There have been too many days for me to count where there were 8 or if not more saves. People take pool safety for granted, there fucking idiots who think that just because they're tall enough to go down the slide they can swim in the 12-foot deep catch pool. They think that they can go in the lazy river without a tube. Or that they don't need a lifejacket. Parents are idiots, who don't watch their children. In one of my saves, I watched a kid disappear underwater in front of me. One second they were above water and the next, just gone. It's not like the movies guys, there's no screaming or splashing. There's the weird doggy paddle, and then they stop making distance and are weirdly treading, and then they're gone. And then you have to pick out from the kids who are floating with their backs on the surface, the kids who pretend to drown for fun, and the adults who think it's okay to "test" the lifeguards.
Just today, within the first 20 mins of open we have a lady pass out. There's something horrifying about holding someone's limp body in your hands and them not waking up. Last year we had a lifeguard pass out from the heat on the lazy river. Just flop straight onto the pavement. In years past we had a woman have a heart attack on the deck. We kept her alive until EMS arrived but she died in the hospital 3 days later. There was another lady who busted her knee open and bled everywhere. Stuff always happens.
I make $10.86 an hour to save people's lives and get shit on while doing it. It's not everybody, I meet those parents who say, "Don't worry, I'll yell at them." Those kids whole actually put their tubes back and put back the tubes that everybody left right next to the corral. That one dude who filled up my water bottle with his water because, "I looked like I was melting and needed something good today". Those girls who say I'm pretty despite all my scaring and me having short hair (yes I have gotten judged for being a girl and having short hair). But most of the time, we are ignored and looked down upon.
Trust me, we don't mind small talk. Or making jokes, telling stories. We just want to be appreciated. And I just don't feel that most of the time. My bosses have been amazing to me, and they are one of the only reasons I come to work with a smile on my face. But above all that, I just want to fulfill the childhood-old dream of being a hero. Of saving a life. I know I'm not quite suited out for firefighting or EMT's or policing.
But I'm still doing it. And I would like for others to just see me, instead of yelling at me for saving their child's life.
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before the bucket falls
jeonghan x (female) reader
requested from sensory prompt #33: the feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade
genre: study abroad/university au + apocalyptic-ish
wc: 4k
warnings: implied nudity i guess, maybe a few curses as well
a/n: i apologize that this took me ages to finish, also the bucket list is completed out of order, enjoy!!
(0. Hear That There’s A Week Until The End Of The World)
You hadn’t expected to be so nonchalant when you hear that the world is ending in a week. Hadn’t expected to so readily accept you and your classmates inability to return home from studying abroad for the semester. And you certainly hadn’t expected to sit down with Jeonghan that afternoon (an acquaintance-made-friend in the whirlwind of apocalypse news) to create a list of things to do before the world ends.
“We’ll start tomorrow,” he declares scribbling one final item on the bucket list before folding the paper and shoving it in his pocket, “and hopefully we finish before the world goes up in flames.”
(6. Bang On The Hood Of A Car And Say ‘Hey, I’m Walking Here!’)
Your first day before the end of the world begins with you and Jeonghan searching for a car.
“This one is...” Jeonghan frowns, rereading the sixth item on the bucket list. Looking up, he says, “it was your idea wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Now, get in the car and pretend to almost run me over.”
Jeonghan complies, starting the car and driving towards you all too slowly. Still, when he gets close enough, you bang on the hood of the car, half-laughing and half-yelling “hey, I’m walking here!” He only laughs at you incredulously.
You switch after that, you in the car and Jeonghan walking across the street. And this time, when you get close to his figure instead of banging on the hood, you hear a small thud and watch him fall to the floor. You run out of the car shrieking his name only to find him on the ground laughing.
“I thought-” you exhale, breath hot with a mix of shock and relief, “I thought I actually hit you.”
Jeonghan doesn’t say a word too busy literally rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach in laughter. And when you shove him, kneeling on the ground and smacking his arm for freaking you out, he only laughs harder.
(3. Steal Something)
Unsurprisingly, number three on the list is Jeonghan’s idea. You don’t argue, not at first at least. But when you step into the convenience store and begin shoving bags of chips under your shirt and bottles of soda into your bag, you start to feel the small push of your consciousness.
“Is this a good idea?” You say to Jeonghan who’s deciding which kinds of candy he wants to hide in his pockets.
“There’s no one even here.” He waves you off pointing at the empty cash register. “So honestly I’m not even convinced if this counts as completing number three.” Deciding on a chocolate bar, he turns on his heel, grabs an extra bottle of juice, and exits the store casually.
(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness)
You leave some money at the unmanned cash register anyways. “Number eleven,” you say to him when he gives you a look, “it can be our first act of kindness.” He stares at you for a long moment, as if deciding how he should react to your inability to shoplift. You half expect him to walk back into the empty store and take your money from the counter. He doesn’t though. Instead, he smiles, a lopsided one that makes some part of your stomach twist uncomfortably, and laughs towards the ground, his head hanging in a way that makes his bangs fall in front of his eyes. You feel suddenly, almost foolishly, warm.
“Come,” he beckons, pulling at your sleeve, “let’s eat.”
(10. Eat The Perfect Meal)
The perfect meal isn’t actually perfect, an odd mix of convenience store snacks and whatever you both had left in your dorms.
“We should have cooked something ourselves,” Jeonghan mumbles, between a mouthful of chips, “the perfect meal has to be made with love.”
“It also has to be edible,” you retort, sipping your coffee and recalling your earlier realization that neither you or Jeonghan can cook.
And it’s after a few more moments of eating away the tenth item on your shared bucket list that he asks, “how do you think it’ll happen?” You look up from your fruit cup. “How do you think the world is gonna end?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, “something big perhaps. An explosion?”
“Or Zombies?” he continues for you, light-heartedly. “Aliens, maybe?”
And perhaps two days ago, you would’ve laughed at the possibility of the world coming to an end thanks to an alien invasion, but right now, sitting next to Jeonghan with yesterday’s headlines bouncing back and forth in your head, you don’t feel anything but melancholic. And like feet sinking into sand, you realize for the second time since the news came out that you have less than a week left to live. With a hopeless sigh, you say, “I hope that when the world ends, it’s painless.”
And unlike his previous suggestions, there’s nothing light-hearted about the way Jeonghan adds, “something quick.”
(4. Sing A Song Loudly In Public)
You had wrongly assumed that this particular bucket list item was meant to be a fun and embarrassing karaoke in public sort of thing. But when Jeonghan stands on the ledge of the fountain in the center of the plaza and begins singing, you realize you've created a bucket list with an angel. Or at least, a boy with the voice of one. The plaza isn’t very busy this afternoon, but the few passersby that happen to catch his mini concert erupt in a well-earned applause when the song finishes.
“You can sing?” You question in disbelief of just how good his voice sounds.
He shrugs at that, jumping off the ledge in a shy sort of way that doesn’t at all match the kind of guy you pegged Jeonghan to be. “Your turn.” He pushes you towards the ledge.
You almost fight against the nudge, almost turn around and tell Jeonghan just how tone deaf you are. But when he smiles your way and cheers your name encouragingly, you decide the embarrassment might be worth it.
It’s not, it turns out. The entire plaza seems to murmur ‘why is she singing?’ the second you open your mouth. And it’s before you even reach the second verse that Jeonghan starts clapping and whooping for you. “Wow!” He exclaims cheerfully. “You suck.”
You burst into laughter at that, cut your song short, and jump off the ledge grabbing Jeonghan’s hand and running away from the embarrassment with him close behind.
—
“Where’d you learn how to sing like that?” You finally ask, later than afternoon as you and Jeonghan aimlessly walk along the street.
He shrugs again, a familiar timidness overwhelming his body, then tells you about the singing lessons he used to take. “It used to be my dream. To become a singer.”
“Used to?”
He sucks in his bottom lip. “Things changed I guess.”
You decide not to prod further. “If you could do anything right now, right before the world ends, what would you do?”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
He thinks it over for a moment, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Hold a concert.” He answers finally. And when you give him a look, a reminder of what he said about things changing, he just smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and mutters something about how dreams die hard. And for the third time today, you’re surprised by how shy Jeonghan gets about his singing and how endearing you find it when he does.
“What about you?” He returns this question, pushing the attention away from himself. “What would you do?”
“I’d go home.” You say quietly, hoping the press of sadness that comes with thinking about home doesn’t show in your voice. “See my family once more before the world ends.” And when Jeonghan doesn’t respond or meet your eyes, you laugh, unable to procure a more creative reaction. “It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?”
“‘No, no.” He says quickly, waving away the suggestion before the words can even settle in the air. “It’s not lame; it’s…” his voice trails off, fingers reaching out in front of him as if he’ll find the right words in the last remaining rays from the sun. His hand drops to the side. Seemingly, giving up on the previous sentence, he says, “Tell me about them. Your family.”
You’re about to say no. About to change the topic to something a bit lighter. Something that doesn’t force you to think about home and the people that you miss so fiercely and long to see once more. But it’s as the word ‘no’ bubbles in the back of your throat, that you meet Jeonghan’s eyes and find a starling amount of sincerity in them. And when you go looking for your intent to reject the request, you find it’s disappeared altogether. “Okay.” You exhale. “Where should I begin?”
And so you spend the rest of the day telling Jeonghan about your family, and by the time the sun begins to set, he tells you about his.
(12. Say Goodbye To Your Family)
You both decide it’s better to get this part of the list over with. Pulling out your phones and dialing home soon after the sun sets. It’s an odd sort of arrangement, you think to yourself listening to the phone ring, you and Jeonghan sitting on opposite sides of this empty street. “Privacy,” he had told you, walking away from you and taking a seat on the curb, “this way you can cry in private.”
It’s… bearable at first. You talk to your family, update them on what you’ve been doing since your last call home as if everything is normal, as if they’re expecting another update soon, as if the world isn’t ending in a few days. But the facade that everything is fine comes crashing down the second you hear a noise come from the other side of the road, a mangled sound that rushes all the way from Jeonghan’s mouth to you, banging at your heart and creating a dent between your lungs. And you suppose that if you were a little bit closer and if Jeonghan hadn’t turned around to put his back between him and you, you would’ve heard him sobbing. The thought alone ignites a flame of sadness that emerges from your lips, travels through the phone lines, and ripples across the ocean separating you and your family.
Saying goodbye to your family does not stay bearable for long.
He finishes the call before you. And when you do finally hang up, it takes ten minutes of calming down before you're in any state to walk across the road and greet Jeonghan for what feels like the first time that night.
“Can we, uh,” you stop, sniffle, then laugh at the absurdity of this moment, “can we stop here for today.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, finally standing from the floor. He doesn’t look your way, keeps his eyes trained to the ground while bringing a hand up to wipe at his nose and eyes. “I’ll walk you home.”
(5. Wish Upon A Star)
Sleep doesn’t come that night. You spend it tossing and turning in bed, replaying every bit of what was probably your last conversation with your family. At 2 am there’s a knock on your door. Jeonghan stands in the doorway, eyes drooping and blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
“Yeah,” you say, opening the door and letting him in, “I can’t sleep either.”
After another moment, he finally says, “have you ever been to the roof?”
You let him lead the way.
—
The night air feels cool against your skin, brushing through your hair and sending a shiver across your skin. You pull your hoodie closer around you before laying down on the roof next to Jeonghan who throws his blanket so that it drapes over both of you.
“Which one for number five?” He says gesturing to the starry night sky.
“Number five?”
“Wish upon a star.” He reminds you.
You lift your hand and point to one off the center, a bright one that flickers more than the others. “That one.”
“Okay,” he exhales. You watch the breath leave from his lips. “Make a wish.”
You do.
“Which star do you think is gonna blow up and cause the end of the world?” He asks, shifting his body and ending up a fraction closer to you.
“Give me a crash course on all of them and I’ll let you know.”
He does, making up constellations and creating fake names for each one.
And at some point in his explanation of the origin of each star, his hand finds yours. The cold seems to wither away after that.
(1. Ride A Motorcycle)
“Are you sure you know how to ride this thing.” You question for the fifth time that morning, pacing around the moped and Jeonghan who’s sitting impatiently on it.
“Just get on would you?” He huffs, dropping the extra helmet on your head and pulling you towards the moped. You settle behind him, fixing your helmet and clasping it in place. “You know how to get to the beach right?”
“Yeah, but we just need to make a pit stop somewhere first.”
“That’s fine. Grab on.”
Ignoring the unevenness of your breath, you wrap your arms around his torso. You try not to think too hard about the way he momentarily tenses up when you do.
“Ready?”
“Please, don’t kill me on this thing. We’re all dying in a few days-” He doesn’t let you finish, revving the motorcycle and laughing when you scream into his shoulder.
(11. Perform Three Acts of Kindness)
“What are we here for?” Jeonghan wonders aloud, his voice echoing in the auditorium.
“Number 11. Our second act of kindness.” He looks at your quizzingly. “Yesterday you said that if you could do anything before the end of the world, you’d have your own concert. So here,” you hand him a mic and point at the empty stage, “go sing.”
You’ve never seen him run so excitedly.
(3. Steal Something)
When Jeonghan wrote down ‘steal something’, you definitely hadn’t expected him to coerce you into stealing a house. “This isn’t even stealing. This is trespassing.” You hiss under your breath, looking over your shoulder. “Plus, we already stole from the convenience store.”
“Firstly,” Jeonghan begins, finding an unlocked window to the beach house and cracking the adjacent door open, “you paid the store so that definitely didn’t count. Secondly, trespassing is basically just stealing space. And lastly,” he announces turning around and waving to the open beach house, “this place is gorgeous and free.”
You peer inside the house and--shit, it is gorgeous. “Fine.” You relent taking a step inside the house. He smiles triumphantly.
“Come on,” he grabs your hand as soon as you set your things down and starts pulling you towards the beach, “time for number two.”
(2. Send A Message In A Bottle)
“Who should we write to?”
“A friend?”
“An ex?” He grimaces at the suggestion.
“How about ourselves 10 years ago.”
You consider it. “Or what about,” you start tapping a finger against your chin, “ourselves 10 years from now.” He gives you a wary look. “Just in case this whole thing turns out to be a hoax.”
“Do you believe that?” he asks quietly.
You bite your lip. “Not really, no.”
“To myself,” Jeonghan scribbles on the paper, “ten years from now.”
And when you're both done with the letters, you fit them inside empty beer bottles and let the waves take them.
Inhaling the salty ocean scent, you watch the bottles float.
“This moment would feel a lot better if I didn’t feel like we just made marine pollution worse.”
(9. Go Skinny Dipping)
The water is freezing, cold against your bare skin and lapping by your shivering mouth.
“It’s not that cold.” Jeonghan laughs, splashing sea water in your face.
You splash him back. “For you maybe.”
“Tell me a secret.” He says suddenly, stopping and treading the water in front of you.
You think for a minute before answering. “I really like it when you sing.”
“That’s not a secret; it’s a confession.” He complains, flapping his hands in the water. With a teasing smirk, he adds, “next you’ll confess your undying love for me as well.”
You laugh, sort of, swallowing salt water in the movement and choking on the sudden intake.
Clearing your throat, you say, “give me an example of a good secret then.”
“Okay,” he hums, biting his lip and swimming closer towards you until your knees awkwardly bump into each other. You swallow at the proximity. “I’ve never been in love.”
“Never?”
He shakes his head. “Have you?”
“Once.” Something in your stomach turns. “Or at least I thought I was in love.”
“And what do you think now?”
You meet his eyes. They look strangely hopeful. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
His hand comes up, fingers trailing over your shoulder blade and lingering right above your collarbone. You shiver.
“Still cold?” He whispers.
No, you think, but your head nods ‘yes’ before the word comes out.
He swims back to shore. And soon after, you follow.
(13. Fall In Love)
You finish showering before Jeonghan, coming down the stairs of your stolen beach house and taking a seat on the stolen (but comfortable) couch. You look for the bucket list to cross out skinny dipping for him. And when you find the folded list in a pocket of Jeonghan’s bag, you realize that this is your first time seeing it since the night of its creation. You read over it carefully.
1. ride a motorcycle
2. send a message in a bottle
3. steal something
4. sing a song loudly in public
5. wish upon a star
6. bang on the hood of a car and say ‘hey, i’m walking here!’
7. watch the sunrise
8. watch the sunset
9. go skinny dipping
10. eat the perfect meal
11. perform three acts of kindness
12. say goodbye to our families
And under the twelve that you and Jeonghan made together is another, additional bucket list item. Written in a different color pen and in his messy handwriting is:
13. get her to fall in love with me
“That shower felt so good.” Jeonghan’s voice comes traveling down the stairs. “I found sand in-” he stops, halts at the end of the banister upon seeing the paper between your hands.
“What do you mean ‘get her to fall in love with me’?” You gulp, holding up the list.
“Oh, that,” he laughs, awkwardly, slowly walking towards you, then stopping halfway as if he’s made a mistake, “I added it after you left that night. And, well, yeah.”
You stand up and go to him, meeting him halfway across the living room. “Jeonghan I-” you lose grasp of what you’re going to say next and elect to stare at him instead, studying the drop of water that falls from a strand of hair to his face. Decide instead to study the flutter of his lashes and the way his gaze darts between your eyes and your lips. He inhales. “Oh, fuck it.” you mutter finally, grabbing the collar of his tshirt and kissing him.
It takes a second for Jeonghan to react, too long your brain convinces you already beginning to pull your face away. But it’s as your lips leave his, that they crash together again, him pulling at your hips stumbling backwards until you knock your head against the wall, bodies flush. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangle your fingers through his wet hair. There’s a moan, you can’t be sure which one of you it comes from, but the sound of it has you feeling weak somewhere, everywhere.
“Upstairs,” you pant, when he pulls away for the smallest of seconds.
“Are you,” he pauses, lips hovering in front of yours and breath heavy against your skin, “are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you smile, noticing the flush in his face, glad he's just as affected, “I mean it’s on the bucket list.”
Jeonghan happily complies.
(7. Watch The Sunrise)
You both watch it in bed, from a window that seems to capture it perfectly.
“It’s pretty,” he states, holding a hand up in a straggling ray and watching it turn gold in the light.
“Only a few more left.”
(8. Watch The Sunset)
You watch it on the beach with a stolen towel from the stolen house under you. It’s beautiful really. A mesh of blues, pinks, orange, and purple.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunset like this one,” you say inhaling the salty scent of the sea that lingers on your arms and legs and hands.
Jeonghan hums, absentmindedly enough for you to turn around to look at him laying on his back and playing with a loose strand from your hoodie instead.
“We can’t cross it off if you don’t actually watch it.” You tell him, finding his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
He shrugs. “I’ve seen enough sunsets.”
(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness)
“Last item,” Jeonghan murmurs one day, settling into bed next to you, “one final act of kindness.”
You poke at his chest. “What do you have planned for it?”
“This.” He says, pulling out a small slip of paper. You sit up. “I bought you a ticket.”
It takes you longer than it should to realize it’s a plane ticket home.
“How and when did you…” your voice drops away, the logical questions slipping off your tongue when you make a new realization. “There’s only one ticket.”
“Listen,” he starts, turning to face you properly. “I think you should take it.”
“No,” you refuse, shaking your head. He takes your face between your palms forcing you to stop and pay attention.
“Go home and see your family. That’s what you told me you’d do before the world ends.” He hesitates, releasing your face and taking your hands in his. Something feels entirely wrong when he starts to rub small circles into the back of them. “You only have a few days left. So go home. Say goodbye to me instead.”
“Things change,” you say a little too harshly, regurgitating what he told you earlier this week. “And I don’t know if I can go anymore.” You sputter out just barely, voice feeling suddenly course against your vocal chords, but what you mean to say is: I don’t know if I can go without you. “And besides,” you stress, putting the ticket back in his lap, “you can’t make me go.”
“Don’t you see,” he chuckles, a small, quiet sound that has no business making you feel as warm as it does, “I’m not making you go,” he meets your eyes again, and for some reason, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that this is the last time you’ll see them like this, “I’m asking you to.”
#jeonghan scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen drabbles#jeonghan drabbles#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fanfic#seventeen#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan angst#svt scenarios#svt imagines#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#mine#before the bucket falls#lowqualityseventeen#my wrtiting
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The Last Toll
Dean Winchester x Reader
Words: 3865
Part One; Part Two
Summary: Trying to protect the boys from having to witness your death, you leave the bunker to die alone. Dean and Sam desperately try to find you before time runs out.
Notes: Here it is. The final part in this trilogy of twists and lots of angst. I am super proud of how this series turned out and I hope you guys enjoyed the ride. As always, let me know what you think! (But hey, keep an eye out in the future for possible continuations)
Warnings: Death, gore, sacrifice, lots of angst and tears
Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!
Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE
-
Monday 6:00 A.M.
You had exactly 18 hours left on Earth. 18 hours until a big invisible dog carries you in its mouth down to the eternal Big House. After arguing with Dean last night, it was finally hitting you. You were going to hell. An endless circle of torment that you had no escape from. Beside you, Dean turned over, still fast asleep. You smiled to yourself. You were going for him.
Carefully lifting the blanket, you silently got out of the bed. You grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into your bag. It would be easier to change in the car. You couldn’t risk waking anyone up.
You snuck out into the kitchen, quickly ducking behind the wall when you saw a trench coat laid over one of the chairs, it’s owner flipping through a book. Why can’t angels take naps? You tiptoed towards the entrance, making as little noise as possible.
“You won’t get far.” Cas scolded, not even looking up from his cookbook. You sighed heavily. Busted.
“I can’t stay.” You stepped into the kitchen, putting your bag on the table. “I’ve put them through enough. I have to do this alone.”
“You know what Dean would say?” Cas inquired. You hated when he tried to guilt trip you. “He would say,” the angel lowered his voice to impersonate your boyfriend, “‘You’re one of us. And none of us goes down alone.’ Don’t you want to be with the people who love you? With the man you love so much you sold your soul?” It was odd to hear him speak so emotionally. You could feel tears welling, but you forced them back. If you cried one more time, you’d scream.
“I got to see him one last time. I got to see those eyes bright with life again. I got to kiss him again.” He looked ready to rebuttal so you stopped him. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, Cas. I can’t make Sam watch that again. And Dean…” You sighed, “The only thing that would come from them being there when the bitch comes is more trauma for them to carry around.” You put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to understand. “Let their last memory of me be a good one.” Cas was silent for a moment.
“Alright.” You exhaled a breath of relief. You knew he would understand. Cas stood and grabbed his trench coat. “But I’m driving.” Your relief was replaced with frustration.
“Cas, no-”
“Spare the Winchesters if that’s really what you want. There may not be a way out of this, but you will not go alone.” He was using his angel voice and there was no fighting him on this one. With a huff, you conceded.
“Fine, but I am picking the music.”
-
9:34 A.M.
You’d kept your phone on silent, ignoring all of the calls you had anticipated. If you heard his voice, you would make Cas turn the car around. You did, however, try and read the avalanche of text messages you were receiving from both brothers.
Don’t do this.
You don’t have to face this on your own.
Please baby, answer the phone.
One of Sam’s messages in particular sent a pang of guilt through your heart.
Dean’s going nuts over here. We both are. Please just come home. If only to say goodbye.
“Regretting your decision?” Cas wondered gruffly. You shot him a look and turned on the radio. Cas changed the channel quickly as ‘Highway to Hell’ played, muttering that it was inappropriate given the circumstances. Instead, he found a station playing Night Ranger’s ‘Sister Christian’. You felt that ache in your chest come back.
“Now what?” Cas read your expression.
“Nothing, it’s just this song.” You had to laugh at how sentimental you were being. “Dean played it all the time when we first became a couple. He liked to joke that he was the ‘Mr. Right’ I’d been so desperately looking for.” The memory made you smile and you imagined being in the impala with Dean singing from the driver’s side.
“Motoring!” He would belt. “What’s your price for flight? You’ve got him in your sight. And driving through the night.” You would both sing the guitar part and laugh.
“Y/N… Y/N.” Cas broke you out of the memory, seeing the sadness in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized that he had stopped the car. “I figured you would want some coffee.” You looked out the window and saw the gas station he had parked in front of.
“You’re a saint, Cas,” You exclaimed, the grumbling in your stomach finally getting your attention. The angle looked very confused.
“Y/N, I can’t be a saint. I’m an angel.”
“It’s just an expression.” You laughed, opening the car door. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Cas knew that if you were anything like your boyfriend, you’d pursue the aisle for some pre-packaged junk food for a while before checking out. Which gave him about ten minutes to return a very angry call.
“Where are you? Is she with you? What the hell Cas?” Dean yelled into the receiver. Sam sat at the table, still trying to find you, but you must have turned the tracker on your phone off.
“She’s okay, Dean.”
“Bring her back. Now.”
“I can’t. She’ll run if she thinks I’m taking her to you.” Cas explained, keeping an eye on you as you moved through the candies. “We’re stopped at a gas station in Topeka.”
“Where are you headed?”
“She won’t say.” Cas sighed. “She just tells me what turns to make and what roads to follow. Although, she did mention something about ‘seeing the old place again’, whatever that means.” Cas watched you pay for your items and head for the exit. “I’ve got to go.”
“Cas, wait!” Dean said, but the line was already dead. “Damn it!” He tossed the phone across the table. Sam caught it before it could slide off.
“He wouldn’t tell you?”
“He doesn’t know!” The older Winchester exclaimed in frustration. “He said Y/N is just telling him as they go. The only clue she’s given him is ‘seeing the old place again.’”
“Did he say where they were stopped at least?”
“Some gas station in Topeka, so they could be heading anywhere.” Dean paced back and forth. He should have known you would pull something like this. You thought you were protecting him by facing this alone. Hell, you’d been doing it since you were a kid. Dean stopped suddenly.
“What is it?” Sam asked and his brother grabbed the keys to his car.
“I know where she’s going.”
-
2:14 P.M.
You hadn’t seen the house in about twenty years. Then, it was a family home- bikes left on the lawn, your mother’s tulips overtaking the garden, your terrible chalk drawings covering the driveway. Now, the wood was rotting and a tall chain link fence surrounded the premises.
“What are we doing here?” Cas wondered, turning off the truck as you hopped out. The bottle of anger liquid practically glowed in the afternoon sun. You took a swig.
“This, my friend, is where I grew up.” You surveyed the house and nodded. “And it’s where I want to die.” You tucked the bottle in your bag and climbed the fence, landing on the other side with a dramatic flare. Cas let out an exasperated sigh.
“What happened here?” He asked, reading all of the ‘Condemned Building’, ‘Do Not Enter’ signs. He followed you over the fence, clumsily tumbling onto the other side.
“When I was fifteen, my brother came home from college for the weekend. Only, it wasn’t my brother.” The old wounds didn’t hurt as much anymore, but being here again certainly made them sting a little. “It was a shifter. Now, my parents were hunters before they had us, so they figured out something was wrong…just not fast enough.” It all felt so far away now. “After he killed them, he came after me. Somehow, I got the upper hand and sent a silver kitchen knife through his heart. That’s how I started hunting.” Cas put a hand on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged sadly.
“It was a long time ago.” You were able to pick the lock on the front door, the smell of mold and dirt filling your nostrils. Home sweet home.
Somehow, the kitchen table was still standing and the sliding glass door leading to the back porch was intact. Your father always used to joke that it was bulletproof. The last time you were in this room, you stabbed a creature that looked like your big brother. And that was shockingly the least complicated your life had been in twenty years.
“Make yourself at home Cas. I’ve got about,” You looked down at your watch, “nine hours and forty minutes until I become a chew toy and I’m going to spend it reminiscing and getting very, very drunk.” Cas gave you a look of disdain. “Hey, I didn’t ask you to be here.”
“You are handling your impending damnation remarkably well.” He sat down in a creaky chair as you started to empty out your bag.
“I’m not going to spend my last few hours cowering in the corner, Cas.” You opened the small tin box that you had brought. “I can’t fight what’s going to happen to me. The most I can do is stay here, away from Sam and Dean, and wait.” You repeated it over and over in your head as if you could convince yourself. Every bone in your body wanted to fight. It’s just who you were. You survived. But now, you were staring down the gaping mouth of hell for the man who taught you to live.
-
4:36 P.M.
You may have had a three hour head start to St. Louis, but Cas couldn’t drive like Dean could. Both brothers continued their attempts to call you but it was still to now avail. It didn’t matter. They knew where to find you.
The exact address of your childhood home was not hard to find. Your parent’s deaths were well publicized so Sam just followed the trail of articles. Sure enough, Cas’ truck was parked in front of the condemned building.
“Why would she pick this place?” Sam asked, taking in the sad sight.
“This is where it all started for her.” Dean answered somberly. “It’s where she wants it to end.”
Inside, a half empty bottle of Jack sat beside the pile of photographs you had been looking through. You told Cas dozens of stories, some through laughter, some tears, and some both. With music playing from your phone, you didn’t hear the new set of footprints until the Winchesters were standing in front of you. You jumped up from the table, the alcohol in your system making you dizzy.
“You told them!” You cast an accusing glare at the angel beside you.
“This isn’t what you want.” He replied in a quiet voice. You turned your panicked face back to the brothers. Sam’s expression held a sad understanding, but you couldn’t read Dean’s. He stepped towards you.
“You have to leave.” You ordered, backing away as he got closer. “I don’t want you here for this. Get back in the impala and leave.” You backed into the corner and Dean towered over you. “Please, Dean.” His eyes searched yours and knew. He pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
You didn’t fight him. You let him hold onto you as your body started to shake. It was another one of your selfish reasons for leaving. If he wasn’t here, if you couldn’t look at his face, you could pretend that you weren’t scared. Now he was here and all of that tough-girl bullcrap was gone.
“I’m right here baby.” He kissed your forehead, taking all of your stress and putting it on his shoulders. You would carry this together.
“Why did you leave?” Sam asked gently. You turned, Dean keeping his arms around you from behind.
“Because you shouldn’t have to see this, Sam. You watched it happen to your brother, I couldn’t make you watch it again. Neither of you should be put through this.” Dean lightly kissed your shoulder.
“You can’t do this alone.” He whispered.
“I had Cas.” You smirked. The three of you laughed, Cas even cracking a smile.
“Why don’t I go to a restaurant with quick service and get food?” Cas suggested.
“Fast food. It’s called fast food.” Dean snickered into your shoulder. You elbowed him.
“That would be great.”
The sound of a clock chiming startled all of you, Dean instinctively pushing you behind him. Sam sighed.
“It’s okay, It’s only five.” You were all so on edge that it felt later. The clock echoed still, connecting a memory in your mind.
“No way.” You broke away from Dean and found the living room. You must not have heard it earlier because of the music. Sure enough, the gigantic Grandfather clock was still ticking. “I can’t believe it still works.” You mused, running your fingers over the dust covered glass. “My dad loved this thing. He never let us play around it because he was scared that my brother and I would break it.” By some cruel irony, it lasted longer than he did.
-
10:29 P.M.
With stomachs full of fries and mediocre burgers, you had climbed up onto the roof- which was surprisingly still sturdy- to look at the stars. Five hours passed in a blink and you were all getting anxious. Sam and Cas were inside, giving you and Dean time alone.
“I want you to have this.” You began, talking over the music playing from your phone. You handed him the small tin that you kept all your pictures in. Dean raised a brow and you playfully rolled your eyes. “And no, there’s no playboy material in there so you can wipe that smirk off your face.” Dean chuckled and draped around your shoulders to pull you closer.
He opened the box and spilled the contents into his lap. The first image made him laugh. It was of you and Sam, fast asleep on a motel sofa, your head on his shoulder and half of his body dangling over the arm of the couch. Someone- aka Dean- had drawn mustaches on your faces.
“I forgot about this.” Dean put each photo back in the box as he looked at them. Some were from when you were a kid, but most were from your time with them. He paused at one in particular. It was of you hugging him from behind as he worked under the hood of the impala, both of you laughing at something he had said. You were at Bobby’s. Ellen had taken it.
“Damn,” Dean muttered, putting the picture on top of the others. You knew what he was thinking. He’d lost so many people. His parents, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, and countless others. Now he would have to add you to the list.
“When it comes, I’ll need to borrow your gun.” You said suddenly. He gave you a strange look, taking a second to understand. “I figured it would be a better way to go than becoming dog food.” Dean winced. This was not a subject he wanted to address. A part of him still had hope.
“Maybe there’s still a way.”
“Dean,” You sighed, “there would need to be an act of God or the gates of hell closing.” You had a little less than an hour now. Dean’s eyes lit up and he shifted to face you.
“That’s it. That’s how we can fight this.”
“Dean, what are you talking about?”
“When Sam was completing the trails, he was able to kill a hellhound with an angel blade. We can kill it.” His voice had a new sense of determination.
“Dean, there would just be more.” You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.
“So we kill them!” He said it as if it was simple. “It’ll at least buy us more time to undo the deal.”
“Dean…” You looked at him like he was crazy, but the new found hope on his face made it impossible to rebuke.
“It’ll work.” He said, more to himself than to you. “It has to work.” You both fell silent, listening to the music. You almost laughed. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’. You sang along in your head.
“And it’s whispered that soon, if we call the tune then the piper will lead us to reason. And a new day will dawn for those who stand long and the forests will echo with laughter.”
Surely, somebody up there was laughing. Whoever God was, he sure had a twisted sense of humor.
-
11:57 P.M.
“We need to get inside.” Dean announced, grabbing the tin and putting it in his jacket pocket. “It’ll be easier to corner the bitch so we can kill it.”
You both climbed down into the back yard. Sam and Cas were waiting, already filled in on the plan. Neither were overly confident, but if there was a chance, they were willing to try.
“You ready?” Sam asked. You gulped and gave the three of them a solemn nod. Each man filed inside, weapons at the ready. As soon as Dean was in, you slid the glass door shut, jamming a metal bar in between the door and the wall.
“Y/N!” Dean yelled, trying to force it open. “Y/N, what are you doing?” The door wouldn’t budge. “Let me out!”
You put your hand against the glass, palm splayed out where Dean’s fist pounded. You gave him a small, sad smile.
“It’s okay.” You mouthed. His hand flattened against yours. “It’s going to be okay.” You exchanged a glance with Sam and he gave you a wordless promise. He would make sure his brother would get through this. You locked your eyes with Dean’s. You never got tired of those emerald irises. Knowing that you put the life back in those perfect green eyes would give you enough courage to face what came next.
You closed your eyes, feeling a lone tear slide down your cheek.
12:00 A.M.
This time, the clock’s chiming didn’t make you jump. The howl did. Both Sam and Dean were desperately trying to get the door open, but Cas knew that this was what you wanted. He turned away.
“Damn it, Y/N! Open the door!” Dean shouted again, hitting the glass as hard as he could. You spoke just loud enough for them to hear you.
“I love you.” You opened your eyes only to find the heartbreak in his. “I love all of you.” You cried out as a set of claws dug deeply into your calf, yanking you backwards onto the concrete.
“No!” Dean screamed. He pulled so hard that the handle of the door snapped off. Sam was frozen now, neither brother able to tear their eyes away.
You tried to hold back your screams, but it was useless. The hellhound flipped you onto your back, claws ripping through your shoulder like paper. Your shrieks were loud enough to fill the kitchen.
“Baby, please.” Dean cried, his efforts in trying to break the glass merely giving him bruises. He was forced to watch the invisible beast create claw marks along your arms and chest. He felt every tear as if it were happening to him all over again. A pool of blood started to pour out beneath you.
Your most agonizing scream came when you felt the dog’s jaws clamp around your side. You looked up at the men above you. Dean’s face was stained with tears, as was his brother’s. They both looked so anguished, so shattered. So you remembered last night. You remembered their laughing faces and off-key singing. You remembered Sam’s comforting embrace and his knowing smile. You remembered the taste of Dean’s lips and the feeling of his body tangled with yours. You remembered their eyes in the sunset, sparkling and alive. And you smiled. Your boys.
“Y/N! No!” Dean screamed in horror as a chunk of your flesh was violently torn away. You stopped moving. “Y/N!” The last toll of the clock echoed throughout the entire house and the old Grandfather clock stopped ticking.
Sam pushed his brother to the side and fired his gun at the glass until it shattered. Dean bolted through, not caring if he got cut. The hound was gone, leaving only carnage in its wake. He fell to his knees.
“Y/N?” His voice was quiet now, hoarse from screaming. Your eyes stared blankly up at the stars, blood splattered across your face. He cradled your head in his hand. “Don’t do this to be, baby. Don’t do this to me.” He pulled you into his lap. “Come on sweetheart, don’t make me lose you too. Please.”
Sam’s chest tightened, watching his brother break down. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Dean cry this hard. Cas had vanished, so it was just the two of them now. After a moment, Sam let out a heavy sigh.
“Why don’t you head out the car? I’ll clean up.”
“No.” Dean growled, head jerking up to look at him. “I have to do this.” Dean straightened and he scooped your body up into his arms. Blood rushed down his clothes like rain, seeping through to his skin. It would stain him for the rest of his life. He pressed a kiss to your forehead one last time and gently closed your eyes.
And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven.
-
Tuesday 8:33 A.M.
The ride back to the bunker was silent. Even when they got back, Sam knew better than to say anything. Dean went to take a shower, shoving the small tin to the back of his drawer. Sam poured himself a drink. He looked out on an empty library and lifted his glass, as if he were toasting you.
Dean turned the water to a scalding temperature, feeling it burn as it rinsed off the sticky crimson liquid that covered his chest and arms. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your smile going blank as the hellhound tore away your skin. And all he could hear was that stupid clock. Before he even realized it, his hand punched the tiled wall over and over again until it cracked, his knuckles splitting open and oozing blood. He didn’t even feel it. He didn’t feel anything.
-
It was dark, but you could still see the blade hanging above you, glistening menacingly. Spiked restraints pierced your wrists, holding you down on the table.
“Sam? Cas? Anybody!” You cried. There was no hiding the terror in your voice. The saw screeched to life and slowly lowered down towards you. “Help me! Somebody please!” You struggled, only making the spikes dig further into your skin. There was no escaping this. Your screams filled the darkness. “Dean!”
-
General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado
Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone
The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime
#gore warning#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester#castiel#supernatural imagines#winchester takeover#october#jensen ackles#Jared Padalecki#to be continued?
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just the start chapter one
summary: It’s such a sweet beginning and such a horrible end. Before you die for someone, you have to love them with your very being. You have to see just how much this world needs them despite their doubts and you have to be happy up until the very end. If not for you then for them.
a/n: I give to thee part one of the just a scratch prequel. This is a series that I will most likely very slowly update because tgt has my full attention and this is all I have for it so far. Please tell me your thoughts on it and as always thank you @medeliadracon
word count: 3k
Your kids are going to be the death of you. It was meant to be an easy, minimum stress day where you handed the kids a test you’d been helping them study for over two weeks. Afterward, it was a lesson on the creation of the Earth Kingdom and its early history, but ten-year-olds never like to make things easy on you. You caught three of your students trying to cheat off of one another and two forgot to bring pencils to school. Someone tried to feign illness to get out of it, which led three others to try their luck as well.
Another one of your students decided to continuously interrupt what was meant to be a painless fifteen-minute lesson into a thirty-minute lesson that had everyone groaning in their seats towards the ends. You did not get paid enough for this.
You may have been a bit harsh by assigning them more homework than normal and it would come back to bite you in the ass when it came time to grade them. The problem is that if you yell at them or call them assholes you’ll lose your job so instead you decide to punish them with more work and you finally leave the classroom with a tense demeanor and a need to see your favorite person.
You usually don’t let work get to you like this, you're known as the sweet teacher that everyone adores so on the days when you snap or hand out extra work your students know they messed up big time. But last night you may have lost track of time as you read a new book you had purchased the day before.
You couldn’t help how it sucked you in and locked you inside its pages until late into the evening, so you woke up late with the book lying flat against your chest and your head laid in a weird angle on the arm of your couch. You weren’t able to eat any breakfast as you ran to school with half of your shirt untucked and your hair messily pinned back.
It’s early evening now and you know she will most likely stay late at the office so you decide to bring her some of her favorite food from a fire nation food cart. By now the owner knows you by name and happily whips up the usual as you tighten your coat around you. Summer is slowly saying goodbye and in its wake autumn is bringing a chill as the sun goes down. Soon enough it’ll be the best kind of weather to cozy up inside with a mug of tea and a novel.
You’re suddenly thankful for your outfit choice, a pair of dark brown loose slacks that button at your waist with a white long-sleeved blouse tucked into the waistband. You do regret the pair of burnt orange heels you paired with the outfit, school required women to wear them which you felt was incredibly wrong with being on your feet for the majority of the day.
Usually, you’d pack a pair of flats to change into but this morning you forgot it along with your scarf. So as your feet ache you decide to strike up a conversation with one of your favorite people.
“How are you doing today?” Kaito, the food cart owner is a sweet old man who you’ve been coming to way before you met Lin. It’s only a block away from the school so when you first started working there you’d rush out during lunch to get something to eat in hopes that food would calm you down.
“I’m doing okay, although I must say the local gossip has kept me entertained today,” he places the boxes of your food into a paper bag as you hand him the yuans for the meals. You quirk a brow with an amused smile and ask “and what is the gossip today?”
“The Avatar has come to Republic City!”
“Wow, are you sure about that?” You grab the bag of food from the cart and wait for his reply before leaving.
“Well, my buddy told me, said he witnessed it himself and I believe him.”
“I’m putting my trust in you Kaito. If that’s a lie I’ll be very sad,” you say teasingly before taking a step back to walk away. He calls after you, claiming he’d never lie and while you know he’s telling the truth you still decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him over your shoulder. “Have a nice night!”
Those around whom don’t know you, which is everyone except for Kaito, watch in bewilderment at the thirty-nine years old woman who acts like a child towards the elderly cart owner.
That little encounter helped ease your nerves a bit as you walked towards the police station, cars zoomed past as the streetlights flickered on to illuminate the streets. Lin had been talking to you about needing a mode of transportation, she hated you walking everywhere for fear of getting mugged, but you enjoyed walking. It gave you time to look back on your day and think about what needs to be done before your head hits the pillow.
Some overpriced car will slash that time in half and with it your moment of silence. That being said it would be nice on your feet and back. You jog up the long stone steps in front of the precinct, a few officers are filing out for the night, all of which have slowly pieced together who you are.
They throw smiles your way as you hold the door open for them before walking inside. Ishi, the lady who runs the front desk smiles as she watches you walk past with the bag of food in hand. Everyone here likes you, which is no surprise, especially since anytime you visit Lin is left in a good mood for the rest of the day.
Phones are ringing as you walk through the main office where desks are lined up, a couple of the detectives and rookies offer a hello in between flipping through pages of paperwork or dialing the phone. Without knocking, because at this point you know it’ll just result in Lin yelling, you open the door to her office.
You find her hunched over her desk with her glasses resting at the tip of her nose. She’s got papers scattered across the desk with her chin resting in her hands. At the sound of the door opening, she glances up and lets out a sigh of relief at seeing you instead of some officer.
“Thought I’d bring you an early dinner and hopefully rip you away from your work for at least a few minutes,” you say as you set the bag down on the desk. She pushes away from the desk and, taking off her glasses, collects the mess of papers to help prep the desk for the meal.
“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” She asks you this as she moves past you to put the stack of papers on the couch. You shrug and begin to pull out the containers of Komodo sausage and spicy fire noodles. “I wanted to, besides I know you probably skipped lunch.”
At the site of the containers from Kaito’s Lin shakes her head with a smile. “You know, one of these days I’m going to make you eat something other than Kaito’s food.”
“Hey!” You look up with a playful scowl, chopsticks in hand. “I eat my own food and that meal you made me.”
She rolls her eyes and comes up to pull you into a brief kiss, you smile as her lips touch yours and lean closer to her. Any ounce of stress left from your workday vanishes just as it always does when it comes to Lin.
“Fine,” she says, her lips gently brushing against yours, she’s smiling too. “I’m going to make you eat something other than our home-cooked meals and Kaito’s.”
“Never,” you whisper before pecking her on the lips. You pull yourself away from her, truly you want to stay in her arms and kiss her until you're breathless but you know she needs to eat. Plus you don’t want this food to get cold. “Now c’mon, eat up and tell me about your day.”
You hand Lin her chopsticks as you sit down on the leather chair opposite her desk, she rolls her desk chair to sit beside you and picks up her container of sausages and pours them over the noodles. With your legs crossed over one another your foot brushes against her leg as you do the same. This is a routine picked up long ago, just at the start of your relationship actually.
Most days you’d come here for dinner or drag her out of the office to eat at your apartment. She was grateful for your care, to be honest at first she tried to push you away, to keep you at arm's length, but she couldn’t. Lin gave up within two days of knowing you and has ever since been enraptured by your mere presence.
“It was…” Lin sighs, “the Avatar has come to town and destroyed public and private property along with interfering with Republic City Police business. I’ve been neck-deep in paperwork ever since Tenzin came to bail her out.” She stabs her chopsticks into her noodles with a scowl and swirls them around to gather a bunch of noodles around them.
“I heard about her coming to town but I didn’t know she did all of that.”
“Yeah, and she tried to tell me how to do my job!” Setting your container down you reach over to rub your hand up her arm in a soothing manner. You tend to let off steam by reading or spending time with others whilst Lin bottled it up and let it twist into something akin to resentment.
Thankfully she recently started opening up to you and somehow she was surprised by the fact that you actually listened to her. “She’s some privileged teenager who knows nothing about this city or the law, and she tried to tell me how to do my job.”
“Lin you have to think about what you were like as a teenager. What she did was wrong, but they tend to be a bit entitled at times. Once she finds out how much you really love this city she’ll take it back and respect you.”
“Well, thankfully she won’t have to because Tenzin said he’d take her back to the South Pole.”
You roll your eyes at the mention of Tenzin, not being able to help yourself. You are a nice person, really you are and you try not to let people get to you but fuck does that Airbender get on your nerves. When he found out Lin was dating someone, a woman on top of that, he freaked out and somehow tried to make it about him.
When Lin said she happened to like men and women he stood with his mouth open in confusion. You know how hard that was for her to say. You were the second woman she had ever been with, the first some one-night stand she had met some years ago in a smoky bar. But you were the first woman she had ever dated and for her to finally admit it was a big step. You had stood there with her hand in yours as you tried to silently support her.
He shut up when she said she loved you. She hadn’t told him until a month ago so your irritation was still warranted, but you knew it was probably time to get over it. It just upset you that he expected her to spend the rest of her days alone while he happily creates as many airbenders as he can with the woman he cheated on her with. Due to him, Lin still held back to some degree regarding your relationship, which you understood and didn’t hold it against her. But you did hold it against him.
“C’mon, I know you hate him and I definitely don’t like him but at least he’s getting rid of her.” Lin sets her container down to thread her fingers through yours. You nod and gently squeeze her hand twice, a little thing you came up with a month ago. She squeezes back twice and you smile, she smiles back.
“You’re right, at least he’s doing one good thing.” Lin can’t help but laugh at that, she slowly lets go of your hand so you both can go back to eating. For a while, it’s comfortably silent as you both chow down. Lin didn’t realize how hungry she was until the delicious scent of Kaito’s cooking wafted through the air.
You’ve been happily in a relationship for almost a year, with your anniversary just days away it makes Lin wonder what these kinds of days were like before you. She can’t seem to remember, all the memories of this office that she can conjure up involve you in some way.
Lin already made sure to have time off for that day, she scheduled herself to leave early and has even been scoping out the best restaurants and jazz clubs in the area. She’s surprised herself with how much effort she’s putting into planning this. To be fair Lin Beifong never does something half-assed but even when she was with Tenzin their anniversaries were a bit simple, and she let him plan them.
“By the way can you be ready by six on Saturday for me?” You bite your lip with furrowed brows as you try to think up what's happening Saturday. With your muddled brain, it takes a few seconds for you to remember your anniversary, which is surprising seeing as you wrote it down in your calendar two months into your relationship. You even found a present for her last month.
“Hmm,” you tap your chin as you try to fight off a smile. “I don’t know, what’s Saturday?” You quirk a brow and Lin knows you’re teasing her by the look on your face.
“You know what’s Saturday.” She stares you down with an exasperated expression and sets her empty container on the desk. Biting your lip you try to continue playing dumb “I don’t think I do, can you help jog my memory?”
Your chair is close enough to hers that she can easily grab onto it and pull it until your knees are touching. In a swift motion that you could definitely never succeed at doing on your own, Lin grabs you by the hips and pulls you off your chair until you're straddling her lap. The last of your noodles go flying to the floor, not that either of you notices, as you let out a shriek of surprise.
“What happened a year ago on Saturday?”
“Y’know I think I rearranged my bookshelf that day, it was life-changing if I’m-” You begin to laugh as she scowls, “being honest.”
“You’re impossible,” she huffs. You lean down to peck her lips, your free hand going to cradle her scarred cheek. She leans forward to kiss you back but you teasingly pull away and watch as she chases after your lips.
“Hmm, did I go on a date with someone almost a year ago?”
“Y’know what I am perfectly fine going back to being single.” Lies, she doesn’t know how she’d cope without you in her life. You’ve added color back into her world and reminded her what it feels like to be happy, to feel loved and secure. It terrifies her if she’s being honest. Everyone she’s ever loved has disappointed her, she doesn’t know what she’ll do if you end up leaving her too.
“Okay, okay! Yes, I know what Saturday is.” You reach behind you to place your container on the desk, it falls onto its side due to the awkward angle but you’ll just clean it up later. Now with both hands-free, you gently cradle her face between them. Lin’s hands rest on the curve of your hips. “What kind of outfit should I wear? Something elegant or something you can easily take off?”
“Why not both?” She says with a smirk. Lin pulls you into another kiss, this one is slow and less innocent than the others. Her lips slant against yours as she pulls you closer by your hips.
You kiss her back at the same, slow pace, neither of you pushes further than the kiss. For a few minutes, you both lazily kiss one another, you missed her. Yesterday was so hectic that all you could do was call her when you finally finished grading some papers.
Reluctantly you pull away, you’re all for going further, but just not this second. You want to keep teasing her, you just can’t help it. Lin doesn’t hate your playful side, if anything she adores it which surprised quite a few people. You were this cheery woman with a bounce in your step who looked at Lin like she hung the moon.
Grumpy, bitter Lin, or so she thought. In your eyes she was amazing, she had a dry sense of humor that caught many by surprise, and she was so incredibly gentle with you. Before you even started dating she let you hold her hand or pull her into a hug, even if she did grumble about it at first.
She wouldn’t tell you then, but she secretly loved how you kept coming back despite her trying to pretend like she wasn’t totally head over heels for you. It made her feel desired and important.
“Now you’re just being greedy.”
Lin shakes her head at your words, her eyes locking in with yours once more. “I can show you greedy.”
You slowly move your hands from her cheeks to softly scratch her scalp, she lets out a relaxed sigh at your ministrations. You smile as you move them further back, her usual simple hairstyle is messed up in the process, but she doesn’t mind. It’s easy to fix.
“I’d like to see that.” You know you’ve egged her on, challenged her, and she does not back down from a challenge. Perhaps you could help relieve some of her stress on the couch before dragging her out of the office for the night.
The idea of teasing her and dragging this out flees from your mind as Lin pulls you into a heated kiss. You can’t help but think when she slips her tongue into your mouth, this woman will be the death of me.
#lin beifong#lin beifong x reader#lin beifong/reader#lin beifong fanfiction#fanifc#lok fanfic#legend of korra#lok#just the start#jts
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give us a random headcanon go 👀
UHM OK
So
This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-
Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.
Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.
Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.
When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.
When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”
They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.
Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.
“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”
“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”
Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”
Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”
“You look just like him.”
“What was he like?”
Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”
Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”
Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”
Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”
“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”
On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.
“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”
And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.
He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”
When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”
Which. Mark obeys.
Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.
Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.
“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”
“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”
Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”
Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”
“The fuck did you do to me?”
“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”
“You WHAT.”
“Three times.”
They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.
In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.
Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.
Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”
Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.
“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.
The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.
He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.
“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”
“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”
“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”
“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”
“So... are you... like...?”
Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”
“I think I’m straight.”
Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”
Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”
“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”
Which brings me to my next point
Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.
He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..
“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”
“But what if-“
“No.”
That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”
“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”
“How do I like... do that?”
Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“
“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”
Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”
Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺
#yes I own that pikachu doll shut up#and yes it was worth every penny#axel cluney#axel cluney angst#axel cluney fluff#axel cluney imagine#axel cluney deadpool two#axel cluney deadpool 2#deadpool two#deadpool two angst#deadpool two fluff#deadpool two imagine#deadpool 2#deadpool 2 fluff#deadpool 2 angst#deadpool 2 imagine#mark#mark assassination nation#mark fluff#mark angst#mark imagine#assassination nation fluff#assassination nation angst#assassination nation imagine#axel cluney x mark#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard angst#bill skarsgard imagine#bill skarsgard fluff#bill skarsgård
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Text
Not My Family
requested by: anon
“can you write shelby sis ( #105 & #113 angst list and #21 fluff list) being quite the troublemaker recently so everyone is upset with her and she tells the family that there's someone following her often but they don't believe her and just send her away. she gets attacked quite badly and stays with johnny dogs in his caravan (and he doesn't tell the family cause he's upset too) and when they see her again she doesn't want to talk to them cause they let her down? you can decide the end :)”
angst #105 “I thought you cared about me. someone who cares about someone else doesn’t let them down like you just did.” and #113 “I can’t look at you anymore.”
fluff #21 “I need a hug.”
pairing: shelby!reader x john shelby, shelby!reader x arthur shelby, shelby!reader x tommy shelby (no incest)
summary: once your brother told you that you had a family that would never let anything bad happen to you. when you grew up, you understood that thomas shelby was a motherfucking liar.
word count: 1, 239
warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of aggression and abuse, the word “fuck” is used a lot in here.
author’s note: I wanted this oneshot to be awesome because I loved the prompt, I really did!!! thank you for requesting this, thank you! and also thanks to my best friend who’s helping me every day with my writing. love you, boo.
“I told them”, your voice was full of pain and resentment. “I told them there was someone following me, but they didn’t listen. They never listen to me”, you hissed under your heavy breath.
“I think you may have some broken ribs, Y/N. I should take you to a hospital”, Johnny said, clearly worried. You denied.
“If I go to the hospital, people will see. People will talk and they will come, I don’t wanna see those bastards right now. I don’t know if I want to see them ever again, to be honest”, you tried to look strong but it was difficult. Really difficult.
Everything was hurting; your legs, your torso, your head. You could still feel the warmth of the blood running through your hair, there’s probably a concussion. You felt off, you felt sad, but mostly, you felt angry.
“You could die”, he tried but were instantly interrupted by you.
“If it’s my time to die, so be it”, now your voice was lower, cracking a bit. “Thank you for taking care of me, Johnny.”
“Someone has to.”
***
Days passed by and you were getting better. Physically, at least; mentally, you were only getting sadder. Every day you would close your eyes and suddenly you were back at that night, being spanked, touched in ways that made you throw up just for thinking about.
Every day you would remember how you told your brothers countless times that someone was following, watching you. Every day you remembered they didn’t listen.
Your heart ached every time you thought about it.
“No one will ever hurt you, Y/N”, that’s what Tommy said when you were younger. “There are bad people that will try, but there’s us, your family, that won’t let them.”
Fucking liar.
“Y/N”, Johnny greeted as entering the caravan. “‘Was with the boys today, they’re convinced that you’re dead”, he told and you opened a wicked smile.
“Did you tell them?”
“Of course not. I think they deserve to think that for a while, at least until you get better”, he explained. “How’s your head today, by the way?”
“Still hurts a little, but it’s fine”, you tranquilized. “I guess I won’t be coming back home after. Maybe I should go to America, what do you think?”
He never had the chance to respond, because in a split second, Tommy was there.
***
“What the hell, Y/N?”, Arthur screamed as soon as he entered Tommy’s house. You were sitting on the sofa, eyes on your hands. “We fucking thought you were dead! Fucking dead!”
“Well, I almost was!”, you screamed back, standing up to impose yourself but regretting it when you felt dizzy because of the agonizing pain. You sat again, but added: “And that’s on you, all of you! Fucking bastards!”
“How is that our fault? We didn’t put a fucking gun in your head and told you to stay in the fucking caravan instead of going to the bloody hospital!”, now John was screaming.
Tommy, of course, didn’t say a word.
Maybe he didn’t care enough to do so.
“You put a gun in my head when I told you what was happening and you decided to ignore it. That’s what you did, you fucking ignored me!”
“I’m sorry if you’re always lying and fucking around, none of us could possibly imagine that you were being serious”, his voice was filled with irony and anger.
“I was being dead serious, John, don’t put it on me.”
You were exhausted, your hands were shaking and you felt like throwing up again. You did throw up every single day since the unfortunate event happened. Soon there were tears running down your cheeks and you hugged yourself, feeling alone.
“I thought you cared about me. Someone who cares about someone else doesn’t let them down like you did”, you cried out. The room was now in silence, the only sound you could hear was your own sobs.
Arthur was the first one to approach; he kneeled in front of you and tried to hold your hand, but you didn’t accept the gesture.
“Y/N...”, he hesitated. You knew he regretted everything, but it was too late now. “Look at me.”
“I’m sorry”, they could hear your hurt in your voice. “I can’t look at you anymore.”
A thunderous noise made you jump in your place and you looked up to see John, his face red, throwing everything off a table.
“Fuck!”, he yelled.
Tommy seemed tired of everything that was happening and that’s what hurt you the most. He stood up and walked in your direction, saying in a bittersweet tone: “We’re your family, we need each other. You can’t be mad with us forever.”
“You’re not my fucking family”, you spat. “Once you told me my family would never let anything bad happen to me, remember?”
“If we’re not your fucking family”, he sounded so cold, principally when added: “Go home. And only come back when you change your mind.”
You stood up again, ignoring the pain you felt and looking into his eyes while saying: “Fuck off, Thomas Shelby.”
***
You were incredibly drunk.
You knew you should keep alcohol away for a while, but you needed to forget what happened that afternoon. Fucking Shelbys.
Normally you’d be listening to some music, but your head still hurt a lot, so you decided not to.
That was it.
Your new life; you and whiskey.
“Fucking good life”, you said to yourself, laughing out loud. “Who needs family, eh?”
You swear you could hear a knock on your door but ignored it while looking at yourself in the mirror. The whiskey’s bottle in your hand, the messy hair, the purple marks on your face, arms, and legs.
“Fucking family”, you muttered again.
Knock, knock.
“For fuck's sake”, you walked to the door and opened it to see John and Arthur, looking lost and guilty as fuck. You groaned, “What are you doing here? Get lost!”
“We’re here to apologize”, John murmured.
“What is that now?”, your voice was bitter.
“We don’t agree with Thomas and... we decided to come here and apologize, Y/N. Properly”, it was Arthur’s time to speak. You could see their eyes examining your bruises.
“Come in”, you muttered, lying on the sofa.
Arthur closed the door and soon enough they were sitting on the same sofa as you; John on your right, Arthur on your left.
“We did this to you”, John started while Arthur nodded in agreement. “We didn’t listen to you and we’re really sorry. I only wish we could go back in time and...”
“Cut the bullshit”, you blurted. “There’s no going back, John. Let’s stick with the present, shall we?”, you didn’t notice, but you were crying again. Maybe the alcohol had cut off your control over your body.
“Fuck, Y/N...”, Arthur hissed.
“Please, forgive us. I’ll ask some man to guard your front door and if you need anything, anytime, you can call me and I’ll be there. I promise”, John seemed like he was going to fall apart.
You were his little sister, he couldn’t forgive himself.
“We promise!”, Arthur corrected. “What can we do for you? Just tell us. Anything. If you want me to go to Tommy’s and beat his ass I swear to God I’ll-”
A little, soft smile appeared on your face amongst the tears.
“I just need a hug, boys.”
-------------
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#blue writes#john shelby#arthur shelby#thomas shelby#peaky blinders#sister!reader#shelby!reader#arthur shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#john shelby x reader#shelby brothers#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby oneshot#thomas shelby x sister!reader#john shelby x sister!reader#arthur shelby x sister!reader#fanfic#oneshot#drabble#imagine#headcanons#prompts
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