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#we only want to help you!! never mind that WE are the ones who hurt YOU''
dokries · 2 days
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pairing: lee jihoon x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff
word count: 733
warnings: mentions of food, jihoon is said to be a barbie BECAUSE IT’S TRUE, passing remark about “killing” (as in it hurts to just sit and watch)
author note: in true @woozivrse fashion, this is unnamed. this was a birthday gift for them! we miss you blond long hair woozi 😞
masterlist
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you sit slumped on the couch of your second home, your phone tossed to the side to watch your boyfriend work. jihoon, too engrossed in his music as usual, doesn’t notice your eyes on him from the corner of his studio.
soonyoung had ordered…whatever tigers eat, and was waiting outside for the delivery person to arrive after he saw that they were a minute away. this left you utterly bored, the hyperactive man being the only thing more entertaining than your phone–of course your boyfriend is as well, but he had been glued to his computer ever since you and soonyoung had crashed his studio earlier.
your eyes drift from jihoon’s hands moving on his keyboard, probably writing lyrics that suddenly pop into his head, to the back of his ears, reminding you of his vampire-like complexion. the boys had somehow convinced him to go to italy with them–read: forced him to go, with soonyoung and vernon apologizing for taking him from you for a week over the phone before they got on their flight. you could thank them for finally dragging him outside; your man needs more vitamin d.
however, your eyes linger on his newly dyed hair, tucked back from his face, the length already to his shoulders. you had laughed when hoshi said jihoon was your very own barbie, but thinking back on it, you realize he’s right. your little rice ball is multi-talented, and blond! literally barbie.
you need to braid his hair. it’s the only thing in your mind, and it’s killing you to just watch him.
you sigh, catching the attention of the man who plagues your thoughts way too often.
“oh, did young-ah leave to go get the food he ordered?” jihoon asks, turning his chair around to look at you, his brows still furrowed from looking at the big screen in front of him for the past few hours.
you nod before looking longingly at his hair, hoping he’ll notice your gaze.
nope.
he just looks at you questionably, causing you to sigh again. okay, maybe you just needed to be more direct.
“i–”
“do–”
you both start speaking over each other, and share a small smile before you gesture for jihoon to talk first.
he clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning red. “do you…do you want to braid my hair?”
his hesitancy makes your jaw drop open. your mind is filled with only two thoughts. one: he's so cute. two: what can’t your man do? is he a mind reader??
(when you ask him later, he says that soonyoung had brought up that you wanted to braid his hair when it’s longer a few months ago. that sneaky little–)
regaining your composure, you nod quietly, still in shock that jihoon of all people had suggested you braid his hair first.
you gesture for him to move to the space right under your spot on the couch, and as he walks over, you can’t help but feel giddy inside.
when he sits down and is comfortable, you stare at the back of his head, unsure of where to start. you’ve never braided your boyfriend’s hair before, so maybe just a simple braid would suffice…for now.
you separate jihoon’s hair into three sections and take them gently, slowly braiding it to make sure he’s not uncomfortable.
the soft sounds of both of your breathing is the only noise in the room as you finish, trying to include the entire length to compensate for the lack of a hair tie.
you pat jihoon’s head once before giggling to yourself and taking a picture of your handiwork to show him. you tell him to turn around, and hand your phone to him with eager eyes, tucking jihoon’s bangs behind his ears as he gives you a soft smile, and a nod of approval.
“this looks great,” jihoon says before placing a shy peck on your cheek, his own turning red.
“HEY GUYS, I THINK THE DELIVERY PERSON WAS FLIRTING WITH ME?? THEY ASKED TO CONFIRM MY NUMBER—” soonyoung starts, slamming the door open with the takeout container of his favorite chicken place in his hands before looking down at the two of you smiling at each other. “oh you guys are being lovey-dovey again. i’ll see myself out…nice hangout guys!” he winks before closing the door, leaving you and jihoon both red in the face.
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demieyesore · 3 days
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Sex and Feelings - Sam Monroe
Summary - Sam and you got into a heated argument that ended in tears and sex.
Warnings / Mentions - Fem!Reader, Insecure!Sam, mentions of drugs and other mental health issues, pet names used are baby, angel, and pretty girl/sweet girl, hurt comfort, small angst, makeup sex, sad sex, dacryphilia, both Sam and Reader are crying, oral (f receiving), Sam cums untouched, praise, Sam licks Reader's tears, creampie, squirting, NOT PROOF READ; SO PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S ANY MISTAKESSSS
A/N - I know I usually write GN!Reader, but I wanted to use certain affectionate terms like "pretty girl" and I haven't been able to think of a gender-neutral way yet...maybe just "pretty baby" or "pretty doll" Idk, send help fr...Also, does anyone have any idea how to avoid using Y/N in dialogue?
Requested - Yessir, right here
Word Count - 2197
Tag List - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely
@yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet @heartsforanakin @helendeath @ysrjune
@anisangeldust @catnipaddictt @ahano @itachicha @02ibiskywitt05
@espinathena-17 @lvrfay3
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Gif by @sukugo
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Tears flooded your eyes, and your senses went wild from the way your boyfriend was talking about himself and your relationship. Sam, your sweet yet devilish boyfriend, was pleading for you to break up with him.
"Sam, I just don't understand. I don't want to break up!" You tried over and over to reach out to him, but he only kept pulling away. His thoughts and mind are elsewhere. Sam had a hazy look in his eyes, one of fear and loneliness.
"Y/n, stop making this harder than it needs to be. I'm not good for you, and you fuckin' know it." Sam's exclamation caught you off guard. The aggressive use of language at the end makes you glow with anger. Your emotions are mixing in a pot, like ingredients. Some anger here, some fear there, some dread, and the final being your undying care for him.
"You can't possibly mean that! Sam, for the love of God, you are everything to me! I mean, yes, we all have our flaws, but I don't care!" Your voice echoed in the room. You had come over to his house in order to check in on him, wanting to hang out and watch a movie, only to see him getting high. Not the usual joint high, not pills, but he was in the middle of hanging himself in his closet when you walked into his room.
"Oh, fuck off; you don't mean that. You know just how bad I am for you; you just don't want to admit it. You never do!" He yelled at the end; you could tell he was starting to get emotional. As much as Sam loved you, he always struggled to believe that you actually liked him. It wasn't even fathomable for you to be in love with him.
It was like he was shutting down on you, but you didn't want to give him up. "Sammy, please...how do-- How do I fix this?" You took a deep breath, your nose sniffling from the stress on your mind and body. Sam was silently crying, his face contorting into one of pain. "You can't; you just can't! You can't do anything about it; you're not the one who needs fixing!" He seethes, pacing around his messy room as he tries to sort out his thoughts.
He's such a mess. He's wearing a band tee, one that he cut the sleeves off of to create a make shift tank top. A studded belt with a pair of black jeans. A leather bracelet cuff was on his right wrist, while the bracelet you made for him hung around his left. Sam was messing with the bracelet in an attempt to calm down.
"You don't need to be fixed; you're not an object. You need someone who can be there for you, Sam! You need to actually talk about your feelings instead of bottling them up, and trust me, I know how hard that can be!" You gestured towards him, knowing that your choice of words might have been harsh and ironic since he was the one begging for you to leave him.
Sam clocked the irony, ignoring the meaning behind what you said and just shouting in a choked-up voice. "I'm trying!" His anger got the better of him as he pulled at the bracelet you made him. It wasn't all that, but it was important to him and to you. The matching one adorns your own wrist. The cheap material is a piece of elastic string with cute beads. The bracelet held some cute little charms that fit his style, along with a heart and your name. Your bracelet has your own personal aesthetic, and it has his name.
As he angrily tugged at the jewelry, it snapped. He threw what little of the beads his hand caught in your direction. You flinched as some of them flew toward you. Pain prickled at your heart when the beads clattered to the floor. Sam realized what he had done in his small fit of rage. He knew that if he hadn't hurt you before, he had now.
His eyes soften with a flash of sincerity as he stays quiet. Neither of you dared to speak. The anger having died out entirely. Sam slowly walked towards you, both of you having tears running messily down your cheeks. Sam's eyeliner was smudged and tracking down in streaks.
As he neared, you didn't move. Allowing him to embrace you in a hug. His hands were around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. His forehead slumped towards the floor as he nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck. You could feel the wetness brushing on your shoulder from his own crying. Your arms came up and wrapped around him. You both didn't have the words—nothing that could truly say you were sorry.
"Baby," Sam started, cutting himself off as he put together his thoughts. He felt uneasy as he tried to think of a way to apologize. A way to get you to forgive him for his outburst. He knew it wasn't your fault he felt this way, and he knew that he was just self-sabotaging another relationship.
Sam's brain finally formed an idea—the only way he could think of to say he was so fuckin' sorry.
"Baby, let me make it up to you..." Sam finalized it, and the both of you are still crying from the distress of the situation. You tried to pull away so you could look at him and listen to him, but he didn't let you. Confusion rippled through you when his grip on you tightened, tilting your head to the side as a result of your puzzlement. Which just made Sam's job so much easier as he began placing soft kisses on your neck. His mouth trailed up your throat as he sucked at your soft skin. You hummed in satisfaction at his affectionate behavior. Both Sam and you had clouded minds still as he kissed up your jaw, making his way to your swollen lips. Already red and puffy, bitten raw from your sobbing.
Sam just loved seeing you like this; he hated to say it, but you were so pretty when you cried, and you often thought the same thing about him. The way his face would screw together in pain, his eyes watery, and his skin looking red was the most beautiful sight in the world. One of Sam's hands snaked up to your face, cradling you into his palm. He could feel your cheekbone pressed against him, his thumb wiping the liquid dampening under your eye.
The kiss grew more heated; Sam wanted more of you. He wanted all of you, and that was part of the problem in the first place. He felt like he was too selfish with you. Sam prodded at your lower lip with his tongue, and you eagerly let him in. Loving the intimate and passionate way he invaded your mouth. Always wanting to taste you, he'd devour you if he could.
Sam moaned into the kiss. You weren't quite vocal yet. Your emotions are still running rampant, keeping you in a non-verbal-like state. Sam could feel himself getting hard, his hand on your waist slipping down momentarily to massage himself through his jeans. Something that was difficult, but he needed some kind of feeling down there. He was only kissing you, and it was driving him crazy. Sam only ever wanted to please you. Be there for you, but he always felt like he was letting you down. He desperately wanted to save you from himself. He was terrified of taking you down with him. So instead, he would go down on you.
Sam pushed you towards the bed, backing you up until your legs hit the edge, forcing you to sit down. Sam broke the kiss as he unzipped his jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off as he grabbed you by your ankles. He folded you in on yourself, keeping you stable as he pulled off your shorts down your legs, tossing them off god knows where into his room. Once you both were free from your bottoms, Sam kneeled in front of you.
He pulled you closer to him, a yelp escaping your plump lips. Sam didn't bother taking off your panties, opting to just push them to the side with how impatient he was getting. Just as Sam's face got closer to your cunt, he stopped, glancing up at you. His voice was low with need as he asked, "Okay with this pretty girl?" You hummed in approval, words still lacking from your brain and mouth. Sam wouldn't push you to answer today with words; he's already aware of how you react when sensitive.
He dipped his head back to your cunt, his finger caught your panties and pulled them to the side. He watched in amusement and desire when he saw what he'd claimed multiple times. He could tell you were already wet but didn't care as he spat his saliva on your exposed pussy. His hand that wasn't occupied with your underwear came up, sinking a finger in between your folds as he swiped up along your slit. Making sure that you were coated well. He pulled his middle finger back, sucking it clean, before resting his hand on your thigh, keeping it in place.
His tongue finally came into contact with your pretty pussy, licking up and gently sucking on your clit. He pressed kisses on your cunt, as he lapped at you hungrily. His tongue poking at your entrance. He moaned into you as his tongue fucked your little hole. Your little whines falling from your mouth were music to his ears, fueling him to get more aggressive and fasten his pace. His lips were swiping across your cunt as he sucked and kissed you. "Prettiest pussy in the fuckin' world, sweet girl."
Sam was shifting uncomfortably from his boner, trying to ignore it as he ate you out. Your little whines and whimpers turned into moans and shrieks of pleasure as he feasted on you. Acting as if he hadn't eaten for a week. He was plunging into you as if you were the air he needed. The knot in your stomach was unraveling, and he could feel it as your cunt fluttered around his tongue. He kept up with what he was doing, giving you exactly what you needed. The cord in your core broke as the most pornographic moan ripped from you, your legs shaking and clamping down around his head as he ate you out through your orgasm.
Sam whimpered at your reaction, getting off on the fact that he knew you were satisfied with him. "Shit- oh fuck!" Sam whined into your pussy, the vibrations overwhelming you as he came. His boxers were stained with the sticky fluid.
Sam finally moved out of your thighs, standing up and flipping you onto your stomach. He easily lifted your ass into the air, propping you up on your knees while your chest pressed into his sheets. He wasted no time as he freed himself from his briefs. Lining up with your sopping wet cunt as he pushed in. Sam threw his head back, a couple more of his tears sliding down his face and dripping onto the floor. He whined as you gasped into his pillows, not entirely letting you adjust to his size as he started moving. He wasn't being rough, but he was being fast. Your tears soaked into his bed, your mouth opening in pleasure as he fucked into you. Sam rammed into you, slapping noises heard throughout the room. "So good, angel, takin' me so well. This pussy was made for me, fuckkkk..." He drawled out.
Sam leaned to your back, enveloping your throat with his hand as he pulled you to him. His hips not slowing, but definitely hitting deeper than before. "My beautiful girl, only one meant for me. Always know just what I need." He whimpered into your ear; the airflow you were getting was slightly chopped off from his hand. The feeling was like ecstasy as he pounded into you. His praises drove you to the edge again. Sam licked your cheek, collecting the drying tears on his tongue. The flavor was salty, but he enjoyed it. His thrusts are growing sloppy from the overstimulating orgasm building. He made sure to hold off, wanting to keep your own white-hot pleasure going for as long as he could. Your pussy leaking as he pulled out. Juices spraying on his cock as he ran his tip throughout your folds, playing with the stream you were squirting. "Even your pussy is crying for me." Sam laughed through his emotion-filled voice. Once you stopped, he pushed back in, giving a couple more thrusts into you before stilling. Sam held onto you tightly as he came, thick ropes spurting into you.
"I'm taking back my demand; you can't break up with me now." Sam jokes as you both start coming down from your highs, wiping away the water weeping from his eyes. 
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silken-moonlight · 2 days
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Older Alpha and Human waitress/ Part 4
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A/N: Hello again! I am back with part 4 of this series. I have a lot of fun with developing the plot and characters. I am hoping I am not overdoing it in any way shape of form. Also we have now the Moodboard and the Introduction. Also here you'll find part 3 if you are interested. I love you guys so much -Swan/Moon
Desmonds POV
The next day was similar to the days before. He went to the meetings in the morning and noon, speaking with the other alphas about the pack territory. The problem had been that there was a new pack forming and they had demanded space or else they would have taken themselves said space. This of course could not have been permitted, since that would have ended in a massacre. The human government would have not been amused to cover up a slaughter between two packs and so they had to find a way without blood. While Desmond knew better, some days he wished they would just fight it out. Atlest then there wouldn’t have been so many meetings and fights in the meeting room. His thoughts were captivated by something else anyway…He was worried for his mate, she had looked so distressed. The longing to just take her away from all her worries had never been as strong as in that moment.
The alpha tried to cheer himself up, he would see her again today. Maybe would even make her smile when he brought her the books she had left behind. Of course was he aware that it might have looked a little weird…he just could not help himself. The urge to spoil and pamper his little mate was overwhelming. In his mind he had already planned their first trip to his cabin. He would take her there before they would officially return to the pack village. Thinking about all the things they could do…while Desmond really tried to keep his thoughts pure…it was not as easy. His inner wolf whined and scratched against the walls of his mind. The primal needs he felt were strong, he craved to touch his mates soft skin. To kiss her plump lips, to make her feel safe in his arms. To undress her slowly before- Desmond stopped his thoughts right there. He really didn’t want to get a boner in the middle of a political discussion.
A few hours later, the meetings and work was done for the day. Desmond would do the paperwork later, he had gotten an email from Isaac with some documents he needed him to look at. Desmond’s Pack had a few companies under their name or were part of them, while most things were equally shared, two of the companies were under his name. There also were many contracts he had to look at, work with or renew. 60% of the money earned ran into the Pack fund, all pack members that were working full time also gave away 10% of their salary to the pack fund. With that money were paid a lot of things like the maintenance of the packhouses, insurance costs, school and kindergarten places, student loans, cars that were free to use amongst the Pack…the list went on and on. Desmond himself had brought this concept to the pack after seeing it being absolutely successful in another pack. Since he did that, his pack had not only grown a lot but also was one of the most peaceful. That comes along with being an actual community. Desmond had learned the importance of acceptance, beginning to help werewolves who had not such a good start in their life or a rough time…The Alpha wondered what his mate would think of all of that. With how sweet she seemed, he was sure she would adore his work.
With his mind occupied by that thought, he walked into the restaurant. He sat down in his usual booth…but his beloved was not there. Desmond ordered by her colleague, waiting for her to arrive. But she did not come. His heart sunk…where was she?
Your POV
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It had been your day off when your father had a bad episode of pain. His back and hip were hurting so much that he couldn’t get up from his bed. Of course you took two days off and stayed with him day and night. You had called his doctor who had taken the time to do a home visit. He had given your father some medications that eased his pain for a short time. Today was the first day that he felt better. Right now he sat in the garden, Pumpkin and Spice laying at his feet, enjoying the sun. Your mum and you were baking blueberry muffins, the kitchen smelled deliciously like the home baked goods. Tonight you would work again, but would always be available for your parents to call.
Initially you had wanted to become a nurse, but the condition of your parents has kept you occupied. You were unable to stay away from home too long, so you found a job that only would be in the afternoon and evening. That's how you ended up in the Sailor Boy, utterly grateful for your job and understanding boss. It may not have been what you wanted at first, but you were more than grateful to have something. Your mum and you put the muffins in the oven, setting the timer and sitting down. Your phone beeped and you looked at it.
William: Hey love, I am in town again, how you doing?
Y/N: Will, haven’t heard from you in forever! I’m doing fine.
William: Nice to hear that, yeah, I was on a big hike with Jeannie. Want to meet up and catch up?
Y/N: Sure, but I am only free in the mornings and noon, you okay with that?
William: Absolutely, how about tomorrow? In our Café?
Y/N: Sounds like a plan, how about 9 am and eat breakfast together.
William: Deal, see you there.
You were quite excited to see Will again. He was one, actually the only, friend you had left. Most of your friends had stopped texting you when your parents' conditions worsened. Since you refused to go out and party, which wasn’t your thing anyways, they stopped making the effort. You tried to do other things with them like going shopping together, movie nights or hikes together. That wasn’t really what most of your friends wanted. So they and you started to text less and less until you lost contact. The two friends you still had were William and Amanda. Amanda began to use you as her personal therapist, trying everything to get your attention. Manipulating you to be available to her at all times. Will told you she was bad news, you didn't listen. The brutal fallout came eventually. Both of you were left hurt.
So that only left Will. Will had no one but his girlfriend Jeannie and you, he had gone no contact with his family as soon as he moved out. For a short time he had lived with you and your family, when his flat had caught fire and he was left homeless. Will didn’t want to be a bother, but you refused to let him sleep in a dingy hotel. That was two years ago. Will had also been the one to tell you about Werewolves and other magical creatures. You didn’t believe him, that was until he had transformed into a Werewolf in front of you. You had been…a little out of it afterwards. However when he explained everything and you swore secrecy, everything went on as usual. Honestly the knowledge of magical creatures didn’t affect your daily life in the slightest. Shortly after the housefire William met his wonderful girlfriend Jeannie, she was a travel and hiking blogger. The two of them hiked and traveled the world together, often sponsored by some big company. William took the pictures and videos while Jeannie was the model. Jeannie was a lovely person, kind and so confident. You two got along so well that Will often joked if he was even needed when you all met up.
The next hours passed quickly, you thinking about tomorrow, the muffins being ready and eating a late lunch with your parents. You got ready for your work and took the bus into the city.
Half an hour later you arrived at your workplace, quickly going up into the staffrom an changing into your work clothes. After that you went down, doing your usual routine. Not even forty minutes had passed when a certain somebody entered the restaurant. Desmond, you remembered his name, was dressed in a black suit, his hair in a bun and his beard must have been freshly cut and formed. You bet that he smelled like the most expensive perfume.
You smiled at him kindly: “Hi there, how are you doing?” You asked him. Why did he look so relieved? You were missing something, you just didn’t know what. “I am good, wonderful actually.” He stepped with you on the side and a worried look was on his handsome face, his gray eyes were filled with compassion. “Is everything okay? You looked distressed the other day.” He asked, his voice was soft. Actually worried. Your bottom lip trembled, a sudden wave of sadness and exhaustion washing over you. If you thought too hard about it, you would cry. However, you caught yourself. Faking a smile you tried to ease his worry: “Yeah everything is alright, don’t worry.” You looked up at him, he was far taller than you. “May I ask what happened?” You nodded slowly: “Well my parents are chronically ill. My father had a bad episode of pain and needed me.”
The handsome man, Desmond, looked at you again with such compassion. “I know I might overstep, but you left the books behind and I took the freedom to buy them for you.” He placed a black paper bag in your hand. Your eyes went wide and you looked up at him absolutely surprised. “I cannot accept these.” You quickly said. Desmond chuckled:” I insist.” You felt guilty, you must have looked so distressed that he wanted to help you. “Let me pay you back.” You tell him, wanting to get your money. “If you pay me back I will give it as your tip.” Desmond said with a grin. “Has anyone told you before that you are stubborn?” You said with a smile. Desmond chuckled: “Actually yes. And please accept the books. I am so grateful for our conversations. After a day at the office I always look forward to it.” You grinned and answered: “Here I was thinking you’re always returning for our town's famous cocktails.” Both of you laughed at that.
“Thank you, really.” You then said a little more serious again. You blushed slightly, but then quickly remembered what you had told yourself before: He was just kind, not interested in you. You reminded yourself that he was older, a businessman and very surely not interested in a waitress from a medium sized town.
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petew21-blog · 2 days
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Life upgrade
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Hi, I am Earl Montgomery. I am 34 year old gay man. I studied history and enhlish literature at Columbia and then I became a teacher. I have been working as a teacher since than and I have to say that being a teacher is one of the most honorable proffesions there are. You get to educate all the young minds and set them on a right path in life. If only they would listen to me during classes. Maybe my life wouldn't be so boring. The job takes all my energy. I never believed that so many teachers get burnt out, but man. Once you see that your job affects only few of those kids and the rest just doesn't care, you contemplate back on your life. What could I have done different? I could have had a happy, adventurous life full of fun and sex. Oh how I miss the sex.
Oh sorry, my bad. You thought the guy wearing sports clothes is me? Oh no no no. This is me actually
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That guy is Barry. The gym teacher. He's the same age as me. But his life is much better. He works as a gym teacher, coach and in his free time he is a personal trainer in gym. He gets to coach all the hot bodybuilders and sometimes women, that lust over him a later on sleep with him.
I onced tried to hit on him, thinking he might be bisexual, but ended up being ignored for the rest of the school year. He started talking to me again recently and that's fine. If there is no drama it's all good. Besides. He has his own life full of sport and travelling around the world, fucking everything that moves. And I have my own life. My slightly boring and depresive life.
Who am I kidding? I hate my life. I wish I were Barry. To have his hot body, his libido, his life full of travellling and fucking everyone.
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Suddenly it was so bright all around me. I was in a garage. Running. I stopped. Where am I? Why am I running? How did I get here?
I looked around but the place was empty. Then I looked down and saw the grey clothes for sport that Barry has. "This can't be". I walked over to the nearest car and saw Barry. No, I saw my reflection.
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"Well well well. Can't ignore me now, huh?" I flexed my biceps over the shirt. So freaking hot. He is so buff. Must be amazing to be so strong and have strong muscles like this. His skin is so tense and beautiful. I gotta go somewhere more private to look what he's hiding under this. Don't know how this freaky friday will last.
Vibration in my pocket. Some girls want to have a private class with me in the gym. But the emojis don't seem like they want to take the training very seriously. Might be fun.
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"Flex for the camera. Perfect!"
"Omg Barry, you're really hot. How did you get so big?"
"You think this is big... you haven't seen all of me yet. Haha" Where the hell was this coming from? Why did I say that?
"Really? We were actually thinking you coul help us stretch some time and show us how to do this to not hurt ourselves."
"I can stretch you both now in the showers, babes" Whyyy am I saying this. I'm not straight for fucks sake. Oh no. I'm not, but Barry is. I need to get back. I can't be straight.
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1 hour later
"Thanks Barry. What a great personal class. Haha. Same time next week?" the taller oned asked while walking away from the gym
"You bet!" the sex was really good I have to admit that. But only this body craves it. Not me. I am gay, I don't want to watch pussy all day.
Phone vibrated again
Holy shit, A message from my number:"Hey, I don't know what you did to me, but I just jerked off for the third time thinking about my own body and I can't keep doing this... I want to swa... SUUCK your dick"
Oh maan, he has the same problem as I do. His body responds to what the person craved before, bout our minds didn't change our sexual orientation it seems.
"Came to your body's place in 30 minutes. Bring lube. Don't be late" I texted. I love this confidence the body is so full off.
And I bet I am gonna love the fact that my old body is gonna suck my dick very soon.
Haha. Gotta thank the istock photos for the inspiration
Story from inbox: Would you be able to do a story where a nerdy teacher swaps bodies with the hunky football coach. Maybe even cucking him?
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draculaxias · 2 days
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#Parent! Zoya
hcs of how Zoya would be as a parent ♡
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Once you have given birth Zoya can’t help but get emotional at the sight of her baby, your baby. It’s hard to imagine how someone like her could bring a such a pure, innocent thing to the world.
She will be hesitant to hold the baby, too afraid to hurt such a delicate thing but will built enough courage if you comfort her.
Ever since then Zoya has been holding your baby more than you! The only time she gives your baby back is when you have to nurse them; but she is the one who helps them sleep, change their diaper, change their clothes, which is a bunch of help— it lets you relax and focus more on your recovery.
Thanks to Zoya your child developed some fashion sense. It’s like a mini Zoya, your child even developed some of her traits! Which is .. cute but also a curse.
Like there was a time the baby was having a whole ass boxing match with one of their plushies in the crib.. No one knows what the plushie did to get your child angry but it happened.
Zoya is always carrying your child everywhere. Either on her hip or carrying them on her shoulders.
Most likely the cause of why your baby’s first word was “shit”
Once your child grows older and starts going to school she will definitely be the one packing their lunch.
Like it’s so adorable, she wakes up extra early just to prepare her baby’s lunch box and help them get ready and drop them off to school. It’s not only because she wants you to rest more but because it’s something that she genuinely enjoys doing— surprisingly.
Gets annoyed when parents, teachers, and kids (who want to cry-) stare at her when she’s waiting outside for her kid. They all think she is trying to kidnap a kid, but get surprised when her child runs up to her with a huge grin “MAMA!”
Deadass taught them how to fight to defend themselves… The other kids at school don’t even DARE say an insult..
Teases you about being the favorite parent.
Often talks to you about wanting more kids, she honestly never saw herself actually becoming a parent but ever since your first; she wants to raise more children with you.
By the way she loves your stretch marks, if you ever feel insecure because of them she is quick to changing your mind by kissing your whole entire body; telling you how gorgeous you are in her eyes and that your stretch marks are beautiful.
She loves you and your small (for now LMFAO) family so much. Zoya is willing to give you and your child(ren) all the things she didn’t get to have as a child; protection, love, care, everything.
Plays rock or metal music, she says it’s “The good stuff.”
Has alone days with the kid and they ho out somewhere, later coming back home with a smiling child holding a new toy.
Always the one checking for monsters under the bed, or reads them bedtime stories when you’re too tired.
Hugs you from behind randomly and rubs your stomach “We should have another one, you know?”
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kentobb · 17 hours
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PRESAGE | CHAPTER SIX
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Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader
Genre: Angst ANGST Angst
Warnings: Foul Language and LOTS OF ANGST.
Author’s note: There’s a lot of Angst in this chapter. Beware.
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Ushijima sat at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched forward as he nursed a glass of whiskey. The dim lighting cast shadows over his usually impassive face, revealing lines of worry and a vulnerability that Tendo had never seen before. Tendo, perched on the stool beside him, watched his old friend with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He had always known Ushijima as the unshakable pillar, a man of few words and even fewer outward emotions.
Tonight was different.
"Hey, Ushiwaka," Tendo began, trying to sound casual despite the knot of worry tightening in his chest. "What happened tonight, man? I've never seen you like this."
Ushijima took a long sip of his drink before responding, his voice a low rumble. "I kissed her.”
Tendo blinked in surprise. “Are you guys back together?”
"No, I just…" Ushijima said, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. "It was a lot of things. Lots of emotions. I wasn't there when he was born. I wasn't there for any of it. I wasn’t there for her. And she only keeps pushing me away.”
Tendo let out a slow breath, trying to process the gravity of Ushijima's words. He had always seen his friend as an impenetrable fortress, someone who carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders without so much as a flinch. But here he was, baring his soul in a way that was both heartbreaking and profoundly human.
"Listen, Ushiwaka," Tendo said softly, placing a hand on his friend's arm. “Everything may seem disastrous. But believe me when I say that things will get better.”
Ushijima looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't know if I can do it, Tendo. She hates me, doesn’t want me to met him. What if he doesn't want anything to do with me? He's out there, growing up without knowing who I am. And I... I feel terrible about it. He deserves to know. To know his father."
Tendo squeezed his arm reassuringly. "You can't think like that. The important thing is that you try. He might be angry, confused, maybe even hurt at first. But kids are resilient, and they understand more than we give them credit for. He deserves the chance to know his father, and you deserve the chance to be in his life."
Ushijima nodded slowly, the weight of Tendo's words sinking in. "You're right. I have to try.”
Tendo smiled, a rare moment of seriousness in his usually playful demeanor. "Exactly. And remember, you're not alone in this. I'll help you however I can. You're like a brother to me, Ushiwaka. We'll get through this together."
Ushijima's stoic facade cracked, a small, grateful smile appearing on his lips. "Thank you, Tendo. I... I don't know what I'd do without you."
Tendo chuckled, the tension in the air easing slightly. "Well, you'd probably be a lot less entertained, that's for sure. But seriously, everything's going to be alright. We'll figure this out, one step at a time."
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The next day, Ushijima stood outside your apartment, his heart pounding in a way it never had before a volleyball match. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment, then rapped on the door. Moments later, it swung open, your eyes widened in surprise, jaw nearly dropping. The argument you had the night before was still fresh in your mind, tension lingering in the air between the two of you.
"Ushijima," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you," he replied, his tone earnest. "Is this a bad time?"
You glanced behind you, into the apartment, then back at him. "No, it's fine. Asami took Asahi to school. Come in."
He entered the apartment and quickly settled into the living room. Ushijima sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped together, while you sat across from him, expression wary.
"Y/N," he began, his voice low and steady. "I'm sorry for the outburst yesterday. I was overwhelmed... I didn't handle it well. But I need—“
You nodded slowly, eyes fixed on him, waiting.
"I want to meet my son," he said, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I need to. Whether or not I deserve it, it’s my right as his father."
A heavy silence fell between the two of you, one that made him shiver. He could feel the weight of your gaze, the conflict in your eyes.
"I'm scared," You finally said, voice soft but firm. "I'm scared of how Asahi will react. I want to protect him. He's... he's everything to me."
"Don't you think I want that too?" Ushijima's voice was raw with emotion, his eyes pleading with yours. "He's my son too. I want to protect him just as much as you do."
You stood firm, arms crossed protectively over your chest. “I understand that, Ushijima, but it’s not that simple…Asahi…Asahi is only five. He doesn’t know you. Bringing you into his life suddenly could confuse and scare him.”
“I can protect him, too,” Ushijima countered, his voice rising. “I’m his father. I have a right to be in his life. You don’t get to decide that on your own.”
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m not trying to keep him from you. I’m trying to protect him. He’s been through so much already. I don’t want to disrupt his life.”
Ushijima took a step closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Do you think I want to disrupt his life? I want to be there for him, to support him, to love him. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”
Your heart ached at the pain in his eyes, but your fear for Asahi was stronger. “You don’t understand what it’s been like. I’ve had to make all the decisions on my own. I’ve had to be both mother and father to him. And now you’re here, demanding to be part of his life, but you haven’t been here. You haven’t seen what he’s been through.”
“And whose fault is that?” Ushijima shot back, his voice breaking. “You never told me. You never gave me the chance to be there.”
Your tears spilled over, voice shaking with emotion. “You left me to make your dreams come true, you would have done the same thing with Asahi.”
Ushijima's frustration had reached its breaking point, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “I would have stayed for Asahi, not for you.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You stood motionless, eyes widening in shock. Your face crumpled as the weight of his words sank in, the heartbreak clear and devastating. You looked away, unable to meet his eyes, body trembling with the effort to hold yourself together.
The room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the walls closing in as the voices echoed off the surfaces. Your heart pounded in her chest, a mix of anger, fear, and sorrow.
In that moment, Ushijima realized the gravity of what he had said. The anger and frustration that had fueled his words evaporated, leaving only a hollow regret. He wanted to take it back, to tell you he didn’t mean it, Fuck, but the words lodged in his throat, refusing to come out.
Both of you stared at each other, the tension thick in the air. After what felt like an eternity, your voice, was barely a whisper. “If I had told you back then… you would have stayed, but not because you loved me. You would have given up your dreams, and you would have resented me. You would have resented us.”
Your words cut through him, each one a knife to his heart. You wiped your tears with a trembling hand, your eyes still fixed on the floor. “I wanted to protect Asahi, but I also wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to destroy your dreams. And now… now I don’t even know if I did the right thing.”
Ushijima’s throat tightened, his chest constricting with unspoken apologies. He had never felt so helpless, so trapped by his own emotions. The realization that his words had caused you such pain was a weight he didn’t know how to bear.
You took a deep, shaky breath, your voice steadier but still filled with sorrow. “You’re right, Ushijima. You need to meet your son. But it has to be slow. We have to do this carefully, for his sake.”
You finally looked up, but your eyes didn’t meet his. Instead, they focused somewhere over his shoulder, as if you couldn’t bear to see him. That avoidance cut deeper than anything else, a silent confirmation of the hurt he had caused.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work,” you continued, voice devoid of its earlier strength. “But please, understand that this isn’t easy for me. I’m scared for him, and I’m scared for us.”
Ushijima nodded, though you weren’t looking at him to see it. He had gotten what he wanted—he would be able to see his son. But at what cost? The pain in your eyes, the heartbreak he had inflicted, made the victory feel hollow and tainted.
He wanted to say he was sorry, to reach out and comfort you, to take back the words that had caused so much damage. But the apology was stuck, the weight of his own guilt and frustration silencing him.
"I think it would be best if it happened in a place where he feels comfortable.” You began, voice steady but soft. “There’s this ice cream place he loves. It’s his favorite spot."
Ushijima nodded, sensing the importance of the suggestion. "That sounds like a good idea. I want him to feel at ease."
Your eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between the two of you seemed to ease, or at least he thought. "It's called Sweet Delights. It's just a few blocks from here. We go there every Friday after school. Maybe... maybe you could meet us there this Friday?"
Ushijima smiled, a rare warmth in his usually stoic expression. "I’d like that. Thank you, Y/N.”
You nodded, "I'll talk to Asahi beforehand, let him know that there's someone special he’s going to meet. But I want you to understand... he's still a child. This is going to be a lot for him."
"I understand," Ushijima said gently. "I'll go at his pace. I just want him to know who I am."
"Alright," You said, voice shaky and painful, "Friday, at Sweet Delights. Around 4 PM." The pain in your tone was unmistakable.
"I'll be there," Ushijima promised.
Your face was turned away, but he could see the tension in your posture, the way your shoulders hunched as if trying to protect yourself from further hurt. The silence between was heavy, laden with unspoken words and raw emotions.
He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes never leaving your face. He could see the tears brimming in your eyes, ready to spill over at any moment. The sight of your pain was almost too much to bear. "Hey…” he began, his voice soft, laden with regret and desperation.
But you didn't look at him. You stood still, face turned away, every line of your body taut with tension. Ushijima reached out, his hand trembling, and tried to take yours. The moment his fingers brushed against your skin, you flinched and pulled away, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow.
You turned and walked to the door, movements slow and deliberate. When you reached it, you opened it wide, the gesture as clear as any words could be. You wanted him to leave. Without saying a word, you had dismissed him from your presence, from the fragile moment you had shared.
Ushijima took a deep breath, the air catching in his throat. His chest felt tight, constricted by the weight of everything unsaid. He took one last look at you, hoping for a flicker of something—anything—that would tell him you both weren't completely lost to each other. But you remained still, her eyes refusing to meet his.
With a heavy heart, he turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The finality of that sound echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the distance.
Standing in the hallway, Ushijima felt an overwhelming emptiness settle over him. He had come here seeking a connection, hoping to start building a bridge to his son. Instead, he had inadvertently widened the chasm between himself and you.
He took a deep breath, the air feeling cold and thin. The emotions he had kept tightly controlled now swirled chaotically within him—regret, sorrow, anger at himself. He wanted to turn back, to knock on the door and say all the things that were trapped inside him. But the memory of your tear-filled eyes and the way you had pulled away from his touch held him back.
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<3 Let me know in the comments your reaction. Comments, notes or reblogs are appreciated 🩷
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lorata · 3 days
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any particular ideas about the victors and empathy? like are there any that are low/no empathy, or any that are hyperempathetic? it would be interesting to see how empathy or lack thereof would impact their experiences/images both before, during, and after their games (even if panem probably doesn't have a very good understanding of what that entails from a psychology perspective lol)
a fun thing is that both Selene and Petra are low/no empathy, which makes them a fascinating pair. Petra knows she's missing something early and so outsources her sense of right & wrong to The Rules while Selene just does not care and this is a source of conflict for the two of them quite often.
Selene bases her morality around You Are Annoying Me, Personally whereas Petra's is You Have Broken The Rules This Is Bad And Unfair And Wrong which is why they drive each other up the wall
at their first kill tests Selene doesn't feel guilty. she vaguely thinks she should? but she doesn't, and they're here to kill, so, oh well. Petra asks her victim what she did, learns she did something bad, and is like, all right then, I'm good. they have a chat after Selene's about how neither felt bad and it's the one time they're both weirdly sympatico
both Selene and Petra have images that are slightly ... off/wild/feral, in no small part due to this. Selene they have to constantly remind her to pull it back or she'll go full villain (ha ha OH WELL given that she kills her district partner immediately but Misha knows). Petra's original was a bit more on the like ..... off-putting aloof killer vibe, similar to Clove, but with the maces she never got to pull that out so she had to go for the nymphomaniac over the top angle instead.
post-Games it's easy to keep things from Petra re: the state of the world until things explode because she just doesn't think about it. she has enough to deal with re: her own healing and constantly getting re-traumatized and all that nonsense that she doesn't have the mental energy to put towards things like oh what is it like for the districts or the other victors or is the only person who's nice to me actually doing this as part of a giant machiavellian scheme. it all falls apart in canon divergence once she has time to really sit and wrestle with those questions? but boy it takes some time and work and the others (particularly the younger ones) have some choice words for her in the meantime
Callista is also very low empathy, this (ahem) very clearly factored into her image & strategy. She does not care about the other districts and she says what she wants and if you get offended that's on you. Now mind you, while Calli has low empathy and her circle is small, IF you are inside that circle her compassion level is extremely high. Calli knows that Nero is hurting and she wants to do many, many murders on his behalf. She is very angry that she cannot. Ditto with her tributes, most of whom are similarly villainized by the narrative which is part of the reason she keeps choosing them anyway. In the AUs where she does manage to land either Creed or Alec she doesn't get what they're feeling half the time but she will help them regardless and god help anyone who tries to stand between them.
on the flip side we have Devon and Alec, who are both on the hyper-empathy end of things. Devon is able to control and use his fairly well, both in the Games and beyond; Alec has much more trauma and tends to be paralyzed by it for a lot longer before finally managing to work through things as an adult. part of Alec's problem is being unable to make his own decisions or justify his emotions
ironically Claudius is also very high on empathy but has no idea for a long time given that his specific cocktail of trauma and rage responses resulted in him lashing out and hurting people, so his whole "i'm a monster" thing dug in pretty deep and he withdraws. post-games though he can't help it and it lands him in trouble fairly quickly since he can't stop THINKING about other people and it sends him straight to treason town before he's even finished his victory tour, lol. post-canon divergence he winds up being like ... a teen counsellor for ex-centre kids which is the last thing he thought he'd be doing, but there you go. funny enough Eibhlin is the first person to tell him that he's high empathy and he doesn't believe her. but one of the reasons he's so good at 'mentoring' Selene is his ability to get inside her head before she even knows her own feelings really
in general while they don't have official vocab for it the Centre definitely IDs kids who have high empathy and/or compassion and has ways to decentralize that, whether it's giving them a cause or comfort in the rules or helping to carefully dissociate what they do from who they are. for the kids on the other end it's more a question of managing that line so they don't go too far.
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i am once again thinking of my little role reversal au curse user!reader…… and their dynamics with the students…..,,,. they make me insane 😔
they’re just. sooooo bitter. such a hater. they have the most insane toji-ptsd-induced beef with megumi and maki…….. it’s worst with megumi. they’re so mean to him for no reason. pulling out their biggest demon dog curse just so they can taunt him for “taking his little puppies out on a walk”……… they have that dynamic with maki too but it’s a lot more rooted in maki being a non-sorcerer in their eyes. and i think they end up rooting for her eventually…. they’ll never admit it though. but when she kills the zenin clan they’re there with the smuggest look on their face <3333
but with megumi, that sense of something almost playful isn’t there at all. they look at him and all they can think of is the scar on their neck, warm blood weighing them down, satoru’s and suguru’s half-dead bodies….. they look at him and they see toji. so they can’t help but hate him. they’re especially snarky with him just to hide how terrified they are.
the other second years are . a different story 😭 they don’t care about inumaki and panda. regularly forget they exist. rip. and i think they’re a little embarrassed to be around yuuta because he beat them LMAO…. but they also have a weird kinship going on. yuuta absolutely loathes them for hurting his friends and they’re just like :)) try me. do it. do it. you’re the same as me. JUST to piss him off…. suguru doesn’t let them be in the same room without adult supervision because otherwise they WILL be walking out with broken bones . they’re both unhinged.
but then we have nobara and yuji :(((((( who are their soft spots. yuji reminds them so much of suguru as a teen. they can’t help but love him. they want to protect him. same thing w nobara….. she reminds them of the way satoru used to be. reader is soooo protective over them both but in a kind of gruff way…. it’s really obvious that they care though!!! they want them to be safe. they want them to have a better childhood than they had. ….. although. well. i don’t think nobara likes them very much 😭 yuji is more open-minded.
and finally there’s nanako and mimiko . which is just. yeah. lots and lots and lots of bitterness from both sides <33333 nanamimi hate them for hurting suguru, and they hate nanamimi for being little brats. it’s all bark and no bite because reader wouldn’t actually hurt suguru’s precious daughters, but . like. they kinda want to sometimes 😭 they’re maybe just a little bit jealous . coming back only to find out that suguru has two daughters, that he saved them and protected them but let reader slip away……. they don’t want to acknowledge that part of it but. it’s there. and nanamimi is DOUBLE the jealousy because??? whyyy is suguru-sensei so in love with you. why does he keep loving you despite what you’ve done. why can’t he move on and meet someone else? someone better?
…. all three of them are aware that reader’s holding him back, reader included. there’s a silent understanding there. and i think it eventually develops into a mutual respect. suguru loves reader, so nanamimi grows to love them too. and reader doesn’t really get a choice in the matter when they’re so similar to their father…. sniffle. they’re found family :(((((( reader is the best/worst guardian figure ever . nanako gets a bf in the future and reader casually asks if she’d like them to kill him after they break up <3333 (which isn’t. that different from suguru’s response lmao)
I’M JUST . thinking …. about them …….. maybe one day i’ll actually write this fic instead of daydreaming about it 😭😭😭 i love my bitter reader so bad!!!
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Hi there my bbg (big black guy 🥰🥰)‼️‼️‼️ I have a teeny weeny request to make. How about f!child reader x Hantengu(s)?
Here's plot:
So, basically, Hantengu is getting chased by slayers, right, and it's also bright out. So, he runs and runs, but bumps into a child who somehow catches the speedy lil fuck and takes him home, thinking he's cute and y'know "you're my friend now :D" type shit. But then, here's the thing, child reader is an orphan and the brothers and sisters and the caretaker aren't very nice to the lil baby ): (Hantengu is gone btw). So, she runs away and goes into the forest Hantengu came out of when boom bam, she's attacked by demons and faints out of literal fear. The next thing she knows, little friend is on top of her with four big scary men (and soon two more friends) who then vow to take care of her as a thanks for saving Hantengu (let's be realistic here tho she's gonna get turned into a demon if that's the case)
That's is all 😊😊😊😊
Here you go. This was very fun to write. I love writing Zoha as someone who is soft with children
Readers POV:
Yet again I had been shut out the house and left to fend for myself so I had taken to wandering the forest in hopes of finding something to keep me occupied. Off in the distance I hear the screeching of metal and thunderous footsteps which put little old me on edge as I back up into a tree in fear, my little ears picking up the tiny patter of fast little feet on the forest floor and out of instinct my hands shoot out and catch whatever was rushing at me and hiding behind the tree as many a armed men rush past us angrily shouting. I wait until they are long gone before opening my hands to be met with the sight of the smallest person I think i’ve ever seen, he trembles in my hands begging over and over again to not hurt him but the only thought running through my mind is ‘TINY FRIEND!!!’
I bring him up to my face and nuzzle my cheek against him gently which stops his crying, albeit probably out of confusion more then anything else, as I ramble on and on about how small he is and how i’ll protect him from the horrors of this world. When both of our heads swivel around at the sound of the angry men coming back our way, my hands feel a tab bit lighter as I look back down to see the little friend is gone and the angry men turn the tree to find me standing there. “Hey hey little one it’s alright, can you tell us if you’ve seen a demon around here?” One of the men crouch down to my level, asking if i’ve seen a…. demon? what the hell is a demon? I shake my head, not wanting to speak to the men that were running around screaming their heads off and slowly inching away from them and running off back ‘home’ as the sun peaks over the horizon.
I open the sliding doors to the house and am greeted to screaming from my adopted mother as she drags me to the stove to help her cook as I am still too small to cook properly (much to her chagrin). She shoves a knife in my hands and instructs me to start cutting the fruit and for 20 minutes, that’s all we do in silence. The silence is broken by a pair of running feet as my adopted family’s actual children round the corner, pushing and shoving each other playfully. My ‘mother’ turning around with a smile on her face, a smile that would never be aimed at me, and gently scolded them for roughhousing before turning back to me and demanding that I serve her children breakfast. I do as i’m told before scurrying off to my ‘room’ (the closet) so that i’m not yelled at for being seen.
I think back to the tiny friend I made the previous night, how cruel it seemed to be chasing him and if he was doing alright. I sat in that room until nightfall where the house fell into silence which is when I decided to run away. These people didn’t care for me and I could probably do better in the wild then here, at least that’s what my eight year old brain was telling me. So I packed my little bag and ran out the house into the forest to try and find my tiny friend. It had been about 20 minutes and no sign of my tiny friend but growls in the distance had me on edge for the second time in this forest, suddenly a creature of disproportionate size lunges out of the bushes at me and I scream as it lands its claws into my chest. Not enough to kill me but enough to hurt and the next thing I know, I faint out of a mix of fear and pain.
I groan in pain and manage to open my eyes to see…. tiny friend?! Whimpering and crying as he covers me with his body, from the peaks of his kimono I can see four other people beating the daylights out of the creature that attacked me. Looking up at my tiny friend as his tears drip down on my face, I reach up and with the sleeve of my tattered kimono I wipe his tears away and he stops his hysterical sobbing, quietening down to hiccups. “Don’t cry tiny friend i’m alright see?” I point to my chest, only now realising that the wound was gone, not even a scar remained as I gasp and pat at the area. “oh hey, where’d it go?” My intrigue turned back to tiny friend as if he knew. “I-I-I couldn’t help ittt, not my fault. I made you swallow some of my blood.” His explanation isn’t the best, especially when I don’t know what demon blood did to humans. Nevertheless, I cheer and throw my arms around tiny friend thanking him for saving me. By this time, the four men hand finished and were gathered around us, tiny friend shrunk to be picked up as the one wearing a kimono matching his, picks him up, eyeing me carefully. The winged one has no concerns, picking me up playfully, being careful of his claws as he lifts me up to his face and examines me. “This the one Hantengu?” He asks tiny friend who I now know the name of, Hantengu nodding his head and the four of them started walking further into the forest.
After a while, we come across a run down shack an we enter, it smells of blood and dust. A larger version of Hantengu turns the corner and takes tiny friend out of the red mans hands, eyeing me carefully. We all move into the living room (I don’t know if they had these but they do now) where I see yet another person, this one looked younger, although not as young as he. his brows furrowed as he sets an intense glare upon me. “Is this the one that protected Hantengu?” I am shocked, his voice sounds so much deeper then I would have expected it to sound. The one holding me nodded, throwing me up and catching me a couple of times. “Don’t do that, you’ll drop her and that’ll be upsetting” The blue man with a sad frown spoke up yet made no move to take me out the winged mans hands. The green one with no shirt on laughs out loud at this statement. “Oh Aizetsu you do say the funniest things! Urogi won’t drop her she means too much to the old man” I had learnt two more names as the largest one snatched me out of Urogi’s arms and settling me in his lap with Hantengu, who pinned himself to my side as the red one growled at the antics of the others. “God you lot are insufferable!” He snaps to which the youngest one nods in agreement, the furrow in his brow becoming deeper as he finally takes his intense gaze off me.
“Awwwah Sekido! You always ruin all the fun, you as well Urami” The green one whines although he doesn’t look too upset at the yelling like Aizetsu does. Yet another two names are learnt, the red man is Sekido and the one holding me and tiny friend is called Urami. The only two nameless men left are the green one and younger one. Sekido growls again. “Karaku…” His voice is threatening as I now learn the green mans name. “Enough both of you!” Urami growls from above me and Hantengu grips my kimono in his little hands which I awe at, he’s so small which I find cute. What I haven’t realised yet is the small horns and purple discolouring that decorated my face like the men in the room. Karaku keeps his giggling, poking fun at Sekido and Urami as Urogi joins in, Aizetsu having left the room, sensing the incoming shit storm. Urami’s grip on his arms tightens as he stands up and shoves me and Hantengu into the younger mans arms, storming up to Karaku and Urogi, grabbing them both and draggin them outside with Sekido following.
All three pairs of eyes follow them as they leave, a moment of silence passes over us as the younger one keeps a tight grasp on us and I risk looking up at him only to be met by an intense stare. “You saved Hantengu from those villians and for that you have our gratitude small one.” He raises a finger to prod my forehead and horns, which I now realise I have. “To show our thanks, we have made you just like us and we will take care of you from now on. Oh where are my manners, My name is Zohakuten” My head nods in acknowledgement as my hands reach up to touch my horns, they are short, stubby and very firm. I look back down at tiny friend and point to my horns. “Look! Now i’m just like you tiny friend.” I am ecstatic, not realising what demon life would mean for me. Hantengu nods about as cheerfully as he could. I yawn, regeneration having taken a toll on my weak demon body as I snuggle into Zohakuten, holding Hantengu in my arms. Drifting off into a dreamless sleep, I swear I felt a small kiss being placed on the top of my head.
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good-beanswrites · 3 months
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I’m thinking about the angst of the restraints headcanon again. There’s the two with the least physically violent crimes, and they rank relatively low in strength. There’s the child who was violent but had to be really crafty about it; she’s the weakest of all of them. And the most dangerous of the guilty prisoners cannot be restrained.
This makes me so emotional!!! All three are the smallest of their circles. Two of them are extremely ordinary people who have never experienced/expressed physical violence before. One hadn't even fathomed the idea of someone dying until they actually did. And yet, they're subjected to the type of restraints you'd expect to see on someone who is uncontrollably violent. The fact that prisoners who committed very gruesome murders can walk free (including Mikoto) just adds insult to injury. I still couldn't everything into words, but here's a Mahiru-centric drabble featuring the same thoughts. It takes place after T1 closes but before the attacks.
“Where are our rights?”
Fuuta’s shout caused Mahiru to wince. She perched on her bedding, watching the two prisoners she’d invited to her cell. It hadn’t been the fun kind of invitation, though. Back in school, she always wanted to have parties and dates back at her place. Moving to the city, she imagined what it would be like to make university friends and take them back home with her to talk, eat, and have fun. 
Sitting in her dim gray cell with Fuuta and Amane, all of them held fast by complex sets of restraints, was not what she’d had in mind.
Amane knelt in the corner. Her arms were crossed, as if pouting, though the opposite was true. A moment ago her eyes had lowered in prayer, but it was difficult to find any peace of mind now. Fuuta snapped and shouted as he paced the length of the cell bars. They were unlocked, but like the others, he didn’t feel like being out in front of everyone. He’d give his uniform a violent jerk every now and then, but it didn’t do any good. Between his strides and growls, he made Mahiru think of those poor wild animals they keep at the circus.
“Take it easy, Fuuta.” She mustered up a smile. “Come rest with us.”
“I can’t believe you two. You’re just gonna sit here and take it? I didn’t do a fucking thing! They’re acting like I’m some big danger to society,” he yanked his arms again, to no avail. “All I did was type some things onto a screen. I’m not gonna go around stabbing anyone or anything. And you, you didn’t hurt anyone either!”
He nodded his head to Mahiru. If her arms weren’t already folded over her chest, she would have hugged herself anyway. 
“Well… I did hurt him in the end… I broke his heart badly enough that… I mean, he…”
Fuuta made a disgusted sound. “That’s all stupid romance stuff. I’m saying, you never stabbed him. Never strangled him. Never poisoned his food, or –”
“Oh god, no! How horrible…”
“Exactly! From what we’ve heard, it sounds like Haruka killed someone with his bare hands. I think Muu had a knife or something. Shidou had a whole arsenal of grisly doctor tools. Kotoko has openly talked about how she beat that guy to death. Why are they allowed to walk free while we’re tied down like wild animals?”
Mahiru was glad she hadn’t mentioned the circus.
“And Amane! It’s not like she did anything violent, and here she is!”
“That is not true.”
Both paused as Amane spoke up for the first time. 
“Eh?”
“While I disagree with my verdict, the restraints make sense.” The others still stared blankly. As matter-of-fact as always, she continued. “I killed with my own hands. I used the amount of force I was instructed to. Just as the sinner fears the wrath of heaven, I can understand how the godless warden would fear my justice.”
Fuuta’s passion wavered, but Mahiru could feel her heart ache for the girl. “Oh Amane… I had no idea. To be pushed to the point of violence at your age…”
“I am not to be pitied. As I said, I am dangerous, and proud to be. I am doing god’s work. All heroes must be dangerous.”
Fuuta grunted, but said nothing. Mahiru gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not pity. Even if you were dangerous, it’s horrible to restrain someone like you. You’ve already had to brave so much, as the smallest of the bunch.”
She looked between the two. A sad laugh escaped her. “Now that I think of it, I guess we’re all the smallest here, hm? Aside from maybe Muu, we don’t have much height or strength on the others…”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Fuuta cried. “The fuck do they think we’re going to do?” Mahiru was just glad he’d focused on that rather than the fact she’d just called him weak. 
Voices raised in conversation down the hallway. Mikoto’s laugh echoed faintly into the cell.  
It warmed Mahiru to hear. Things had been so hard on him here. Though it had been frightening to hear him shouting at the restraints til his voice was raw – well, it wasn’t him shouting – it had been a relief when he appeared free and relaxed the following day. He seemed sheepish that he wasn’t able to help the others, having no memory of his escape. Mahiru just kept telling him how happy she was for him.
Fuuta didn’t share in the sentiment. “Meanwhile, Mikoto gets to stroll around free, and he beat the shit out of Es! He could snap and kill any one of us here, and they don’t even give a damn. But ooohhh, god forbid the guy who’s never been violent a day in his life is allowed to use his own two hands!”
The harshness of his voice wasn’t doing his argument many favors. Still, his words were beginning to get through to Mahiru. 
She’d worked so hard to be a model citizen. She was supposed to have a perfect life. She could cook, clean, sew, and take care of children. She did herself up every day; she was never a slob or a slut. She was generous to everyone she met. She showered the world around her in love. Wasn’t it unfair that her hands were tied like some common criminal? What was all that effort for – being patient when people upset her, being kind even when she disagreed with someone, all of that – if she was going to end up in the same place as someone who had stabbed another out of sheer malice?
Amane didn’t seem to be whirling with the same doubts. She closed her eyes once more. “It is simply a trial from heaven. We may be small, but all of us have an internal strength that will carry us through the ordeal.”
“I don’t think it’s any sort of religious thing, but you’re right,” Fuuta puffed his chest out. “Trials like this only make people stronger!” 
“Do you think so?” Mahiru wasn’t sure if she was asking either of them or just musing to herself. It was a nice thought. This was all part of destiny, something meant to be that would make her stronger in the end. 
But she wasn’t so sure she believed in destiny anymore. It hadn’t quite worked out the first time. 
“Hell yeah!” Fuuta must have assumed she was in fact asking him. He gave a wide, toothy grin. “It’s not like we can get any weaker, right? The warden better watch out next trial – they’ve got a big storm coming!”
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michiganmerchant · 1 year
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#one thing about me FOR SURE is anything rule 63 and lregnancy will have me honking like a geese in heat#just read what was supposed to be the first fic in a series of women in the nhl pregnancy series#but never got expounded upon :( oh no who will take this great and unecessary burden#i wonder WHO... anyways#thinking about exploring everything under the fucking sun#love me a good meditation on womanhood and relationships and what the nhl could look like in this speculative workd#LOVE ME THINKING ABOUT THE DIFFERENT DYNAMICS THAT ONLY EXIST AT THE TENSION OF PROFESSIONAL SPORTS AND ROMANCE#like brooo is professional sports not the most romantic thing ever#you see a thing and you dedicate your whole mind soul body to love it#like. ok now apply that to a sognificant other#now you're in a throuple situation being haunted by the oniprescent prescence of Big Sports#i'm not making any sense but anyways#leon/matthew -> getting knocked up by your FWB while wearing an A#jamie/trevor -> having a baby before we even admit we're in a relationship. also this is like. teen pregnancy help#brady/tim -> starting a family while being away from your own family :(#oh that one would HURT actually#matty/shane -> ooop fwb except you really wanna be a dad but i dont!#at this point i am also wanting to desparately dip my toes into the mo/dylan sandbox#because well. mixed media reaction to dulan's pregnancy and some key voicemails from JOHN#would be so tempting so delicious oh i'm starving#google drive#also i dont go here but boy have i been reading a lot of it#travis/nolan -> no one knows we're fucking and now we have to break the news of pur relationship and baby
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lovecrazedpup · 7 months
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when my friend is at work so i cant cry in call with him !
#ngl i genuinely cant find the energy to cry . im just making issues again man its so fucking stupid . i should just kill myself#he doesnt love me and he never will and hes fucking busy playing games with other people because im constantly crying and upset#and its like he doesnt care !!!!!! who do i even talk to anymore bc this is . awful#im trying so hard . i really am but fuck when everything is going through my mind its just#i just want to apologise forever but i dont know how to show that im actually sorry#like at least my ex was straight forward with how to apologise ?? it was just 'send me photos of your cuts and i know youre sorry'#but obviously i cant do that now LMAO#maybe its better if i just message out my thoughts and send them to him but its also like . its so obvious you dont want to talk to me#me : *nearly crying and about to try and explain why im going to kms* him : awful timing but i need to leave haha i will call you back ???#like im sorry but dont even bother calling me back :)#ive been clean for 8 days . its so pathetic#i dont want to hurt myself but i literally have nothing else to help me#i dont want to be a burden im trying rlly hard to just stop how i feel and im trying to be a perfect girlfriend who is only happy#but i just cant . it is so hard when all im thinking abt is how he hates me and how i mean nothing and how im always going to be worthless#i unironically miss when it was him being upset and talking to me abt it because i wasnt the one being emotional and vulnerable#like i was just there to help and make him feel better lol#i think ill be better after i cut bc thats what happened last time so#whatever we ball#jamie.txt
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shmpxx · 8 months
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CURSED SPIRIT — y.o
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⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
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Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
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fvsm4x · 6 months
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]
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SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+
NEXT
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„I think we should break up.“
Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.
“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.
Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.
A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.
As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.
But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.
How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?
But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.
And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”
You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.
“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”
You looked at him, surprised by his words.
“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”
As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.
You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.
As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.
Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.
As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."
His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.
As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.
He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.
"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,
With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.
As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.
-
In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.
In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.
It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.
What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.
Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.
The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.
But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.
His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.
To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.
Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.
However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.
As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.
But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.
Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.
Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.
However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.
Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.
And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.
And that's when you became a couple.
But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.
You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?
Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.
You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.
The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.
With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.
The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.
You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.
Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.
Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.
As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.
-
Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.
You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,
The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.
You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.
You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.
As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.
Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.
In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.
But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.
As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.
A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.
As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.
You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.
Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.
Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.
It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.
She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.
But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.
You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.
"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.
„It was an accident-“
He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“
„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke
„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"
Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.
Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.
You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.
„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.
Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.
With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.
„Call the manager.“
Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.
She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.
Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.
Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,
"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,
With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.
Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.
"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.
As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.
Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.
After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.
As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.
"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."
„Sure“ the girl replied.
-
Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.
As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.
“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”
The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”
Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.
“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”
The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.
Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.
Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.
A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,
“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?
“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.
“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.
“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.
“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”
“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,
“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.
“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.
“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,
His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."
Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"
Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.
A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."
„But-!“
„No buts.“
"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."
He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."
He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.
You nodded and followed after him.
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fxllfaiiry · 11 months
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─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.
✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.
✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!
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Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 
You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 
You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 
Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 
Like today, you got him some coffee. 
"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 
"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 
He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 
"This isn't how I like my coffee." 
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 
"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 
"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 
"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 
"Yeah?" 
"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 
"No."
"Sunflower…"
"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  
"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 
"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 
"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 
But, of course, you were wrong. 
Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 
Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 
If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 
"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 
"I was just tryin-" 
"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 
"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 
"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 
"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 
Don't cry. Don't cry. 
"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 
"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 
"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 
"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 
Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 
"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 
At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 
"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 
"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 
"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.
13K notes · View notes
onlyswan · 12 days
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summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.
idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k
warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3
> in which masterlist!
note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")
“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”
jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.
he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.
he gasps.
“baby, you’re alive!”
your swollen eyes flicker up to him.
you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.
“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”
you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.
he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.
the bathroom door opens and closes.
he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”
still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.
he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.
“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”
he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.
“baby? may i go in?”
he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.
huh? why is it locked?
you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.
“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”
with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.
he doesn’t go far, however.
only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.
“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”
he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.
“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”
he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.
“____!”
he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.
“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”
he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.
“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.
he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.
only after the first try, that much is clear.
and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.
the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.
when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.
the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.
there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.
his voice cracks, breathless.
“baby, no… no, no, no.”
he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.
keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.
he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.
“____, can you hear me?!”
his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.
he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.
“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.
he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.
“baby…”
he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.
almost.
at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.
“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.
for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”
he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.
he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.
once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.
any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.
if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.
but you’re not.
jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.
your body feels like it’s floating.
are you dreaming…?
you must be dreaming.
you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.
the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.
your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.
you want to sleep a little more.
you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.
you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?
just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.
jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.
it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.
“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”
“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”
you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.
“ah, i should call the doctor.”
but his face remains buried in your hair.
“they told me to do so.”
“you should-”
“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”
“chill. you said that they told you to.”
“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”
he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.
you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”
fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.
“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”
“i love you more.”
you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.
his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“bam!”
oh, right. your child.
“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.
you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”
you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?
“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”
the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.
is there any other building sadder than this?
if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?
if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.
you see love in every place that you step foot into.
his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.
not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.
he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.
how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.
“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”
his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.
in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.
he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.
how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.
“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”
“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”
“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”
“not at all. don’t worry.”
you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”
“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”
he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”
you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.
if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.
“how was the doctor?”
“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”
you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”
he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”
“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”
“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.
he heaves a sigh.
“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”
the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.
“you’re right. i’m sorry.”
“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”
you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”
your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.
“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”
“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”
your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?
“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.
his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.
“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”
you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.
“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”
and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.
“what do they need that for?!”
he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.
“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”
“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.
“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”
you grimace. “am i scary?”
“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”
as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.
“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.
your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.
“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”
“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”
“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”
“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.
you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.
jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.
“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.
he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.
“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”
he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.
“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”
with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”
“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.
silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.
you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”
“few? you mean a loooot?”
“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”
“you told me you wanted the service bell!”
you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.
did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?
perhaps.
“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”
“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”
his lover?
jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.
“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”
a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.
“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”
“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”
you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.
“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”
you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.
“eeeee!”
he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.
“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.
left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.
“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.
he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.
this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.
with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.
“okay, spit.”
you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.
“ahhhh-”
“this is embarrassing!”
“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”
and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.
“see? was that so bad?”
as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.
“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.
you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.
“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”
“it’s your fault.”
you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.
“you’re so sweet.”
the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.
“am i making you sad?”
you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.
“no?”
“no!”
“okay, come here then.”
he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.
“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”
“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”
“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.
“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.
“what…?”
“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”
you pout. “are you really?”
“oh, come onnnn.”
he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.
“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”
to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.
you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.
“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”
his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”
“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”
“did you not hurt yourself?”
“me?”
“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”
you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.
“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”
that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.
“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”
“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”
“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”
he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.
“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”
“i guess that’s fine.”
it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.
from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”
as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.
“baby, someone can enter any minute.”
“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.
you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.
“i’m curious about another thing.”
“what’s that?”
“did you cry?”
he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.
“almost…”
“why almost?”
“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.
you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”
“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”
“ow-”
your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.
“red panda!”
a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.
“i want one so fucking bad.”
the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”
jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.
“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”
“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.
his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.
“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”
“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”
she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.
“you look adorable sleeping.”
“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”
he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.
your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”
“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”
“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”
she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?
“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”
you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.
“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”
she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.
“you know where this goes.”
she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.
“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”
“it’s fine. thank you.”
not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.
“i’ll draw your blood now.”
the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.
another one, jungkook laments inside.
“____, i’m right here.”
you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”
“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”
you take a sharp inhale.
if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.
“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”
really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.
“hey, baby. look at the tv.”
the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.
“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”
“of course!”
that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.
“all done. you can go back to resting.”
“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.
“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”
“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”
“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.
the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”
“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”
“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”
“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”
“i won’t!”
“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”
“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”
“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”
the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.
uh-oh.
“did she seriously wink while saying that?”
“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”
“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.
“right?!”
he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.
“that was weird.”
“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”
“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”
you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”
“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”
“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”
“and so what?”
he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.
“i’m obviously yours.”
but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.
“it’s so annoying.”
the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.
“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”
it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.
“i love you.”
almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.
“no, there’s no need for that.”
but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.
“are you sure?”
“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”
of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.
“and how will you do that?”
“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”
“come up with what?”
to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.
“mom…?”
you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.
“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.
“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”
“but you don’t have to because you have us.”
jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.
her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.
“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”
“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”
jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.
“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”
“it’s not only because i’m worried!”
she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.
“then what else?”
“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”
did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.
“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”
you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.
“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”
“does my son feed you well?”
“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”
you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.
“is that so?”
you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.
“mhmm!”
perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.
“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”
“what could that be?”
“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”
because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.
she utters your name sadly.
“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”
she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.
“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”
“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”
“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”
because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.
“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”
you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.
“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”
you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.
“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”
“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”
if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.
you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”
what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.
“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”
“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”
she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.
“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”
the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.
“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”
“thank you…”
“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”
she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.
“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.
“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”
you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.
the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.
you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.
you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.
at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.
your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.
“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.
you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.
you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?
“baby!”
you look behind to search for the source of the sound.
you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.
you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.
you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.
oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.
you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.
god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.
a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.
“i committed another crime for you today.”
“huh?”
your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.
hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?
“what did you do?”
his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.
…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.
you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.
“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”
“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”
“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”
he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.
as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.
“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”
“are you crazy?!”
the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”
“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.
you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.
seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.
passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.
how fucking great.
“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.
“a-ah, yes.”
you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.
“i will check your temperature too.”
“go on.”
you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.
“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”
jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.
“i wanted to smell the rain.”
“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”
you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”
you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.
“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”
“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”
“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”
“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.
so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.
“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”
his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.
“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”
“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”
“i feel fine though?”
“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”
seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.
but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.
“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.
“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”
your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”
you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.
“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”
“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”
“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”
you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”
damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?
were you serious about the no kiss rule?
“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”
“you want to see me that furious again?”
“never in my wildest dreams.”
he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.
“here, have some more cake.”
he offers you a spoonful of cake.
no, it’s bigger.
as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.
you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.
oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.
your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.
also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.
“your nails look pretty.”
he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.
“your mom did them for me.”
“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”
the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.
“did you choose white?”
“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”
oh, that makes total sense.
“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”
“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.
his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.
“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”
“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”
your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.
“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”
the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.
“i’m so happy with what we have.”
you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.
could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?
“is there anything else i could assist you with?”
and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.
“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.
he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.
“please come to our wedding.”
the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.
he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”
the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.
before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.
your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.
damn it, you wish she was also here for that.
“you haven’t stopped smiling.”
“you love me and you never let me forget that.”
you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.
you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.
jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.
“i’m so lucky. i love you.”
you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.
“i love you too.”
he cries infront of you.
almost.
he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.
you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?
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