Request: Would you be able to do a Joe imagine where you’ve had a miscarriage and you’re really upset and are avoiding everyone? X
WARNING: MISCARRIGES INCLUDED. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO THE TOPIC.
“We cannot detect a heartbeat.” The nurse informed you and your boyfriend, Joe. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” You cried tears falling freely down your face. Joe pulled you into his chest but you pushed him away with all the strength you could muster.
“Y/N?” He whispered gently his eyes filling up.
“Leave me alone.” You sobbed. Joe nodded and left the room. You couldn’t believe this had happened; you were thirteen weeks in and everything was all good. You had regular scans and you had always received positive feedback.
imagine a pocket-sized you collecting a few mini marshmallows in your arms and walking over to place them in the silver spoon lying next to yoongi’s cup of hot cocoa. you place the middle of the spoon on top of the thick portion of a butter knife so that the spoon’s handle sticks up in the air, and then you prepare to jump onto the handle to catapult the marshmallows into yoongi’s cup.
as you take your place by the upturned handle, yoongi smirks, unconvinced that your marshmallows will get very far. he continues to tease you and fails to notice how you chuckle darkly and discreetly readjust the angle of the spoon. yoongi is still snickering when you leap up and onto the handle. the mini marshmallows fly out of the spoon and pelt min yoongi right in his smug little face.
yoongi freezes, blinking in shock, but a second later he scrunches up his face and dramatically cries out, falling out of his chair and eventually curling up on the kitchen floor. he looks up at you and gasps, “i’m sorry. i love you. forgive me. shit-” and then collapses in a heap.
1. I can’t stop screaming and my lungs are on fire but where are you?
3. It hurts until it doesn’t but it hurts so goddamn bad and the room hasn’t stopped spinning since you left. That’s why I’m throwing up so why are you kissing her?
5. I called you so i could hear your voice but your voice made the sand in my bones turn to glass and I can’t stop bleeding
7. Maybe I’ll always love you
maybe I’ll get drunk
9. I’m so numb that my fingers have been falling off and I haven’t cried in two weeks and your face is blurred in my memories
I guess being brain dead has its perks
11. I see you kissing her and I’m so fucking glad its not me- I’d hate to be the one that has to wash your god awful taste out of my mouth
Warnings: fluff Rating: everyone Summary:evanssaysrawr requested for daddy Chris :) Y/N = your name ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previous Part
Plenty of time, my ass. You kinda knew it was coming. You just didn’t really dwell on the thought. That was, until the test showed up as positive, and then you knew it for sure. You and Chris were financially stable and perfectly ready to have a baby. You were both overjoyed that you were pregnant, and those 9 months flew by like nothing. Chris proposed to you by the time you were 1 month pregnant so that you were at least something official-er than boyfriend and girlfriend.
Chris was there with you through it all, and when a beautiful baby boy arrived - who, I should also mention, had his father’s eyes - Chris started crying. Man tears, just letting a couple fall down his face. He laughed while he cried, and when you handed the baby to him, he was shaking. “Hey there, son,” he whispered, then paused. “I can’t believe that you’re my son, and I’m a dad…” He looked over to you, smiling, and back to the baby, “we made you.” * Taking care of the baby was no easy task. He did what all babies do; eat, cry, poop, sleep and cry. Chris proved to be extremely helpful - changing diapers, entertaining him, taking him out, bathing him… He was an expert at being a dad.
One night, you’d all sat together on the couch, cuddling each other, watching TV. Chris had his legs outstretched on the coffee table and had his arm around you. You were holding a sleepy one-year-old Tom, cradling him in your arms. Chris kissed the top of your head, and let his head rest on yours, which was comfortably sat on his shoulder.
Tom must have become jealous from you getting all of the attention from Daddy, because he started blubbering, getting ready to cry. “Shhhh, Tommy, honey, look, Mommy and Daddy are here,” you said soothingly, rocking him back and forth. He started wailing loudly but you didn’t know what to do because you’d fed him half an hour prior.
“Here, give him to me,” Chris said, reaching for the baby. “Look, Tommy, it’s Daddy,” you said as you handed him to Chris.
Chris stood up, holding Tom against his chest and hushing and soothing him. He went out of the room, presumably to take the baby to his bedroom so that he could sleep. The baby’s cries quietened down after a while so you went upstairs to check up on him and Chris.
From the landing, you could hear a distinct sound of singing. Quietly, you opened the door to Tom’s bedroom. Chris’ voice was gentle, calming - he was singing Tom to sleep. Your eyes filled with tears quickly from the exceeded amount of awe, so you went and wrapped your arms around Chris’ broad shoulders from behind. It felt as if your heart was going to burst from how adorably amazing this all was to you.
Chris finished his song and kissed your hands before standing back up from his chair. You both took turns in kissing Tom’s forehead and left to go to your own bedroom. After cleaning up in the bathroom together, you climbed into bed.
“I honestly don’t know how you do it…you work magic, Chris. It’s like you were made to be a dad.”
He scoffed, “It’s nothing…it’s cause he’s a boy. If we had a girl, then she’d obviously want to stick to you more than me.”
“No, honestly. Babies are babies, it doesn’t matter what sex they are. Usually mothers have to take care of children and do everything around the house while the fathers work…but you? You’re special. You help me do everything. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.”
“Gender equality’s a thing.”
“Shut up…you know what I’m trying to say.”
“Hmmm, I know. I love you, Y/N,” he said, kissing your neck.
“I love y-”
“SHHHHHH,” he pressed his finger to your lips and lifted his head. You could hear the sound of the baby crying so you tried to get up and go and tend to him but Chris pushed you back down and said, “I’ll do it.”
Tom stopped crying as soon as Chris walked into his room. It’s like he has fucking powers. Chris walked into your bedroom 5 minutes later with Tom in his arms. Chris’ eyes were wide and round, and it looked as if Tom was kissing his lips. “HEWP,” he managed to say, his voice a little strange. You looked at him in confusion but realised he meant ‘help’. “He won- le- goh,” Chris said, and came and sat on the bed so you could look to see what was going on.
You laughed loudly when you saw that Tom was needily sucking on Chris’ bottom lip, hoping to get some milk. Chris must’ve tried to kiss the child goodnight before getting stuck in this crisis. Chris leaned against the pillows and let Tom lie on his chest, still sucking away. You tried to gently detach Tom from Chris’ lip. The baby wouldn’t let go whatever you did.
After 10 minutes, Chris gave up, “Jus leab him be. He’ll le- goh when he’s tire- ou-.” So that’s what you did; left the baby to tire out and let go. When he finally did, one side of Chris’ lip was not only swollen, but purple, too.
You laughed, “Chris…oh my gosh…”
“You look like you have lip fillers!” You spluttered.
“Would I suit lip fillers?” He joked, biting the side of his lip that wasn’tswollen and winked.
“Pfff. No. You look most beautiful when you’re in your natural state,” you said matter-of-factly.
“So not even photoshop can make me handsome?”
“Nope. You look more handsome in real life than they make you in those magazines. I love you the way you are - even if it means that you have a swollen purple mess of a bottom lip.”
He pulled you down into a kiss - carefully, not only because Tom was squirming around on his belly, but cause of his lip, too - and kissed you lovingly.
“I never finished,” you said, “I love you, Christopher. Not just cause you make me feel all mushy inside when I’m around you, not cause you’re an amazing daddy to this kiddo,” you placed a gentle hand on Tom’s soft hairy head, “but cause you’re an outrageously great person - everything about you I love. I’m really grateful to the be the one you chose to spend your life with.”
“Stop it!” He laughed, wiping a tear away. “Stop making me cry! I’m meant to be a grown-ass man!” He laughed a little more but then said, “You don’t know how much I love you, Y/N. You’re a part of me; irreplaceable. I know we’re not meant to be speaking about such things in the presence of our little man here,” he gestured to Tom, “but he won’t understand. So, I’ll go and put him to sleep, and when I come back, I expect you to be ready to go all night.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“I could go all night, don’t worry. We wake up plenty of times every night anyway cause of Tom, so if any of your friends ask about you being tired tomorrow, just say you had to take care of him.”
Chris tilted his head to the side in question, “Oh? You’ve been planning on doing this? How long have you been planning, exactly?”
“A while…you know…kids can a handful sometimes.”
Chris turned to the baby, “Tom’s not a handful, are you, buddy? I was kinda hoping to try for another one soon.”
Song-fic. Based off of: My Own Worst Enemy by Lit.
Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn’t mean to call you that I can’t remember what was said or what you threw at me Please tell me…
“What did you just call me?” Her voice was raised, anger surging through her as she turned to the boy she once loved, tears in her eyes.
“I called you a -” He barely ducked as she chucked the ceramic bowl at his head, letting it shatter against the wall as he stared at her with wide eyes. “Are you crazy?” He screamed but ducked again as she began to throw whatever she could at his head.
“How dare you!” She shouted, her words rolling off her tongue like venom. “All I ever did, all I’ve ever done was love you but apparently that’s not good enough. I’m not good enough.” She cried, face falling into her hands once she’d run out of things to throw.
“You’re crazy. Actually crazy.” He spoke up, eyes still distant from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
“At least I don’t call my girlfriend horrible things every time I get drunk. At least I treat you with respect when you treat me like a maid.” She retorted, watching the way he stared through he like she wasn’t even there. She nodded, her answer clear on what she needed to do. She turned on her heel, walking into the bedroom that she shared with the boy she once loved.
Please tell me why my car is in the front yard, And I’m sleeping with my clothes on I came in through the window last night And you’re gone, gone
The next day she was gone, at work he assumed. He was nursing a major hangover, doing mundane things that left the house in a mess. He left for the bar with his friends that night five minutes before she got home.
She ignored the mess, it was too much for one person to clean and she wanted to sleep but he was gone and now was the time. She took his keys, pulling his car into the front yard so she could get her car to back all the way in. She threw clothes into a suitcase, packing the things that were hers into a few boxes before giving up and just putting whatever she wanted or needed into the car unceremoniously.
She slid into the front seat of her car and she knew she should have been crying. She should have felt anything but she was far too numb. How did this happen? How did he change from the man who used to promise her the world into the man who tore her apart with just his words?
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose before starting her car and driving away from the house she once shared with the boy she loved.
He came home, too drunk to care that the front door was locked and that he had to climb through the window that was left open in the kitchen, too drunk to notice her clothes missing and her favourite pillow no longer on the bed. He didn’t realize until he woke up.
“Y/N?” He croaked. It was a Saturday and she didn’t work on Saturdays. “Babe?” He questioned, going to grab a sweatshirt to keep himself warm. Why was the house so cold? He froze in the doorway of the closet. It was half empty, some of the things she couldn’t wear anymore piled on the floor. “What the-,” The bathroom was the same. The kitchen, the bookshelves in the living room, the movie cabinet. All half empty. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t understand. “No, no, no, no.” He picked up the phone, ignoring the pounding in his head and the fact that he was cold because of the window open in the kitchen that he vaguely remembered crawling through.
“The number you have reached is no longer in servi-,” He didn’t let the automated voice finish before he was throwing the phone at the wall, watching the pieces shatter just like his heart. He’d messed up. He knew this was his fault. He put his head in his hands, leaning against the wall as he slid down to the floor opposite the glass and plastic of the landline.
She had told him what he was like when he was drunk. Words that he would never mean spilling from his lips, anger from past problems resurfacing as he took them out on her. He had promised to stop drinking, or to at least slow down but it took the edge off the stress, the edge off the pressure. And he let himself take it out on the best thing he’d ever had.
It’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy ‘Cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me The smoke alarm is going off, and there’s a cigarette Still burning
He found her. It was two years later but he found her. She was sitting in a booth of a café, book in hand. He remembers loving seeing her like that. Her hair in her face, eyes lit up as she read the words so meticulously written, so delicately intricate. He took a drag of the cigarette between his fingers, a habit he’d been unsuccessful in kicking as he took her in. She was still just as beautiful as the day he met her and he was still just as big of a mess. He got up the nerve, he was going to at least say hello but as the cigarette fell to the ground, his boot raising to stomp it out, a man slid in front of her. His eyes were soft, gentle as he reached out to take a copy of the same book from in front of her, his other hand reaching for hers. She smiled at him, bright and loving as she leaned to press a kiss to his lips across the table.
His heart should have shattered just like it did all those years ago. But something can’t shatter if it’s already in pieces. He couldn’t say anything now. Not when she was happy. Not when she was smiling like that, in a way he’d never be able to make her. He turned on his heel as she lifted her head after getting the feeling of someone watching her. He wanted to be sad, to be angry but he couldn’t. He had no one to be angry at but himself. It wasn’t her fault, it had never been her fault that he was so screwed up, that he couldn’t realize what he had. A small coin fell from his pocket as he walked away, disappearing through the crowd.
She had looked up just in time. A second later and she would have missed him. She would have known him anywhere. You never forget your first love. It was like a dream, catching his hazel eyes for a moment to short as he turned, walking away from her like she had done walked away from him those many years ago. She didn’t want him back, even though she’d thought for so long that she had. No, she didn’t deserve the way he treated her. But you don’t just stop caring about someone and she had always wondered what had happened to the boy she had loved so dearly. She was happy now, a wonderful job, a wonderful soon-to-be-husband, a wonderful life and she had always hoped the same for him. She needed to know.
Her boyfriend did nothing more than give her a curious look as she made her way to the entrance as her book shut her page unmarked. She liked that about him. He let her do whatever she wanted, no questions asked. She pushed open the door, the wind whipping back her jacket as she tugged it tighter to her body.
She knew the boy was no longer there, that he was long gone within the crowd. She wasn’t quite sure why she came out, until the smell of a lit cigarette hit her nose. She glanced to where he had been standing, noticing a barely burning cigarette in his place but it was the coin beside it that caught her attention.
She picked up the bronze token with cold fingers, reading the words engraved.
To thine own self be true. 2 years recovery.
A teary-eyed smile made it’s way to her face as she glanced into the busy street, a part of her hoping she would see the mess of curls but another glad she didn’t. Maybe they weren’t the forever that they were hoping for, maybe they weren’t the happily ever after they had once dreamed. Maybe they were tragic, doomed from the start but she had impacted his life in a way no one would ever understand. She had saved him from just a little piece of himself and she knew that it was all going to be alright. He’d find someone someday that would help him save himself in his entirety. He’d find his fairytale just like she’d found hers.
The boy she loved was no longer a boy, but a man. Letting a tear run down her wind reddened cheeks, she put the heel of her boot on the cigarette letting the fire burn out.
I am so proud of this and I have no idea where this came from but I hope you liked it.
Dean sat there, staring at the door you had walked out hours ago and he still couldn’t believe it. He just let you walk away, he let the love of his life turn her back and out the door. It was all his fault that you left, you saw another woman kissing him which was the breaking point for you. You and Dean never did have a healthy relationship, always fighting and accusing, but you did love each other a lot.
He mutters tears falling down his face. He had never cried over a woman before, but it was different because you were the reason behind his tears.
He thought about why he hadn’t stopped you and should have explained that it was all a mistake and that he loved you. But he didn’t, he just watched as you let out a muffled goodbye and walked out that door.
Putting his head in his hands, his mind drifts off to all the memories you had together.
He thought about the first time you met, you had been walking by yourself in the rain after a bad break up and Dean had came to your rescue bringing you out of the rain and into dry clothes. He charmed you right away, earning him a date soon after.
He thought about your first date, it had turned out a disaster at the beginning. The Impala broke down on the side of the road and while waiting for help, the two of you laid across the hood and gazed up at the stars.
He thought about the first time he told you that he loved you, it was your first hunt and you had gotten hurt by a werewolf. While tending to your wounds, he explained that he never wanted anything bad to happen to you because he loved you.
He thought about the time he broke down and you promised to never leave him. Dean scoffed at that memory, she obviously did not keep that promise.
He now was angry at the memories and wanted to do anything to make them go away. He gets up from the chair he was sitting at and walked into the kitchen, getting himself a glass and some whiskey.
He was going to drink your memory away.
One glass turned into three and three turned into seven, though the alcohol wasn’t keeping the pain away from him.
Dean yells out and throws the glass at the wall, it shatters into pieces on to the ground. He slides down to the ground and covers his face with his hands, sobbing. He had lost you and there wasn’t anything he could do now.
He loved you so much and he could never be the same now.
The sound of footsteps in the kitchen perks his ears up, had you come back? The footsteps stopped in front of him and he opened his eyes to see his brother.
“What happened? Where’s (Y/N)?” Sam questions in confusion.
“She’s gone, Sammy.” Dean whimpers, “She’s gone.”
Sam watched as his brother sobbed over you and knew that there was nothing he could do to make Dean feel better. You were gone and Dean was not going to forget about that anytime soon.
Whenever Francis tells or texts or writes Arthur ‘I love you’, Arthur pouts and tells him 'I love you more’. So Francis proceeds to smirk and tell him 'Non, /I/ love you more.“ But Arthur cups Francis’ face, looks him dead in the eye, and tells him. "That’s nonsense. /I/ love you more and I am not arguing over this matter. Accept it or sod off.”
Isabelle’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding in her chest. She sat up, staring into the darkness, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t feel completely in reality yet, a part of her was still in the dream. A part of her still felt the fear and the despair. A lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t push back the tears threatening to fall down her face. She dug her face into a pillow and quietly cried, trying to control as much of the sound as possible, not wanting to disturb Alan.
After a while, Isabelle ran out of energy to continue crying. Her uneven breathing slowed to a regular pattern. But as she looked around the dark room, she felt alone, so alone. She needed someone with her. She couldn’t take being in her room anymore. She jumped out of bed and quietly rushed to Alan’s room. Her footsteps were nearly silent as she walked into his room. She got into his bed and scooted close to him, wanting to feel his warmth, his chest slowly moving up and down. She put the blanket around her and stared at nothing, waiting for her body to be so exhausted and fall asleep.