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komoreangel · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

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bonnymori · 3 years

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𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Clean

As Spencer struggles to overcome his dilaudid addiction, Y/N is dealing with an addiction of her own, to her toxic, manipulative boyfriend. This is an account of a full year, following their joint journeys to sobriety and new love.

A/N: Hi!! I have another Taylor Swift inspired Spencer Reid one shot (but of course you do not need to know the song to understand the one shot). Although originally I was going to write something more fluffy, I switched to this song to write something more angsty and interesting. However, to change pace from my last one shot, this one has a much happier, hopeful ending. However, it is very triggering so please read the trigger warnings before you start. Also, if you have any songs you want to read please let me know!! Also, if you just have a general request please send it my way! Thank you so much for the love on my All Too Well one shot, I never thought my first fanfic on here would be so well received!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: Angst, but hopeful angst

Word Count: 7.6K

Content Warnings: Cursing, mentally and physically abusive relationship, relationship cheating (ie, reader is being cheated on), blood and cuts description, drug addiction (these parts are kept short purposefully), lots of fighting and yelling both in reader’s relationship and between Spencer and reader, however, there is a happy and hopeful ending. Reader is struggling to get out of her toxic relationship, please no comments about her being stupid. If you are in a situation like Y/N, please don’t use this fic as a guide. Get help immediately. https://www.thehotline.org/

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments, the time and date headers serve as time skips :) let me know what you think! Please request any songs you would like to see be made one shots!

“You're still all over me Like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore Hung my head as I lost the war And the sky turned black like a perfect storm”

3:27 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You have known Spencer for a long time. In fact, you’ve known him longer than you’ve known Randall, and you’ve felt like you’ve known Randall your entire life.

Maybe that’s because you let him become your entire life.

Still, although you had known Spencer for 7 years, 2 years longer than the entirety of your on again, off again relationship with Randall. You still felt weird calling him. He was going through a lot right now, not that he wasn’t normally. Spencer had one of the most difficult jobs you could think of. You know Spencer has shot and killed people before, and you know every time he did it ate him up inside.

And every time he did he called you.

You also knew that Spencer is one of the kindest people you have ever met, you struggle to imagine him wielding a gun on a daily basis. He just seems too sweet, too perfect.

Yet there was a lot you didn’t know about the young genius.

You have no idea that as you stand in the street, contemplating whether you should call Spencer to come and get you, Spencer is making a difficult decision of his own. As you worry about the possibility of waking Spencer up this early in the morning, Spencer sits wide awake and ponders if he has enough time to get high before he has to leave for work in 3 hours.

As you sit on the side of the road, debating between your very few options, Spencer leads up against the side of his bathtub tears pouring down his cheeks, tears that he doesn’t even register as being there.

Fortunately for the both of you, at the same time Spencer reaches into his bag to search for that tiny glass bottle, his phone begins to ring.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You sigh, “He kicked me out again Spencer, is there anyway you can come get me?”

Spencer looks around his apartment, frantically hiding the belt and the needles he had gotten out for the events he was anticipating. “Yeah, of course I can come get you, um, just give me a couple minutes and send me your location.”

3:52 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of Spencer’s car, both of you sitting in silence. This situation isn’t new to either of you, Spencer has picked you up plenty of times before, in fact he’s done it for years now. One time, about 3 years into your relationship with Randall, you were permitted to go out by yourself with Spencer’s team, they wanted to meet you, apparently Spencer talked about you all the time. While you were at dinner with them, Morgan asked you if you had a car of your own. You explained that you did, but that your boyfriend had it a majority of the time, and that when he didn’t he hated you using it because you always had to mess with everything. He hates you touching his stuff. Morgan made a weird face about that answer, so you quickly followed up, explaining that you didn’t mind.

You do mind though. You hate how he never lets you touch anything or go anywhere, and you hate how much he despises your only form of transportation.

Spencer.

Randall hates everything about Spencer Reid, and he especially hates seeing his car pull into your driveway. That’s why after the 8th time he kicked you out, you started walking half a mile to the nearest gas station before calling Spencer.

The first time Spencer came to get you Randall came out to talk to you before you left.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“It’s Spencer, he’s gonna take me to his apartment.” you explained, confused why Randall was so angry you were leaving when he was the one who had kicked you out.

“Oh so just because I don’t want to look at your bitchass all night that means you can go sleep with another man? I knew you were a whore Y/N. You know him and his stupid fucking car aren’t going to be able to deal with you the way I can. How old is that thing anyway?”

“Randall, calm down, I’m not sleeping with Spencer. I love you, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. But I’m not gonna sit out here all night, where else should I go?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so quick to whore yourself out to the easiest man you could find I would invite you back inside,” he said before slamming the door in your face.

So you got in Spencer’s car, the one Randall would grow to hate so much.

“Are you okay Y/N? He didn’t hit you did he? You know you can come live with me, you should really get out of that house, I can get Morgan tomorrow and we can go get your belongings. I have plenty of-”

You snapped at him, “No Spencer he’s not hitting me! Why do you always jump to that conclusion, Randall is a great guy! I would’ve never called you if you were going to jump to conclusions like this. You’re supposed to be a genius, yet you’re acting like such a dumb ass right now.”

Spencer looked at you, and immediately you regretted your words. You knew Spencer was just worried about you and with his line of work he had reason to be. However before you could apologize he spoke again.

“I’m sorry Y/N, forget I said anything.”

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you even knew what to say, and yet all you could think of was, “Hey Spence, what kind of car do you drive?”

He smiled, “It’s a 1965 Volvo Amazon P130 122S, it’s horizon blue, that’s the color they refer to it as. Did you know they’re known as so reliable that the 4 door models are still used as police vehicles in some places. This one’s a two door, but still runs great. . . “

You smiled, how fitting a man as reliable as Spencer Reid had the perfect car to match.

When you get to Spencer’s apartment something seems off. Spencer has always lived in organized chaos, but this just feels different. Unlike his normal mess, this one feels like a blatant disregard for his things, even some of his most prized possessions. His books are strewn across the floors, his clothes overflowing from his laundry basket, which was a mix of both folded, clean, yet to be put away things and worn items. Weirdly, the one place that looks untouched is his kitchen, as if he hasn’t used it in months. And you mean that in the most literal interpretation, his counters are covered in visible, undisturbed dust.

“Thank you so much Spencer, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He smiles, but his eyes look so tired. “Don’t worry about it Y/N.”

And at 4:47, you finally fall asleep in Spencer’s bedroom, which he insists you take, and he stays awake until he leaves for work just a few hours later.

9:33 PM, April 17th, 2007.

You leave Spencer’s apartment the following night, after an unfortunate screaming match with him. You have never seen him so angry, so easily ticked off. Yet as soon as Randall called you Spencer became aggressive.

“Yeah babe, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll take a cab and be home within the hour. Of course I’m not mad at you sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean it. I love you, see you soon.”

Spencer exitted his kitchen in a huff, and opened his mouth to start talking before you spoke up.

“I’m sure you’ve overheard already, but Randall’s letting me back in the house. Thank you so much Spence. I really appreciate everything you do to help me. Call me soon please, I definitely owe you lunch,” you said, grabbing your coat and your phone, the only things you had managed to grab from your home before your unplanned eviction.

“Why do you even stay with him Y/N? Why do you keep going back there?” Spencer yelled. You had never seen him like this before, so livid and irritable.

“I love him Spence, and he loves me,” you explained, and you were telling the truth. You do love Randall, and you know that in his heart he loves you too, even if he got a little angry sometimes.

“If he loved you he wouldn’t treat you like this Y/N! Don’t you think I would know? I see this everyday! It’s my job! And yet my best friend is too stupid to realize she’s been in an abusive relationship for almost 6 years!”

You were just as angry now, “You’re wrong Spencer, I don’t wanna hear this okay? I love Randall and he loves me. We deserve each other.”

Spencer’s face softened before growing angry once more, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you Spencer, I’m going home. I don’t need you and I don't need your help,” you said, grabbing your things and slamming the door open. You were lying, you need Spencer and you need his help more than anything, but you didn’t want to admit that while he was being such a dick.

“Fine!” he yelled, “Go run back to him then, but you better not call me when he kicks you out again. I don’t care anymore!”

And so you left, Spencer slammed the door behind you as you stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t stop to think about the fact that Spencer never acts like this. He has never lashed out at you, never questioned your relationship with Randall to your face, let alone scream at you and insult you because of it. You didn’t stop and think about what Spencer was on, or not on, that was making his act like this.

But you thought about it now.

You want to get home before Randall starts to get upset and suspicious, but now after your fight with Spencer you have to walk home. You couldn’t ask him to borrow cash for a cab, let alone ask him to drive you there. You were stuck walking, which also meant you were stuck with Randall’s wrath when you returned.

You already feel terrible about the way you treated Spencer. You think about going to apologize, and stand in front of the door for a second, weighing the pros and cons of doing so. Eventually, you go to turn away, ultimately deciding that you both needed to calm down before speaking to each other again.

Yet as you turn, the door opens. Spencer stands right there, strangely calm, seemingly out of it. All fury and anger you had seen just minutes before gone. In this moment he resembles Randall, and it's the first time you’ve ever been able to draw any comparison to the two.

It’s scary.

“Spencer I-” but you get cut off, not by words, but by an object. Before you can even register what was just thrown in your face the door is closed again. You duck down to grab what was thrown.

Twenty dollars.

For the cab ride home.

1:34 AM, April 23rd, 2007.

You light the final candle on your dining room table, before stepping back to admire your work. Randall always came home so late from work, so you rarely ate dinner together. But today was your anniversary, so you stayed up late, prepared his favorite meal and set up all of your fancy dinnerware so that you could have a very late dinner together before he goes to bed and you go to work. He should be home any minute now.

Yet 3 hours later Randall is not back. You’re just about to cut your losses and call it a night, and start to clean up the melted down candles and cold steak dinner as you hear your front door open.

“Y/N! What are you doing still awake?”

“Do you know what day it is Randall? Because I do.”

He looks down at his watch, checks the time, and looks back up at you, “Well it is now 3:57 AM, meaning it is now Monday. Which is why I’m curious as to what you’re still doing up sweetheart, you have to be at work in 3 hours.” “There’s something special about THIS Monday Randall,” you sigh, you’re disappointed but not surprised, this has happened for the past 3 years.

“Do you have a project going on at work baby? You know I can’t keep track of all that crap, your job is so silly and easy to lose track of. You have to remind me of these things if you actually want me to care about them.”

“It’s our anniversary Randall.”

He stops, but instead of looking guilty or remorseful (like you secretly hoped), he gets livid, “No it’s not, are you stupid or something?”

“Randall, baby it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”

“No! You stupid fucking bitch, are you trying to make me look bad, cooking this stupid fancy dinner and staying up late. Trying to lie and act like I forgot our five year anniversary?! Stop playing the victim Y/N. So tell me, are you lying to make me feel bad, or is your brain really that fucking empty?”

“It’s our six year anniversary,” you whisper.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I was just being stupid Randall. You’re right baby, I forgot the date of our anniversary.”

He snarls. “I don’t think so Y/N, I think, actually I know that not only are you stupid, but that you’re a liar. I know that you just want to make me look bad by preparing our anniversary dinner a week early. And you have to push it by claiming we’ve been together for six years. I know it’s five. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” you cry.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” he yells, pushing his plate of steak and mashed potatoes, letting your parent’s wedding china shatter on the ground. You cry harder. “You’re a stupid, waste of my time Y/N. Five wasted years I’ve spent on you. Do you know why I do it, huh. Do you know why I stay with you when I could have one of the beautiful, rich, successful, truthful women I’m fucking?”

You shake your head.

“It’s because I feel pity for you. No other man would want you. I’m the only one that will ever love you. You know that right Y/N?” He picks up a piece of your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. “Tell me that I’m the only one who will love you, you know it’s the truth right?” You nod your head. In a swift motion Randall turns, grabs a glass full of red wine and chucks it at the wall, narrowly avoiding your left ear.

“I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.”

“You’re the only one who will ever love me Randall,” you croak out in between sobs.

He closes the distance between you two once more, gripping your chin and jerking your face so that your eyes meant his. It hurts, and makes you cry more, but you don’t say anything.

“Don’t you know it sweetness,” he lets go, delivers a sharp slap to your check and grips your wrist. “Now clean your mess up, and then I think it’s best if you get out of the house for a little bit, don’t you agree?”

You nod quickly. He smiles.

“Good girl, now I would normally be worried about you going to hook up with that string bean you’re always all over, but according to the last time I went through your phone, he isn’t in your recent calls. Glad to know he’s finally done with your bullshit. I’m sure a nice long walk alone will do you good. You can think about what led you to lying tonight, and then maybe you can come back in time for our real anniversary.”

He slips upstairs, so you clean up the rest of the uneaten meal and the broken wine class, cutting up your hands severely in the process. You spend at least an hour in a futile attempt to get red wine stains off of your wallpaper, before grabbing your phone and purse and running out the door.

Even after what Randall says, you still think about calling Spencer. Your thumb hovers over the call button for a minute until you switch the contact, phoning your boss instead. You inform her you need a personal day, and that it’s a family emergency.

You check the time, 6:53. Spencer is almost definitely on his way to work right now. You want to call him so bad, but the things he said you ring through your mind. You can’t ask for his help anymore.

For the first time, you are truly on your own.

Until a familiar horizon blue Volvo pulls up next to the curb you’re sitting on, and Spencer Reid sticks his head out the window.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Get it the car, come on I’ll drive you to work with me.”

Confused as you are, this is your best option right now. So you climb into the passenger seat of his car, refusing to make eye contact with him, instead looking at your bleeding hands. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re bleeding. Did Randall do this to you? Why didn’t you call me?”

“No, Spencer, Randall didn’t do this to me. He dropped a wine glass and I helped him pick it up. Now just drive.” And he does, drive that is. But you can feel his stares, on your cut up hands, and you forming bruises. You can feel him profiling the signs of abuse on your body.

But more than that you hate that you can feel he’s upset with you. Upset because you didn’t call him. Does he not remember screaming at you not too?

He pulls into the parking lot, parks the car and finally turns to make eye contact with you. He has tears in his, “I really wish you would’ve called me Y/N. If it’s getting this bad I want you to stay with me.”

“Spencer am I going insane?”

“Of course not, what do you mean?” he looks so gentle, so kind and you’re so confused.

“Do you remember what day me and Randall started dating?”

“Yes, it was April 23rd, 2001. 6 years ago today actually. Is that why he did this to you? Does it have anything to do with that?”

“How can you remember that but not our screaming match a week ago?” you laughed, your hands burned now, there’s definitely glass in there, you swear you can feel the tiny little shards in your blood.

“What do you mean, Y/N? We didn’t scream at each other? I haven’t even seen you in weeks. How long has he been hitting you? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Spencer, on the 16th you picked me up and took me back to your apartment because Randall kicked me out. On the evening of the 17th I went to leave because Randall told me I could come home. You said I was being abused and called me stupid for going back to him. When we fought about it I stormed out and you told me not to call you if he kicked me out again because you didn’t care anymore. That’s why I didn’t call you.”

You look up at Spencer, and nearly start crying yourself when you see his crumpled face. Tears are freely spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t remember that,” he pushes his long hair out of his face, clearly frazzled, “I- I can’t believe I don’t remember that.”

Before you can say anything, Spencer pulls out his phone. “Hey Hotch, it’s me. I can’t come in today. I need to use a personal day. . . I’ll tell you later. Okay, thank you” He angrily pulls out of the parking lot, and you can tell he’s headed back to his apartment.

“Spencer it’s okay, I’m not upset with you.”

“No Y/N, it’s not okay. I said all those terrible things to you, of course you were scared to call me after them. The worst part is I was too high to even remember it all. I- I just can’t believe I helped him do this to you,” tears still freely flowing down his face.

“Spencer what are you talking about? I was with you all day, you weren’t high. You don’t even drink, how could you be high?”

He sighs, “do you remember when I was kidnapped by that unsub, Tobias Hankel? About 2 months ago?” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Well, I told you about his multiple personalities, how one beat me to death and then Tobias resurrected me, how I had to kill Tobias in order to survive, even though Tobias himself did nothing to me. Well when I was in the barn, Tobias would give me drugs, dilaudid, in order to cut the pain of his other personalities’ abuse. When I killed him, I took the drugs he had one him with me, and I can’t stop Y/N. It’s affecting my life, my work, and now it’s affecting you.” He parks his car in his apartment complex’s lot and turns to look at you. “Hotch has never said anything about it, so even though the team knows I have no reason to quit, I think I do now. Y/N, I think we need to get clean together.”

Suddenly that night made sense, Spencer was irritable and strange, he wasn’t high, he was going through withdrawal. But when he threw the money at you, so loopy and out of it, he was on it. He was so high he didn’t remember the moments before.

“Spencer, I don't know what to say. I want to help you get sober, I want that more than anything, but I’m not addicted to drugs, I rarely even drink.”

“I know Y/N, you don’t have a drug problem like me, but you are an addict. You need to leave Randall. You know it, I know it, but you can’t.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Spencer continues to speak, “It’s okay, I understand why. But we both need to quit, and I think it’s best if we do it together.”

“Well how are we supposed to do that,” you whisper.

“Come on, let’s get started,” you and Spencer exit his car, he loops your hands together, leading you up to his apartment. When you get there, he digs through his messenger bag and grabs a couple of tiny glass bottles and a syringe. He throws them into his garbage can, and turns to look at you.

“Pull out your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to block Randall’s number.”

You want to fight him on it, but you know he’s right. You need to leave Randall, and now’s as good of a time as any. Yet, you can’t forget the things he’s said to you. “I can’t Spencer, he’s my boyfriend, he loves me.”

“Y/N, please, please do this with me.” You shake your head, he sighs. “Okay, I get it, this is going to take time. Just, um, stay with me for a couple days. Please. We can go get your stuff tomorrow night.”

You think about rejecting Spencer’s offer, but you really don’t want to go back there. More than anything, you want to stay right here. You try to tell yourself it’s because you’re worried about Spencer, but deep down you know it’s more than that. So you nod, and Spencer wraps you in a hug, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Y/N. Now let’s go get your hands wrapped up.”

9:21 PM, May 2nd, 2007.

You’ve been staying at Spencer’s for just over a week now. You haven’t seen Randall since your anniversary, and Spencer hasn’t taken dilaudid while you’ve been here. Things are going well. You’re watching a lot of bad reality TV, and Spencer has gone through about 7 packs of Gatorade, but you’re both doing okay.

Now you were just waiting for him to come back from his case in Idaho, you knew this one was pretty bad. They were searching for a woman in the middle of a huge forest, as she was being hunted and chased down. Spencer called you right before getting on the jet, and told you he would be home soon, so now you were just waiting for him.

While doing so however, you found something. A lump on Spencer’s side of the mattress. Under it, were two small glass bottles and a syringe. The same ones you had seen Spencer throw into the garbage days prior.

Now you need to talk to Spencer, so you sit on his couch, and wait for him to come home. When he comes through the door, he immediately sees you and smiles. “Y/N! I’ve missed you.” He hugs you, and for a second you forget why you’re even mad at him in the first place.

“Spencer, I need to talk to you. I found your bottles.” The mood in the room instantly shifts, but you don’t care, you need to get your words out. “You told me you were quitting, I watched you throw them away.”

He brushes his hairs through his hair, and begins to mess with his hands. “I am quitting Y/N, I haven't taken any, but. . . I just need them to be there.”

“Spencer, please, throw them away. I’m trying to help you here.” Suddenly he grows very angry, and you can tell you said the wrong thing.

“Well I’m trying too. To me it seems the only one not trying is you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you still haven’t blocked Randall, he still calls all the time! Why do I have to throw my addiction away if you can’t even do the same to yours?”

“That's not fair.”

“How so?” he yells. “How is it that you can’t block your abusive, no good piece of shit boyfriend but I have to throw away the things I enjoy? That doesn’t feel like trying to me.”

“I’m not addicted to Randall Spencer, I just love him. I don’t want or need to quit him.”

“Oh really? Then why are you even still here? Why haven’t you answered his calls? Or gone to see him? I think you know exactly why.”

And you do. You don’t want to go back there, but what Randall says is true. He is the only one who will love you, and you’re not ready to lose that yet. You’re not ready to cut off all contact with him.

“I can leave if that’s what you want Spencer.”

His face softened, “no, that’s not what I want. That’s the last thing I want.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “If you block Randall I’ll throw away my dilaudid.”

You ponder it, “Okay.”

He breaks into a wide smile. “Really? You’ll do it?”

You smile at him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll block Randall.”

6:56 PM, May 30th, 2007.

You did not block Randall.

Even after watching Spencer pour out his bottles, breaking up the glass and tossing it away for a second time, you couldn’t. Even after seeing him snap his syringes in half, and feeling him kiss your forehead, after seeing how happy and excited he was for your fresh start together, you just couldn’t do it.

Spencer thought you did, and it was easy to hide the truth from him. Randall hadn’t called since then, so you and Spencer continue to spend time together, last week you celebrated one month of sobriety. You got an ice cream cake and little, silly party hats and exchanged gifts.

And it made you feel like shit.

Spencer was so happy, so proud that you had both been clean for a month, but you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to be clean at all.

You still can’t decide if you should block Randall’s number.

You try not to think about it, instead focusing the energy into making you and Spencer virgin pina coladas, he was currently out picking up burgers from your favorite restaurant. When he returns, you were going to watch one of your crappy reality TV reruns, and then an episode of Doctor Who. It was Spencer’s idea a couple days ago, and quickly it became a regular occurrence.

Faintly over the loud whir of the blender you can hear your phone ringing. You run quickly to go grab it, just in case Spencer needed your help with something, but your heart drops when you see the caller ID. It’s Randall, trying once again to contact you.

Your thumb hovers over the accept button, but before you can make a decision, the call times out and sends Randall to voicemail. You let out a breath and set your phone down.

But then something possesses you, and you snatch your phone and dial Randall’s number. He picks up on the 3rd ring.

“Baby, oh my god baby is that really you?”

He sounds so excited to hear from you, how could you have stayed mad at him for so long?

“Yes baby, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls at all. I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t worry sweetness, I’m so so sorry for the things I said to you, I need you to come home. You missed our anniversary you know? But it’s okay! We can celebrate now! I got you a really beautiful gift, one we can definitely experiment with tonight.” You could hear his smirk over the phone.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to come back right now, maybe later baby, but not right now.”

You hear his breathing pick up, and tense. You can tell he’s getting agitated. He wasn’t expecting you to answer like that, you always come home as soon as he tells you you can come back. “What do you mean? You’re being ridiculous, I want to see my girlfriend. I’m sure you want to get off of the streets too, you’ve been squatting for over a month now.”

“I’m not squatting Randall, I’m living with Spencer.”

“What!?” he yells. “I thought I told you not to stay with him. I hate that guy, you know that.”

“Would you rather me be on the streets Randall? Spencer’s a great guy, and I want to stay here.”

“Frankly, yes I would. But don’t worry, you can still come home. Just send me the prick’s address and I’ll come pick you up. We can enjoy tonight together.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to send you Spencer’s address. I’m staying here. I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone Randall. I’m done.”

Before he could say anything, you hung up. As you did so you heard the front door open, and Spencer made his way to the bedroom.

“Hey! I got burgers! Ready to eat?” he looks down to see your phone still resting in your hand, stuck on the phone app. “Who were you talking to?”

“Just an old friend,” you say.

“Think you’ll be talking to them again anytime soon?” you can tell he knows, and you’re surprised he isn’t lashing out at you. You’re so used to how Randall reacts when you go against his wishes, Spencer’s calm, understanding presence is like a breath of fresh air.

“No, I think I’m ready to leave them behind,” you smile at each other. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a sec okay?”

He nods, and goes to set up the food and TV.

It takes you seven seconds to block Randall.

1:12 AM, June 10th, 2007.

You haven’t gone out with your coworkers in months, you forgot how good it feels to just be present with people. You didn’t even drink tonight, wanting to remember every second of this time out with friends. You were beaming when you unlocked the front door.

Yet your smile slips when you enter what had become you and Spencer’s shared bedroom.

He isn’t there.

You pull out your phone to call him when you hear a thud coming from the bathroom door. You hesitate, scared of what you know you’ll likely find. When you finally throw the door open you’re already teary eyed, and these sobs escalate as soon as you see Spencer, tipped over, lying on the bathroom floor, the needle still sticking out of his arm.

You’re sobbing as you rip it out, hastily undoing the belt wrapped around his upper forearm. He looks up, even in his groggy haze you can see the guilty look in his eyes when they made contact with yours.

“Y/N. . . I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me but I just couldn’t stop myself . . . I-”

“Shhh, It’s okay, just breathe,” you whisper through your tears. “It’s going to be okay Spencer, I’m here, and it’s going to be okay. I’m staying right here.” You pull his head into your lap, stroking your shaking hands through his hair.

His head begins to shake, and you can feel his tears on your dress. You rest your head on his, and for a few seconds you just sit there, crying together.

“You’re going to be okay Spencer.”

8:09 AM, June 11th, 2007.

Your head is buried in his chest, you need to be able to hear him breathe. You need to hear his heart beating. You need to be as close to him as possible right now. He stirs as he wakes up, and wraps his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“Don’t apologize Spencer, this is a part of recovery okay? You’re still in recovery, just because you relapsed doesn’t mean we have to start over. You’re so much stronger than you were before. So much braver. So much better. You can do this.”

He smiles at you, “thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, now withdrawal is going to be even harder this time. I’m going to the store. We’re going to need plenty of Gatorade and water. We have to flush everything out of your system. Do you mind if I take your car to the store?”

He beams, even in his groggy state he manages to look so perfect, “You know my car is always yours to use Y/N.”

“I’ll be back soon okay? Don’t move a muscle,” you grab his keys and head out the door. And you really do mean it, you fully intend this to be the shortest grocery trip of your life. You’re terrified of leaving Spencer alone long enough to get high again, even though you spent all day yesterday searching for drugs and throwing anything you found in the garbage, taking it out the main apartment dumpster that night.

You get to the store, grab everything you need, 3 packs of blue Gatorade, 6 cases of water bottles, and the store’s entire stock of Jell-O and rush back to Spencer’s car. You were only in the store for 17 minutes, the majority of which was just check-out time. You smile, thinking of how excited Spencer will be when he sees all the Jell-O in the fridge, but feel your stomach drop when you see a familiar face examining Spencer’s car.

Randall.

Before you can decide what to do, he turns and sees you.

“Y/N! I was expecting Spencer, but this is even sweeter. I knew I recognized this hunk of junk. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been around, I’m kind of on a tight schedule here. I really need to get going,” you say as you load up your groceries into Spencer’s trunk.

“That’s a lot of Jell-O sweetheart, you hate Jell-O.” That’s not even true. You hate pudding, you love Jell-O.

As much as you wanted to yell at him for calling you sweetheart, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. You still missed him. Blocking him helped, but you still felt strong urges to call him sometimes. “It’s not for me, it’s for Spencer.”

“I thought I told you not to stay with him anymore.”

“What part of that conversation would make you think I would listen to you?” you say.

“You should always listen to me Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t seen you in months, we’re not dating anymore. I’m done.”

“You don’t mean that you’re just being irrational. Are you on your period? I bet that’s it. Come get breakfast with me. You probably just need chocolate, and the place down the block has incredible chocolate waffles.”

You open your mouth to reject him, but you can’t. Part of it is because you know if you do then he’ll follow you back to your apartment and the last thing you want is for him to know where you’re living right now. But the other part is much worse. A big part of you wants to let him try again. You can’t explain why, but you really want for him to redeem himself as your first love.

“Ok, you have 20 minutes, let’s go get breakfast.”

The walk there is silent and awkward. Randall grabs your hand, too tight for you to do anything about it, and keeps this grip until you sit down in your booth.

You don’t get chocolate waffles. You really don’t even like chocolate all that much. Randall knows that, or at least you thought he did. Instead you get cinnamon french toast, and within minutes it’s at the table.

“You know baby, Spencer doesn’t love you.” He says halfway through your french toast.

“We aren’t dating Randall.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been with him in that apartment for a while now. I’m surprised he hasn’t given you the boot.”

You sit in silence, Randall takes this as a sign to continue. “We’ve been together for five years, sweetness. No one can love you the way I do. That’s just a fact. Spencer fucking Reid can not replace me, no one can replace me.”

“I hate that you’re right. I hate that I can’t breathe when I’m not with you Randall. I hate that you’re stuck to me. You’re this god awful stain on my life. I hate looking at it but no matter what I do I can’t wash it off.”

He smirks. “You’re not gonna get rid of me Y/N.” He pays the check, and gets up from the table. You go to get up too, but notice he didn’t tip your waitress, so you leave another five bucks on the table.

When you get outside he grasps your shoulders. “I knew you would come around Y/N, I knew you would get it. Now come on, we can go collect your stuff from that prick’s apartment and get you home. I know exactly how you can make it up to me.”

You pause, “I don’t think so Randall. I’m not ready quite yet, but I promise I’ll call you.” You meant it, you had already unblocked him from your phone.

“Oh absolutely not, you’re going home with me now.”

“No I’m not.” As you were yelling at each other you notice a strangely familiar face standing nearby, just in ear shot. You can’t place him, but you know you’ve met before.

“Yes you are! We’re happy together and you’re coming to live with me again!”

“We don’t love each other, Randall! Not right now at least!”

He’s livid, and once again you feel that scared, indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach. “That’s not true! I’ll prove it to you.” He grabs your chin and pulls your face to his.

You feel as if water is filling your lungs, you’re drowning and no one is around to save you. Randall is physically stronger than you, you’re stuck in his grasp. It’s like you’re screaming and no one can hear you.

And yet, this flood of emotions you’re feeling is the first time you realize something.

You’re addicted to Randall.

You need to get out.

You need to get back to Spencer.

After what feels like minutes (but is actually about 3 seconds) of being unseen and vulnerable, you discover you’ve been protected the whole time. The man you can't place rips Randall off of you, “What’s wrong with you? Get off of her!”

It’s his voice that lets you place him. Derek Morgan, Spencer’s closest friend and coworker, punches Randall in the face. “Get out of here!”

“What the fuck is wrong with YOU? That’s my girlfriend! Sweetheart, tell him to leave us alone!”

They both turn and look at you, with tears in your eyes you look at Morgan and shake your head. “Please, get him to leave.”

And Morgan does just that, with a little yelling and a flash of his FBI badge, Randall is running for the hills.

“Come on baby girl, let’s get you back home. Did you walk here?”

You shake your head, “No, I drove Spencer’s car here.”

“Well, how bout I drive you home, and then afterwards I swing back and get Spencer’s car and drop it off?”

So you do just that. After profusely thanking Morgan, and him insisting that it was nothing, and also insisting to carry your groceries in from the car, you and Spencer are together once again.

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I didn’t believe you before. I was going to go back to him. How could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t talk like that Y/N, you said it best yourself. Just because you relapse doesn’t mean you aren’t trying, and it most certainly doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

“I think it’s time we get clean Spencer. Both of us, once and for all.”

“I think so too Y/N.”

He pulls you into a hug and in between sniffles you manage to choke out what you’ve been wanting to say since you got into Morgan’s car. “I love you.”

He looks at you, and the look in his eyes almost makes you cry out of pure joy. He looks so happy, as if he’s been waiting for you to say that for years.

Maybe he has.

“I love you too.”

7:29 AM, April 16th, 2008.

You press your lips to Spencer’s, you know he has just woken up, but you know it’s a big day for him.

You both have been sober for over ten months now. Today is the day of his first group meeting. He found Beltway Clean Cops recently, and has been so excited to go. You’re excited for him. You know how proud he is of you, and you want to show him in every way possible that you’re proud of him.

He opens his eyes and smiles up at you. “What did I deserve to get a wake up like that?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re incredible, and an incredible boyfriend deserves an incredible morning. Do you know what else he deserves?”

He hums and waits for the answer.

“An incredible breakfast! That’s why I made blueberry pancakes. Now hurry up and come eat. You should leave soon if you want to make it to your meeting on time. Have I told you yet how incredibly proud I am of you?”

He smiles, “Only an average of 15.6 times a day since I told you I was going.”

“Well that’s not nearly enough, now come on, get up. It’s pancake time,” you say. “Oh, and Spencer?”

“Yes flower?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles, “I love you flower.”

“I love you more.”

You ate breakfast together and then forced Spencer out the door, making sure he had plenty of time to get to his meeting. You knew he would regret it if he was late.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you still thought about Randall a lot. You still missed him. You still love him in a way. But now that you had Spencer, now that you were clean together, you would never risk going back to him.

That day where you agreed to go to breakfast with him, Derek asked you if you wanted to press charges. You didn’t, you don’t regret that either.

You’re even more proud of yourself this way, because you know he’s still there, still accessible and available to you, and still didn’t run to him. You know that any trace of Randall in your future is gone.

You know you and Spencer are finally clean.

“Ten months sober, I must admit Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it Ten months older I won't give in Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #reid x reader #criminal minds reid #reid fanfic #reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds angst

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feelingofcontent · 2 years

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DNP Rewatch: A VERY Sleepless Night With Phil

Date video was published: 11/20/2016 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 329

The last solo-Phil video of 2016. Also the second Sleepless Night video of the year; the other one was back in February.

0:07 - Phil sounds like he has had too much sugar and/or caffeine

0:10 - never know whether to believe his timecodes in these, but this doesn’t seem that unreasonable

0:15 - DNP were in LA for the DAPGOOSE event there; they just got back on November 18 so he really is filming this shortly after that

0:42 - close-up eye. looks very green here

0:44 - definitely cold after being in LA

0:58 - so much leg rubbing 😳

1:18 - that amount of mess is giving me intense anxiety; I would have to clean it immediately or at least shove it out of sight

1:24 - I love a good cape-blanket

1:29 - the BONCAS 😭 will talk about more at the end of this post

1:42 - Phil wardrobe tour!

1:55 - brief cut to shirtless Phil. back in the early days of YouTube he was literally shirtless on camera all the time

1:59 - I love that bird shirt SO MUCH. He and Dan had to coordinate with the shiny jackets though

2:15 - I like that one less. surprised at the black-and-white prints for Phil, actually, instead of color!

2:24 - the one he will go with indeed. feel like he had already fully decided before filming this

2:33 - that’s a look 😂

2:37 - Phil really loves an interesting shoe

2:51 - awww, he still doesn’t love dressing fancy or feel that confident about it 😕 his more recent suit looks are good though!

3:00 - so the pile in front of the wardrobe wasn’t even from his suitcase...I’m even more horrified now

3:08 - neither of them wore that wig in the anime video

3:17 - yeah better question is why did he keep the wicker bed for 5 years, yikes

3:23 - that wig is more disturbing than Phil’s old hair

3:30 - hmmmm, maybe but he certainly hasn’t seemed concerned about the noise to this point

3:44 - fox-mating interlude, lovely. glad Phil can tell us exactly what it sounded like...

3:54 - if true, there was over and hour between the foxes and this. yes, good book!

4:11 - “I look like a potato” 😂

4:15 - very self-aware about what most of the comments would be if he didn’t address this, haha

4:23 - mirrored view with fringe the other way always looks just slightly strange

4:30 - THE PHOTO BOOTH CHALLENGE shout-out!

4:40 - cute! had to clarify with that “I’m not a furry, I promise” though 👀

5:05 - these are getting progressively more disturbing...also “I’m licking myself” um. 😳

5:37 - he’s so proud of himself. This is exactly the kind of thing you get really proud of in the middle of the night on too little sleep

5:54 - that is a sad amount of cereal

6:21 - dipping cookies in tea is amazing and I don’t do it enough. actually I think he’s got milk here though

6:44 - he is in fully bored mode at this point

6:47 - Phil loves a festive theme

7:00 - that’s from when he filmed Sprite Advert way back in 2007

7:02 - this is quite the photo, lol

7:12 - he certainly had some interesting profile pictures. he is going to regret these being on the internet forever

7:30 - he is really sharing all of them huh 😂 I do love that he can laugh at himself

7:52 - it must have been annoying to have to go downstairs to go to the bathroom every time

7:59 - nice of the neighbor to tell that that 4+ years in...whoops

8:13 - Phil glasses! pretty sure those are the ones he wears most of the time after this

8:22 - referencing the last sleepless night video

8:45 - ahahaha, it’s the “raw chicken breast” crystal. I didn’t realize he had had that for so long

8:56 - he does not sound tired. The first timestamp he put in the video was 1:43 am and this last one is 6:26am, so a bit over 4.5 hours

9:05 - he sounds way too awake during this merch promo and outro to be ready to go to sleep immediately afterwards

9:47 - still doing TATINOF shows! They were in Dublin just a day after this was posted (1, 2), then Berlin a week later (1, 2, 3).

9:56 - how did he even manage to do that?! poor Phil. too much violent gesturing

10:58 - yes there is no escape

This is my favorite of the sleepless night videos! Just casual Phil updates and chats. 😊

Just a couple of days after this were the BONCAs, which Phil was trying on clothes for. DNP had coordinating shiny suits and won three awards. Also this happened when Phil won “creator of the year.” 😭😭😭 Here’s a whole compilation of DNP that night as well.

#dan and phil #dnp #dnpRewatch #amazingphil #phil lester #amazingphil videos #A VERY Sleepless Night With Phil

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

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DaveFarts - Episode 7 “The Noisy Roommate” [Episode List] Tim spends the night at Dave’s house and they have to share the latter’s full-sized bed. As they go to sleep, Dave soon makes sure that it’s gonna be a noisy night.

The episode is inspired by TheFartingWolf’s video/premise of the same name. I had a similar idea sometime ago but I figured I could just combine my story and the video for, I don’t know, a real 4D experience? With that said, I’m ready to delete this story should TheFartingWolf want me to do so.

Also keep in mind that this is not a story about the IRL person who made the video linked above, but rather two fictional characters.

The Noisy Roommate

“Thanks for having me over, bro.” I thanked Dave, while rummaging through my backpack.

This was not the first time I slept at Dave’s house of course, not even the first during our 20s, but this time it truly was a last-second solution. This is not like the shower emergency from sometime ago, though water is involved again somehow.

“No problem dude. I needed someone to help me finish this case of beer anyway.” he said, cracking one open and throwing the can at me, which I managed to catch.

“Always up for it.” and I took a long sip of that cold nectar.

“I’m sorry you almost drowned.” he joked.

“Yeah it was terrible.” I played along.

Truth is that some pipe in my house literally exploded and water flooded the entire apartment. It’s not as bad as it sounds: the leak was already fixed but I still needed a place to stay for the night. I didn’t even have time to call anyone as Dave simply showed up at my place and drove me here.

We sat on the couch to watch some bad movie as we kept chatting about some random stuff and having beer. We were both dressed casually, Dave sporting a pair of grey shorts and a black t-shirt, outfits that doubled as our pajamas, even though Dave was probably gonna sleep shirtless as he usually does.

And again, as usual, I felt some familiar vibrations going through the couch. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

“Straight to the point, I see.” I commented.

He laughed and slightly leaned, ripping the rest of the 7-seconds rip towards me, without the couch muffling the sound now. I always appreciate how my bud is so casual about my kink and that fart, needless to say, was impressive, despite being “small” for my bro’s incredibly high standards. Also, he basically almost always farted like this even before he knew about my fetish which, again, led me to appreciate more how his attitude towards me didn’t change at all -and he knows very well the “side effects” his blasts give me.

I pitched a tent in my own shorts but I managed to hide it by adjusting my position, crossing my legs. Whether Dave noticed that or not was irrelevant, as he kept ripping a couple of more loud toots.

We resumed watching the TV for like one hour until we both decided it was time to turn into corpses for the rest of the night, so we went upstairs, the beers making us a bit dizzy but nothing serious.

I was familiar with Dave’s house so I headed directly to the guest room, my bud right behind me.

I stepped into the dark room, turned the light on, and I saw it, staring at me from the bed.

Brave Dave was the first one to run away, pulling me outside of the guest room as I hastily shut the door. Team work!

“Okay, Tim. Were you cursed or something?” he asked.

On the bed we both just saw a huge spider, the biggest we’ve ever seen in real life. While we’re not properly arachnophobic, it’s not like *we like* sleeping with spiders hanging around.

We were both manly adult men and so we were both very afraid of the eight-legged monster sneaking out to murder us in our sleep, or simply existing, so the two of us rushed to the kitchen and came back with tons of duct tape to block up every nook and cranny of the guest room door.

“Alright.” I said. “I’ll just use the couch downstairs.”

“Nah bro.” Dave commented. “My bed’s full-sized. You can join me.” and he walked towards his room.

I needed some time to process what he just said. Me and Dave shared a bed many times but that was always before I came out to him. I wonder how-

“Look, I hate to interrupt your inner monologue about self-pity and all” he said, kind of annoyed. “But can we just for once skip your awkward bullshit and head to bed? Thanks.” and then disappeared into his room.

I chuckled a bit as I realized how “formulaic” I was being lately when he more than once proved to me that he had no issues with me, so I followed him.

The bedroom was dimly lit and he was already lying on his side of the bed, shirtless, showing off some mild pecs and an overall nice-looking figure.

“I gotta warn you: I’m a screamer in bed.” I jokingly said, lying down on my side of the bed, just by the window.

“Oh yesss, scream harder, daddy.” he played along, laughing.

We were both lying down, mindlessly scrolling stuff on our smartphones and reading articles. That only lasted a couple of minutes.

“Well, time for your goodnight kiss” Dave announced, quickly wrapping his legs around me and planting his butt in grey shorts in my face.

I was still lying down as the fart erupted, almost making me deaf for how loud it was, so up close and personal. I couldn’t see the ceiling very well as Dave’s hairy legs mostly obstructed the view. The blast didn’t even smell that much, which made me assume it was on command rather than fully natural; not that it didn’t stink at all of course.

The beer-powered fart lasted about 10 seconds. He wiggled his ass on my face a bit and then let me go/breathe. “I thought you were a screamer.” he teased and went back on his side of the bed, which almost looked queen-sized.

I didn’t say anything and I simply turned my back to him, trying to be annoyed and failing miserably, feeling a faint scent in my nostrils every time I breathed.

“Looks like there’s a leak in my house as well.” he said, right before ripping another thunderous blast, this time far from me. I tried to ignore that, but I still pitched a tent anyway. I didn’t even turn around: I’m not going to let the teaser win!

After a couple of minutes, Dave turned the lights off and the room fell into darkness, the only source of light being a digital alarm clock inches from my face. 1:34 AM, not as late as I thought, but my body didn’t care and I fell asleep almost immediately.

2:44 AM I hear a loud noise and I woke up, only opening my eyes, the alarm clock greeting my sight in a room of pure darkness. Took me a couple of moments to realize that, of course, it was Dave farting, this time in his sleep. I turned around, noticing Dave’s grey pants as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

3:01 AM I was almost asleep as another fart snapped me back to reality, this time even louder. Again I instinctively turned around and stared at my bud’s butt as the blast erupted. Those felt very airy and pretty much odourless I think. I thought whether I should wake him up but I didn’t want him to think that I was listening to his sleep-farting, which is literally what I was doing sadly.

At this point I was playing the jump-rope between being asleep and awake, every time fully waking up because of Dave farting like crazy. After many farts, the blast at 3:59 AM felt particularly powerful and “meaty”, which made me look again at my friend’s butt, somehow noticing his pants moving because of the air being blasted out. A powerful rip that lasted around 11 seconds I believe. Was I dreaming? Similar farts then followed.

4:59 AM This one almost scared me as when I thought it was over it instead became louder and louder, as if it was a train passing nearby. It had a great sound and flow, one of the best I ever heard from my bro.

5:32 AM Another peak in farting activity. Falling asleep at this point was impossible. Each moment of silence was just the quiet before the storm and I completely gave up on the idea of resting that night.

6:21 AM This one was so loud and powerful that even Dave woke up for a moment. He simply sighed in relief though, but when even the farter wakes up, you know the fart was incredible.

6:36 AM A similar blast greeted the first lights of the dawn.

Even more powerful rips were heard at 7:16 AM and 7:33 AM. At around 8:01 AM, Dave finally woke up by himself, one of his loudest farts acting as natural alarm clock.

That was a long night and as I heard Dave going downstairs to do his morning routine, I figured it was finally time to catch up some sleep, but ironically enough the silence made it more difficult as I was now so used to his blasts that they felt like white noise, fetish or not.

That teasing bastard won and wasn’t even done.

After merely 30 minutes, I heard him jump on the bed. I was facing the window, pretending to be asleep, but I knew he was standing on the bed, towering over me.

“Rise and shine, roommate!”

He squatted over my head, still sporting those grey shorts, and ripped a huge, loud and proud natural morning fart all over my face. I’m kind of glad I was already awake, ‘cause I would have been scared to death by that gas thunder. Where was all of this gas coming from? How was he not done?

I screamed, annoyed, and pushed him on his side of the bed, my hands touching his still-farting ass, the stench being this time unbearable. I heard him laugh like an idiot as he lied next to me, keeping one of his legs up as he finished ripping that loud, long fart.

“So you are a screamer!” he joked.

“And you fart in your sleep.” I replied.

“As if you’d mind me doing that.”

Whether he was aware or not of what happened during the night, Dave was as usual so comfortable around me that he just didn’t care and it was all just a big gassy prank for him. So I just lied there, awake, chatting with my bud about my house looking like Venice, so tired and so exhausted that I didn’t even bother about the spider staring back at us from the ceiling.

End of Episode 7

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Text

In recognition of 200 followers.....

I composed a list of 200 hero x villain dialogue prompts for you guys to ask me or reblog it and ask your own followers or if you take inspiration.

Thank you so much! It means a whole lot!

1. "I wish I had longer to love you."

2. "Sometimes being the greatest is being the worse."

3. "I will kill you if you die on me."

4. "Bury me... under a willow tree... with tulips and lilies to blossom in the spring and a small stream to keep me company."

5. "Villains aren't capable of love; yet, here I am crying over your grave."

6. "The kitten's name is Max."

7. "I'm going to get a beer."

8. "There is only one way to kill me, but you could never muster the strength to pull through."

9. "I'm dizzy with love for you."

10. "Hero, you are drunk not a toddler."

11. "I pledge to serve you willingly, butthead."

12. "Ride the waves with me." "You are a mermaid, no thanks."

13. "Stay awake for me; it's only a little farther."

14. "I can't carry you!"

15. "He isn't much, but we'll make do."

16. "I WANT TO SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER PLEASE. Please..."

17. "George Washington never told a fib, and I am greater than him, so trust me, Hero, when I say I am telling the truth."

18. "Eggs and butter make dough, knives and guns make death."

19. "You are insane."

20. "The bomb is going off in twenty seconds, Hero. Run now. I-I'm going to stop it."

21. "What is love?"

22. "I don't get the function of hugs."

23. "Mentally I'm good, but physically..."

24. "I only wished for happiness from that genie. I guess it was evil."

25. "Break him, shatter him, destroy him."

26. "Sing with me."

27. "Villain you are touch starved, not dying."

28. "What the heck did you do to your hair." "What? You don't like it?" "It looks like my cat's litterbox."

29. "Don't give me hope."

30. "I am not a disease or a parasite. I am a human. I am one of those millions you swore to protect."

31. "Kiss, marry, kill?" "Kill, kill, kill."

32. "You created me."

33. "Villain don't you dare pass out."

34. "I like the look of blood on you, compliments your eyes."

35. "I kinda dropped Hero through space."

36. "Power exhaustion sucks."

37. "Time to save the world. Yay!" *says in sarcasm*

38. "Let me feed you Hero."

39. "You do not have AC?!"

40. "Villain you have a fever."

41. "Am I drunk?"

42. "Movies. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."

43. "Lemme grab a beer and we are good to go."

44. "Don't. Look. At. Me."

45. "He just had his wisdom teeth out sooo." "How bad can it be? Villain has been shot with twenty tranq darts at one and didn't pass out... immediately anyway, took a good twenty minutes." "Well, you see-" "THE KITTEN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!"

46. "She needs surgery."

47. "It's a panic attack..." "KISS HIM!"

48. "Blood, gore, madness... this was made for me."

49. "Quit drooling on me and sit up."

50. "There's only one bed."

51. "He looks so cute when he sleeps."

52. "Of all the places to live, you had to choose a heavily fortified medieval castle two thousand years in the past?"

53. "You are a peacock Hero."

54. "Let's see who will drown first. You or me. One, two, three... let's go!"

55. "I wasn't always like this."

56. "Madness is for geniuses, not for me."

57. "It's just a sedative that's going to make you nice and docile."

58. "He's out." "Good, let him rest, villainy is hardwork."

59. "I love her, but she doesn't love me."

60. "If I had a choice to save you or me, I'd pick me."

61. "Gag her."

62. "They aren't made for this, give them mercy."

63. "Talk now or she dies."

64. "Broken ribs, broken jaw, broken arm... are you sure you want me to continue." "No." "Then tell me your name."

65. "Get me some thread and a needle. Just don't touch me."

66. "The police are coming."

67. "Tell me where she is. TELL ME WHERE IS SHE OR I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT AND TOSS YOU IN THE SEWER!!!!!"

68. "I love you." "I don't."

69. "Hug me just one last time."

70. "Villain hey hey hey. Calm down. You've been in a pretty bad accident."

71. "They won't be able to walk again."

72. "Tell me... just tell if they made it."

73. "Can't you just poof me another arm?"

74. "If you saved all of them, you can save me."

75. "I'm really tired..."

76. "Sleep. I will stay with you."

77. "She is sixteen years old." "All musicians start young." "This isn't a concert, this is life. Stop ruining it."

78. "He"s been in an accident." "Where?" "Five minutes away from your place."

79. "I wish he wasn't unconscious, so I could talk to him. So I could thank him."

80. "It's been four months now. I have came everyday and, uh, I dunno what to say. Hero, I need you to wake up. I can't function knowing you are right here."

81. "I have a date." "Hmm with who?" "Supervillain." "When and where honey?"

82. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet. We are still being hunted."

83. "Desert?" "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

84. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." "I know, I know dear and I so sorry, but I need you to help me. I need you to help them."

85. "Villain just sleep. Allow the drugs to take you under. Don't fight it, don't resist... just sleep. In the morning, we will be safe."

86. "Being lost in the woods isn't ideal."

87. "An injection of valium will do it."

88. "There's no anesthesia."

89. "Wouldn't it be great if we never met each other?"

90. "Bless you." "I didn't sneeze." "Yeah right. Now go sit down, you're sick."

91. "It's called insomnia you dim-wit."

92. "Join me and we can be great."

93. "You didn't bring me here for the cake." "No, dear, but you are so gullible. I brought you here for a sacrifice." "My life?" "Why yes."

94. "I don't know. I never had someone collapse on my doorstep before."

95. "I have nothing to lose. No family, no friends, just my meaningless life."

96. "That's my daughter, not the villain's... so give me her back before I rip your eyes out."

97. "How long was I out for?!" "Ten minutes, but you were drifting. I don't think you had that good of rest." "Oh, I thought I was asleep for hours."

98. "I know, I know you are going to hate me after this, but trust me when I say it's for the best."

99. "I know everything about you."

100. "I think narcissism is contagious because after watching you for a couple hours, I think I may have developed a little crush on the mirror..."

101. "What did you give me?"

102. "Is she screams, I'm going to scream, and then we are going to die."

103. "No fighting today, my cat just died."

104. "How hard did you punch me?"

105. "Not gonna lie, being delirious was epic."

106. "I am cooking for you. You aren't my servant, so stop thinking it."

107. "My old masters made me into a weapon and called me Villain, but if you desire a lapdog I am going to need to be refurnished to fit your needs."

108. "What is his deal?" "I think he's just crazy."

109. "Love is not what I had in mind when I agreed to go on a date with you."

110. "Hugs are overrated."

111. "Are you too hot or too cold?" "Both."

112. "I wish we could turn back time."

113. "I lost the game." "What do you mean? Hero is dead." "Precisely."

114. "Make a wish." "That you live."

115. "Villain has been acting exceptional! Today we granted them a break from the machine. Go ahead Hero and take him for some ice cream."

116. (Sleepy murmurs) "Don't go. I neeeed you." "Yeah yeah I know Villain."

117. "Villain was the one who hurt me, not Hero."

118. "Supervillain is in danger!"

119. "If everyone is scared of me, I might as well be alone."

120. "My head is killing me."

121. "Don't call an ambulance. Just... hold me."

122. "You don't have to do this. It's going to hurt you more than me." "Anything for you dearest, anything at all."

123. "Hero, go wash your hands before dinner."

124. "You have PTSD?" "I don't know?"

125. "I have soap in my eyes!' "Rinse it out." "Mm no I'm permanently mortally blinded." "Uh huh."

126. "We need to cuddle to keep warm."

127. "Take care of them for me, will you?"

128. "When I'm gone, promise to tell my mother, please."

129. "Drug him and then bring him to me."

130. "Superheroes are for children. In all honesty, we are all villains."

131. "Oh my gosh, Hero, what happened?" "Poisoned."

132. "Wouldn't it be nice?" "I don't fancy prosthetics."

133. "Just shut up and listen!"

134. "There is a memorial parade for Hero tomorrow. They asked you to lead it."

135. "She turned it around... at the end."

136. "I wish that he understood how much I care for him."

137. "Civilian! He fell asleep in my lap last night, like totally zooted. It was so cute, but also very tempting. I stuck a french fry up his nose." "Wow. Did he wake up then?" "Yeah, I am sorta kidnapped right now..."

138. "The book, the sword... all pieces of the puzzle huh." "No, darling, all pieces of my game."

139. "Their death is my fault! Not your's, but mine, so quit trying to make me feel better."

140. "Once upon a time-" "Oh please, not another fairytale."

141. "If only it was that easy."

142. "We are stuck in a maze, how can you be so joyful?"

143. "Celebrate Hero, eat your cake, party into the night... but just know, I will be back."

144. "Call 911!" "Why?" "I stubbed my toe."

145. "Your jawline looks like it was gauzed over in lard." "It looks better than your hay for hair."

146. "You're my best friend." "Villain? Are you on drugs?"

147. "Lay him there and leave him. Let the rats dine on him."

148. "The point of the cow suit?" "Oh, uh, I was at a Halloween parade. You know, for children."

149. "I-i never wanted to hurt you." "I know, I wanted you to, so I allowed it."

150. "Favorite movie?" "Your death." "Ooo never heard of it, let's watch it." "*groans* Oh my gosh, you are stupid."

151. "Being a flutist is my only superpower. And being modest apparently."

152. "Your head will join my collection if yoi don't watch out."

153. "Hey, hey! Wake up, buddy. It's just a nightmare."

154. "Meh head hurts." "Yeah, you hit it pretty hard."

155. "Let's go for a ride." "On that yellow miniature school bus?" "It's a ranger you idiot."

156. "No painkillers, no bandages, perfect environment for infection to settle... I'm just gonna leave you here Villain."

157. "I save you and this is how you repay me? A prison?"

158. "What are you doing?" "Climbing a tree? No Hero, I am breaking into your house to kidnap you."

159. "I formally apologize."

160. "Of all places, Hero, you had to teleport us to a desert. A DESERT."

161. "Supervillain won't stop unless we team up." "I don't think our alliance will stop them, I think it'll just make them angrier."

162. "Stop singing or I will blow this place until even the last atom is broken into itty-bitty molecules!" "That... that is scientifically impossible."

163. "I'm a genius! Yippee!"

164. "Life isn't perfect and nor is your morals."

165. "Control yourself before you kill everyone around you."

166. "Say your goodbyes."

167. "Of all the ways I've died, drowning was by far the nicest."

168. "Love the collar. Is it for fashion purposes?" "Uh, um, uh, er, no?"

169. "You look lonely. Want some hot coco?"

170. "It is negative million out there and you expect me to come in toasty warm after fixing your power?"

171. "Are you sick?" "Yeh." "Come on in then."

172. "Civilian, don't even bother trying to save him."

173. "We have a breach!"

174. "What makes a villain's life less important than your's?"

175. "Enjoy your soup." "You poisoned it." "And you're delusional, eat up."

176. "I hate 99% of the population." "According to a meme I found, you are therefore a cat."

177. "Don't overuse your powers."

178. "This is just an unfortunate event."

179. "You look so cute when you are sleepy and barely conscious."

180. "His fever is rising."

181. "Save her, leave me. I'll-i'll get out of this somehow."

182. "Sometimes self-sacrifice isn't noble, it's selfish."

183. "You are so funny that I need my inhaler to kill you with." "That sentence was so discombobulated that I am leaving."

184. "Just for your information, I hate oranges but love grapes."

185. "Walking down the stairs shouldn't be a momental effort." "You broke both your legs."

186. "You just destroyed my life's work, don't expect me to give you a huge bear hug."

187. "Is it true that you have telekinesis?" "Yes, why?" "Go steal me a donut."

188. "You are so incredibly touch starved, Villain." "Mmm." "Tired? Go ahead and sleep, I'm here."

189. "This is for your own good, I promise."

190. "I'm cold."

191. "I don't want to move and you can't make me."

192. "I AM RETIRED! YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE TO SEND ME PAMPHLETS OF THE HOTTEST HERO OF THE YEAR!"

193. "He's unconscious." "That tired, huh." "No, he passed out from blood loss."

194. "I want a kitten."

195. "I'm no scared of you, so stop acting like I am."

196. "He isn't dangerous, just scared."

197. "They won't be going anywhere for a long, long time."

198. "Hero? Hero? Oh my goodness, please wake up."

199. "Life is too short for pleasures."

200. "I hope you are happy, in the end."

#heros and villains #ask game #200 followers #thank you so much

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 52

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

“Perhaps I do not actually require a palace,” the Royal Companion says.

XiChen hears the words clearly, each one perfectly audible over the sounds of the guqin. The Rogue Prince had taken his leave only moments ago, but Lady Jiang is still present, having settled at the head of the bed. The Royal Companion had settled at the bottom, with an ease that suggested he had done so frequently in the past.

The words sounds nonsensical to XiChen’s ears, but the atmosphere in the Imperial chambers noticeably shifts, the Emperor stiffening in WangJi’s arms. A silence descends, just as incomprehensible as the words had been. XiChen is not familiar with the Royal Companion’s mannerisms, but the young man is holding himself stiffly as well, his lazy posture doing little to conceal the tension of his muscles.

Perhaps the sentence is a code that only the Emperor and the Royal Companion understand?

Still being held up by WangJi, the Emperor turns his head and whispers softly, words that are clearly meant for his brother’s ears only. He is reclining easily in WangJi’s arms, their heads close together, their cheeks nearly brushing.

XiChen turns his gaze back to the guqin.

It is not uncomfortable, precisely, watching his brother be so easily intimate with a person he cares for, but it is very much out of the ordinary. WangJi’s cool demeanor conceals a heart prone to excess of emotion, a depth of feeling that has always existed beneath the surface, rigorously concealed from the world. To see the Emperor so easily coax that emotion out into the open is miraculous, but it is also unsettling; XiChen does not know if the Emperor comprehends the true extent of WangJi’s affection, or how precious and rare it is, to have it so visibly displayed.

“Young Master Lan,” the Emperor says, startling him out of his thoughts.

Lady Jiang and WangJi are helping him shift into a better position, propped up against pillows and covers, no longer having to rely on WangJi for support. Despite his obvious physical weakness, the Emperor’s tone is clear and forceful. It is a skill, the ability to don a mantle of power and authority all while being maneuvered about one’s bed in such an undignified manner. XiChen both respects and envies this ability.

“Your Majesty?”

“I am grateful for your assistance, but I believe you are long overdue for some much needed rest. Would you be so kind to escort my shijie back to her chambers? Lan Zhan will continue the Cleansing in your place.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Of course, the insistence that he pass his duties to WangJi and rest, is nothing more than a polite method of removing him from the Emperor’s chambers. Any doubts he may have had would have been dispelled by WangJi’s vaguely apologetic look as he replaces XiChen at the guqin.

XiChen does not require an apology. He is tired and restless, his aching wrists welcoming any interruption of the tedious task. The two Imperial guards at the entrance are also ordered to take their duties outside, leaving WangJi and the Emperor alone with the Royal Companion.

In the hall outside the Imperial chambers, Lady Jiang smiles, “I hope you are not offended by such an abrupt dismissal, Young Master Lan. I am sure, once the situation at court has been stabilized, the Emperor will properly express his gratitude. We are in your debt.”

“There is no need,” XiChen says, realizing that he had not expected gratitude, nor does he know what to do with such a sentiment, “I am sure anyone would have done the same.”

“They would not have,” Lady Jiang says easily, her tone unchanging, “but thinking so does you credit. Please do not feel obliged to provide an escort. I am sure the Imperial guards will prove equal to the task, and my chambers are not far.”

Taken aback by the frankness of her words, he only bows in response.

He had not yet considered all the political repercussions of the Lan Sect having saved an Emperor who is so frequently a subject of assassination attempts, but Lady Jiang’s words raise many questions he cannot answer.

What will be the consequences of the Lan Sect aligning themselves so firmly with a Divine Ruler who does not intend to father an heir? Will their actions, committed over the course of the last day and night, be seen as monumentous as the assassination of the Empress had been? Can any succession of honorable deeds ever erase the dishonors of the past?

At this very moment, uncle has many more pressing issues to consider, and will doubtlessly remain occupied by them for days to come. But XiChen wishes he could simply yield to his uncle’s understanding of the matters, as he often had in the past, without having to reason out the answers to these questions on his own.

Chagrin immediately descends, propelling his restless feet to move, as if urging him to run away from such uncomfortable thoughts. XiChen is to be the future Sect leader, to occupy the same seat that uncle now holds. He should never shy away from being guided by those who came before him, but his deference has always been a little too excessive. It is a frequent source of his brother’s frustration, XiChen’s insistence on ceding ground to avoid disharmony and conflict.

It is not for the lack of firm beliefs that XiChen so often gives way. It is simply a habit, one borne of insecurity. In order to hold firm in the face of opposition, one must believe that their own understanding is impeachable, that their opinions have been properly formed, that they are indisputably in the right. XiChen firmly believes that Nie MingJue’s intentions are honorable and genuine, that his own affection is steadfast and unimpeachable, but he has never possessed the necessary self-confidence to insist on this belief in the face of uncle’s disapproval.

Lack of a spine is not a virtue, but XiChen had dressed it up as such, so that others may admire his amicable nature, while he, alone, is left to despise the roots from which it grew. He wonders how long he would have gone on this way, draping his self-doubts in a cloak of respectful deference, had Nie MingJue not entered his life.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Nie MingJue appears at the head of the hall, his stride quick and purposeful. Guards had been sent to inform him that the Emperor is awake, XiChen remembers, and the man doubtlessly expects to be admitted to the Emperor’s chambers without delay. XiChen is certain that Nie MingJue will be disappointed in his expectations. Any conversation that requires the removal of both Lady Jiang and the Imperial guards from the Emperor’s presence must be highly sensitive in nature, and is likely to go on for some time.

The General of the Emperor’s army is no longer wearing his armor, his Nie Sect uniform silver and black, the cut severe, clearly intended to project authority. In the early morning gloom, his face is a collection of shifting shadows, his mood impossible to discern. Faced with such a presence, the few servants finishing up their nightly tasks scurry out of the way with their heads bowed, the guards straighten their shoulders as if expecting to be scolded, even the walls themselves seem to stand at attention.

It strikes XiChen fiercely, how the attributes he admires so fervently in Nie MingJue are those he has always felt a lack of in himself. Even the man’s boldness, so often displayed in mortifying ways, is a trait that XiChen wishes he can possess. It has inspired a boldness of his own, although it appears pitiful when compared to MingJue’s. In the same vein, his own temperance is likely to have suppressed at least some of MingJue’s brashness. They fit, the two of them; one yielding while the other remains unmoved, one sure to hesitate while the other barrels bravely onward.

Do you truly think that there is a single part of you that I will not admire?

MingJue does not have a chance to express his obvious surprise at encountering XiChen during such an early hour, nor is he given an opportunity to ask any questions. XiChen is not certain what his course of action would have been, had MingJue resisted the firm grip on his wrist, had he refused to let himself be steered. To his relief, MingJue obediently allows XiChen to pull him aside, to push him past the unguarded doors of the Emperor’s study.

The room beyond faces south, the early morning light some hours away from reaching the single window hole. XiChen is relieved. He does not want MingJue to see the flush across his cheeks, or to discern the anxiety in his eyes.

Under his hands, MingJue’s braids are impossibly intricate, each one a tiny, delicate wonder. Under his mouth, MingJue is made rigid by surprise.

XiChen had not exactly expected an immediate response. This action, this impulse decision, it is so unlike himself that MingJue may as well think he has been accosted by a stranger. Still, each breath is centuries long, each one riddled with seeds of doubt.

Perhaps XiChen was wrong after all. Perhaps Nie MingJue does not wish to--

He is pulled forward with such force that he stumbles over his own feet. The cold steel of MingJue’s belt scrapes across the tender flesh of his stomach, an earth shattering contact even through two layers of robes. MingJue’s tongue, hot and insistent, licks into his mouth, sliding against his own. The sensation is a shock; XiChen feels it all along his spine, curving around his limbs, pressing into each sensitive stretch of his skin. He does not realize he had tightened his hold on the handful of braids until MingJue makes a sound, a pitiful noise that seems to border on pain. Even as XiChen struggles to release his grip, the arms around his body tighten, a searing hot palm pressed against his shoulder blades locking him in place.

XiChen has never kissed, or been kissed. The few times he had imagined such an act, it had been a rarely reached conclusion of some distinctly chaste fantasies, gone no further than lips pressing together, breathing each other’s air. He does not think that any stretch of fantasies could have prepared him for this.

He is certain that his lack of skill must be obvious. Yet, each hesitant lick of his tongue is followed by a series of shudders he can clearly feel cross MingJue’s shoulders. His own trembling, impossible to suppress, is made less shameful by the knowledge that MingJue is equally as affected. It seems impossible to concentrate on anything but the movement of their lips, the slick slide of their tongues, but XiChen manages to release the handfuls of braids he had gripped. MingJue whines softly, a noise that sounds suspiciously like a complaint.

When their lips part, XiChen finds himself struggling to breathe normally, his chest both too tight for the air he needed, and somehow larger than the space it must occupy.

“XiChen,” MingJue rasps.

His voice is raw and thick, the sound unexpectedly arousing. XiChen is moving to kiss him again before realizing that he has done so, and manages to pull back just in time.

Firmly placing his hands on MingJue’s shoulders, he tries to say what must be said, words he had avoided since his last argument with uncle, “You-- my uncle will only allow your presence at Cloud Recesses if I enter secluded meditation for the duration of your visit. I will not attempt to convince him to change his mind. He does not trust me to behave-- in a virtuous manner, nor do I intend to persuade him otherwise.”

MingJue makes a soft sound, but XiChen does not look up; he is embarrassed enough by the admission as it is, he does not want to know what expression MingJue’s face may hold.

“You had said once that your situation is not nearly as inflexible as my own. If you are still willing-- to offer me a lifetime, I am ready to listen.”

He has hardly finished speaking when MingJue’s mouth finds his own again, infinitely more careful this time, the act very close to the chaste kiss of XiChen’s fantasies. XiChen is the one who presses closer, deepening the kiss, feeling brave and reckless in the wake of his confession.

Perhaps he may never possess MingJue’s boldness, but he has managed to find some of his own in the process; as paltry as such a thing may appear to be, if it serves to ensure him a lifetime of happiness, he will never again view it with scorn.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #nielan #m #ficlet #wwx emperor au #xichen is being silly and self-deprecating #the emperor's study sees some more action #some things are decided #but no things are fully resolved #and onward we go #ily chickens

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ellewords · 3 years

Note

hey elle! i saw your answers for the questions i sent—i love coffee and cookie dough ice cream too! i’ve found that i like a lot of coffee-flavored stuff like ice cream, cake, and candy lol. i also really love cookies and cream! i’d say that’d be my favorite with coffee and cookie dough being VERY CLOSE seconds

BABY DON’T STOP IS ICONIC WHEW but may i propose....haikyuu boys dancing to it.......

anyways today i’ve got some headcanons for a past written on the margins question! first it was a karaoke party with the seijoh 4, and now it’s a road trip! aka you and iwaizumi are the only ones with any braincells in this godforsaken car (they make you handle the gps stuff since you’re the best with it). i can imagine each of them rotating and driving for a set number of hours or at least until they reach a rest stop, especially on long trips. whoever’s sitting shotgun (they rotate between this seat too) has control over the radio and aux cord and oikawa jokes that it’s the best part of going on road trips (but is he really joking though...)

makki and mattsun pretend to groan when you sit shotgun, but in actuality they don’t mind and will probably sing along to some of the songs you play (if there’s a rap part in the song currently playing everyone makes mattsun rap along i feel like his voice just fits it) while oikawa would be like UGH FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME MUSIC TASTE just to get a rise out of the other boys (but he really does think those kpop songs you blast lowkey slap he’s been listening to some of them while he works out or goes on his morning runs). iwa generally doesn’t have much of a preference but i can see him being partial to more upbeat songs to keep him or whoever’s driving awake, but even during slow songs the rest of you guys sing loud enough and chaotic enough to prevent anyone from getting any shut-eye (oikawa, makki, and mattsun dramatically act out a whole SAGA)

when you guys reach any rest stop makki is the first one out of the car and he makes a beeline towards the bathroom because he drank a lot of water during you guys’ impromptu karaoke session (gotta keep those vocal chords taken care of!). oikawa and mattsun are usually the ones in charge of getting snacks, they always end up getting a lot but they make sure to get everyone’s favorites! the amount of snacks they buy seems overkill but they’re athletic boys with voracious appetites and getting this many snacks ensures that the car is never short on food. if this is during or post-timeskip iwa is probably a little more strict on the snacks everyone eats (especially with regards to oikawa, being a professional athlete and all) but eventually decides to let up a bit—it’s not everyday he gets to go on a trip with his close friends, plus all those calories are gonna get burned right away once you guys reach your destination and go from place to place.

god help anyone who actually falls asleep in the car because oikawa and makki are taking photos of whoever’s sleeping with their phones AND with the polarioid camera you brought. despite this, though, everyone makes a conscious effort to be quieter when someone’s napping, and the volume of the radio is turned a bit lower. one of your favorite pictures on your phone is a selfie you took of everyone while you were sitting in the passenger seat: mattsun was driving at the time and though he wasn’t looking at the camera, a smile is on his face as he makes a peace sign with one hand; oikawa, iwa, and makki are sleeping in the back seats with oikawa and makki leaning on iwa’s shoulders (he lost a few rounds of rock paper scissors and had to sit in the middle). this also extends to when you’re asleep in the car as well—oikawa jokingly made his phone background a selfie of you leaning on his shoulder while napping (featuring a blurry iwaizumi at the side) but he actually finds it quite cute and doesn’t want to change it to his usually background quite yet.

it’s evening when you guys finally reach your hotel and everyone’s a bit tired from being cooped up in the car all day but surprisingly enough no one’s really sleepy because everyone at one point had the opportunity to nap on the way there. if you’re dating one of the boys the others DEFINITELY make you two take one room while the other three take the room adjacent to it. after everyone’s gotten ready for bed you’re all gathered in one of the hotel rolls just vibing on your phones and you and oikawa decide it’s the perfect time to bring out The Sheet Masks™️ that you kept in the cooler in the car during the trip so they’d remain cold. many more goofy photos of everyone with the masks on their faces are taken.

by this point it’s late at night and eventually you guys fall into having some nice, genuine heart-to-heart conversations. if this is during or post-timeskip everyone’s sharing what they’ve been up to ever since graduation or ever since you guys last saw/talked to each other. it’s just such a nice and comforting environment to be in because everyone’s a little tired from the day’s events and so it’s not as loud and boisterous, but at the same time this tiredness and it being nighttime means everyone’s filters are a little looser than usual and you could ask for advice on just about anything and everyone else would chime in with both lighthearted and actual suggestions. the boys are just SOFTER during this time like you could bring up how you’ve been getting back into something you did during high school (like playing piano or guitar or something) and they’d want you to show them videos or pictures of what you’ve been up to! maybe one boy brings up something that’s been worrying them for a while and you and the others are giving him words of encouragement while also cracking jokes. it’s just really chill and nice and everyone likes these late night talks because they bring you all a little closer.

everyone ends up sleeping in the same hotel room. you wake up sandwiched between oikawa and mattsun (oikawa’s got an arm thrown around you and mattsun’s long leggies are literally on top of yours and you wonder how you managed to sleep soundly last night) and iwa and makki are on the pull out sofa bed and you’re like Hey Guys. What The Heck (makki takes this opportunity to snap a photo of the three of you wrapped up in the bedcovers) and when you guys go to get breakfast at the hotel buffet it’s strangely quiet because almost everyone is still sleepy lol.

after getting some food in your system and getting ready for the day you’re all back to your usual energetic selves! you snap a mirror selfie of everyone gathered around the sink in one of the hotel rooms because oikawa was finishing getting ready (he takes the longest i just know it) and the other boys were just hanging around him talking about what’s planned for the day. the schedule you guys have isn’t super specific but there’s a few choice locations that you guys looked into in advance and try to visit no matter what! a day out with them is definitely filled with photos. you’ve got a lot of them in which they’re trying to recreate some funny pose in a picture oikawa saw online (like the one of nct in the ask i sent you earlier!!) and they either turn out really great or really horrible (funny) because you have a knack for taking photos where everything looks normal but someone’s face would be really blurry. but they would also try and take some really nice photos too—they’ll all even help you if you want to take some solo shots! oikawa and makki know the best angles for aesthetically pleasing photos, mattsun has a knack for taking panorama photos that look perfect, and iwaizumi’s really good at taking those types of photos of you guys jumping in the air without them looking weird. you’ve basically got four tall hypemen it’s great!!

overall i think it’d be so fun to go on a trip with them because it’s the perfect balance!! they’re chaotic clowns but they also won’t hesitate to give you a piggyback ride if your feet really hurt or if your shoes are giving you blisters (oikawa will try and make iwa give him a piggyback ride too, though). you guys end up getting a lot closer and having a TON of photos and inside jokes at the end of the trip, and though you’re all reluctant to go back, you also all know that this is only the beginning of a lot more outings together! if you take little clips of various events throughout the trip and compile them all together into a little vlog they’ll all probably watch it together through zoom or discord screenshare or something loool

THIS IS SO LONG take a shot (of water) every time i say one of the guys’ names or if i say “everyone” or some variation of it FJDJSNS seijoh 4 brainrot things am i right.....i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing and thinking of this! i think in the future i might think of stuff for if you go on a trip with the miya twins (and maybe suna too?).....hmmm hmmm hmmm!!! —🌸

— from elle ! i love this so so much >_< like literally what do i have to do to go on a road trip with the seijoh four??? it would be so much fun and chaotic and i want that for me,, i love them and their friendship so much it's insane ;-; anyways, thoughts + additions under the cut <33 thank you for this !!

everyone who isn't driving makes it their mission to annoy the one who is; whether it's through repeatedly poking their cheek, asking how long of the drive they have left, etc. the person who can last the longest in driver's seat would probably be iwaizumi, all his years playing volleyball with them as prepared him for this moment — but also looked up breathing exercises to avoid getting angry.

the best person to have riding shotgun would most be mattsun, especially when it's really late or super early ; keeps the conversation going and doesn't fall asleep, even when everyone in the backseat is. he shotguns energy drinks every hour or so.

i love the idea of oikawa, makki, and mattsun acting out a whole saga in the backseat omg !! in my head it's a song like taylor swift's love story wherein makki is the love interest, oikawa is taylor, and mattsun is like the dad who doesn't want them together. they really go all out on the acting — oikawa might have let out a couple of tears — and even iwa cracks a lil smile from the driver's seat.

awe timeskip!iwa watching out for everyone's diets ;-; but i do agree that he's gonna let up a bit considering that everyone doesn't see each other all the time. but i feel like he gives everyone the look™ every now and then despite this.

aw cmon don't hit me with oikawa making his background me leaning on his shoulder as i sleep that's so adorable i might cry :<< but other photos taken during naps include : iwa leaning on oikawa’s shoulder, makki sleeping with his eyes halfway-open ??? mattsun’s face covered in stickers that you impulse-bought at a random stopover.

sheet masks with the boys ??? yes pls !! though iwa would definitely be the type to almost wash his face after and oikawa screeched just before he was able to splash water on his face.

but late in the night heart to hearts ??? ugh, peak softness from the boys — everyone cries at some point because woah all of you really grew so much since high school and it made everyone feel all warm and tender.

but at some point, without thinking, and also bec it’s late and what does he have to lose, iwa just goes “you know, i had a crush on you when we were in high school” at yn and everyone just goes ?!?!?!?!?

yn : what the hell i had a crush on you ????

and oikawa’s just cackling in the background like, “i knew it !!!! both of you kept saying i was crazy for pushing it i feel so vindicated rn”

meanwhile makki hands mattsun some money because they bet on it years ago and they were finally getting answers — makki thought you would confess first and mattsun thought it would be iwa ; several years too late but at least ;//

also i would just love to fall asleep in between oikawa and mattsun,,, please how do i get that

also on mattsun’s panoramas: everyone likes moving around a lot when he takes those photos and it’s the perfect mix of weird and cool because yeah there are like five makki’s but one of them looks like he has a third arm and a triangular head

and the vlog and we all get to watch it together over discord ???? that’s it, that’s what i want ;-;

tldr; I would give anything to go on a road trip with the seijoh four ;((

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like on a road trip? | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi @kokogxddess @tooru--o @meiankolia

join my hq taglist here. <3

#seijoh four road trip how ???#I wanna go on one with them so bad :<<#written on the margins 🔖#haikyuu hcs #🎐 — 🌸sakuranon! <3

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reluctant-mandalore · 4 years

Text

Touch (Din Djarin x Reader)

Word Count: 1911

Warnings: Fluffy, love confessions, and some mention of violence/violence taking place. Not written by me, I’m just the poster <33

Writer: @tobusydaydreaming

Note: Hey guys! This was part of the surprise I had for you today. Today you are receiving two fics!! (The other one will be posted later today) This fic isn’t actually by me, but is instead by my best friend @tobusydaydreaming who asked me to post it for them. They’re amazing and very talented so be sure to show them some love! Also, Reilly I love you, thank you for trusting me with your fic. You’re beautiful and I adore you <3

When you tell someone you like them, like like like them, it can go one of two ways: they either feel the same, or they don’t. If they’re nice, they’ll let you down gently. But what happens when you feel the same? A reciprocated love confession is typically followed by a dramatic kiss, or soft gazes and hand-holding. What happens when neither of you thought you would get to that point and are both internally panicking?

That was the dilemma that a woman and her Mandalorian partner were currently facing. Not three hours earlier were they staring death in the eye together. Both pinned down by a squadron of mercenaries, friends of one of their bounties. The blaster fire and explosions seemed endless, and the pair didn’t think they would fight their way out of this one.

“If we don’t make it out of this,” the woman had said, “I want you to know something!”

The blaster fire was so loud, that the two had to yell to be heard. If they made it, she was sure her voice would never recover. She quickly ducked down, a shot narrowly missing her face.

“And that is?” the Mandalorian, Din Djarin prompted.

“That I am so glad you asked me to be part of your crew. I wouldn’t trade this life for all the credits in the galaxy, and-”

A near-deafening explosion went off just beyond their pitiful defences.

“And I really like you!”

The Mandalorian peaked over the barrier with his blaster, taking down three men in quick succession.

“I really don’t think this is the time!”

She peeked over the barrier too, only hitting one man. Much less impressive than her partner, but at least she didn’t hit the wall this time.

“No, Mando, you’re not listening!”

“Y/N-“

“I really, really like you!”

She watched the Mandalorian’s helmet snap over to where she was crouched. She was sure that his helmet could pick up on the sound of her extremely loud heartbeat. Their moment of pause was short-lived, however, when a brazen man walked around the Mandalorian’s corner, blaster raised. The woman was faster than him, getting a perfect bullseye right in the middle of his forehead, and he dropped. The Mandalorian didn’t even flinch.

“You like me?”

“Have since you saved my ass on Hoth!” she involuntarily shivered. The cold would forever haunt her nightmares.

The blaster fire seemed to falter for a moment, which only meant one thing: recharging. Both the woman and the Mandalorian took this intermission to poke around the corners and shoot at their attackers for as long as possible. They each took down a handful before they started their fire again. The pair sat down beside one another behind their shotty cover.

“If it’s any consolation...I like you too.”

She felt her heart soar and drop simultaneously. She learns the one thing she’s always wanted to know right before she’s about to die? Typical.

How the pair got out was a little tricky to understand. In all the chaos, the Mandalorian and the woman had failed to notice the large crate of explosives three feet away from them. They were somehow able to get it, detonate it, kill everyone but themselves and walk away generally unscathed. Not even they were sure how it all went so perfectly. Maybe Lady Luck decided to stick her neck out.

Their miraculous escape left them feeling sore, exhausted and desperate for hyperspace. The further they were from this hellhole planet, the better. They walked back silently, just looking over at each other from time to time to make sure the other was actually there. Actually alive and with them, because they had something waiting for them back on the Razor Crest. The kid.

The woman had taken on sort of a maternal role for the little green child. She would watch him while his father, the Mandalorian was out hunting. She would play with him and feed him and sing him to sleep, and she loved her job. She loved the kid. She loved the kid’s father, and now he knew it.

This is what weighed on her mind as she sat shotgun in the cockpit of the Crest. The little babbling child had been so excited about his parents' return that he quickly tired himself out. He slept peacefully in the belly of the ship in his floating cradle, dreaming sweet dreams of little blue shrimp and jumping amphibians.

He wasn’t aware of, or old enough to understand, the tension surrounding the Mandalorian and the woman. She knew that they couldn’t just act like they never said what they said. At least, she couldn’t. But she didn’t know if it was too soon to bring it up. They did almost just die, after all. But watching the stars reflecting off his helmet, the way they seemed to dance, she couldn’t wait.

“So...you like me too, huh? How uh...how long has that been a thing?”

She was about ten seconds away from throwing herself out the nearest window. The fact that they were in space made it all the better. She could die quickly and take her embarrassment with her. Her companion stiffened, but only for a moment. He stayed quiet for a bit, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Since Hoth.” came his modulated reply.

The woman went big-eyed in disbelief. This entire time, he had liked her back? Did he also lay awake at night asking “what if?” Did he also let his gaze linger when she had her back turned? If she hadn’t been so shocked, she would have been furious.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A pause.

“Nope.”

She scoffed at him, but she had a large smile on her face. Then, the Mandalorian did something the woman did not expect. He hit a few buttons and moved a knob or two, before turning his chair to face the woman head-on. She stared into his visor, trying her best to look him in the eye. But she could only see the reflection of her own looking back at her.

That was what always concerned her. He was a Mandalorian, and he lived and breathed their creed. The culture was something Din Djarin held very close to his heart, and the woman had always respected that. Her life and personality were vastly different from that of the Mandalorian, and she had always wondered if that eliminated any chance of being more than friends.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you. I’ve never really had anything like,” the Mandalorian gestured vaguely between them, “this. I don’t even know where to start.”

The woman didn’t think there would be anything else that could really surprise her. Yet here she was, being proven wrong. When he wasn’t terrifying and spoke more than one sentence, Din Djarin was very sweet. No matter how short or blunt they were, his words were always kind. So the woman couldn’t help but wonder why a Mandalorian woman hadn’t bagged him in the past.

“Can Mandalorians even date outside of the creed?” she asked.

It was so faint she could have missed it. A louder than normal exhale of air from the Mandalorian. A chuckle.

“We can. It’s just...not as common. Other Mandalorians accept the creed better than those who aren’t.”

The creed. It was the creed that forbade her from ever seeing Din Djarin’s face. Unless they were married, which had been an impossibility when she had woken up that morning. Sure, she had felt his face before. In the dark of night, just barely making out the silhouette of his body. With a blindfold on, being guided by his hands. With her eyes closed in the biggest act of trust between them. She had always been accepting of the creed, but she couldn’t help longing to see the man under the mask.

She wondered if that was part of why he liked her. She wasn’t exactly the cream of the crop when it came to dating options. Her aim was slightly off, she couldn’t tell you what tool you were holding and her flying was alright on a good day. But she was loyal and dependable and damned if she wasn’t determined. She was a stable constant in Din Djarin’s life, and that was no easy feat.

“I guess we can start wherever we want. Wherever we feel comfortable starting.” the woman said.

Both the woman and the Mandalorian sat in a comfortable silence, deep in thought. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle hum of the Crest’s engine. If you listened closely, you could hear it straining through hyperspace. How the ship wasn’t falling apart at the seams, the woman would never know. But it had become home. The smells, the mechanical problems and the little corner of the storage room she claimed as her sleeping area. It was small and cramped, but there was nowhere else she would rather be.

“I have an idea if it’s not too much for you.”

A modulated hmm was the Mandalorian’s response. The woman held out her hand, making a grabbing motion. The Mandalorian tentatively reaches out and placed his hand in hers. She smiled. It was a smile that never failed to made Din Djarin’s chest warm. It was that smile that made every bad thing seem worthwhile.

The woman gently peeled the thick, leather glove off one hand. It was calloused, coated in scars and twice the size of hers. She held it gently in both of hers with a softness that was so very foreign to Din Djarin. At least, it was until he met her. She had felt his bare skin before, helping with the odd injury here and there. But this was a first. Hand holding for hand holding’s sake.

She played with her partner’s hand, moving her fingers gliding along his palm and intertwining their fingers every so often. It was one of the few precious moments that the two of them so rarely got. A calm in between the storm of hunting bounties. The Mandalorian spread his hand out flat, lining the two hands palm to palm.

They sat like that for a few moments, just basking. The woman then moved her partner's hand, placing it gently against her cheek. The rough thumb of the Mandalorian began to rub small circles and patterns against the woman’s cheek. She sighed in response, closing her eyes and pushing her face more into the Mandalorian’s grasp. Physical affection was something both were new to, but craved so deeply.

“We can go as slow as we want, Din.”

Din Djarin absorbed her words. Kind words that danced across his mind and made him feel light. Since he had never really put any thought into relationships, he never realized that he could feel so light. Genuine kindness, especially when it’s directed at him, was worth more than any credits a bounty could give him.

The woman shifted her face even more so that her lips connected with the Mandalorian’s hand. She peppered a trail of soft, ghost-like kisses across the palm, up to the tips of his fingers, then back down again. She planted one final kiss in the middle of her partner’s hand, lingering there a little longer. The woman opened her eyes, still caressing the Mandalorian’s hand against her face.

“I’d like that,” he said. “I really would.”

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earliebirb · 4 years

Text

in your arms

steve/tony, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1871 words

It is one of those rare days where Tony wakes up earlier than Steve. Of course, it’s not by choice. Pepper has insisted for a few days in a row now that it is imperative that he attends the board meeting scheduled at Stark Industries HQ today and that further rescheduling will not be possible.

If Tony had a say about it, Tony would rather wake up a few hours later, hopefully just in time to rope Steve into a round of lazy indulgent morning sex instead of letting him go for his run. Tony smiles just at the thought of it and gazes wistfully down at his husband’s peacefully sleeping figure, body curled up and leaning into Tony’s side of the bed where Tony had been lying just thirty minutes ago. Tony watches as Steve snuggles closer to Tony’s pillow, unconsciously chasing Tony’s body warmth even in his sleep. Tony snaps his cufflinks into place, letting out a heavy sigh before pulling the comforter to cover more of Steve’s body, keeping him warm. Satisfied, he leans down to plant a lingering kiss on Steve’s temple.

“See you later, sweetheart,” he whispers, before allowing his knuckles to caress Steve’s cheek one last time. When he eventually stands up and pulls away, it is not without considerable effort.

Tony spends the rest of the day in and out of various meetings, just as scheduled, and it is just as physically and emotionally draining as Tony had imagined. Judging from the various texts Steve has sent him throughout the day, Tony supposes Steve hasn’t been coping very well with his absence either, a thought that simultaneously warms Tony’s heart and makes him concerned. Steve always misses him when he’s away, of course, but the frequency of Steve’s texts today is quite… unusual. Steve would usually send him maybe two or three texts throughout the day when he knows that Tony is busy at SI, just little reminders for him to remember to eat or asking when he would be back. Today, though, Steve has been spending an unusually large amount of time on his phone, texting Tony. On the plane heading back to New York, Tony lets himself reread all of the texts Steve has sent him since he left for the Los Angeles SI HQ at the crack of dawn.

His first text reads:

>Have a good day at work, sweetheart. Stay safe. I love you. (5:15 AM)

Tony’s eyes linger at the timestamp, noting that Steve has woken up much earlier than usual, after about two hours since he left. He usually wakes up at seven for his morning run.

>Sorry I wasn’t awake to see you off. (6:13AM)

>Are you on the plane already? (6:30 AM)

>Sweetheart? (6:37 AM)

>hi baby. sorry, just woke up from a nap. still on the plane. (8:21 AM)

>Have you had breakfast? (8:21 AM)

>sipping on some coffee as we speak. (8:25 AM)

>Eat something, Tony. Not just coffee. (8:26 AM)

>yes, mom. (8:31 AM)

>Tony. Please eat something. (8:33 AM)

>jk. munching on a bagel, i promise. gotta go baby, plane’s landing soon. love you. (8:56 AM)

>OK, sweetheart. Take care. I love you. (8:56 AM)

>Hi, sweetheart. I hope you’re having a good day. I miss you. (11:13 AM)

>I’m thinking of watching one of the movies from the list you gave me. Do you think I should watch Forrest Gump or The Godfather first? (12:07 PM)

>Darling, have you had lunch? (1:03 PM)

>sorry honey. meeting just finished. (2:32 PM)

>happy got me and pep burritos for lunch. what did u have for lunch? (2:32 PM)

>also,, do NOT watch the godfather without me!!! (2:33 PM)

>Forrest Gump it is. Bruce made lasagna. Wish you were here. (2:34 PM)

>What time are you getting in? (2:37 PM)

>mmm 11/12?? dont wait up, babe. (3:32 PM)

>Have a safe flight. Miss you. (3:33 PM)

>miss you more. (4:37 PM)

>hey baby i’m on the plane heading back. see u soon! (5:12 PM)

Tony stares at his phone screen, fingers of his other hand drumming a rapid beat on the armrest. Steve just stopped texting Tony entirely after spending almost the entire day on his phone. Tony slips his phone into his pocket and leans back to settle more comfortably in his seat. It’s going to be another long flight back and he’s been dying to get some shut-eye. It’s been a long day.

The last thing Tony sees before sleep takes him away is the sight of cotton-white clouds slowly drifting by.

The second Tony makes it into the Tower’s elevator, he questions Jarvis on Steve’s whereabouts even as he presses the button for the penthouse.

“Captain Rogers is currently showering at the gym, Sir.”

“Showering? At the gym? At this hour?” Tony glances at his watch. It’s ten minutes past midnight.

Tony cancels the button for the penthouse and goes down to the gym level instead. Sure enough, he hears the sound of the shower running as the elevator doors slide open. Tony sits on one of the benches in the gym and waits patiently for Steve to finish showering. From the corner of his eye, he sees something that confirms his suspicions as to why Steve is down at the gym: Steve’s punching bag hangs still from the ceiling. He gazes thoughtfully at the supersoldier strength-proof punching bag--his own handiwork--and wonders if something is bothering Steve. The evidence so far seems to lead to that particular conclusion. His husband eventually comes out in a white bathrobe, drying his damp hair with a white towel, looking exhausted and grumpy at the same time. It’s a testament to how out of it Steve is that he doesn’t notice Tony’s presence before he speaks.

“Hey, hot stuff. Why the long face?”

Steve’s head shoots up and his hands freeze in their previous motion of drying his hair. He continues to stare at Tony like a deer caught in headlights. Slowly, Steve lets the towel hang around his neck.

“Honey? You okay?” Tony rises from the bench, approaching Steve.

He makes all of three steps before Steve strides purposefully towards him and promptly lifts him up, bridal style.

“What the-- Steve?” Tony questions, beyond confused.

Steve looks down at him briefly then makes his way to the elevator, all the while still carrying Tony wordlessly. Steve carries him all the way up the penthouse, into their bedroom, before gently laying him down on the bed.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the grand romantic gesture, baby, but is everything okay?” Tony asks as he scoots back up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

Steve, still silent with his grumpy frown firmly set in place, begins to crawl on the bed towards Tony before planting his head in Tony’s lap, face looking up at Tony. Then, he turns and buries his face in Tony’s stomach.

“Sweetheart?” Tony whispers, still confused even as butterflies fill his stomach at the way Steve curls impossibly closer into him, one of his arms curling around Tony’s back.

When Steve eventually speaks, he sounds incredibly tired, his voice muffled by Tony’s stomach: “I missed you so much.”

Tony chuckles. “Is that what this is about? I missed you too, honey.”

Steve turns so that now he is looking straight up at Tony, his blue eyes gazing at Tony’s face intently, as if he’s trying to commit every feature into memory. Steve reaches for one of Tony’s hands and plants it in his hair. Tony’s smile widens and dutifully begins carding his fingers through Steve’s blond locks, still damp from shower.

Steve lets out a content sigh, closing his eyes, looking like there is no other place he would rather be, like all is right in his world again. Steve reaches for Tony’s other hand and holds it in both of his, playing with his fingers like they are the most fascinating thing in the world.

“I woke up from a nightmare this morning,” Steve confesses, tracing the lines of Tony’s palm, “about… losing you.”

Tony hums thoughtfully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve tenses, expression darkening as his grip on Tony’s fingers tightens minutely. “We were in a battle and-- You were--” He takes a deep breath and releases it in one slow exhale.

“You were bleeding out on me. And I tried to stop it-- But there was just too much blood. There was blood everywhere, on you, on my hands, and you were looking up at me but you weren’t looking at me. There was no-- Life. In your eyes. I could feel you fading. You were leaving me.”

Steve sniffs. He swallows roughly before continuing, “It just felt so… real. I woke up from the nightmare and you weren’t there. I could feel myself starting to panic, until Jarvis reminded me that you had to leave for a flight today.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” Tony strokes one of Steve’s eyebrows comfortingly. He has had a few nightmares like that himself and waking up to Steve’s warm weight against him has always been more than comforting. He can just imagine the terror creeping up his body if he woke up from a nightmare about losing Steve--caught between sleep and reality--and Steve weren’t around to counter his demons.

“Sorry for the non-stop texts today. I had to--” Steve swallows before looking up at Tony, eyes searching every corner of his face. He raises one of his hands to cup Tony’s cheek and Tony leans into the touch. “Had to make sure you were okay.”

“Don’t apologize, you know I love it when you text me. Although I did think it was odd that you were texting me so frequently. Why’d you stop texting me then?”

Steve sighs, attention going back to Tony’s calloused fingers. “I tried watching Forrest Gump, but I just felt so… restless.” Steve shakes his head.

“So you headed down to the gym?” Tony guesses.

Steve shrugs. “I knew if I didn’t I would just keep bothering you, so I brought out the punching bag.”

“Poor punching bag,” Tony teases, trying to lighten up the mood. Steve just gazes at him silently, his eyes heavy with emotion, like he’s still trying to convince himself that Tony is right there with him. Alive and well.

Tony smiles, leans down to plant a kiss between Steve’s eyebrows before patting his cheek lightly.

“Come on! Let’s go to sleep.”

Later--after Tony and Steve have both stripped out of their clothes--they lie close together, pressed skin to skin, Steve burying his face in the crook of Tony’s neck. Tony listens quietly to Steve’s breathing as he traces small circles on Steve’s shoulder.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

As Steve’s breathing gets slow and steady, just before he falls asleep, he murmurs into Tony’s neck, half-conscious, “Tony… Don’t go, okay? Don’t leave me.”

Tony’s arms tighten around him briefly, strong and reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling. I promise. I will stay right here, in your arms.”

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something

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gingrrfrog · 4 years

Text

these nights (5)

word count: 5.4k ... also long

warnings: angst, car accident injuries,

summary: standing in front of machines that kept him alive, yejin never imagined that jeno had this many secrets and so many people that were willing to keep them.

a/n: another long one 😔 also day 12 of the quarantine :]

masterlist

“Now, Jaemin!”

Yejin pulled her head away from the phone, staring at her phone with her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yejin, baby? I’ve got to go, okay? I’ll call you later.”

“Jaemin? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“I uh,” she listened to him clear his throat before he paused momentarily, “I don’t know yet, Angel. I’m sorry, I’ll call you.”

“O-okay…be safe. I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart. So much.”

Jaemin kissed the phone and before Yejin could ask anything else, the call ended and the same unease was found in her stomach. She took a shaky deep breath before placing her cell phone in front of her, watching as her hands trembled and as she wept. She watched as the beginnings of her hands began numbing as it slowly crept up her arms and began nipping at her nose. She continued taking deep breaths as she walked towards the freezer, taking a clump of ice in her hands and pressing it against her neck, counting her breathing before walking to the bathroom, walking past a sleeping Jihyun as she tried to her best to calm herself down.

The ice was beginning to melt and drip down her shirt, once they were tiny pebbles, she dropped them down the drain and took great care in her skin routine. With equally cold water, she washed her face, watching her red nose soothe at the sensation as she continued to scrub at her face somewhat forcefully, reprimanding herself mentally as she knew this wasn’t conducive to adequate skincare. On the other hand, she couldn’t find herself caring too much about it either. Wiping her face with her towel, she moved to the shower, turning the water on to a warm setting before peeling her clothes off layer by layer, stepping inside and feeling somewhat relieved at the warm water despite the cold she felt earlier.

After her shower, she continued the rest of her skincare routine with her towel wrapped around her body, padding barefoot back to her room and looking for a pair of sleeping clothes in the dark, being careful not to wake up Jihyun—although, she gathered it would be difficult to do so judging by the snores coming from the bed. Her routine took an hour and forty-five minutes, almost twice as long as her regular time when Jaemin and Jeno were home.

Finally sinking into her sheets, she stared at the clock and constantly tossed and turned until the clock showed 11:33, where she heard Jihyun groan out in frustration. She lifted herself up from the bed almost like a zombie, somehow half-stomping and half dragging her feet as she walked awkwardly towards the bathroom, using it quickly before noticing Yejin awake with her phone in hands.

“Why are you awake?” She asked sleepily, curling back in the bedsheets with her eyes closed.

“I can’t sleep,” Yejin replied nonchalantly. “I usually sleep pretty late anyway.”

Judging by her walk and the way Jihyun barely spoke above a whisper, Yejin wasn’t entirely sure if Jihyun was awake at all. It wasn’t until she took her hand that she noticed that Jihyun was fully awake, placing her hand on top of her belly and feeling something squirm within her.

“She keeps me up all night, sometimes she pushes at my bladder and wakes me up,” Jihyun grumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleep, Yejin. If not for you, then for us, who can’t so easily.”

Yejin laughed quietly, “I guess you’re right.”

“‘M always right,” she hummed, curling Jeno’s pillow close to her chest. “Never wrong.”

Yejin smiled before closing her eyes. She wondered if Yejin had some kind of superpower to make her feel tired because the second she closed her eyes, it’s almost as if sleep took the cue. Exhaustion weighed down on her shoulders as she fell fast asleep, dreaming of Jeno and Jaemin and having them close to her again.

When she woke up again, it was nearly ten am, and it was to Jihyun’s snores that were progressively getting louder. It was later than Yejin would usually wake up, but not by much considering the sun was high in the sky, beaming into her bedroom almost as if there hadn’t been a snowstorm for the past two days. She checked her phone and frowned slightly to herself when she saw no new messages nor missed calls—she told herself that Jaemin might still be asleep, considering he had a worse sleeping schedule than she.

Yejin then noticed Jihyun’s arm curled around her waist, cuddling her close as she took advantage of the baby being asleep as well. Carefully, Yejin removed her arm and placed it on top of a pillow, watching as Jihyun instantly brought it to her chest and continued to snore. She laughed quietly to herself before stretching her arms, stepping out of the bed to continue stretching before continuing her morning routine.

After brushing her teeth, she walked over towards the kitchen, searching the refrigerator for breakfast items, noticing a few eggs and a few potatoes in the fridge. She took them out and chopped potatoes, tomatoes, and green onion to herself quietly, relishing in the sounds of crunchy vegetables being chopped in a silent room before dropping them in a sizzling pan. In a bowl, she cracked those few eggs and whisked them intently before pouring them in another sizzling pan, smiling at the sound as she shook it back and forth.

The potatoes were starting to brown nicely, so Yejin decided to pull them off the stove and onto a plate, covering them generously with cheese before layering another bowl on top to ensure the steam would melt the cheese equally. Just as Yejin was plating the eggs, Jihyun emerged from the bedroom, her hand over her belly as she blinked blearily at the sun. Yejin almost wanted to scoff, there’s no way someone like Jihyun should be real, much less eating cheesy potatoes in her kitchen.

She sort of understood why Jaehyun put her nudes under lock and key, now.

“Goodmorning,” Jihyun smiled weakly, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, Yejin, I could’ve—“

“I’m sure you could’ve called another master chef celebrity, but have you ever thought that I wanted to showcase my skills for you?”

Jihyun laughed, thanking Yejin for the meal before digging in. “Eggs and cheesy potatoes, I see. Very American.”

“Something I’m very good at,” Yejin grinned, watching as Jihyun groaned at the flavor.

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” she cried. “If I eat cheesy potatoes for the rest of my pregnancy and gain ten pounds I’m coming for you.”

“Do you like them? I think I might’ve over seasoned them—“

“They’re amazing,“ Jihyun shushed her quickly. “Hurry and eat, I can’t be the only one eating like this.”

They ate in partial silence, occasionally perking up to say something, which would receive a small response before they ate again. It was comfortable, Yejin thought to herself. She appreciated that Jihyun wasn’t the type to always demand conversation despite knowing Jihyun herself loved to talk. In lieu of speaking, Jihyun looked over her phone. She had mentioned the day before that the most important phone after the boss’ was not the consigliere, but the boss’ wife’s phone, and she could see the appeal. Jihyun’s phone was full of notifications from emails, missed calls and text messages, but judging by the look of surprise on her face, Yejin gathered that even this was too many to be considered normal. She picked her phone up from the table and read something from her phone, her eyebrows knitting together in what looked like worry and concern.

“Is everything alright?” Yejin prodded gently, watching as Jihyun’s face immediately fixed itself into a smile.

“Yep! I’ve got to make some calls, you keep eating, it’s Taeyong and supply questions.”

Yejin nodded and returned her smile, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that she was lying. Instead of saying anything about it, she watched as she left for the bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking the door.

Yejin didn’t feel too hungry after that, luckily she had made it through most of her meal before standing up and taking Jihyun’s empty plate, walking towards the sink and calmly washing the dishes, taking extra care to count how many times she swirled the sponge around each dish before placing it in the drying rack.

Jihyun appeared at her last dish, making eye contact with Yejin and giving her another smile, a smaller one this time as she sat back in her seat.

“Everything under control?” Yejin asked, her eyes not leaving the sink as she continued to wash the now clean plate.

“Yes,” Jihyun cleared her throat. “Jaehyunie called me after, he’s coming to pick us up later.”

“For?” Yejin gripped the sponge, scrubbing at the porcelain plate as she was sure she was going to chip the paint.

“I’m not sure,” Jihyun mumbled. “He’ll be here soon.”

Yejin nodded. She released the poor plate out of its misery as she put it on the drying rack with the others, “okay. I’m going to go get changed.”

“Sure, of course.”

Yejin watched as Jihyun began to pack up her things, slowly shoving them in her duffel bag before Yejin closed the door to get out of her pajamas. She heard the front door open and Jihyun welcomed her fiancé, tiptoeing just slightly out of the room to hear what they were talking about.

“Are you okay?” Jihyun asked after a kiss

“I’m fine, baby. What about you? Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, we just stayed inside the whole time,” Jihyun replied. Yejin watched from the reflection of the mirror across the couch, noticing Jihyun snuggling into Jaehyun’s arms, relief on her face before she checked Jaehyun. “Is Jeno okay?”

“He’s safe. I’ll tell you more at the hospital.” Jaehyun said firmly, “Did you tell her?”

“No, I told her I didn’t know anything,” Jihyun frowned. “It’s not a lie, but I don’t like doing that.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I won’t ask you to do that again, I just want to make sure that I want to avoid panic.”

“No offense, but your texts didn’t do a good job of doing that.”

“I realized that now…sorry.”

Yejin appeared from around the corner, causing Jihyun to pull away from Jaehyun’s embrace as the latter offered her a somber look as a greeting.

“Ready?” Jihyun smiled.

Yejin nodded without a word, following Jihyun with her hand tightly clasped with hers, walking out of their apartment as Jihyun led the way down the stairs and towards Jaehyun’s BMW that was waiting outside. Jihyun sat in the back with Yejin as Jaehyun shoved her luggage in the back of the car, watching as the taller man walked back around to the driver’s seat and started the car anew.

Yejin noticed five minutes into the drive that they were taking the cursed road to the hospital, her stomach churning as Jaehyun parked close to the entrance. It was some kind of sick solace that they didn’t park in emergency at least, as Jihyun continued to hold her hand towards the main entrance of the hospital and immediately towards the elevator. Jaehyun pressed the Up button as the elevator almost instantly opened, stepping aside and allowing Jihyun and Yejin to step inside first before he did, watching as he pressed the number seven and as the elevator closed its doors.

Yejin’s stomach rose and fell with the elevator, the elevator dinging wide open.

“Seventh Floor: Intensive Care Unit,” The robotic female voice said. Yejin’s eyes widened as her head snapped back towards Jaehyun, watching his face scrunch up into a wince.

So much for trying to avoid panic.

Jihyun squeezed her hand as Jaehyun got out first, leading the two behind him down hallways and hallways of rooms. The labyrinth seemed to end after two turns as Yejin could see a tall figure in the distance standing outside a room with his chin in hand, pacing back and forth. Once Yejin recognized it to be Jaemin, she let all her guards fall, crying instantly as she ran into his arms and crashing against his chest violently, weeping although she had no idea what was behind the door

“It’s okay, Yejin. It’s okay, he’s okay.” Jaemin said softly in her ear, but it was incredibly difficult to believe when his own voice was also wavering with emotion.

“Are you okay, are you hurt?” Yejin asked immediately after, pulling away and frantically searching in his coat and shirt before tilting his head back and forth to look for any wounds. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, baby,” Jaemin took a deep breath before placing his hands on her face. “Jeno is inside…they flipped the car over last night. We still don’t have much to go on this theory with but we think the location last night was a set up.”

Yejin’s eyes searched the area of his face for some kind of lie, but Jaemin’s face was as solemn as they came. “Who flipped it, Jaemin? Set up for what, I don’t understand—“

“I don’t know either, Angel,” Jaemin frowned, his thumbs caressing under her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

Yejin let a few more tears escape as Jaemin wiped them carefully, “Is he okay?”

“A few broken bones, a bruised lung,” he grimaced. “That’s not what the doctor was too worried about, though. Jeno hit his head really hard on something. We’re not sure what, but his brain swelled up pretty bad. Doctor put him under until the swelling goes down, just so it doesn’t hurt.”

Yejin winced, her head falling back on his chest as she continued to cry.

“He’ll make a full recovery, Angel…he just has to sleep for a while. That’s all.”

“God, I fucking knew something was going to go wrong, I felt in my stomach I couldn’t sleep last night,” she wept. “I should’ve said something, I—“

“Nothing you could’ve done would’ve stopped this, Yejin. This isn’t your fault.” Jaemin reassured, rubbing her back before leading her towards the door. “Let’s go inside.”

Yejin almost refused to look at him. She walked inside the door with her head shoved into Jaemin’s chest as he stood in front of what she could only imagine was the bed Jeno was resting on. She could hear the machinery in the background, signaling a steady heartbeat that allowed Yejin to gather the strength to peer out of Jaemin’s coat.

It did nothing to soothe her as she watched Jeno breathe with the help of a few tubes, her hands trembling as she continued to sob. Had it not been for the mole under his right eye she would’ve never recognized him, falling to her knees as she took his cold hand, hands that were always warmer in comparison to hers.

“Oh Jeno,” she wept softly. “My baby, what did they do to you, my love?”

Jaemin was close behind, his hand on her neck before she turned around to cry in his legs again.

“Get up from the floor, baby,” Jaemin said softly. “It’s dirty.”

“I want to stay here,” she sniffled. “What if he gets lonely?”

“Jaemin is right, Angel.” Jihyun suddenly said behind her, rubbing her back as she eased her on her feet. “The floor is dirty, we’ll get you a chair.”

Jaehyun scooted an arm chair next to Jeno’s bed with help from Jaemin. Jihyun curled into Jaehyun’s hold as she watched Yejin take a seat on the chair, her head resting next to Jeno’s hand as she held it tightly, her fingers running over his knuckles as she continued to sniffle next to him. Jihyun’s heart broke at the sight, turning her head into his chest as she tried to fight tears of her own.

“Do you want to go home?” Jaehyun asked softly. Jihyun nodded.

Jaehyun and Jihyun said their goodbyes. Jaemin accepted only a hand on his shoulder from his brother as a silent goodbye and a kiss on the cheek from Jihyun with a weak smile. Jihyun kissed the top of Yejin’s head before telling her goodbye, a squeeze from Jaehyun’s hand and they were left alone.

Yejin was nowhere near ready to let go of Jeno’s hand until an hour and half after Jaehyun and Jihyun took their leave, noticing that Jaemin hadn’t sat down since. She looked up from her post and noticed that Jaemin was asleep standing up. She pulled away from Jeno’s hand and watched as his eyes flashed open, stumbling a bit backwards before catching himself with the help from Yejin’s hands.

“Jaemin, did you sleep last night?”

Said man shook his head, rubbing at his eyes before yawning deeply, “I couldn’t.”

Yejin got up from her spot on the chair and took Jaemin’s hand to pull him towards the couch, laying down and pulling Jaemin next to her, “sleep.”

“But—“

“If anything happens, we’ll both be here,” she reassured, running her fingers through his hair as he snuggled closer to her. “Sleep, Jaemin.”

It took less than five minutes for Jaemin to fall asleep, the twenty-two hours he had been awake were beginning to drive him insane. Yejin had woken up late either way, so she didn’t feel too tired as she continued to run her fingers through his hair and Jaemin breathed softly next to her. She noticed at that point that Jeno and Jaemin were breathing at the same rate, and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but to smile. She really did feel like she was intruding on their own romance sometimes.

Jaemin was awake for two hours when Yejin heard running outside before their door swung open, a very frantic Jisung lugging take out food in his hands appearing in front before he dropped it on the nearby table.

The youngest Jung brother had yet to take notice in Yejin and Jaemin’s appearance before Jisung ran towards Jeno sleeping figure, his hands running through his own hair before he looked over the body twice, “Jeno hyung! Oh my god, Jeno hyung—“

Jaemin groaned in his sleep, causing the youngest to snap his head to see Yejin sitting against the couch with Jaemin in her arms, still fast asleep.

“Oh, Yejin noona, I’m sorry,” Jisung suddenly whispered. He walked over towards the two before he took a seat in front of them, using the plastic chair seeing that the other two were occupied.

“What brings you here?” Yejin whispered.

“Jaehyun hyung asked me if I could do a favor after school, so I brought some food,” Jisung frowned deeply before looking back at Jeno. “I didn’t think this was why, though.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Yejin reassured, somehow finding it hilarious considering she had been the one crying for three hours.

“Are you sure…he doesn’t…look okay,” Jisung added carefully. Despite being dense at times, Jisung was fully capable of reading the room, most definitely noticing Yejin’s tired-from-crying eyes the second he saw her.

“I’ve been told, at least.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“A car accident from work, apparently.”

“How?”

Yejin gave a soft smile, shaking her head, “you know I’m not allowed to tell you Jisung.”

Jisung huffed in disbelief, “those rules only apply to Jaemin hyung and Jeno hyung, they don’t apply to you, noona!”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, Jisung. What if Jaehyun oppa finds out I’ve told you? Then who gets in trouble?”

“Me, I’ll tell him that I’m taking the suneung next week, and I’ll be an adult in a few months.”

Yejin continued to shake her head, “not a chance, Jisung.”

Jisung was the youngest of the three Jung brothers, a high schooler who was always too curious for his own good. Jaemin used to tell stories of Jisung hiding in their father’s office to hear about work, being yanked out by his shirt collar by Jaehyun or his father depending on who caught him first.

Nearing the end of their father’s life, Jaehyun became his primary at guardian at 25, taking care of his then 15 year old brother until he was accepted into an academy nearby, dorming with students his age and far from the life of delinquency both Jaehyun and Jaemin kept him from. However, this still didn’t ease her curiosity, often asking for updates and information despite Jaehyun scolding and reprimanding him time and time again. To help ease curiosity, Jaehyun presented an ultimatum: either Jisung end with curiosity and stick with school or work for his brother full time, dropping out of his dream school. Very obviously, Jisung chose the first option, but it still didn’t stop him from sneaking some information every so often from whatever Jihyun could tell him, but even then, it was low grade gossip and nowhere near the level his brothers talked at.

Jisung called bluff, but he never expected everyone to be so serious about it.

“Fine,” Jisung pouted. “I didn’t want to know anyway.“

“Good, that makes this easier for the both of us.”

Jisung scooted closer, “but can’t you tell me—“

“Enough, Jisung,” Jaemin’s deep voice came from Yejin’s chest. Jisung closed his mouth at the sound of his very irritated older brother, his pout deepening as his shoulders sagged.

“I’ll leave it alone,” Jisung sighed, scratching the back of his head aggressively before looking back at Jeno and to his wrist. “I guess I’ll get going. I got permission to leave for lunch because Jaehyun hyung called, but class will start sometime soon again.”

“Study hard, Jisung,” Yejin smiled. “We’re all rooting for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jisung smiled bashfully, waving as he made his way towards the door, “I’ll see you around. Campus isn’t that far from the hospital so I’ll be around more often.”

“Can’t wait,” Jaemin grumbled from Yejin’s hold.

Jisung narrowed his eyes, “what did he say?”

“He said don’t be late!” Yejin waved, watching as Jisung closed the door behind him. Yejin looked down at Jaemin. His eyes were still closed but there was no doubt he was awake at this rate.

“Jisung brought food, are you hungry?”

Jaemin squeezed his eyes before opening them slowly, squinting at the fluorescent lighting before rubbing at his eyes harshly, “kinda. What did he bring?”

“Chicken, I think.”

“Oh, thank god. I thought he cooked.” Jaemin smiled, lifting himself up from her hold and sitting on the couch, continuing to rub his eyes as Yejin brought the food towards them.

“I don’t think your brother would’ve sent Jisung if he had cooked,” Yejin smiled, opening the fried chicken box as they munched chicken quietly. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I feel better, for the most part,” Jaemin yawned, rubbing his neck before taking a chicken wing. “I don’t think a two hour nap has the ability to go against almost an entire day of no sleep though.”

“Are you going to stay the night here? If not, we can go home and sleep.”

Jaemin shook his head, “Johnny hyung said he was staying the night. I think they’ll be back later, my brother and Johnny hyung. I think they want to talk about the next move, or whatever.”

Yejin nodded, silently eating her food and noticing Jaemin barely picking at the bits of his food. She didn’t find it strange at all, she wasn’t hungry all that much herself, but she can’t imagine that Jaemin had any kind of meal before this. Regardless, they kept eating, slowly no doubt, but steadily until Jaemin finally pushed the box away from him. Yejin took care to throw away the trash outside of the room, sliding back inside and noticing Jaemin sitting upright next to the armchair, looking through his phone while his free hand held Jeno’s.

She took it upon herself to sit on his lap, Jaemin immediately letting go of his phone before wrapping it around her waist. Yejin tilted his head back with her fingertips, watching as Jaemin gave her a weak smile before puckering his lips. Yejin chuckled to herself before leaning in to kiss him gently before cradling his head to her chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I can be.”

“What’s stopping you?” She mumbled, glancing over Jeno, “besides the obvious?”

“To be honest with you, I have no idea what I’m feeling. Whatever it is,” Jaemin moved his hand from her waist to her thigh, “it’s not good.”

Jaemin let go of Jeno’s hand to pull her closer, cradling her completely and locking his hands around her legs. Yejin got comfortable, resting her cheek against the crown of her head before she continued, “are you mad?”

“Towards?”

“Your brother?”

“Why would I be mad at Jisung?”

“You know that’s not who I meant, Jaem.”

Jaemin sighed, rubbing his girlfriend’s thigh as he took a moment to think, “I don’t think I’m directly mad at him, but I’m not entirely too happy with his methodology right now.”

“I understand.”

The couple continued to sit in silence before a thought slowly fanned into her brain. She bit her lip, wondering how to bring it up before Jaemin shuffled closer to her chest, specifically her heart.

“Your heart is racing?” Jaemin mentioned, looking up in confusion, “are you feeling okay?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Angel. Anything.”

“Why…” No, not like that. “How come you…” no. I don’t want him to think I’m blaming him either.

“Yes?”

“Is there a reason why you never told me Jeno had a sister?”

Jaemin froze under her. He was quiet for a moment, his hold on her loosening as she could almost hear the cogs in his brain turning.

“Who told you?” Out of the ways Yejin thought he would react, she never would’ve thought it would be cold.

“Does it matter?”

“Partially.”

“So, it partially doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Yejin.”

Yejin pulled herself away from his head to look at him, her eyebrows knitted together and her eyes slightly narrowed, “so then why are you telling me it partially matters when it definitely matters who told me?”

“Because whoever told you didn’t have the authority nor the right,” Jaemin snipped

“Jaehyun oppa told me.” Indirectly, she thought to herself. Via Jihyun.

Jaemin snorted, “of course he did.”

“I just want to know why he didn’t tell me, Jaemin. I don’t want to know the entire conspiracy behind it—“

“No one wants to talk about their murdered sister, Yejin.”

“But no one really wants to find out their boyfriend—“ Yejin paused, “or rather boyfriends were lying to her.”

“We didn’t lie-“

“You didn’t tell the truth either, Jaemin. Do you see how upsetting this is?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. Yejin huffed in disbelief at the dismissive action as her blood boiled beneath her skin. “Hello?”

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me?”

Jaemin glanced at Jeno before nodding his head, “Jeno’s right there. Ask him yourself.”

“Unbelievable.” Yejin got up from his lap and grabbed her coat from behind the chair, “you never miss the opportunity to be a fucking asshole.“

“Jung brother specialty, baby.”

“Fuck you,” she spat. “I don’t know why I fucking put up with you, you’re such a fucking spoiled, egotistical brat!”

“Then leave! If I’m such a fucking asshole then get out! Nobody is fucking keeping you here! Jeno isn’t even awake to make you stay!” Jaemin yelled back, pointing to the door.

Yejin stared at the back of the chair before crying for what seemed like the hundredth time today. She opened the door and slammed it behind her, accidentally bumping into Johnny, apologizing quickly before she continued to run out of the hallway.

Johnny looked at Jaehyun and Jihyun, offering a grimace, “I told you I heard yelling.”

Jihyun looked at Jaehyun with concern, watching him sigh as he gave her the car keys, “go.”

“I’ll see you at home,” she said quickly, kissing his cheek before walking quickly in the direction Yejin ran off to. Jihyun couldn’t run as well as she could perhaps six months ago, but she thankfully managed to reach the elevators as she saw that Yejin was waiting impatiently for the doors to open. When they did, she shoved herself inside, disregarding the family that was trying to get out.

“Pregnant lady, move.” Jihyun announced, watching Yejin look up from her spot in the corner with teary eyes.

“Come here,” Jihyun gently pulled on Yejin’s arm, shushing her quietly as she sobbed in her chest. “It’s okay—“

“He’s such a fucking idiot!” Yejin cried, sniveling on Jihyun’s expensive sweater. “I get it, they all have their stupid fucking secrets, but Jaemin’s such an asshole about it it’s like he doesn’t even care--“

Yejin’s sentence is interrupted by another loud sob, causing the other people in the elevator to awkwardly look at the floor. Jihyun did her best to soothe, to calm her down before they reached the garage. Jihyun pulled her outside and sat her down on a bench, rubbing her back as her sobs were reduced to small sniffles.

“Better?” Jihyun smiled softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I guess,” Yejin took a shaky deep breath. “Not really.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Yejin shook her head, tears starting up again as she admitted what she had been thinking the whole day, “I want Jeno home.”

Yejin cried harder, causing Jihyun to hold her close and conceal her from the eyes of curious bystanders.

“I know, Angel, I know—let’s go to my place then, hm?” She prompted, “I don’t think you’ve been to my new house yet? I can show you the nursery I’m building.”

The last thing Yejin wanted to see was a happy home, but it was better than going home to an empty apartment, where Jaemin would be later on. So instead of rejecting, Yejin nodded, sniffling once more before Jihyun took her hand and led her to her car.

Jaehyun and Johnny stood outside the door. Jihyun had just ran off to find Yejin as both men tried to figure out if they wanted to step inside or not. They argued quietly as to who should come in first.

“You’re older, hyung. You’re wiser because of your years in the world,” Jaehyun whispered harshly.

“Excuse me? You’re the boss, not only that you’re his brother, Jaehyun, you go—“ Johnny began to push Jaehyun towards the door.

“His brother that he currently hates.” Jaehyun hissed.

Eventually, Johnny managed to push him inside, glaring at him as he saw Jaemin sulking in the arm chair.

“Trouble in paradise?” Johnny prompted.

“Fuck off,” Jaemin grumbled, glaring at the machines.

“Do you want to talk—“

“No.”

Jaehyun nodded, “right. I thought so.”

Johnny took a seat at Jeno’s bed as Jaehyun stood next to him, his arms crossed. “Jaemin—“

“No offense, Johnny hyung, I kind of don’t want to talk about work right now.”

“That’s too bad, kiddo, because,” Johnny smiled, “the worst part of work is that you have to do it anyway. Why? Because it’s your job, and this is not something I’m negotiating.”

Jaemin looked up at Jaehyun with questioning eyes, causing his older brother to laugh, “what? Are you talking to me now? Don’t look at me, Johnny hyung is talking to you now.”

“Did you tell Yejin about Jieun noona?”

What the fuck? Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows together, “No? I speak to your girlfriend maybe twice a year.”

“I thought so,” Jaemin mumbled.

“Why bring up Jieun now, Jaemin?” Johnny asked.

“Yejin asked about her. Someone told her and I thought Jeno and I asked you not to say anything.”

“You’re getting real bold, these days, Jaeminie, don’t you think?” Johnny pressed, patting his head and gripping his shoulder almost to warn him for speaking informally.

Jaehyun sighed heavily, his head dropping into his hands, “I didn’t say anything Jaemin. But I think I know who did.”

“It’s fine, hyung. I did tell Jeno and Jaemin that I wouldn’t say anything,” Jaehyun reassured, looking for his phone and for a particular contact. “I think I forgot to relay the message to someone else, though.”

To: Jihyunie

We have to talk later.

masterlist

#nct angst #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun mafia #jaemin scenario #jaemin mafia #jeno scenario #jeno mafia #Johnny mafia #Johnny scenario

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Longest Night (33)- Waking

A lot of people commented about how horrifying it would be to wake up in the middle of surgery. Anesthesia awareness happens to about 1 in a 1000 patients, and I was one of those lucky ducks!

It wasn’t major surgery, but I still wasn’t supposed to wake up. I was getting my wisdom teeth removed. They recommended I bring in headphones and listen to music. I was only conscience enough to hear my music. At one point a song came on that I didn’t want to listen to, so I opened my eyes and looked down to my iPod. The orthodontist stopped and said, “Oh just changing the song?”

And then I looked up, seeing two doctors there, with blood covered gloves, and a bunch of instruments sticking out of my mouth.

It’s the only thing I remember from getting that surgery. Not the recovery, not the appointment, not even the song that prompted it. It also only felt like it took 15 minutes, but apparently it was two hours. Anesthesia really messes with the perceived perception of time when you’re only semiconscious.

It’s really a horrifying experience.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

Dr. Ernest Boucher would consider himself lucky. He had a loving wife, and a patient son, who understood the importance of his father’s job and didn’t take it personally when he had to suddenly leave.

And now, after a 48 hour shift, he was returning home. Exhausted, hungry, and stressed, but home.

“I’m home!” He called in the door.

“Oh honey!” His wife called from the other room. “We just sat down for dinner! Come take a seat, I’ll make you up a plate!”

Ernest hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes. Home cooking, a hot shower, and to sleep for a few hours in his bed…that’s all he wanted.

His wife wrapped an arm around his waist and smooched his cheek. “I made Lasagna.”

“Lasagna…I love lasagna…” He said dreamily.

As he came into the kitchen, he saw his son, pouring himself a soda. “Hey Pop! You look like you got hit by a truck!” The boy laughed.

His son was 17 years old, blonde hair, athletic, looked a lot like Adrien. Several times during the surgery, Ernest imagined it was his boy on the table.

He sympathized with Gabriel Agreste, who looked like a complete mess.

“Pop? You good?”

Ernest yanked on his son’s arm and pulled him into a tight hug. “Just happy to see you, Kiddo.”

With a shrug, Ernest’s son hugged his father back.

—

After a filling dinner and a 8 hour night’s sleep, Ernest arose. His pager hadn’t gone off in the middle of the night. So surely Adrien and Marinette were either in the same place they were, or any minor problems were solved by the team.

He showered, shaved, and got dressed.

His boy was already at school, but had left him a text in the morning.

“You’re my superhero!” It read, simply.

The words brought tears to his eyes.

His wife made him breakfast, a big one with lots of protein to keep him full until he had a late lunch. She also filled up his coffee mug with a fancy kind that outdid the hospital brew.

And then, with another kiss, he was back off to the hospital.

Or at least that was the plan. He was not expecting to be swarmed outside his house by the media.

“Dr. Boucher! What kind of surgery did Adrien have?!”

“Is Marinette alright?”

“Did Chat lose his arm?”

“Did Adrien survive from the whipping!?”

“Have you talked to the families yet?!”

“Dr. Boucher!”

“Dr. Boucher, over here!”

Completely overwhelmed, his head swiveled everywhere his name was called until he was dizzy.

“Stop!” He shouted, hands out.

The crowd calmed to a murmur.

“Everyone be quiet! Just give me a moment!”

Well, if he was a little dazed before, now he was wide awake.

The media settled down, waiting to hear him.

“Bring the mics closer, I’m only going to say this once. Then I must get back to the hospital!”

Obediently, the news crews all passed microphones up to the front, where some poor intern was put in charge of holding them up like a bouquet in front of the good doctor.

Ernest clear his throat. “Alright. Due to patient confidentiality, I can’t get into specifics. But I can tell you that as of when I left last night, both Marinette and Adrien were alive and asleep. They both received care for several wounds inflicted from Salo, including the flogging. Adrien’s arm has not yet been addressed, because of other more serious surgeries first. That is all I can tell you now, thank you.”

The crowd parted as he headed to his car, but they continued to ask questions as he climbed inside.

Ernest took a sip of his coffee as he started the car. He wasn’t sure how the media found out he was in charge of the team. He didn’t worry about it, but it wasn’t expected. Some nurse who hadn’t read their email probably blurted something to someone.

Oh well. He supposed the nugget he gave was fair enough. After a month of knowing absolutely everything happening to the heroes, and then knowing nothing? It would leave people asking questions.

And with Hawkmoth battling with the auxiliary heroes on the Arc de Triomphe, there probably weren’t any more threats to worry about.

He hoped.

—

A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away—away—to an indefinite distance—it died. The nightingale’s song was then the only voice of the hour: in listening to it, I again wept. Mr. Rochester sat quiet, looking at me gently and seriously. Some time passed before he spoke; he at last said—

“Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one another.”

“I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and cannot return.”

It was a weird dream. No visuals, no feelings. Just a soft voice of a mother recanting a story. She spoke quietly, tenderly, just a hum above a whisper.

Then she felt sensations. Pins and needles of sleepiness in her toes, the ache and twinge of long set wounds.

Her knees ached, as they were unaccustomed to having her legs stretched out. But she found she lacked the strength to move.

Was she awake? Or asleep? Neither, she supposed, balancing on the edge of both. That blissful state of absolute comfort.

Slowly, Marinette back tracked in time. What did she remember?

The haunting image of Adrien bleeding out in that chair, watching him collapse in the hall, his slowly languid breaths in that room.

And then a haze. They moved, somewhere. Wetness, like rain. Running?

It was like looking through a thick cotton curtain, muffling sound and sight.

And now she was here. Wherever ‘here‘ was.

Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his grasp: for I was still incredulous.

“Do you doubt me, Jane?”

“Entirely.”

“You have no faith in me?”

“Not a whit.”

It was the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. A soft bed, cradling her as if she was fragile, and a warm blanket weighing her to the bed. A soft ambient light held back the darkness, but didn’t pierce through her lids.

Marinette tried to open her eyes, caked as they were. The light was dim, illuminating gridded ceiling titles immediately above her. It smelled faintly of chemicals, while a droning hiss carried through the air. Her neck ached, but as she tilted her head, she briefly looked around the room. No one to her left, though she did see a strange machine and a metal stand, an IV stand. A tube ran from the bag down to her arm. A door cracked open revealed a bathroom and another door on the far side of the room was closed, but silhouetted figure stood in the window.

To her right, she found the owner of the voice, her own mother, sitting in a chair by her side, hand in hers, and reading from a book. Jane Eyre, as it looked. Farther down the bed, her father sat in another chair, his hand wrapped loosely around her foot.

Behind her parents, orange light filtered through the light curtains.

A bright red blob caught her attention. Tikki laid curled up on her chest.

A moment more, allowing her brain to digest all she could see, and she realized she was in a hospital.

The how and when escaped her.

“What, me!” I ejaculated, beginning in his earnestness— and especially in his incivility—to credit his sincerity: “me who have not a friend in the world but you- if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have given me?”

“You, Jane, I must have you for my own—entirely my own. Will you be mine? Say yes, quickly.”

“Mr. Rochester, let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to read your countenance—turn!”

“There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled, scratched page. Read on: only make haste, for I suffer.”

“Marinette?” Her father interrupted.

Marinette didn’t respond verbally, not knowing if she had the strength to do so. Instead, she squeezed her hand and twitched her foot.

Warm lips pressed to her forehead, as she came to find a mask on her face. She couldn’t speak, even if she wanted to.

“Just sleep, my darling.” Sabine said softly. “You’re very tired.”

She was. That was true.

The warmth, the quiet, the softness, it was soothing.

Safe.

Sleep.

Safe.

Adrien.

She awoke with a jolt. It had only been a few minutes, so she thought, but the room was different. Brighter. Day light peered in the window, and her father was gone.

“Honey? Are you okay?” Sabine asked, seeing Marinette startle awake. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Adrien.” She said, in response.

Understanding came over Sabine’s face. “Yes darling, he’s here. He’s in ICU. He’ll be okay.”

She pulled on the mask that covered her face, immediately struggling to breathe. “I need to see him!”

Sabine just calmly replaced the mask. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere.”

Marinette grabbed her wrist. “Where is he? Where’s Chat?” She began to cry.

Sabine pressed a button nearby. “Ssh, darling. He’s alright. Just relax.”

Marinette shook her head, forcing the mask from her face. “I don’t believe you! I need to see him! Adrien!”

A female nurse hurried into the room. “Oh dear, she’s up!” The woman smiled.

“She wants to see Adrien.”

The nurse came to the bed, clasping Marinette’s hands. “Oh honey, I know you do. But you’re in no shape to get out of bed.”

“I don’t care! I need to see Adrien! Please!” Her voice was breaking, as she desperately tried to get out of the bed. She was exhausted, and everything hurt as she moved.

“I’m sorry dear, but you need to calm down.” The nurse pressed the mask back to her face and held it there, as her other hand went to the machine at her side.

“Let me go! He needs me! Please I don’t want to leave him alone!”

The nurse petted her hair gently. “Shh, just relax. Breathe. Breathe nice and deep.”

“No! No! No…no…” she felt weaker. Her vision blurred as the room tilted.

Sleep. Her brain demanded.

Sleep.

Adrien.

She jolted again. Wakefulness coming to her quite quickly. Things had changed again, though she was only out for a few minutes, right? Except, now it was dark outside, and both of her parents were missing.

“Marinette! You’re awake again!” Tikki chirped, floating in front of her.

Marinette stared, not knowing what to say. Surely there should be some tearful reunion, right? Or perhaps shame or guilt?

But her mind was in one place.

“Tikki, spots on.”

Tikki had a millisecond to gasp before being sucked into the earrings.

The suit disconnected her from all the tubes and wires. The needles in her veins were forced out, the pads on her chest were peeled off. She ripped the mask off, finding it difficult to breathe again, but not eager to go back to sleep.

All resulting in alarms blaring.

Ladybug had to act quickly to find him. She pushed up, her arms trembling with the action. Her back twinged, as her torn flesh stretched and twisted.

By time she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the nurse appeared. A male nurse this time, roughly the same age as her father, and built like a fridge.

“Whoa there, little lady!” He rushed to her. “You can’t be getting up. Do you need to use the bathroom? We can get you a bedpan.”

She swatted him away, “don’t touch me!”

“What are you trying to do, Ladybug? Let me help you before you hurt yourself.”

“I’m going to see Chat! And you’re not going to stop me!” She glared at him, daring him to try to stop her.

He studied the intensity of her glare, and sighed. “Alright. Just relax a second, alright?”

She didn’t, but stopped trying to stand.

“My name is John, I’m the night shift nurse for you.”

She looked at him blankly.

“Now,” he took her hand gently. “I will take you to Adrien, but we have to do it the hospital way, okay? You don’t want to hurt yourself more, right? Chat wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

She softened at the tone. “You’ll take me to him?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ll take you to your husband.”

Husband.

So that wedding really was official after all? It hadn’t felt real. No one treated them like husband and wife. They were only treated like garbage.

Her shoulders relaxed, fist uncurled, jaw unclenched. “What’s the hospital way?” She asked.

“I’m going to get you a wheelchair. We’ll reconnect you to the IV, because you’ve got to get your fluids up. Then we’ll stay for a little while, but when it starts hurting too much, we’ll bring you back.”

“I can’t stay with him?”

John knelt in front of her, and held her hands tightly. “Ladybug, Adrien is in critical condition. He lost a lot of blood. We gave him a blood transfusion, but the rest is up to him. He needs constant surveillance.”

“Is…is he going to be okay?”

“I think so. He hasn’t passed yet.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“You were admitted four days ago. You’ve been in and out of sleep for the last two.”

She frowned, considering this. Finally, she relented. “Spots off.”

In a flash of pink, Marinette returned, and with her, more pain. She cried out, as John squeezed her hand.

“I’m going to go get that wheelchair, alright? Stay seated, please.” And he hurried out of the room.

Marinette rested her hands on her knees. Her very knobby, scabbed over knees. She wore thick socks, which made her stick legs look even smaller. She was covered in all sorts of cuts and bruises she hadn’t seen in the dark, and her right hand, which had been branded, was wrapped with thick gauze.

She dared not look in the mirror.

“Marinette?” Tikki asked, sadly.

“I’m sorry, Tikki,” was all she could say.

“You don’t need to apologize.” The kwami nuzzled against her cheek. “I’m just glad you’re safe now. Things are going to be weird, and you might be a little irrational. But that’s okay. I still love you.”

Marinette shuttered at the affection, reaching up to hold her against her cheek. “I love you too Tikki.”

John returned shortly, pushing a chair along. “Here we are.”

At his arrival, Marinette pushed against the mattress and tried to slide to the floor. But as her feet made contact, a sharp pain bolted up her legs and she moaned in pain.

“I gotcha,” John directed her to sit, not allowing her to stand for more than a second. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“What…what’s wrong with my legs?” She asked as the pain subsided.

“You have infection in both of your feet. From running around the catacombs for several hours with no shoes on.”

She hummed in understanding.

Carefully, John eased her into the foot rests. Then he had her hold out her arm so he could reattach the IV. “This is a saline solution, just to get your fluids up. You’re still pretty dehydrated.”

“I’m thirsty.” She admitted.

“I’ll get you some water in just a second, okay?”

Marinette couldn’t watch as he inserted the needle, but did look after he started to secure the tube for the IV. “Its…bizarre.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s…so strange to have you be nice to me. Like…I know you’re a nurse, and that you’re only trying to take care of me…”

“But you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Marinette. I might boss you around a little, but I only have your best interests at heart.”

She decided to relax then, leaning back. Her back twinged with the movement. “Agh,” she hissed.

“When we get back, I’ll get you some pain killers.”

“…thank you.”

Marinette was escorted into the hall, and they almost immediately were stopped by a man in a white coat.

“John? What do you think you’re doing?” He spoke firmly, but calmly. “Miss Dupain-Cheng should not be out of bed.”

“She shouldn��t.” John agreed. “But I found that she is liable to hurt herself if she doesn’t see Mr. Agreste. She transformed.”

“Ah,” the doctor nodded, in understanding. Then he crouched so that Marinette didn’t have to crane her neck to look at him. “Hi Marinette, I’m Dr. Boucher. I’m the main physician for you and Adrien.”

She didn’t say anything, just studied him.

“I know you probably have a hard time trusting anyone right now, but I promise—“

“Stop wasting my time.” She bit, pain starting to creep into her body without the aid of painkillers. “I was promised to see Adrien.”

The doctor smirked. “Yes, of course my dear. John, I will relieve you, if you would go tell the parents where Marinette will be? I believe they are having dinner at the cafeteria right now.”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you. I’ll meet you in ICU.” He took hold of the chair and started to push her towards the elevators.

“Are you sure I can’t stay with him?” Marinette whispered.

“No, my dear. I’m very sorry. I’ll take you to see him, but I’ll warn you that he looks very scary right now. A lot of tubes and wires all over him. But I promise it’s very his best interest.”

Marinette didn’t outwardly react, but she did feel saddened.

Over the years, Ladybug had seen Chat Noir die several times. Whether it was turning into something, vanishing completely, or hitting the side of a building too hard.

But after the cure, he always bounced back to his normal pun-loving self.

However, this was different. Of course it was. No kwami, no powers, no five minute alarms blaring in her ears. All of it was permanent. She knew that in her head.

But her heart didn’t want to see his scars.

Dr. Boucher wheeled her to an elevator, and then pressed the button for the ground floor. The back wall of the elevator was a window that looked out into the courtyard. In the night, she could look across the yard to a set of large windows, showing the cafeteria, busy with people.

The elevator came to rest, and she was led into the hall.

This was a very nice hospital, with art and sculpture along the walls. As they passed various rooms, nurses and doctors alike spotted her and stared as she went.

“They’re looking at me.” She told the doctor.

“They mean no harm.” He assured. “You should know that you and Adrien are the biggest topic of conversation in Paris right now. Everyone is curious to hear how you are.”

“It’s none of their business,” She bit.

“It’s not.” He confirmed. “But…that woman made it everyone’s business. They just want a happy ending.”

Marinette gripped the armrests. “So do I.”

“Recovery won’t be easy, but you have a wonderful support network. And I have several therapists for you both to utilize. That should make it easier for you.”

Marinette didn’t respond, only digested the information given.

Before too long, they arrived at a room in ICU, being guarded with a police officer. He frowned when he saw Marinette.

“I’d like to see Adrien.” She said sternly.

The man just looked at the doctor. “Far be it from me to stop this…but she should be up?”

“It’s only for a visit. It’s alright.”

The man nodded, and allowed them in.

Marinette’s eyes immediately fell on the figure in the bed. He was barely visible under all the tubes and wires, and bandages. He was leaning to his left, propped up with pillows, so he wasn’t resting flat on his back. She could see his bruised eyes, as his face had a heavy mask strapped to it. Some stray locks of hair stuck out from the strap that led over the top of his head. His left hand had a tube taped to it and a oximeter clamped on his finger. A blanket was pulled up to his sternum, making his chest visible, but it was covered in pads and wires, as well as the tubes that ran into his mask. Under all that was a thick gauze right in the middle of his breast bone, taped on all sides. His right arm, which had been dislocated, was in a sling, resting against his stomach. His hand, wrapped in gauze, rested on top of a Ladybug doll, the one she had made herself. Plagg rested in the crook of his wrist.

“Adrien?”

“He’s sedated right now, which is for the best. He’s intubated so he can breathe better. It would be painful if he was awake.”

“Bring me closer.”

“Please don’t move him.”

Marinette reached out and rested her hand on his wrist, careful not to accidentally nudge his arm. Her thumb rubbed over the frigid skin, trying to give him some heat.

Plagg awoke at the movement, flicking his eyes up. Many hands had come and gone in the few hours he and Gabriel had finally been allowed to see Adrien. Ever watchful, he took note of the nurses, and what they were doing, what they were checking, applying.

But seeing Marinette had confused him for a moment, because he hadn’t recognized her immediately.

But then he saw Tikki on her lap.

“Pigtails?”

“Hi Plagg,” though there wasn’t much warmth in the greeting. She did scratch him between the ears with her finger. He only looked at her sadly.

“He’s cold.” She told the doctor.

“I can get him another blanket.” He stated as he moved from behind her. “Stay put.”

She studied Adrien’s eyes, closed to slumber, but twitching slightly. The ECG graphed his steady heart beat, and the ventilator pumped air at a calm rate. Yes, he looked scary right now, but admittedly, he looked better than he had in the hell hole. He looked peaceful, comfortable, and not at all like he was fighting for his life, though he very obviously still was.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to that sliver of skin. “I’m right here, Kitty. I want to stay with you, but I’m not allowed to.” She wiped a gentle tear from her eye. “But I think we’ll be together soon. Once you’re healed enough. So get better soon, please.”

Tikki floated from Marinette’s lap and hovered over him. “Plagg? Where’s the worst injury?”

“…I don’t know.” Said the kwami. “It’s…it’s all pretty bad.”

“Probably his back.” Provided Marinette. “It was right…right down to the bone.”

Tikki nodded and flew over to his other side. Very gently, she nuzzled into his spine.

Adrien’s eyes twitched more, before they settled.

“It probably didn’t do much,” Tikki stated. “But it will help.”

“Would it help if you stayed with him?”

“He’d have to wear the earrings to get any benefits from me.” She looked meaningfully to his ears, which were bright red in most spots, while the top of his left ear was gone, stitches in place. “I don’t thing we should attempt that now.”

Marinette moaned, feeling helpless.

But Plagg wouldn’t stand it. “Hey, I’ve got some healing properties too, you know!” He floated into her face and nuzzled against her cheek, purring. The sound reverberated into her skin, her sinuses, her skull, her spine…she felt a little better. “I just have to keep purring. So tell someone to make sure I’m properly fed with cheese.”

“Oh Plagg…I will. I absolutely will.” Her voice filled with emotion.

“Oh kid…don’t cry. I’m just trying to keep things light.”

Doctor Boucher had returned to the room, but stayed in the doorway, watching with curiosity but privacy. When he noticed Marinette’s tears, he approached her. “How is your pain?”

“I’m not ready to leave yet.” She answered by deflecting.

“Okay. Just let me know.” He unfurled the blanket he’d fetched, and carefully started to drape it over Adrien’s legs. “His hands are cold.” She argued.

“That’s normal for someone with blood loss. Though he’s had a transfusion and should be alright now, he’s not moving, so his circulation isn’t very good.”

“But he’s cold. Can’t you cover him?”

“Not just yet. You can hold his hand though. Just watch the bandages.”

Marinette said nothing, just held his fingers a little tighter.

She wanted to climb up on the bed with him, snuggle up under his chin, and press delicate kisses to his cheek. But hearing that it would be bad for him stopped her from just ignoring everyone and embracing him.

This wasn’t fair.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?”

Dr. Boucher sighed. “We’ll keep him sedated a week, at least. Maybe more. We will bring him out of sedation for about an hour a day, but the goal is to keep his anxiety reduced, especially while he’s on the ventilator.”

“So I won’t be allowed to see him.” Marinette finished.

“Unfortunately, no. His father and Plagg will be here for him, though.”

It was then that Marinette realized that Adrien wasn’t wearing his Miraculous. “Plagg, where’s the ring?”

“Gabriel has it.”

“Shouldn’t Adrien be wearing it?”

“You’ll have to forgive me, Marinette.” Said the doctor. “I’m the one that suggested he not give it back to him just yet. I worried that Adrien might try to transform at the first chance he was given. And given that you did, my theory is correct.”

Marinette sighed, hating that she had been caught.

“You’re not in trouble, and we don’t blame you for doing it.” The doctor clarified. “We just can’t have either of you doing that. It won’t help.”

“I understand.” She rubbed her thumb over Adrien’s knuckles. “Thank you for letting me see him. I’ve been worried.”

“Of course. What’s your pain level?”

“Just a little longer, please.”

“Alright.”

It was then that nurse John came, accompanied by her parents, and a disheveled homeless man.

“Marinette! You shouldn’t be out of bed!” Her mother scolded.

“She knows.” Said Dr. Boucher. “But this is necessary to keep her calm. I’m watching her.”

The nurse brought over a styrofoam cup with a bendy straw. “Here you are, Marinette.”

“Thank you.” She said, taking it skeptically.

Everyone watched as she popped the lid, shook the ice around, and smelled it. Then she sipped a little bit through the straw. At the relaxed look on her face, it was obvious she found the water to be clean. She popped the lid back on and sucked more down. “This is really good.”

“It’s just water,” said Sabine, eyes watering.

“It tastes good.”

The disheveled homeless man spoke. “I’m so glad to see you awake, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I hadn’t get to check in on you since you were loaded into the ambulance.”

She hunched her shoulders. “Who are you?”

He chuckled weakly, rubbing a hand over his short beard. “I’ll admit I look pretty bad. But I didn’t realize I was unrecognizable.”

“It’s the beard, Gabriel.” Said Sabine. “It suits you though.”

“Gabriel? Gabriel Agreste?”

“Who else would be here with Adrien?”

She frowned. “Don’t know. Anyone else. Nathalie? The Gorilla? Never like you supported him before.”

“Marinette…” Sabine chastised, horrified at her behavior.

But the Marinette from the torture chamber was not known for kindness or tact. She didn’t flinch at her mother’s rebuke.

“I suppose I deserve that.” Gabriel said sadly. “Plagg has informed me that I…I may be a sociopath. This was something I wasn’t aware of before. I’m trying to improve my behavior. I’m sorry if you felt like I neglected Adrien. Things are going to be different now.”

Marinette cast her eyes over to Adrien, to her husband. “A shame this had to happen for you to see that.”

“Marinette!” Sabine exasperated.

Marinette winced, as a headache started to grow, and her wounds ached.

“I think it’s time we got you back.” Said Dr. Boucher. “We’ll get you some dinner too, hm?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Do you think you could choke down some soup? You really need to eat something.”

“I said I’m not hungry!” She barked, triggering a coughing fit. The doctor simply rubbed her back as she rode it out. After it subsided, she sobbed. “I don’t want to leave him!”

The doctor crouched at her side. “Marinette, I promise you, Adrien’s not leaving this hospital without you. He’s safe. You’re safe. It’ll only be for a little while, and then we’ll put you in the same room together. Okay?”

She glared at him.

“But you’re making yourself worse by staying here like this. You’re so brave, and so smart…but let me take care of you for a little while, okay?”

A few more tears leaked out. “It hurts.”

“Then let’s get you back upstairs, and we’ll give you pain killers, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thats a good girl!” He smiled.

#longest night #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #fanfiction #ml #adrienette #adrinette #ladynoir

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 33 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki looked around the throne room, sighing as he tried to get some form of energy to deal with the last of the evening. His father had him, Arden and Helbindi all but exhausted from dealing with different matters that he wished to organise. It was late and he was annoyed to have missed having dinner with Ella.

Since the day she asked him why he was not as open with her, he tried to be more so. It was not perfect and he often was second-guessing himself, wondering if she would be like Angrboða and use his most private thoughts as ammunition to throw back at him as he had been forced to endure after he did what was best for the realm and severed the relationship with Angrboda, the one he thought loved him only to see that his love had not been as reciprocated as he had thought it was. But he tried. She could see it was hard for him and encouraged him without ever trying to force him and he could see it in how she spoke. He appreciated her efforts to understand him when he did not even understand himself.

He could not deny that having her in his rooms most night was pleasant also. She had informed him that his rooms would now be soundproofed in a manner that meant that should she lose her cognitive ability again, none would hear it. He informed her that it did not bother him, yet noted it clearly bothered her, to the extent he could see her fight her own wishes to make noise during any of their couplings. He had thoroughly enjoyed hearing her call out his name in ecstasy, but he knew that she would not do so willingly again. He wondered if it was an expected norm on Asgard to remain silent or a personal choice to her as she seemed to not be the least bit shameful in admitting to certain things pertaining to the act and even her own actions regarding it, be it in research or self-pleasure. All he could think about was going to his rooms to spend time speaking with her. They were preparing to go to Vanaheim in the near future and she was providing him with the majority of the information that would better their chances of a good deal with the Vanir as well as the details that were not overly public with regards certain beings who were better to avoid.

Laufey continued into the night. He had been very worn of late, so with some energy from Norn’s knows where, he decided to use said energy to deal with different matters, leading to him, his brother and Arden having to endure it into the night.

“What news from the West, has there been any more unrest?” Laufey asked.

“None, Sire. Býleistr has made mention that there has been nothing since. Those who were acting out have ceased with such talk, he is satisfied that there will be little to no such talk again.”

“Good,” Laufey nodded.

“He also reports that his first mate has come into heat once more and that he hopes that it will be a successful one,” Arden added.

“That he should be so fortunate,” Laufey agreed. “Though I do not wish misfortune on my son and his second mate, I do not think a child as a result of that mating right now would be a good thing, all things considered.”

Loki did not mean to, but he nodded at his father’s statement, agreeing with him. He did not want to think about it but he did. He was glad Angrboða and Býleistr had not been successful on their first attempt. He knew it would happen with time but that would only be salt in a wound for him. With time to allow himself heal, he would not be so bothered by their attempts to procreate. With the realm becoming more fruitful once more, it was already noted that there was an increase in heats and subsequent pregnancies. It was usually three heats recorded in a single year for the realm with, if lucky, one pregnancy since the Casket returned, there were already three females were pregnant. It would cause a population growth once more, but Jotunheim was a realm that needed more young, unlike so many realms.

“Well, if that is everything…” Helbindi tried to move along the evening.

“Not so fast, Loki, what have you prepared for Vanaheim?” Laufey asked.

Loki groaned internally, Helbindi sighed loudly and Arden showed his dismay in his eyes at Laufey’s question. They would not see their beds for a significant time yet to come that night, and they knew it.

When Loki did make his way to his rooms, it was closing in on midnight. He wondered if Ella would be there but it was doubtful. She would never enter his rooms without him being there, she was too honest and respectful of him to go about his personal space without his being there. When he got to his rooms, he was unsurprised but disappointed to see them void of any sign of life since his leaving them that morning. He readied for bed before getting in, looking to where Ella usually slept for a moment before looking to the ceiling, hoping for sleep to come.

Sleep did not come. Three hours later, he was still staring to the ceiling above him with no sign of sleep coming to him. He wanted not to be frustrated as that only fed his lack of sleep, but all he could do was be frustrated, resulting in him not sleeping. He wondered if Ella was resting well in her rooms, if she felt odd being by herself. He pondered for a time before his annoyance bothered him enough to rise from his bed and leave his rooms.

Looking at her bedroom door caused him to pause and consider his actions. Part of him saw no issue with what he was doing, he was simply checking something, the other part knew it was entirely wrong to bother someone in their bed at almost three in the morning, yet he opened the door all the same and entered her front rooms. When he got to the bedchambers, he became more apprehensive but before he could do anything, the bedroom door unlocked by seidr and Ella was in front of him. “Loki?” Her voice was heavy from sleep. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine, sorry I woke you.”

“Why are you here?” She looked at him for a moment, rubbing her eyes as she realised there was no reason to be worried. When her seidr had informed her someone had broken the magic seel she had placed on her rooms before going to sleep, she had been worried, seeing it was only a somewhat meek Loki, she saw that there was no reason to fret, she stretched slightly. “What time is it?”

“Three, I think.”

“Why are you up?” He looked at his feet. “You have not slept, have you?”

“No.”

“Did Laufey keep you that long?” She opened the door more so he could enter.

Loki did so. “No, he let us leave a few hours ago.”

“Yet you are still awake.”

“Yet I am still awake,” Loki repeated.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“And do you think talking to me will find the reason?”

“I think I am talking to you because of the reason.”

Ella looked at him confused. “You will need to expand on that if I am to make sense of it.”

“You were not in my room.”

“No, why would I go there without you being there?”

“It felt wrong.”

Ella realised then what the issue was and smiled. “Have you gotten used to company in bed?”

Loki felt somewhat embarrassed. “I fear I may have.”

Ella, knowing this was a significant admission to him, looked him in the eye as she spoke. “It is far too late for any form of intimacy. I am tired and I want to go back to sleep.”

“I know.”

With his confirmation, she took his hand and used her seidr to transport them to his room. Loki looked around in confusion before looking at her. “What, are you really surprised by me any more?” She walked over to the bed and got in at the side she usually did, using her seidr to warm it enough to her liking as she disliked the coldness of bed when she first got into it.

With the sense of something not being right gone, Loki got in his side, looking at Ella’s back for a moment before getting comfortable and feeling himself drift off to sleep contently.

#loki #others #submission #imagine #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 33 #wolfpawn

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