Jack Barakat Imagines

You're a Princess

Hi, I love your blog so freakin' much, can you do one where you grew up with a really shitty mum and one day she upsets you real bad so you go round to Jack's cause he's your boyfriend and he's just really cute and you're crying a lot and he takes you to bed to cuddle and he tells you a story where you're a princess? Just reallllly fluffy and nice please?

AN Hey guys! How're you guys doing so far? So I've uploaded another one when I said I was going to, yay! There's no text message for this one, but there is Jack, so enjoy reading I love youuuu xx

Your POV

"Why do you have to fuck up everything you do?!" my mother screams at me for the umpteenth time. I've lost count.

I didn't respond, I just stood there with tears running down my cheeks.

"It seriously wasn't that hard! Are you stupid or just stubborn? What did I do to get such a stupid fucking kid!"

My heart was beating in my chest at a million times a minute. How have I not died yet with this constantly getting in my way. I'm so fucking done with this shit right now. But of course I say nothing. I just sit there. Like always.

"Are you not going to talk again? Great, making me look like the bad guy. As always." She sighed and turned around to finish the job I was apparently too stupid to do.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stay here, not with her in this godforsaken place, I couldn't go anywhere else, it'd just make things worse. But did I care? The problem was figuring out whether or not I'd let myself care.

"See this is why your father left," she told me, while scrubbing the dish. That did it. I'm not staying here anymore. I can't fucking take it.

I still say nothing, and instead I'm sobbing quietly. I don't say goodbye as I run. I hadn't decided to where I was running to. But I knew I had to get out of there. Tears were flying past my cheeks in the wind and I wished more than anything to have some music with me right now. It would really help.

I stopped running to catch my breath, and think for a bit at what else would help. My mind instantly goes to Jack, my boyfriend. He can always cheer me up, or at least put a smile on my face. He knew of my emotionally abusive mother, but I don't think it's ever got this bad.

I take off running towards his house. It surprised me how much ran, but I guess when your body is pumped with adrenaline you can do a lot of things you didn't think you'd be able to do.

When I get to Jack's place, lean over to catch my breath while resting my elbows on my knees. I honestly can't believe I'm all the way here. I'm still crying, I haven't stopped. Her words kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind.

I knocked on the door almost frantically and Jack answered it rather quickly. "Y/N," he observed, surprised. "What're you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" I manage to choke out between the gasping for air and sniffling.

He stood aside for me to walk through. I came in and collapsed on his couch. "Are you okay? Do you want some food? I can make you some waffles."

"I'm okay, thanks," I gasp. The advantage of me running was that I didn't have enough air to burst out sobbing. The disadvantage was that it was running.

He shrugs and pushes his hair out of his face with his hand. He comes over to me on the couch and sits next to me. He places a hand on my stomach as it's rising and falling abruptly. I move my hand to his and squeeze it.

When my breaths steady themselves, the tears come back. "Whoa, are you sure you're okay?" Jack asks, his face now closer to mine.

"I never said I was," I mumbled between sniffles.