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scoundrels-in-love · 6 months

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things you said at the kitchen table - (i was gonna say vashmeryl but you already did one of those for disconnect :3) soooooo stryfewood

This only took a genuine month to write, oops.

---

Meryl does not often drink to the point of hangovers and for good reason. She prides herself in knowing her limits and abiding by them. But somewhere after leaving her work party with Milly timely because they had decided they deserved to celebrate their promotion proper instead of playing polite with work seniors, her sensibilities (and a shoe) seems to have gotten lost while drinking and dancing.

She remembers having fun, laughing and feeling light, and honestly, not much else. Certainly not how she must've stumbled home and face planted onto her bed without changing her clothes. And it all feels very unfair trade for the absolute misery she's experiencing right now.

When she makes her way to the kitchen for the second time this morning to have more water and attempt to stomach some food, Meryl feels a touch more human after a shower and fresh change of clothes, but there is still a wild herd of buffalos stampeding around the inside of her skull.

She does not see improvement in that condition in her future, considering just who is leaning against the kitchen counter, smirk spread on his handsome face.

Of course it would be just her luck that Wolfwood, her best friend's slash roommate's other best friend (more than that, she suspects, though they've not introduced any label to her, but neither are very good at being discreet about anything), has not left yet.

She thought he might have, since Vash is gone for the weekend without much explanation as to why (she's gotten used to his odd ways, even if she's not given up on bugging him for some truth), but then again Wolfwood treats this like his rent-free place. To the point she's told him he might as well move in with Vash and not waste money on his own apartment.

(Doesn't matter that she would probably need to look for a new place herself then, because she isn't sure she'd handle looking more often at Vash casually draped over Wolfwood's lap as the other man combs fingers through the blonde hair in a way she's quietly wanted to since their second uni year, or increase in the other sweet, casual intimacy acts on the daily.)

She mumbles a greeting to Wolfwood and slumps into her chair and then over the table, resting her head on her arms.

"Rough morning?" Wolfwood asks and she can hear him move around the kitchen, the soft clink of glass. What she doesn't expect is for it to be placed next to her on the table, his warm fingers brushing against her hand. She shifts to peer at him over her arm without lifting her head and his expression promises nothing good.

Still, she thanks him and straightens up to drink.

Wolfwood keeps watching her in a way that makes her incredibly self-conscious. He always does, when he puts his full attention on her, his dark eyes making her want to squirm and smooth down her hair. But right now, it's more and it's worse. (She hadn't known that was possible.)

Meryl feels a drop of water escape the corner of her mouth as she drinks and roll down her chin and neck and she could swear Wolfwood follows its path with his gaze, lingering where the droplet meets its end at the collar of her t-shirt and tracing the path back up to her lips.

Suddenly she really wishes Vash was here - though his cheeriness and volume would make her headache worse, at least he would distract Wolfwood, turn this into something more familiar. And the hangover soup he makes is divine.

It's not that she and Wolfwood can't hang out or don't get along - they do. In their own way that would make most people assume they can barely tolerate each other, sure, but what do they care about how others perceive their bickering. When she needs an honest, if biting opinion on her newest article or wants to tear the newest popular, but lackluster and plothole riddled series to shreds with someone who gets it , there is no one better to go to than Wolfwood.

(Vash loves to sit down and just listen to them go at it, chin in his hands and warm smile on his face that she can't look at too much directly or it sends butterflies dancing in her chest like sun spots.)

But all of that is one thing and the way he's looking at her as if he's gauging the best moment to pounce is something completely different. What's worse, he looks so good in the early morning - black turtleneck accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, long fingers wrapped around a huge coffee mug almost as if on display, hair mussed just enough to make her want to mess it up a touch more and run her palm down his stubbled cheek.

Meryl drops her gaze first, gets a refill of water. If he makes a joke about her being thirsty again, she will cuss him out for real this time.

"So, what got our Miss Proper utterly wasted last night, hm?" Wolfwood doesn't seem satisfied to just let the silence rule across the kitchen and Meryl groans in mortification. She'd really hoped she hadn't run into him last night. God only knows what nonsense (or truths) she could babble in such a state.

"Got carried away celebrating a promotion with Milly," she admits, resting her head against the wall, skirting her gaze over him and toward the window, squinting at the light.

"Oh, how come I hear about that only now? Thought we were friends, gatinha," she makes a disgruntled noise at the pet name, out of principle not actual upset, "'N Vash usually can't wait to brag about yer achievements, can't believe he didn't call me to yell all about it."

Meryl hopes the heat in her face is not as vivid as it feels, she hadn't known Vash spoke about her like that when she isn't around. It feels more special somehow, than just the way he hypes her up when next to her, though she dearly loves that, too.

"We learned last night ourselves," Meryl explains. The news had mixed well with the champagne, sweet bubbles filling her head and making reason pop like one, too.

Wolfwood hums softly as he considers it, turning away from her to start washing his mug. It's a relief, not to have his eyes on her anymore, but part of her, a part that is surely still drunk, misses his gaze, the intensity and focus that he's been giving her this morning. The sort she could feel even when she wasn't looking at him at all.

Meryl is looking now, though. Letting herself appreciate the way the turtleneck hugs his form, how his shoulder blades move beneath the fabric as he reaches for the dish towel and dutifully, carefully dries his mug. He's always been the tidiest of them all. Her gaze tracks upward, to the back of his neck and she suddenly thinks - if she was taller, she could peel it back, revealing the beautiful line of his throat and press a kiss there, right beneath his ear. If she sat on the counter, she'd be just the right height -

The thought is not unfamiliar , but it startles her all the same and as she pushes it away, it rolls away with a sound like a cat toy filled with something to make a noise at the slightest shift.

"Suppose we oughta celebrate then, when Vash comes back," Wolfwood interrupts her attempts to ignore the rattling ball of bad ideas. She'd seen him turn back around, but somehow not registered it. Meryl hopes she didn't startle too visibly.

"That'd be nice," she agrees with a smile. Vash has a habit of throwing celebrations for the silliest reasons, like today is national pasta day or the day has gotten a specific length before the sun sets, so casual, silly get togethers aren't strangers to this apartment. And she really doesn't think she wants anything more, either. Even if they just treat her to pizza and her pick of a movie, she'd love it.

"No getting trêbada, tho, wouldn't want a repeat of last night."

There is something in his tone, something knowing and sly, that makes Meryl straighten up and tense, while he's still the perfect picture of relaxed swagger, relaxing against the counter and grinning at her.

"What do you mean?" Meryl's voice sounds dry and cracked, a pitch higher than she would have liked, and her heart is beating the drum in her temples at the tempo contest.

"Ya don't remember at all, do ya?" Wolfwood drawls and pushes himself off the edge counter. She sits with her hands clutched in her lap, feeling drawn like a bowstring, as he approaches her, stops so very close that their knees touch and when he leans down, she can distinguish his pupils from the deep, rich brown surrounding them.

She watches like spellbound when he hooks one of his long fingers behind the edge of his turtleneck's collar and peels it back, turning his head just so she can have a good look at the smudged lipstick mark on his throat. The same shade she'd scrubbed from her face earlier this morning, half surprised it had lasted until then, half lamenting it had gotten so smudged all the same. Perhaps it was understandable, considering what she'd gotten up to, Meryl thinks numbly.

"Kept that one for a good luck charm today," Wolfwood says, in a low voice that makes all of this somehow even more something she can't define in her current state. His word choice doesn't help - that one, as if she'd kissed him all over - and she can't tell if it's an image created by him or a stray memory, but she can picture doing just that, straddling his lap on the couch and pressing her mouth all over his face, with loud mwah noises to accentuate each sloppy kiss.

"If ya want to shower me in affection," Wolfwood continues, either oblivious or sharply aware of her internal spiral, and then his index finger tips her chin up just so, "prefer ya did it sober next time so I can reciprocate."

Her heart might jump through her mouth and into his face, for him to do with it as he pleases. Surely, even that would be less embarrassing. Surely, even that wouldn't be as impossible as the picture of possibilities that Wolfwood's just created.

"'N I think Blondie would like to join in on the fun, too." His thumb brushes a whisper of a touch across her bottom lip, a burning tingle left in its wake, and then he draws back to his full height, leaving her gaping up at him.

Just like that, he walks away, as if nothing has happened, as if her world didn’t just get shaken like a snowglobe.

At least that's what she thinks, until Wolfwood trips over the threshold and curses loudly. She can hear him stifling more choice words as he slightly limps down the corridor and the beautiful absurdity of it all makes Meryl burst into giggles, burying her face in her hands.

Maybe she'll get to kiss his ego better, later. God knows he doesn't need it, but she might anyway.

---

Wolfwood last night: exhibit a, exhibit b.

#trigun #trigun stampede #stryfewood #merylwood #mashwood #rainy writes stuff #my fic

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softpine · 1 year

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Would it be too spoilery to ask if you can reveal a plot or two that would have gone differently if you weren't worried about people's reactions? I've been so curious ever since you said your characters are meant to be way worse people

oh sure!! it's not always that i'm worried about people's reactions, sometimes it's just because i dropped the ball or had other stuff going on. i just don't want anyone thinking they made me feel this way!!

the biggest one is that caroline and beth were supposed to get a divorce 🥴 back when they were fighting a lot over asa's worsening condition because caroline was adamant that asa was seeing ghosts while beth thought he was having a mental health crisis. but when asa went into another coma, they ended up reconnecting and slowly rebuilding their relationship (mostly because caroline stopped pressing the ghost issue). it felt natural to me and i think it worked out fine, but i wish i had gone with my gut.

my original plan was for them to drift even further apart when asa went into his coma. caroline would've gotten REALLY desperate, like séance / psychic medium kinda desperate, and beth would've gone the opposite direction and start contacting every doctor she can find. finn would've watched them fight and felt guilty for "destroying" asa's family, who seemed pretty damn perfect in finn's eyes. finn would wake asa up as normal, but the damage was already done, so caroline and beth would continue fighting. finn would beg asa to stop messing with ghosts/time travel and focus on his family (of course it should never be a child's responsibility to save their parents marriage, but finn spent his entire life placating his family and feeling guilty for their actions, so naturally he feels this way). asa is stubborn and doesn't listen (like usual). so that actually drives a wedge between asa and finn too. at the same time, danny and mikaela were not on the best terms because danny lied about going on tour. so everyyyybody was fighting 😭

in the heat of the moment, caroline would've suggested they get divorced, expecting beth to disagree and keep trying, but beth went completely silent instead, and it was an "oh shit this is really happening huh" moment for both of them. they would separate for a while, things still wouldn't get better, so they start talking to divorce lawyers. finally, asa steps in and does some light time traveling (lol) and revisits a bunch of his parents' best moments together so he can go back to the present time and drop hints, like "hey mom who taught you how to swim?" "did you guys have a favorite coffee shop?" "is it true you worked at the diner before i was born?" etc. just little comments that make beth and caroline remember the good times without being too obvious. and it kinda works?? caroline is waiting with her lawyer one day when beth shows up in a fancy dress and says "get up, we're going on a date". everyone is like ??? but beth explains that although they've known each other their whole lives, they never really got to just date each other, because asa arrived so soon after they got together. so they go out to dinner but they pretend it's a blind date. and they get really drunk and do karaoke to 'love is a battlefield' because duh. the next morning, they both call their lawyers and say oops never mind about the divorce thing :') and they stay separated / casually dating for quite a while, still building up their relationship. it would've had a happy ending, but it would take much more work to get there!

overall i just thought this story line would be too bleak and frustrating rather than being "fun" drama, but idk... i wish i went for it anyway. it would've been fun to deal with adult drama rather than teen angst for a change. i still have a bunch of leftover dialogue if you're curious!!

later, after they've been fighting for a while:

this was the other option that would've had basically the same function as the scene above:

i repurposed this sex planner discussion here lol:

#sorry this is so long #all the other things i've changed have been pretty small but this is the biggest one #asks #anonymous #nonsims #brandi answers

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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AO3 First Lines Tag Game

I was tagged by @strangersteddierthings appreciate the tag!! :D I never get tag in these things. I’m so excited!!!

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published ao3 stories (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics)

I’ll Be Your Knight - [Ao3] -Steddie

Eddie always had trouble sleeping even before the whole shit with the evil wizard and almost getting eaten alive. But it was worse now. Now that he had nightmares to go with the anxiety and insomnia. Which was why he was awake at three fucking o'clock in the morning. He stared up at the ceiling wishing for sleep or oblivion... when he heard it.

The Promise - [Ao3] - Steddie

Eddie wandered around Steve's bedroom as Steve went to answer the phone. He wasn't surprised to see that the room held little personality. Not because Steve was a blank slate by any means. No, it was more that judging from what Eddie knew about Steve's parents and the way they forced conformity on him.

Thirteen - [Ao3] - Steddie

Steve looked up at the three of them from his couch. Nancy to the right, Robin to the left and Eddie standing in front of him, all looking worried.

Love’s Labor - [Ao3] - Dreamling

Hob tried to live as though he was going about his life as normal. Tried to act as he had for hundreds of years. Tried to pretend his best friend wasn't in actual Hell.

Target - [Ao3] - Steddie

"Have you ever loved someone so much that they light up the room?" Steve asked. "That when they aren't there it's like a hole in your chest? That your place in their lives is the most important thing in the world?"

Fractionalization - [Ao3] -Johnlock

Sherlock awoke first, not really needing the same amount of sleep that John seemed to require to stay upright. He rolled over and looked at John. It was such a strange thing. Of all the outcomes of watching the man he loved be flirted with so aggressively, the last thing he would have expected is waking up next to him the following morning. But here he was.

And Gives You Endless Support - [Ao3] - Sebastian/Rory

Sebastian twittered nervously at the door to the theater. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was going to star in his first production where he wasn't the understudy. The role of Jules was all his. Now if he only had courage to walk through that door and actually take it.

Green-Eye Monster [AO3]- Pre-Dreamling

Hob waved goodbye to his friends. They waved back, drunkenly cheering as the staggered down the street.

Friends in Low Places [AO3] - Pre-Dreamling

Johanna looked around the pub. It was certainly not as upscale as she thought Morpheus would want to frequent, but it had its charm, she had to admit. She really needed Morpheus's help and this was her last ditch effort to find him.

These Hallowed Halls [AO3]- Dreamling

The auditorium was packed as always. Professor Robert Gadling stood behind a wooden podium with a large white screen behind him.

Plus one! Because I thought this one was ten but it turned out to be eleven. Oops!

Beauty and the Beast [AO3]- Ineffable Husbands

Crowley stood on the balcony of the stately house. It must have been beautiful in its prime, but had long since fallen into disrepair. The only thing that was kept in peak condition was the greenhouse that held the most beautiful white roses.

So...yeah, can you tell I have ADHD? Hopping from fandom to fandom like a rabbit on crack. I do have like ten other Stranger Things fics that I need to get to my beta so I can put them up on AO3. But at least this gives you a good smattering of my work.

I tag... @oldpinghai This aught to be fun. ;)

#My writing #tag game #steddie #Ineffable Husbands #dreamling #johnlock

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mistysharks · 1 year

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This was meant to be a continuation of my Cis!swap Steddie thoughts but I think it's just becoming a fic? Oops

(Ooh) honey honey part 1 They meet properly for the first time through the kids, because of course they do. Hellfire runs late, a rain storm rolls in, and Dustin knows he can call in a favor. Knows that Stevies big sister instincts will kick in the moment he mentions words like "weather hazard", "unsafe road conditions" and "hydroplaning" (though he'd had to explain that last one)

And the moment Eddie hears exactly who's coming to pick them up? yeah she suddenly needs to get home rather urgently- the old van can only manage puddles so deep, you know?

And if maybe she catches a few extra glimpses of Stevies narrow frame shuttling the kids into the Beemer before she turns the ignition, well, she's only human, right?

Of course, that's when old shadowfaxe (the name ironic, of course) decides that she's not having it, actually. The engine huffs, coughs, and wirrs before falling silent. Okay. That's ok, the old girl was always a little temperamental. A good kick to the dashboard, a few choice words, and usually she's right as rain.

Well. The rain might very well be the problem, because the second try levers no better result. The third even worse.

Eddie manages some very choice words about just what the old piece of junk might do better at than being a van, such as a trash can, or small tin of sardines. That's, of course, when the knock on the window comes, scaring her half to death. The shape outside the window is blurry from the rain, but unmistakable, horrifyingly, Stevie Harrington shaped.

Regaining her composure, Eddie rolls down her window, wincing at the high-pitched squeal of the crank. And yeah, its her all right. Grey jacket with neon pink details zipped up over rain-speckled leggings, hood pulled up to cover her hair (only an artful wave has been pulled forward to frame her face, of course. it is now rapidly losing its shape in the pouring rain), golden eyes a little squinting under long lashes of waterproof mascara. She's... Fuck. She looks great.

"Hey, you good?" the Stevie-shaped apparition says, and Eddie nods without thinking, even though she clearly isn't. "Sorry, shado- uh, my van is just being dramatic" she manages, tapping the dashboard, angles for fondly but ends up kind of violent (ow, her hand). "I'm sure she just needs a minute." She adds, with a tense smile, as Stevie leans forward, one hand on the roof of the car like she's cool or something (she is. She is very cool. fuck) Turning the ignition again, she hopes beyond hope that maybe, maybe this is not as bad as it seems. Sends a quick prayer to satan or whatever. It's not like god's been listening, so why the fuck not.

Please please please please she whispers under her breath, incredibly aware of Stevies eyes on her. Like her blasphemy might have been heard, and immediately punished, the van doesn't even bother this time. Just sputters weakly, once, twice, before falling deadly, eerily silent. Fantastic. "Battery might be dead?" Stevie suggests, her voice still even, calm, like she talks to the school freak about car trouble in the middle of a rainstorm on the regular. Unfortunately, she might be right. Did Eddie turn the lights off before she left the car this morning? Fuck, she's not sure. Still not looking up, she bangs her head lightly against the steering wheel with a big sigh, because she's nothing if not dramatic.

Outside the car, Stevie is still leaning in, still looking mildly curious, such a far cry from the Queenly sneer she used to wear, and Eddie... Well, Eddies hair is a mess (thank you humidity), her clothes are half-soaked because its June, and aesthetic be damned, far too hot for her leather jacket. And her makeup? yeah, it sure as hell ain't waterproof. That shit's expensive! She probably looks like a drenched racoon. Or maybe one of those funky red panda things, considering the slow creep of redness across her face.

"So..." Stevie taps the roof of the van, and even the water dripping from her nose looks like an artistic choice "Need a lift?"

#cis!swap #Steddie #Mistywrites #this is... something #a mood ?#perhaps #look sometimes being into women means feeling very inferior but like in a that's hot kind a way #LOOK I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT CARS IM SORRY

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star-going-supernova · 2 years

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Hello Star! I am a fan of your fnaf SB content, my favorito si far is the Safest Place Freddy going ballistic when his cub is in danger and killing Vanny for hurting him? Its just *cheff kiss* Ngl I read your fic at leats two times a day.

But hear me out, how about Freddy discovering a Baby Gregory inside his chest thingy and swearing to protect the small cub with his life. Just a thought..

Thank you for your attention and stay safe!!

Hello! Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying my stories! The Safest Place is one of my favorites as well because nothing hits the spot quite like an overprotective father figure, lol. Freddy deserved the chance to go all Terminator on Vanny.

Anyway, baby!Gregory sounds adorable and I couldn’t help myself...

(Oops, made it sad. Warning for unnamed character death.)

Out of the Storm

There had been a storm. The pizzaplex was closed for the duration of it, lasting several days as the streets outside flooded, the temperature dropped, and the wind raged. The building was put into lockdown, empty of employees and guests alike. Power was cut for safety, and the animatronics were all shut down with only their background heaters running to keep their joints from freezing up.

In the middle of the third night, Freddy’s system detected motion. An outside force opened his stomach hatch. Though this was not considered an emergency, the oddity of it brought him out of his offline mode. It took a minute for his systems to truly come back online, his eyes slowly lighting up and shuttering as they adjusted to the pitch black of the room he and his friends were being stored in.

A faint green glow reflected off the floor, and though his processor was only functioning at half-capacity as it gradually warmed up, he turned his head to examine it. After a moment, Freddy identified it as a glow stick, but not the kind the children played with. This one was larger, and his memory files informed him this kind was stocked in the emergency kits located in the basement, for use during a blackout.

Something moved in the light.

Freddy looked up slightly, his eyes landing on the huddled shape of a human woman. She stared back at him from the floor, seeming to be on the verge of sleep.

Diverting power to his scanners, it only took another seventy-four seconds before Freddy was able to scan the woman for injuries. She did not look well, and with the sounds of the howling storm reaching even this room, tucked away at the center of the building, something must be wrong for her to have ventured out in those conditions.

The results flashed across his vision. The woman was suffering from an illness in her lungs, and furthermore, was in the late stages of hypothermia. Though he could not check the temperature outside, this room was only forty-three degrees Fahrenheit, and her body temperature was well below the accepted range. Worse, she was soaked through.

This woman was beyond his help. Likely, she had been for some time.

With stuttered, jerky movements, Freddy forced himself to cross the room and clumsily kneel beside her. She watched blankly, as though she was not quite seeing him. Her pulse was slowing.

His voice box was still offline. He could not provide her comfort except to reach out. She did not recoil from his cold outer shell, but Freddy was not sure she could feel him at all. A ragged, painful-sounding cough shook her shoulders.

With his heater focused inwards, to better keep his circuits and joints and wires at peak condition, he could not even offer her warmth. Had he been running longer than a few minutes, his core heat would have seeped into his casing. He wished he could apologize.

She moved slightly, leaning into his touch as her body began to shut down. With what appeared to be the last of her strength, she raised her hand and pressed her palm to his torso. His stomach hatch. She must have been the one to open it. But why?

Slurring badly, she whispered, “Y’r w’rm. Keep… him w’rm.” Her eyes fluttered closed and did not open again.

Freddy laid her down the rest of the way only when his scanners informed him that her heart had not beat in a full minute. It took a moment for his sluggish thoughts to understand what she had said.

You’re warm. Keep him warm.

The plates of his chest folded outward, and he cautiously reached inside. Something soft and small was curled up in the center of him.

No. Someone. He could detect quiet breathing.

It took some careful effort to remove the bundle in his chest, hindered by his usual lack of sight and an unusual lack of precision, caused by his body’s slow march toward full online status. The green glow stick was nearing the end of its usability, but with his night vision, he did not need it to see the sleeping baby in his hands.

The boy, as his scanner informed him, was perhaps colder than recommended, but not dangerously so. He was swaddled in two blankets, and Freddy only understood how the child could have escaped becoming soaked through like his, presumably, mother when he looked down and found the torn remains of a plastic poncho. His scanner further informed him that the child was healthy and was likely only around six months old.

How the boy and his mother had become caught in the storm, Freddy could only guess. He knew, though, that the woman’s last act had been to put her shivering baby in the only warm space she could find.

Her last words, too, had been a plea for Freddy to keep the boy warm. And, he supposed, alive and safe, if only she had still had the breath to ask.

After making sure to acquire a clear image of the woman for his memory files, Freddy stood with the baby still cradled in his hands. His chest cavity was not the safest place for a child, but their options were admittedly limited. Just before he could return the boy to his stomach to continue to warm up, he noticed cursive stitching on the corner of one of the blankets.

Gregory, it read, dark blue on a soft, pastel green.

His voice box did not appreciate being used before it was fully warmed up, but Freddy said anyway, “I will keep you safe, Gregory.”

Gregory’s eyes flickered open, half-lidded, looking at him without comprehension. Freddy carefully tucked the blankets around him better. “Sleep, Gregory. The storm is not yet over.”

With a yawn, the boy closed his eyes and did just that. Satisfied, Freddy returned him to his stomach with the utmost care. The program he had for monitoring its contents was not often used, but he turned it on now and added it to his background programs that ran at all times. Returning to his place between Chica and Monty, Freddy slipped into standby mode rather than go fully offline again.

And in his chest, safe and warm and orphaned, a tiny heart beat.

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's feelin' the love #Star's Stories #life and times of star

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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You said you go feral for Yan! Erasermic (me too), so what about them with a darling with a disability/chronic pain like EDS or arthritis where some days, like after a particularly long day on their feet or a cold or rainy day, they can barely move because of the resulting strain on their joints? (Maybe a little bit of self projection in this one oops)

Pain: Yandere! Erasermic

(wow what a unique title. Everyone give 1 clap for me)

Hey, thank you so much for requesting. I'm so glad you all liked my previous Erasermic post. I still have another Erasermic request and 2 others. So idk what self projection is but I tried to do it after looking it up. If I didn't hit the mark, please do tell me so I know what it is for future posts. Also, I read up a bit on EDS for this one. Hope you enjoy! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Erasermic:

Once again, one of the best yanderes to be with.

They have read about your condition, consulted various doctors. They probably know more about it than you do, and you were born with it.

Speaking of doctors, they'll get you the best treatment available. The medicine cabinet is full of expensive drugs, legal and illegal ones too if they help you with the pain. Who's going to do a drug bust on the nations top pro heroes?

And while medicines are effective, they do have side effects as well. Which is why Hizashi will also be looking up all sorts herbal medicines. Often giving you his homemade special herbal mixed teas.

Aizawa wouldn't let you out of bed, insisting you rest. He'll often either use his scarf or put a weighted blanket on you, just to ensure you wouldn't get out of bed. He'll either get you things you need or pick you up and take you wherever you have to go.

During winters, they will be super reluctant to let you out of the house. They know what the cold does to your joints. If you absolutely do have to go, they'll go with you in a heated car, and you're wrapped up in layers, almost making you suffocate in them. Even during other seasons, if there is even a light breeze, they will quickly get you their coat or jackets or better yet, you all cuddle up to share the body heat.

Massages and cuddles. Big time. You'll always be between them, Aizawa towards your back, rubbing your lower back to release the knots in your back, and Hizashi in front of you, showering you in kisses.

They're always so gentle with you, both in and out of bed. They know that your skin bruises up easily, so they're always extra careful with their touches.

And while they do know that your disease has you in agony, they can't help but be happy internally. They love how you're dependant on them; even for things you can do yourself, they won't allow you to. And how often you praise them with such beautiful words and thank them with such unforgettable memories.

If you have a job, especially one that makes you leave home, you need to forget about it. They'll be continuously telling you to quit your job; that they are more than happy to provide for you. If you really do love your job, you better not complain about the pain, because once even a whimper escapes your lips, they'll hand in your resignation on your behalf and won't listen to anything you say.

You walked home from the bus stop. A bad decision really, considering you already had a massive headache at work. And now you walked home, and even though the your home wasn't far, your feet were aching badly. You felt like your kneecaps were going to twist out of position any moment. You could've asked Aizawa or Hizashi to drive you home but you didn't want to bother them. After all, they are pro heroes.

Once you finally got home, you were greeted by Hizashi. "Hey dove! You're just in time. I made your favourite today! Why don't you go freshen up! Shou will be home any minute!" You nodded, not even having the energy to speak, and went upstairs to your room. Your head felt like it was going to explode. You sat down on the bed and started massaging your temples to relive some pain. You groaned slightly as your cold hands touched your forehead, your eyes screwed shut. Suddenly, your cold hands were pulled away and were replaced by rough, warm hands. You didn't have to open your eyes to know it was Shouta. He started massaging your head, knowing exactly where to put pressure, finally giving you some relief. "Feeling better?"he asked. You opened your eyes, smiling gratefully at him. "Yeah. Sorry for worrying yo-" He cut you off by pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You didn't. Why didn't you ask me or Hizashi to pick you up?" "I didn't want to bother you guys." You replied. "Nonsense. You know you can ask us for anything." He said, almost sounding like he was admonishing you. He sighed, quickly picking you up and walking towards the bathroom. "Your feet must be killing you too. Let's take a bath first." "But Hizashi already made dinner. We should go eat-"you were interrupted, this time by your other boyfriend. "I can heat it up again. Your muscles must be sore. I'll run a hot bath for us." He said, before plugging in the bathtub and turning on the knob, and pouring in some essential oils and bath salts. "Thank you" you said to both of them. They smiled at you. Once the bath was ready, they helped you out of your clothes before taking off their own. Aizawa helped you into the large to bathtub, your back against his chest as Hizashi sat on the other side of the tub, effectively trapping you between their legs.

Bath time was everyone's favourite time, especially yours. Aizawa would always give a relaxing massage to your shoulders, kissing your forehead with your body pulled flushed against him. Hizashi would rub your feet with such expertise; always managing to get some sinful noises from you. "Tough day at work?" Hizashi asked. You already knew what was coming. "No. I'm fine really. Just a bit tired is all" Shou tutted at you "you know better than to lie to us. Tell us how you're really feeling."he said, his tone turning serious. You sighed, "seriously, I am fine. Just had a small headache. Nothing to worry about." "When it concerns you, everything is worrisome for us. Especially when you hide your pain" Hizashi said, his brows furrowed in genuine concern, making you feel guilty. "You should quit your job." Shou said, kissing your earlobe. "But I don't want to. I really do like my job-" you tried to say but Hizashi cuts you off "yeah. She should just stay at home and rest. Her health is getting worse, you know" "it's really not-" again you were cut off, this time by Aizawa. "I agree. I just don't feel at ease when she's out of the house. I'll talk to her boss tomorrow and explain why she won't be returning home anytime soon." "What? No-" you hated how they talked about you like you weren't even there; this was just the one habit you hated about them. Hizashi nodded this time, running a hand through his hair "yeah. And if you go in person, I'm sure they won't even ask her to put in a 2 weeks notice-" "NO!"Finally, your outburst had got them to pay attention to you. "Hey whats wrong?" Hizashi asked, running a hand over your thigh. "I just- I just don't want to leave my job. I know you guys are only saying this because you love me but I like my job. I like working there. And I know you guys are more than capable of taking care of my expenses as well, but I just hate being dependent on my boyfriends for everything. I am very grateful to both of you, but I don't like being a burden on you guys." You said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and your eyes filled with tears. Your headache returned again; you didn't like to argue with them. Sensing your discomfort, Shouta started to rub your temples again, kissing your neck and apologising for distressing you. Hizashi pulled himself towards you and wiped the tears away from your eyes, also apologising. "Oh we are so sorry for making you feel like this. You're not a burden to us. We love doing these things for you princess. We do, believe me." Shou nodded before speaking "of course, its your life. You're going to ultimately make all of your decisions. We're just worried about you. We don't want you to strain yourself, kitten." Now you started to feel bad, "no- no its okay. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have reacted this way. I know you both love me and care about me a lot. I just hope you understand where I'm coming from." You said to them, your eyelashes heavy with tears. "We know. We know you love us just as much we love you. Let's just forget about this topic and go eat some dinner, yeah?" Hizashi said, before getting out of the tub and helping you out. "Yeah. I am feeling a lot better. Thank you both" you said, kissing them. "Thats good to know. However, I feel like you should take a few days off work. Just to be safe" Aizawa said, handing you both a towel each. "Yeah. I could use a break too. And Shou you should take tomorrow off as well. You need to catch up on some sleep." Hizashi said, helping you into your clothes. You didn't want to argue anymore so you agreed "okay. But only if Shou stays home too." Aizawa kissed your cheek and smiled "sure. Just have to run one errand in the morning and I'll be back before you know it." You nodded before all of you went down to eat, not knowing that the "errand" would be ensuring that you get fired from your job.

Hope you all liked this one! Please do tell me if I did it right. Did I get what you were asking for? Also requests are open! :)

#yandere erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa x reader #yandere present mic x reader #yandere hizashi #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha imagines #yandere mha #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader

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shinsorokiri · 4 years

Note

Can we have a headcannons of shinso,hawks, aizawa, and dabi finds out their female s/o (s/o has a really powerful quirk) was badly injured by an unknown villain and s/o were not going to able use her quirk anymore. By the time their s/o wake up, s/o Actually lost all of her Memories, please?

Shinsou, Hawks, Aizawa, and Dabi HCs

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of stab wounds, sad bois

A/N: This was a trip to write! This was the first time I ever wrote for anyone other than Shinsou, so I hope I did okay! I changed it a little so the reader lost all/most of her memories in regards to her s/o because I didn’t want to go so far back as to take away absolutely everything including her memories on how to walk, talk, etc. because could you imagine how genuinely traumatic that would be? I would have no idea how to properly write about that. Also, the villain is similar to Ty Lee from Avatar: The Last Airbender. They’re able to block someone’s chi flow, and in doing so are able to take away a quirk and people’s memories. I hope this is to your liking, and thank you so much for requesting!!

shinsou hitoshi | mindjack

After graduating UA the two of you immediately became underground heroes

And of course who better to train under than Aizawa

But in all seriousness

You two were a force to be reckoned with

The mix of your insanely powerful quirk and his with his top notch physical combat skills really came in handy for catching and apprehending criminals

The only problem was that you two constantly tried to save each other

If anything went wrong

One of you guaranteed would sacrifice yourselves to save each other

And so far it hadn’t been anything too bad

A few broken bones

A couple of scars

Lots of reprimanding on both ends

But today was different

You and Shinsou were fighting a new villain

And his hand to hand combat rivaled Shinsou’s

And while they were fighting

You saw him about to strike Shinsou on the back of his neck

You being you

Jumped in the way

Instead getting whatever punch that villain was about to throw

You thought that was it

Until you felt the villain hit you a few more times

And you fell down on the ground

But hey that’s nothing

You can still defend yourself with your quirk

Obviously

But wait

Why isn’t your quirk working?

What is going on?

You keep trying to activate your quirk but literally nothing is happening

Which is not good

Especially considering the villain has his attention focused all on you now

“Hitoshi! He-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before the villain is hurting you

And they’re hurting you bad

Hitoshi catches him in his binding cloth as fast as he can

But not before the villain knocks you unconscious

The craziest thing Hitoshi noticed was that the villain knocked you unconscious with just one hit to the back of the neck

The one he tried to use on him earlier

Weird

Hitoshi keeps him trapped in his binding cloth

And is high-key glaring at this dude

“What did you do to her?!”

The villain just laughs

No response

And Hitoshi can’t help it

His anger overtook him

And next thing he knew

The bad guy was also unconscious on the ground

Oops

He runs over to you

Saying your name to see if your responsive

Which you aren’t

Which scares him

He notifies the hero agencies in the area about the villain

And waits until some of them show up before hurrying you to the hospital

Luckily you have a pulse

You’re just very beat up right now

And for some reason you weren’t using your quirk earlier

Hitoshi noticed that

He also noticed the fear in your voice when you screamed his name

That was uncharacteristic of you

Regardless he gets you to the hospital

And they take you back right away

The best healing quirks in the place get to work on you as soon as possible

All the while Hitoshi just waits

He’s absolutely terrified

He can’t lose you

You’ve been the best thing in his life since high school

There’s absolutely no way he can lose you and make it out okay

He’s notified that you’re in stable condition

But probably won’t wake up for a few days

And that when they did a scan of your brain to see if you had a concussion or brain damage

Something seemed wrong with it

Parts of your brain that should be working just weren’t

And of course that freaked him out

But he pretended like he understood everything

In front of the doctor at least

When he was in the room with you alone though?

Boy was sobbing

He was a mess

All he wanted was to turn back time and make sure none of this ever happened

He blames himself

Of course he does

He was there

And he still couldn’t save you

He stays by your side for the next multiple days

He will be there when you wake up

And every day you’re getting better

And eventually

You wake up

now he’s ecstatic when you wake up

Even though you look very confused

You’re awake

That’s the best thing ever

“Oh my god (Y/n) you had me so worried I thought you were never going to wake up again and I was just so freaked out and-”

“Shinsou? Why do you look, like… older…?”

Wait

What

Two things

You haven’t called him Shinsou in years

The last time you did was probably a few weeks into you two dating

Then you made the transfer to Hitoshi

Because you were his girlfriend

Granted you started dating your third year at UA

But you were friends for a year before that

And older?

What was that supposed to mean?

“Uh… what do you mean…?”

“You don’t look seventeen anymore… you look like… a little older? What’s going on?”

Seventeen

Did you think that he was seventeen?

What

He must have look confused

Because you started blushing

He always found it cute when he made you blush like that

Not making sense in front of him was something that you hated because he would turn it around and make fun of your for it later

But he didn’t like it right now

“(Y/n)… have we graduated UA yet…?”

“What? No… we’re in our second year… right…?”

Ouch

Big fucking ouch

You think you’re still in high school

And to make matters worse

It’s the year before you two started dating

You don’t remember anything you two have done together

At all

“Shinsou… are you crying?”

Shit

He didn’t even realize there were tears coming out of his eyes

“Uh… yeah. Um. We’re not in high school anymore. We graduated.”

He presses the call nurse button

And then a nurse and a doctor come in the room

You look at him with a confused expression as he just stares at the ground

The best parts of his life are gone from your memory

That’s what the doctor meant by parts of your brain weren’t working

And he was devastated

And maybe this had something to do with you not using your quirk during the fight

The only thing he could think about was going to the prison that villain was in

And he didn’t care what he had to do

He would get answers from him

He would find a way to fix this

He had to

aizawa shouta | eraser head

Workplace romances are such a cliché

But that didn’t stop you and Shouta

I mean how could it when he looked like that

Y’all had lowkey crushes on each other ever since you first met each other two years ago

But it escalated into something much more intense

Not that either of you were complaining

And yes

The kids did ship you two

And yes

The kids were scared of both of you

But they loved how strong and how protected they felt with both of you around

And they loved how strong and protected the two of you were over each other every time ether of you saw any danger

You were there to save him

And he was always there to save you from whatever was about to happen to you

He only didn’t make it in time the one moment it mattered the most

The League of Villains infiltrated the school again

And this time at night

When all the teachers were supposed to be sleeping

But fortunately for your students

You and Aizawa had been on edge and taking shift staying up all night to make sure they were safe

And you were awake the moment the League popped in

You immediately got to work

Easily taking down many of the villains

And in the commotion

Aizawa woke up

Along with many of the other pro-hero teachers

So everything should have been fine

That is until a new villain appeared

No one has seen this person before now

And they took no time in fighting you

You were the one who stopped all the others after all

And they were very agile

Very good at hand to hand combat

Aizawa saw what was happening and tried to rush over to assist you

But before he could get there the villain grabbed you

And hit you in multiple points of your body

Aizawa saw panic flash through your eyes as you fell to the ground

You held our your hand to use your quirk

But nothing happened

You tried again

But there was nothing

And that’s when the villain started mercilessly beating you!

Love it

And Aizawa couldn’t even help

Because another villain started going after Aizawa

Which meant he couldn’t get to you

All he could do was hear you getting hurt

And see it out of the corner of his eye while fighting off the villain

It didn’t take him long to capture the villain

But it took long enough

When he ran over to you

You were on the verge of being unconscious

And the villain hit you in the back of your neck

And a weird light thing emitted from their fingertips

And you were knocked out

The villain was about to attack Aizawa

But before they could they were pulled back into one of Kurogiri’s portals

And then they were gone

Aizawa picked you up

Wincing at how bloody, bruised, and broken you looked

Genuinely very panicked

He rushed to the infirmary

And Recovery Girl was woken up in the commotion

Waiting to heal a broken bone or two

She was not expecting to see what Aizawa brought to her

She went to work as soon as you got there, though

Healing most of your injuries

But she could just

Sense that something was wrong

Something was very unnatural about you right now

She let Aizawa know something was wrong

And he started panicking right away

What did she mean something is wrong?

What could that possibly even mean?

He found out that one of the things that meant

Was that you weren’t going to wake up for a few days

Recovery Girl would help heal you every day

Constantly trying to help you wake up

But that weird off feeling never left her

And then you woke up

And after talking with you for five minutes

She knew exactly what was wrong

And then she asked you to use your quirk

And she realized just how genuinely bad this situation you were in was

She went to Aizawa’s class

Calling him out to the hall

He was in the middle of lecturing 1-A

But he left without hesitation

“Did she wake up?”

“Yes… but-”

“But? There’s a but?”

Now Aizawa usually never interrupts Recovery Girl

But this was about you

And she knew that

So she didn’t sass him for once

“She doesn’t remember the past few years of her life.”

“…What?”

“She… she doesn’t know who you are, Aizawa.”

He’s quiet

You didn’t know who he was?

“And she still can’t use her quirk… I don’t know what that villain did to her, but she’s showing no signs in regaining anything. Besides, she didn’t even have a concussion or anything and I’ve never seen a quirk like hers just… get taken away like this.”

Aizawa still says nothing

He’s hearing everything

But he doesn’t really feel like doing anything right now

He just wants to zip himself up in his sleeping bag

I mean

He truthfully just wants to hold you

But now that you don’t know who he is?

That probably wouldn’t go well

And he is not taking it well

He goes back in his room

But he doesn’t resume the lecture

He just says that they’re going to study quietly for the rest of the day

He doesn’t care right now

Besides they do have exams coming up and knowing over half of these kids they could use some goddamn study time

But they can tell something is just wrong

Especially when he just curls up in his sleeping bag

He makes sure to face away from them so they don’t see his tears

Of course after around fifteen minutes of this

Present Mic comes in

He heard about what happened

So he told Aizawa he was there to take over his class

Aizawa left without a word

And beyond his better judgement

He went to the infirmary

He stood outside for a few minutes before Recovery Girl came to the door

“If you want to see her you can, I’m sure she’d love to know who she’s been intimate with for the past year and a half of her life.”

He nods

Making sure he doesn’t look too much like shit

Then walking in

Sure enough you’re awake

But when you look at him he doesn’t see the usual sparkle you get in your eye

And instead of the smile that screams ‘that’s my boyfriend!’

It’s just a polite smile

“Hi… I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

“Yes.”

His voice comes out quieter than he intended

It’s hard to hear that come from you

And he isn’t necessarily happy that it’s coming from you

“Oh… well, um… this is awkward but-”

“I know you don’t remember. And that’s okay. I just… wanted to see you.”

He doesn’t really want to come out and say ‘hey! you’re my girlfriend! we’re in love! i love you!’

But he knows he’ll have to

He could stay quiet

But that wouldn’t be fair to you

And he hates keeping things from you

“Oh? Would you mind telling me who you are?”

He takes a deep breath

Clearing his throat to fight back the tears threatening to start again

He won’t cry in front of you, though

He won’t let himself

He doesn’t want to make it worse for you

“I’m Aizawa Shouta, and we’ve been a couple for the past year and a half. I don’t know if I should have told you that, but honesty is just really important to me and well… I never lied to you or kept anything from you before and I’m not about to start doing that now.”

You stare at him without saying anything for what feels like forever

Until you finally speak again

“Could you… tell me about our relationship…? I have to admit, you’re a very attractive man, so… I’m willing to try if you are.”

Damn

Now he’s crying

And as much as he wants all of your memories to come back

He doesn’t care if they do

He doesn’t even care if you want to actually take him back

All he knows is that you’re never getting hurt again

No matter if it kills him

He’ll keep you safe now

No matter what

keigo takami | hawks

Keigo always worried about you

He couldn’t help it

It’s just the way he is

But no matter how much he worries he always knows that you’re strong and you can defend yourself

I mean, you were one of the best pro-heroes in the field

And yes

He did constantly brag about how you were amazing

He just preferred when you were amazing with him

That way he can assist in making sure you are okay

And in his worrying he may sometimes fly around where you’re patrolling just to check in

He also just misses seeing your face sometimes

Someone is whipped

But yeah he was flying around where you were on patrol today

Just looking to see you and maybe swoop down and annoy you for a bit

But for some reason he can’t??? seem???? to find you????

And now he was concerned and alert

It’s very unlike you to not be where you’re supposed to be

You’re very passionate about helping people after all

He circles keeps flying around until he spots on of your sidekicks

Who admittedly looks very stressed

He lands next to them

Scaring the shit out of them in the process

“Hey kid, any idea where (Y/n) might be? Haven’t seen her and I circled this area like seven times.”

Your sidekick doesn’t say anything for a second

Because they’re thinking of how to phrase what happened

And that extra moment of silence just proved to Keigo that something was definitely wrong

“Where is (Y/n)?”

Keigo’s fun loving demeanor everyone loves s completely gone

He looks very serious

It’s only to cover how scared he is though

Doesn’t mean your sidekick isn’t intimidated

“We were all fighting this villain who made their first appearance today and uh… they kind sorta maybe did something that may have taken away (Y’n)’s quirk and then they kinda ‘made an example of her’ and now she’s in the hospital…”

Keigo immediately takes off for the hospital

He doesn’t even say anything else to your poor sidekick who now thinks Hawks is going to hate them for not helping you

When his phone was constantly buzzing he just assumed it was the Hero Commission getting on his ass for posting that picture of you and him kissing on instagram

So he just let it buzz

He never even looked at his screen

Until now of course

And just as he expected

All the buzzing?

Actually missed calls from you

If he would have checked, then maybe you wouldn’t be hurt

He’s at the hospital in like

Five seconds flat

Don’t underestimate his already speedy self when it comes to you

He hurries in and sees another one of your sidekicks about to leave

“Where is she?”

Your other sidekick points in the direction, telling him your room

He’s about to sprint there when suddenly your other sidekick stops him

“Hawks, I just need to warn you. It’s… pretty bad. Not only did the villain beat her within an inch of her life but she wasn’t able to use her quirk at all after he did this weird hitting pattern thing. She’s probably not going to wake up for some time.”

Keigo just stares at them

And they hurry away

Which causes him to deadass RUN to your hospital room

Sure enough you’re lying there

Lots of machines hooked up to you

He expected it to be bad

But he didn’t expect it to be this bad

He hurries over to you

Grabbing a random chair and sliding it so he could be at your bedside

And he carefully grabs your hand

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he tastes his tears

He could have prevented this

If he would have just come to see you a little bit earlier

If he would have just checked his phone

This is how he feels about the entire situation for the rest of his life

Especially for the two weeks you were unconscious in a hospital bed

Luckily, you were a graduate from UA and when Recovery Girl heard what happened she began helping your healing process

It definitely sped up your recovery a lot

And Keigo was very grateful

He just wanted to talk to you again

Maybe even hug him if he weren’t in deep shit for unintentionally ignoring your calls

So imagine how sad he got when he came to the hospital after his patrol (like he did every day) only to find out you woke up without him being there

Bird boi did a big sad

But he was anxious to finally talk to you again

At this point he would be genuinely happy if you started yelling at him

He missed you 🥺

He made his way to your room

Nervous but excited to see you again

When suddenly

A doctor stops him

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m her boyfriend, I’ve been coming here every-”

“I know. I just need to prepare you for what you’re about to see. Something that that villain did cut off her connection to the part of her brain that has the knowledge and information of her quirk, meaning she has no recollection on how to access it. Now she remembers having a quirk, and not being able or knowing how to use it has been very upsetting for her... how long have you two been together?”

“One year.”

“How long have you known her?”

“We met two and a half years ago when she first became a pro... why?”

Keigo isn’t stupid

He has an idea why the doctor is asking this

But he doesn’t want it to be true

“The villain also cut the connection of her brain that consists of her long term memory. Fortunately, it didn’t make her forget too much...”

Oh thank god, for a second Keigo though that you wouldn’t remem-

“Just the past two years... but I’m sure she’ll still be happy to see you.”

Keigo stares at the doctor with a blank face

The past two years?

That means that you’ll barely know him

Yeah you guys got along before you started dating

Obviously you were friends

Keigo doesn’t trust easily so entering a real relationship with someone he just met is a no go

But this means that so much of what you two have is just

Gone

“Uh... Hawks?”

The doctor is looking down at his arm to which Keigo follows the gaze

Somewhere in his thoughts he latched onto this man’s arm

To be fair he was doing everything in his power to have a mental break right then and there

He let go

“Sorry. I... can I still see her?”

“Yes, just try not to confuse her, please?”

Hawks nods

He walks in the room and sees you sitting up

You’re gazing out the window when you turn your head to look at him

The shock is evident in your face

“Hawks? What are you doing here?”

Two years was before you knew his real name

Ouch

“Thought you could use the company. After all, not many heroes get attacked by an unknown villain and survive.”

“Did Miruko set you up to this? Really, it’s okay, you don’t need to-“

“I’ve had my fair share of close calls, dove, but... I never had to go what you’re going through, and I need to be here to help. Helping people is what I do, after all.”

He sees a small smile break out across your face

“Thank you.”

The two of you talk for a few hours

He catches you up on everything he can

But he can’t bring himself to let you know about your relationship

Or maybe he just can’t say out-loud that you don’t remember who he really is

Maybe it would just hurt too much

Regardless, he has to leave eventually

And when he does he makes it a point to find out who this villain was that just uprooted yours and his lives

And he knows just the person to ask

todoroki touya | dabi

Heroes destroy everything

That’s what Dabi has always thought

And he’s not about to change his mind any time soon

Especially after what happened to you

He normally doesn’t get attached to people

But your annoying ass somehow managed to cling to him

And after about six months he didn’t mind it

He actually really enjoyed it

Not that he’d ever tell you just how much he enjoyed it

But you were the first and only person he’s even let near the real him

So even though he’s a little shit who pretends he doesn’t care about anything

When it comes to you

It’s very obvious just how much he gives a fuck

Which is why the series of events that happened to you absolutely destroyed him

It was just a normal day like any other

He was at the hideout while you and a few others were on a mission for the League

Now was he okay with you going on this mission without him?

Not necessarily

But it turns out that’s what happened anyways

To be fair Dabi did go a little too hard on his last mission and he’s still recovering

But he was still pissed he couldn’t go

Regardless, Dabi was waiting for you and the rest of the League to come back

Casually sitting on the couch

Smoking a cigarette in solitude

When suddenly

The rest of the League burst through one of Kurogiri’s portals

And to say they were frantic was an understatement

Dabi looks over

His usual uninterested expression present on his face

Until he sees who Magne is carrying

Spoiler: it’s you

And you’re unconscious

And you lowkey look dead

And that is the reason his cigarette literally bursts into flames

He’s snatching you from Magne before any of the other villains even have the chance to start speaking

“What the fuck happened.”

He doesn’t necessarily ask

He more demands to know

Shigaraki walks past him, obviously annoyed because he’s scratching at his neck again

“There’s a new Underground Hero after us.”

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me right now, why does my girlfriend look fucking dead you fucking-“

“She threw herself at the hero because unlike you, she somewhat understands that me ending up like how she is right now would put an end to this entire thing.”

Dabi glares at Shigaraki

So the reason the only person he’s ever trusted in this world is severely injured is Shigaraki

“Why wouldn’t you-”

“She’s faster than me. Or she was. Whatever the hero did took away her quirk. That’s why she’s like that. Now leave me alone, I need to reevaluate everything now because of this little incident…”

Shigaraki starts muttering as he walks to his room

Dabi glares at the others before taking you into his room

He lays you on his bed and assesses you for injuries

He isn’t the best at treating things

But the deep cuts where it seems like you could bleed out at any second?

He can help with those

You’re probably going to kill him for the scars, though

He doesn’t really have time to think about that though considering you’re dying on him

He immediately begins cauterizing your wounds

For like the first time ever the familiar scent of burnt flesh makes him frown

But it’s only because he knows that it’s your flesh that’s burning

He carefully removes your destroyed villain costume

Placing you in one of his hoodies

Specifically the one he knows you love

Even though he barely lets you wear it because he knows you love it and he loves to piss you off

You always say it smells like him and you like it

Which he doesn’t really understand because he doesn’t wear cologne and he’s pretty sure he reeks of cigarettes, burning flesh, and alcohol

But you say there’s a comforting kind of campfire smell mixed in there too

Plus, he wears deodorant so there’s that smell too

He figures you’ll appreciate it when you wake up

If you wake up

He begins bandaging you up

He’s very careful to clean everything to ensure nothing becomes infected

Of course he’s just recalling what you do for him from memory

He’s hoping he’s doing well

After he finishes all that, he checks to see if you have any broken bones

Much to his relief, it doesn’t seem like it

Just a lot of bruises in random places

And y’know

Several severe puncture wounds

At least none of them were in lethal places

Damn heroes and their ways of not killing unless absolutely necessary

Just severely injuring

It’s obvious that that hero was trying to prove a point in hurting you like this

But how did he even manage to get you?

You’re usually so quick in fights because your quirk

Yeah

Shigaraki said something about your quirk being gone or something?

Dabi is sure it’s only for a day

Maybe two

It’s not for good...

Right...?

He sighs, getting into his bed with you

He gently pulls you against him

He wants you to know you’re safe when you wake up

As safe as you can be in a bar full of villains and with one of the most dangerous and angry ones holding you in his arms of course

He also just wants to know that you’re here

And you’re okay

Because you have to be okay

He glances at the clock in his room

And sees that it’s late

He should sleep

Key word should

But he’s a little preoccupied in his mind going through the ways he’s going to torture and kill whoever did this to you

And this goes on for a week

He doesn’t sleep

He barely eats

He spends all his time with you

Anyone who gives him shit gets a new burn mark on them

Sorry not sorry Twice

He makes sure to change your bandages and check in on your every day

Which is very unlike him

And he knows it

And honestly he hates it

But you’re special to him

And even though he’s a heartless piece of shit who loves to make fun of you and pretend like he doesn’t care

He does

He really does

So imagine how happy he feels when one day he’s holding you

Like he always does

And then you twitch

He immediately sits up, staring down at you

And sure enough, you open your eyes

He can’t hide the small smile that spreads across his face

“Looks like someone’s lazy ass decided it was time to finally wake up.”

He expects to hear one of your sarcastic quips about how you were just brutally beat and how you don’t need his snarky comments at a time like this

But you just stare at him

And you look... confused?

“What’s wrong, doll?”

His voice changes from sarcastic to concerned

Why were you being quiet?

You were never quiet with him

“I’m sorry it’s just... who are you?”

He genuinely feels like his heart stops beating

That’s not a cute thing to do to him

“Very funny, (Y/n). Can you see how amused I am? How much I’m laughing at this shitty attempt of a joke.”

“I’m being serious, asshole. Who the fuck are you, where the fuck am I, and why does everything hurt so much?”

He freezes

“You really don’t remember me...?”

“Should I?”

“Considering I’m your fucking boyfriend, yeah. You should.”

“Oh. Well, sorry. No idea who you are. Don’t even know your name and, wait boyfriend? I have a boyfriend?”

Okay this is officially not a joke now

He tries to get what happened out of you

But, as he expected, you have no idea

He clenches his fist

A flame appearing

“Woah there, hotshot, calm down. You’re still sexy as hell even if I can’t remember you, so you have a good chance with me again. Just... tell me where I am? What’s going on? Your name...? Why the eerie smell of deaht mixed with a campfire is actually very soothing to me right now?”

He tells you everything

And that campfire comment low-key made his heart swell because awwww his little crazy doll is just genuinely crazy and enjoys the smell without even knowing it’s his how sweet 🥺

But he has to ask Toga for help to explain what happened to you

And he realizes that wow

If your memory is gone then your quirk is probably definitely gone too

He leaves you with Toga so she can tell you all about how good of friends you two are

And goes to Shigaraki’s room

He doesn’t even knock before entering but before Shigaraki can scream at him Dabi asks a simple question

“Where can I find this new hero?”

976 notes · View notes

dameronology · 3 years

Text

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning

It had only been five days.

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe.

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy.

‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn.

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response.

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in.

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting.

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor.

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled.

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments.

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours.

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled.

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries.

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love.

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep.

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress.

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him.

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights.

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly.

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile.

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron blurb #poe x reader #poe x you #poe fluff #poe imagines #poe imagine #poe blurb #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fluff #star wars imagines #star wars imagine

258 notes · View notes

spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

What’s That Vegas Saying?

Request(?): Just saw this tiktok where a girl and her friends were drinking shots, and the alcohol was in these tiny test tubes. the one girl had the end of the tube in her mouth, grabbed her friend’s face so basically the alcohol was being fed to her and I immediately thought of doing that with Spencer.

The request (?) was gifted to me by the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: alcohol consumption, intoxication, major pining (lol oops)

Masterlist

___

Team bonding with the BAU was not as simple as it sounds. They couldn’t just stay in the woods on a camping retreat; they’ve seen too many cases in the woods. Going to the beach was just... weird. And apparently hunting down the sickest minds or eating pasta at Rossi’s mansion wasn’t “team bonding” enough.

“How about we go to Florida?” You asked the group seated around the conference table. The chorus of unenthusiastic groans of disagreement served as your answer.

“If we want to be surrounded by drunk teenagers, maybe,” Derek piped up, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at his sarcasm. As sarcastic as it was, though, he was right. It dawned on the group that there was possibly no where to go that didn’t either have bad memories, or would definitely create some.

That was until Spencer Reid broke the silence.

“What if we go to-” The suggestion didn’t need finishing; they all knew what he was going to say. As quickly as it left his mouth, regret etched his features with the realization that not only was the team going to hop on the idea, but if he had not spoken at all, they might not have even considered it.

“Boy Wonder does it again!” Penelope shouted in her usual enthusiasm, although unlike most times, this held a bit of mischief as well.

“That’s it,” Emily jumped in. “We’re going to Vegas, baby.”

And that’s how the team found themselves on a plane heading straight for Las Vegas, Nevada. More importantly, how you found yourself next to a more than usual jittery Spencer Reid. You knew for him, going home wasn’t exactly a team bonding vacation, but more anxiety than normal.

Anxiety about what exactly?

The question remained in your head for the first hour of the trip. That was until you couldn’t ignore the way his leg basically shook the whole plane, and his constant moving eyes flickering between anything he could out of the tiny window.

“Hey,” you said putting your hand on his knee softly, the bouncing immediately halting. “Are you okay?”

The bouncing didn’t return when the question left your mouth, but tension in his muscles returned. His whole body went rigid at your words.

“Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” The question came with no malicious intent, but the speed at which it left his mouth confirmed his growing worry.

“I’m not going to pry, but I will tell you this,” you say as you squeezed his knee before releasing it.

Spencer would never say it, but he missed the warmth of your hand on his skin too soon after it was gone.

“This could be your chance to let yourself go and finally have fun in the one place that seems impossible for you to do so.” You hoped your words reached him as you watched his eyes flicker rapidly again, the movements so subtle that if the small lights above you were off, you may have never noticed.

He was trying to let your words sink, wrap his brain around logic that had no scientific reasoning or fact to back it up. You could only hope he heard you, really heard you, and when his eyes halted and a small smile stretched his features, you couldn’t help but return the gesture with a fluttering heart.

“You may just be right.” He finally made eye contact with you, causing both of your smiles to grow wider.

With a new found serge of confidence with the hot doctor who unknowingly held your heart, your smile turned to a smirk and you leaned in so your cheek was besides his.

“And you know what they say.” You turned slightly so your eyes could rest on his side profile and gauge his reaction. It didn’t last long, because sensing movement, Spencer turned slightly too. His face was stoic, but behind his eyes there was something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You let your eyes drift to his partially parted lips, and then back to his eyes, all within less than a second.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

The same day the plane landed the team found themselves in a club that night. It was 9:57, but from the way half of the team joined Penelope is taking back shots, you could tell it was only the beginning of the night.

That’s when you noticed that Spencer wasn’t like you or Aaron pacing yourselves for the night. Actually, the doctor wasn’t drinking at all.

“Spence, you’re not drinking tonight?” You asked over the loud music that pulsed through your body. When Spencer’s eyes met yours, however, your heart beat faster than the club’s rhythm.

“No, I um- I don’t think really like alcohol.” Something about that answer didn’t sit well with you, but apparently you weren’t the only one.

“You don’t drink for the taste, Boy Wonder,” a very drunk Penelope yelled from across the booth.

“I’ve just never drank anything I liked.” That was definitely the worst thing Spencer could say. The second the words left his mouth, Penelope and your head shot up to meet one another’s eyes.

The “Let’s Get Spencer a Drink He’ll Like” plan blossomed in your one second of shared eye contact.

“I think it’s time we change that, Pretty Boy,” you said with a smirk Spencer melts for, even if that look meant trouble for him later on.

“On one condition,” he started, and turned his body to face yours directly. “You try everything I do.”

You contemplated for a moment. His request meant getting shit-faced in front of your coworkers, but the saying does go what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

“You’re on.”

Penelope all but dragged a slightly less drunk Derek to the bar to fetch Spencer and you some drinks. In the meantime, Hotch stared at the two of you looking at each other, smiles beaming.

“You know,” his voice broke through the trance you two unknowingly had on the other. “I’m not helping either of you out of here when you two get too drunk.”

“I’m with the boss man on that one,” a very, very drunk Emily slurred.

“That goes for you too, Prentiss.”

Before either of you could defend yourselves, Penelope was back with a tray of assorted shots. There were at least 7 different types of shots, two for each.

“Alright here’s how this is going to work,” she said as she put the tray in front of you two. “I will tell you what’s in them after you’ve taken them.”

The two of you stared at the tray, your face full of excitement, Spencer’s nervousness. When you two looked back at each other, he gave you a soft smile.

“Hey.” You put your hand on his on the table as you spoke. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

His hand flipped under yours to give you a reassuring squeeze, his smile growing into a smirk as he did so.

“Let’s do this.” Your hands pulled apart as you both decided to start with the clear liquids first. The smell alone was enough to make you want to gag.

Spencer stared at it quizzically before turning to you.

“Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

You both knocked them back as quickly as you could. You couldn’t help the scrunched up face you made as the liquid burned it’s way down your throat.

Spencer had the same face you did, obviously not enjoying the first drink of the night. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find his scrunched up nose and eyes adorable.

“That was vodka!” Penelope through giggles as the team laughed at you and Spencer’s disgust.

“Yeah, no shit.” The next shot you and Spencer picked up was also clear, but Einstein did say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

“Oh god, here we go again,” you mumbled before throwing the shot back, Spencer following your lead.

Tequila.

He slammed the shot glass back on the table with a slight cough.

“That was so much worse than the first one,” he squeaked, and you couldn’t help the giggle from escaping. Spencer looked over at you and let out a breathy laugh.

“Regretting your decision now?” He asked.

You grabbed the next shot off the tray, this one having a small brown tint. He grabbed the matching one.

You clicked your glasses together and said “Never,” before finishing the third shot of the evening.

By the time the tray was finished, Spencer did not find a drink he enjoyed, but neither of you could remember what the actual goal was.

Spencer and you were both lightweights, so by the time the shots were cleared, you caught up to the rest of the team’s drunk level.

Sloppiness was a better word for it. At one point you stood behind Spencer with his head leaning back into your hand as you poured another tequila shot down his throat. At another, you had been dared to give JJ a lap dance that you didn't object to doing.

Now, the team found themselves seated at the booth sharing drunk horror stories.

All of a sudden, Spencer shot up from his chair on legs that can only be compared to a baby deer’s, drawing the attention of the entire team.

“I think I have something to say,” he yelled, and while he seemed uncertain that he wanted to say what was on his mind, there was no uncertainty in his next statement.

“I have a crush on Y/N.” Smiles spread around the table as the team realized it only took a little alcohol for this to happen. The only two not smiling was Spencer, who was staring at his now empty chair with confusing on what the fuck he was doing etched all over his face, and you, who’s jaw was on the floor.

“Hell yeah drunk confession!” Emily yelled, breaking the silence amongst the group that the music had the courtesy to fill.

You realized it’s been way too long for you to not say anything, and whether it was the alcohol or the confirmation you needed, you yelled back at him.

“Oh my god no way.” His head turned to you, the look of confusion replaced with... regret? Anticipation? Hope?

“I have a crush on you, too!” You said it as if the two of you realized you like the same TV show, or are wearing the same socks.

Your casualty about the whole thing made Spencer feel significantly less awkward, and he made a mental note to thank you later.

“No way, for how long?,” he mimicked you from before in the same tone. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes and bright smiles.

“Since my first day six years ago!”

“Me too!”

The rest of the team just sat there, laughing at the two who finally admitted their feelings for one another.

“You know what we should do?” Spencer asked you, excitement spread through every inch of his face, and his hands moved between the both of you.

“Especially since we’re in Vegas,” you finished his question, catching on to what he was trying to get at.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He needed confirmation that he was not the only insane person at this table.

Insane and drunk were interchangeable, right?

“Let’s get married in Vegas,” you both said at the same time, and the relief you both felt when you realized the other was as insane as the other came out as two laughs.

But, as the idea was shared between you two, the team sprung into action.

“Oh no. No, no, no no no,” Derek grabbed Spencer’s shoulders and kept him firmly by his side, JJ doing the same to you.

“How about we get you two to the hotel instead?”

And then you woke up in your hotel bed with no recollection of how you got there. Your head was pounding as the sunlight seeped through the cheap hotel curtain right in your eyes.

You groaned and shot up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes the best you could. To your right on the nightstand were two advil, a glass of water, and a note.

You took the advil as soon as you laid your eyes on them before picking up the note to read.

Lunch at noon Next time, we’re going to Florida -JJ

So JJ was the one that brought you to the room after...

Oh god, oh no. That was so stupid. Getting married in Vegas is so stupid why is that a thing? You internally screamed. But wait, Spencer likes you?

You needed to find Spencer. Grabbing your nearest jacket, you threw it on before basically running out the door.

You didn’t get very far, because the second you turned the corner, you ran into something hard.

No, not something, someone. Spencer stood before you in the same state you were in; disheveled, hungover and a little worried.

“Hey, I was just coming to find you,” you said, trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness between you two.

“Ye-yeah me too. I uh, I actually wanted to ask you s-something.” Well so much for alleviating awkwardness.

“You can ask me anything, Spence.” He looked up at you and gave you his signature tight lipped white boy smile.

“I know they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but when we get back, would you want to maybe grab a coffee or something?” He said rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Like a date?” You didn’t even bother to hide the hopefulness in your voice and on your face. You wanted nothing more than to go on a date with Spencer Reid.

“Yeah, a date. Is that.. okay?” The longer it took to get a yes or no, even a maybe, was enough for the anxiety and regret to start to blossom. You wouldn’t let it grow anymore, though.

“Of course it’s okay, and yes, I would love to get coffee or something.” You giggled back at him, looking up to meet his eyes that matched the ones on the plane; filled with love.

Love for you.

____

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#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #what happens in vegas #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #bau

260 notes · View notes

lazy-alex · 3 years

Text

FADE AWAY

Fade away

PROMPT- "light" | Day 10 | ROMANTIC

Jasonette July 2021

MASTERPOST

Jason Todd dropped everything as soon as he heard the call.

Marinette- his Marinette- is on the hospital. She was found lying on her apartment; unconscious. Her neighbor found her and called the ambulance.

She's in the ICU, in critical condition.

Jason's motorcycle can be heard speeding trough Gotham streets. He didn't care if he's breaking speed limits. He needs to be by her side right now, like how she's there when his life is dark.

Just like how her smile lights up his world everytime he seed it. Even her presence can light up a whole room. Her beautiful dark blue hair and bluebell eyes, and those tiny stars on her face.

His light to his darkness.

Jason made his motorcycle move faster.

Fuck.

He might just not see that smile again.

When Jason arrived at her door, he noticed that there are many people outside. From their clothing, Jason could guess that they're doctors and nurses. They seemed to be talking. Jason's footsteps interrupting their conversation.

Why the heck are there so many?

Jason approached the group of people. A doctor (or nurse?) noticed him. "Mr. Jason Harper?" he asked.

Right- Jason Todd is legally dead. Smart.

"Yea, that's me," After hearing that, almost all of them deflated. Jason raised his eyebrows, secretly worried on the problem. "What's wrong with her?"

They all looked into each other, deciding what to say.

One short female stepped forward to answer his question. "We tried everything we could. We couldn't find the reason." She lowered her head, refusing to look into his eyes. "We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't fucking know?!" Jason shouted, anger in his voice. They flinched away in fear.

"Jason," a hand rested on his shoulder. Jason turned around to be faced with Dr. Leslie. Jason calmed a little bit to the familiar face. "why don't we go inside?"

Jason nodded, wanting to see his girlfriend.

The room is dark, Jason observed as he stepped inside. The only light source is a small lamp beside her bed and the window.

Marinette's sleeping figure lay on the bed; a bunch of tubes connected to her body. The machines helping and monitoring her have slight beeping noises.

Jason's heart hurt at the sight. His features immediately soften at the sight of his pixie.

"Jason," he turned around at the call of his name. His eyes met the sad ones of Leslie's. "I know you're not going to like this, so I'm gonna be straightforward. Jason, she's only got a few hours to live. I'm sorry."

Tears started to form in Jason's eyes, he pushed them back. He slowly moved towards her.

"No..." Not my Pixie... Not my light..

Leslie went to the door. "I'll leave her with you," A click sounded in the room; indicating that the door is shut.

"Mari... Pixie..." He whispered as he sat on her bedside; stroking her hair.

Marinette opened her beautiful bluebell eyes. "Mhhmm... Jay?"

"Shhh.. I got you," Jason kissed the back of her hand while holding it.

"You're crying." She pointed her finger to the tears on his cheek. Marinette tried to wipe it; but she didn't have the energy to do it.

Jason just wiped it himself and shook his head. "And you're fucking dying."

Marinette just smiled sadly. "I know,"

"Why didn't you tell me Pixie?"

"You didn't ask," he did. Plenty of times, but she always said she's fine. Jason knew she was lying. But he also knew Marinette wouldn't do it without a reason. So he let it slide.

He wished he didn't.

"Mari- tell me what's wrong." Marinette just looked away.

"It's not like I'm important anyway,"

He softened at her words, "You are important to me Mari- Heck- You're important to everyone." He paused. "So please, please tell me what's wrong."

Marinette turned to face him; tears are falling onto her cheeks.

"I knew this was coming Jay," she sobbed. "I- I knew this day would come, so I tried not to get attached," she laughed lifelessly. "But look at us now. I can't go, not now. I can't leave you Jay..."

At this point both of them are sobbing.

"Then tell me how to fix this, I'm sure Bruce can find a way!" Jason held her hand and squeezed it. "Pixie, please, tell me there's a way..."

Marinette just shook her head, "There's none, this is a price for something I did. The Miraculous is all about balance, we can't stop this. Even if we do find a way, fate will find more ways to fix the balance. Chances are high that it will be worse than this, I- I can't let that happen Jay..."

"Fuck Mari-" Jason put his hands to his face. "-now I can't stop crying."

Marinette laughed, a sad laugh.

The room became silent after that. It was them savoring each other's presence. They know that they couldn't do anything. They couldn't fight fate. They just need to face it. Jason didn't know if he could survive this; her gone. He needed her, just like how she needed him. He doesn't want to loose his light.

It was Marinette that broke the silence.

"I know you Jay, you can get trough this," she laid her hand on top of his. "You are the strongest person I know."

Jason just looked at her, so she continued talking.

"Don't give up even when I'm gone. I will always be in your memories. Make sure to treasure them," Jason laughed at her statement. She just smiled. "I want you to think that I never left your side, a part of me will stay forever in you. I don't want you to turn off the fire when there's still fuel left."

"I wont." she nodded.

"Be happy Jay, don't stop because of me." she took a deep breath. "Promise me Jay, that you'll keep living. That you won't stop."

Jason poured all his feelings in these few words. "I promise, with all my heart." he meant it.

Marinette smiled, a genuine smile. It seemed to make the dark room a little bit brighter.

"Good,"

And with those last words, Jason saw the light fade from her eyes.

Oops! Got a little longer than intended. (Seriously, this was supposed to be 300+ words. How the heck did it turn into 1012 words?) I really enjoyed making this. I've been planning this for a long time. And I loved writing this.

How it turned into angst: *me finding a sad song and replaying it on loop*

@jasonette-july-event

(Late post haha, blame the almost 24hour no electricity. My battery died after my last post. ;-; )

#Jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette july 2021 #O.o #maribat #late post #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #Sorry not sorry

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whump-me-all-night-long · 3 years

Text

The Jewelry Box: Amber’s Beginning pt. 3

Okay, so it is going to be at least four parts because Sapphire doesn’t know how to shut up. I’m also working on several other pieces, but I’m trying to get these first parts out before posting any of those!

Taglist: @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @bluewhalewaffles @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: intimate whumper, creepy whumper, collared, multiple whumpees, lady whump/whumpees, referenced death, referenced brainwashing, long-term captivity, dehumanization, slight victim blaming, panic attack, referenced branding, cursing because Amber and Sapphire, let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

---

Jess banged lightly on the glass wall-door thing. “Hey!” they called. “You asshole! Come back!”

They groaned softly, resting their head against the glass as the world spun around them. They did their best to quell the panic threatening to overwhelm them. They didn’t know when the Jeweler would be back or who any of these other people were.

“Didn’t take the pill?” A low, kind voice asked.

Jess glanced up in surprise. “What?” they said, not registering the question or who spoke.

The large dark kind man in one of the cells diagonal from them smiled. “When he offered you the pill earlier, you didn’t take it, did you?” he repeated, sympathetic.

Jess made a noise of disgust. “Hell no,” they snapped. “Who knows what that was. I’m not taking a shady ass pill from a guy who, who fucking abducted me!”

In the cell next to theirs, the angry blue one from earlier laughed. “So we finally got someone with a brain, huh?” he said, voice dripping sarcasm. “Well, not smart enough to avoid getting kidnapped.”

Jess craned their head and met the guy’s steely gaze. “Says you,” they bit back. “How long have you been here?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Seven years. How long do you think you’re going to last? I doubt you’ll even get to see your one year anniversary.” He sneered. “A pretty thing like you will get sold in no time. That’s if the Jeweler doesn’t kill you first.”

“Sapphire,” the kind one warned.

Jess had met Sapphire’s type before and expected him to ignore the other one, but to their surprise, he backed off. “Fine,” he muttered, taking a couple steps back, out of Jess’ sight.

The purple haired woman in the cell across from Jess’ sighed dramatically. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still crying over your little friend,” she mocked in a surprisingly high voice.

Jess jumped as Sapphire surged forward and banged on the glass so hard it rattled. “Shut the fuck up!” he snarled. “I will fucking kill you if you even mention him again!” Jess felt a cold sliver of fear curl up in their stomach at the pure murder in Sapphire’s tone.

The woman was about to snap back when the red head a couple cells down from Jess pleaded in a sweet, low voice, “Guys, come on. Can we please not do this again?”

The green-eyed and -haired one smiled appreciatively at her. “Ruby’s right. It’s hard enough without you two at each other’s throats. Plus we have someone new.” He looked back at Jess. “What’s your name?”

Jess scowled. “Like I told crazy before, it’s-”

“No,” Sapphire quickly cut them off. “Not your real name. What’s the name the Jeweler gave you?”

Jess glared at him. “I don’t- uh, Amber, I think. But my name is-”

“-irrelevant,” Sapphire interjected once again. “That name isn’t going to help you here. You have to learn to play the game, you understand? Forget your old name, bury your memories so far down the Jeweler can’t find them. Those just, they just make it harder.”

Jess huffed out a breath. “Well, I don’t exactly plan on staying here for very long.”

Sapphire laughed coldly. “None of us do.” He pointed at each of the other Jewels. “Ruby and Amethyst have been here for four years, Emerald’s been here for eight, and I’ve been here for seven. You think any of us just woke up one day and decided ‘hey, let’s get abducted by some rando and completely lose our old life?’ No, we didn’t.”

Jess glanced at the one he hadn’t mentioned, the pale one who had smiled earlier. “What about them?” they asked with a point of their chin.

Sapphire didn’t blink. “Diamond’s been here longer than any of us, nearly eleven years. But they’re different.” Sapphire’s scowl caused Jess to swallow hard. “They like it.” Enough contempt filled their voice that Jess didn’t pry further.

They glanced around at the others. “And none of you have, what? Ever tried to escape? Come on, you can’t just be okay with this.”

“Of course we aren’t,” the dark one, Emerald, said. “But we’ve all been here long enough to know that it’s better to fight silently than constantly try to go head to head with the Jeweler.” He tilted his head, amending, “Well, except for Sapphire, but the Jeweler likes for him to fight back.”

Jess shivered, feeling panic creeping in. “No, this is- this is crazy. This cannot possibly be happening right now. You all- you’re insane. You’ve been brainwashed into- into believing this shitfest.”

Sapphire snorted. “Of course we have. You don’t go years in captivity without a little brainwashing.” He smirked, eyeing Jess. “Don’t worry, it’ll happen to you, soon enough. Then this gets a hell of a lot easier.”

��Sapphire,” Emerald said, a warning in his voice.

Sapphire glanced at him. “What? It’s not like they won’t know soon. The Jeweler will be back for them any minute.”

Jess tried to remember how to breathe. “Wait, what’s about to happen? What the hell is going on?”

Sapphire turned his gaze back to Jess. “Just this,” he said, ignoring Emerald’s sigh and flashing the inside of his wrist towards Jess.

Jess leaned forwards, horror filling them. “Oh my god,” they breathed. “What is that?”

The skin on the inside of Sapphire’s wrist was red and scarred. It was in the shape of a gemstone, with the letters JB inside of it. It looked years old and yet still very painful. Jess rubbed the inside of their wrist and, as they glanced around at the others, they saw similar - no, identical - wounds marking them all.

“They’re brands,” the purple one, Amethyst said, voice flat. “It’s how the Jeweler marks us as his property. As property of the Jewelry Box.”

“God,” Jess mumbled, backing up. They stumbled into the edge of the bed and nearly fell over it. “This- this can’t be happening. Oh god what did I have last night? This, this has got to be the craziest dream, or, or trip that I’ve ever had.” Their breaths sped up and they clutched their stomach, feeling nauseous.

Sapphire snorted from beyond their sight. “Good luck, kid.”

“Sapphire,” Emerald said reproachfully. “You shouldn’t have told them. I know you’re still grieving, trust me, we all are, but you know it doesn’t help for them to know ahead of time.”

“You know nothing about how I’m feeling!” Sapphire snapped back, voice distorted, as if it was coming from a long ways away.

Jess moved away from the glass until their back hit the cold wall. Then, they slowly slid down, hands clutching their head. “This can’t be happening,” they whispered, squeezing their eyes shut. “This-this isn’t real.”

It was as if there was some heavy weight on their chest, making it impossible for them to fill their lungs. Their fingers pulled at their hair until tears of pain welled up in their eyes. They bit down on their lip, trying to stay silent as their face quickly became wet. They gasped for air, fingers tightening on their scalp as they rocked slightly.

They knew they were going to get in trouble one day, Jules had always told them that. Everyone had always told them that. But they hadn’t expected it to get this fucked up. They hadn’t expected to end up in the clutches of a psychotic murderer. This was the sort of stuff people made horror movies about, not stuff that happened in real life.

Jess didn’t know how long they stayed like that, taking one short, shallow breath after another, feeling their head spinning as they tried to make themself as small as possible, but they were suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen over the room. Where Sapphire, Emerald, and Amethyst had been arguing, now there was only the faint blowing of the air conditioning.

“Amber,” a too-gentle, too-familiar voice called softly, causing them to look up.

They saw the Jeweler standing in front of their cell, key in hand. He smiled when their eyes met.

“It’s time for the rest of your initiation, dear,” he said, unlocking the glass door and sliding it open. Jess rose shakily to their feet, roughly scrubbing at their cheeks and scowling, all too conscious of the others staring at them. They shuffled their feet, not going any closer to the Jeweler.

“No,” they said in a low, hoarse voice.

The Jeweler’s smile widened. “What was that?”

“No,” Jess repeated, voice stronger. “I- I’m not going with you.”

The Jeweler tilted his head slightly. “And why is that?”

Jess shifted on their feet. “I- I know what you’re going to do to me. And I don’t want to, to be branded like some sort of animal!” They glared at the Jeweler, who just sighed and turned his gaze towards Sapphire.

“Really?” he asked. “You know telling them beforehand always makes it worse.”

Sapphire replied in a deadpan voice, “Oops.”

The Jeweler turned his attention back to Jess, smiling again. “Now, my dear, you’re going to be coming out of that cell sooner or later. I’d much rather make this as pleasant as possible for the both of us, but I’m not afraid to make this uncomfortable for you.”

Jess just scowled. “Make me,” they bit back.

The Jeweler shrugged, fiddling with something in his hand. Then, all of a sudden, there was lightning bolting down Jess’ spine, fracturing along every nerve. It felt as if they were on fire, every inch lighting up with pain.

Then it was all over, and they were panting, palms stinging slightly from where they had fallen to their hands and knees on the ground, and the Jeweler was standing over them, that smile still on his face.

“You bastard,” Jess growled, still breathless, unable to fight back as the Jeweler attached a pair of cuffs to Jess’ wrists and ankles. “Is- is this some sort of shock collar?” Their voice was incredulous as they couldn’t believe it.

The Jeweler just patted their head, pulling them to their feet and steering them out of the cell. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if you had just cooperated in the first place,” he said cheerfully.

Jess shrunk down, head pounding and legs shaking underneath their weight, as they glanced at the others, but nobody seemed particularly surprised or inclined to step in. Emerald gave them an encouraging smile, but Sapphire shrugged like ‘I told you so.’

“Now, then,” the Jeweler said, pushing them onward. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

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onlyanidala · 3 years

Text

onlyanidala fic archive

These are fics with titles J-P.

A-D E-I R-T U-Z

searchable desktop version available here

more anidala fics can also be found in our fic tag!

the link for each fic can be found by clicking the title!

Title: just a bliss Author: stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary: A lightheaded Anakin Skywalker wakes up to the heavenly vision that is Padmé Amidala. Can you blame the man for wanting to kiss his wife on the spot? Well you can, when the whole thing is witnessed by a room full of senators caught in a hostage situation... and she'd really rather they had waited for later.

Title: just carry me home tonight Author: gemma Status: complete Rating: R Summary: "I – I didn't mean to, it's only that… Well, the Force, it lets me feel… What you feel, and I know this wasn't exactly what you imagined for your wedding night, so I…" His flesh hand rose to scratch his neck awkwardly, "I suppose I just wanted to make this special for you…"

Title: king of my heart Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Anakin Skywalker's holiday to the small country of Naboo takes an unexpected turn when he unknowingly foils an assassination attempt meant for Padmé Naberrie, the nation's Crown Princess. Saving a Princess is crazy enough. The only thing crazier... well, actually, there are a few things. Things Anakin is well on his way to experiencing.

Title: lights in the valley outshine the sun Author: elizabeth7 Status: complete Rating: G Summary: What would happen if Padme survived and Darth Vader finds out? Padme & Anakin Darth Vader.

Title: look into my eyes it’s where my demons hide Author: shelivesfree Status: WIP/Unupdated Rating: T Summary: Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him.

Title: lost Author: pinkeastereggs Status: complete Rating: G Summary: “I feel lost." “Lost . . . what do you mean?” Padme couldn’t help but frown, searching for any signs on her husband’s face that could give her an insight to what he meant. But Anakin was just frowning to the side, seeming conflicted about something. He seemed distant, his eyes filled with an emotion that the young wife couldn’t begin to describe. How long had Anakin had this look in his eyes? Had she been oblivious to it before now or was this something new? Anakin and Padme have a heart-to-heart when he admits to feeling lost and frustrated with the Jedi Council. With truths about his relationship with Palpatine coming to light, Padme fights to talk some sense into her husband.

Title: madam president Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: R Summary: Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.

Title: make the world a little colorful Author: estrangedlestrange Status: WIP Rating: G Summary: The morning after meeting her soulmate, Padmé woke up and saw color for the first time. In the midst of a political crisis, Padmé had just met a gungan, two Jedi, and a slave boy and his mother. She, like any rational young woman, assumed the padawan learner was her soulmate. Ten years later, after having accepted that she would never be with her soulmate, Padmé, reunited with both her supposed soulmate and the slave boy, she realized how wrong her assumptions were. The slave boy, Anakin, who had looked at her with wide hopeful eyes and asked if she was an angel, was her soulmate.

Title: the masterplan Author: stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary: In the midst of the endless galactic conflict, Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala have made a shocking discovery that brings more questions than answers. And maybe, just maybe, an end to the never-ending war. Sequel to Give Me A Signal.

Title: mother knows best Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.... Shmi Skywalker Palpatine had ruled the Galactic Empire on behalf of her son, Anakin, since the death of his father. For his part, the next Emperor has been content to leave politics to his mother and engage only in military exercises. All that is about to change as Padmé Naberrie, former Queen of Naboo, comes seeking aid for her charity, Amidala's Crusade, and Anakin's long-dormant crush comes surging back. What should be a perfect match is opposed by a mother determined not to lose her son and convinced hers is the only way...

Title: no colors in our skin Author: JTHM_Michi Status: Abandoned Rating: T Summary: Anakin grew up knowing that his masters called him the wrong words. They all called him “girl” or “girl-child” and it was just another way for them to dehumanize him. He didn’t know that, of course, not in those words, but it was true enough. His mother was always very clear with him, from the first time he came to her and asked her if she knew which master had taken his “boy parts”, that just because his masters called him a girl didn’t make him one. a.k.a. the Transgender Anakin Skywalker Verse

Title: no heroes on the high seas Author: spellcleaver Status: complete Rating: T Summary: When Luke's aunt and uncle are executed by order of the Emperor's right hand, Lord Vader, he flees his home to search for his sister and the mother he never knew. But then Obi-Wan Kenobi stows away aboard the same ship, Vader gives chase, and Luke is dragged into a conflict that his family are at the very heart of. Gen.

Title: nos cedamus amori Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: M Summary: Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.

Title: of mutated worlds Author: gemma Status: WIP Rating: M Summary: Nobody saw the end of the world coming. It happened overnight, no warning, no escape. They came from the shadows, biting, paralysing, and killing little by little until they were the majority. One day, everything was normal and then, suddenly, Padme Amidala Naberrie woke up in hell.

Title: of options and comlinks Author: estrangedlestrange Status: complete Rating: G Summary: In that moment it seemed like there were only two options: help Master Windu arrest the Chancellor and secret Sith Lord or heed to Sheev Palpatine’s begging and turn against the Jedi. But then, in a split second, a third option revealed itself.

Title: order 66-S Author: disco shop girl Status: complete Rating: M Summary: The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.

Title: parent-teacher conference Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary: Anakin has to meet with the twins' second grade teacher after Leia punches a classmate in the face. But he hadn't counted on Ms. Amidala being quite so pretty.

Title: pas de deux Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary: When Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker meet at their mutual friends' house party, the sparks immediately fly, resulting in a one night stand that both of them want to be the start of something more. Except it turns out that Padmé works at the ballet company Anakin just took over. And Anakin is in the middle of a very heated divorce as he tries to gain custody of his daughter Leia. With pressure coming at them from their private and professional lives, making their fledgling relationship work will prove the biggest role of a lifetime.

Title: the path of the dark Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Vader triumphs. Padmé resists. Series:Three Paths Not Followed. Series: The Darker Path.

Title: perfect Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary: The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.

Title: perfect strangers Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: R Summary: Anakin Skywalker meets a masked angel at a Halloween costume ball, and the two of them hook up for the best night of his life. But when the morning comes, she is nowhere to be found. Padmé Amidala forgot to get the name of a guy she hooked up with at Halloween before running out for work on November 1. A few weeks later, she realizes she's pregnant. Two perfect strangers, certain their paths are never going to cross again. Oops.

Title: pipe dream Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.

Title: pocket full of sand Author: philthestone Status: complete Rating: T Summary: “I’m Leia Skywalker,” she says, and there is something unfathomably life-changing about that little declaration. “We’re here to rescue you!” Luke remembers the circumstances of his mother's arrest with a frustrating amount of clarity. AU series where Anakin never falls, Padme is a spy in the senate, and the dynamic duo of Force Sensitive twins don't know they're related.

Title: purgatory Author: helent Status: complete Rating: T Summary: A newly dead Anakin Skywalker wakes in a new world - given the appearance of his 23 year-old self. However, the self-sacrifice that ended his life has also given Anakin an unexpected boon that he isn't sure he can accept. Worse, it comes with conditions that might just be impossible to meet. A moment of redemption is one thing, but a full reformation another entirely.

#anidala #star wars #sw #fic recs #sw fic recs #fanfic #fanfiction #onlyanidala fic recs #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #sw fanfic #sw fic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

him halting over words and nat gently encouraging him to keep going and assuring him he doesn’t have to be embarrassed and he’s doing well, the baby isn’t judging she just wants to hear chris’s voice. and he can keep going 🥺

CW: Brief reference to past pet whump/noncon, adult illiteracy, some stimming, referenced parental death

Naomi and Natalie are in the kitchen talking over lunch, eating grilled cheese and tomato soup while they plan some kind of party for Miss Ruth that the old woman isn't supposed to know about.

Their voice filter softly through to the living room where Chris sits, legs crossed, humming while lining up a set of blocks from darkest to lightest color. He's already eaten, and so has Kaelah, Naomi's daughter. He could have gone back to his room, but instead he decided to watch Kaelah, and felt himself melt happily when Naomi didn't even hesitate before saying it was okay for him to be alone with her in the living room.

He was never trained for Domestic or Companion work - he was never meant to be wanted for those things, only for one other thing, the thing he never wanted - but he likes kids, and they seem to like him, and he likes that Naomi thinks he is a good person, good enough and smart enough to not hurt something so precious to her.

He's proud, and nervous, and Kaelah has already tried to pull a small pile of books down over her own head. But he caught those before they fell, so he still feels pretty good about it all.

Now, they're playing blocks, although mostly Kaelah is ordering him around while he lines them up. But it's like playing. And lining the blocks up in a perfect row is soothing, and feels good.

It's right for them to line up just so, turned at right angles to each other on the ends.

Kaelah - two years old with frizzy dark curly hair and bright big brown eyes - is watching Chris with rapt fascination as he works. She has a matching unicorn t-shirt and leggings on, and Chris would wear unicorn shirts if there were any in his size.

Or if Jake wore them, because they'd be safe shirts, then.

"Wed," Kaelah says, solemn and demanding, and smacks at a big red block. "Wed, K'iss."

"Red," Chris says, softly, emphasizing the R sound, and taps on the block, then picks it up and adds it to the line. "That's, that's, that's red... red block."

"Wed," Kaelah agrees, and smacks the block again.

"Good, um, good color, good, good color, Kay," Chris says, and finds another red block to place next to the first one. "Reds, reds are good."

Jake is out with Addie, and Antoni let Kauri take him shopping at Kauri's favorite thrift store. Leila is out with who Chris thinks is her boyfriend, not that Leila tells anyone anything ever. It's just Chris and Natalie, Naomi and Kaelah.

The toddler pushes herself to her feet and walks with an unsteady gait back to the big bag that the blocks came from, pulling things out to discard on the floor without looking, clearly on a mission.

Chris watches, head tilted, hair over his eyes. He's been growing his hair longer, and the copper brushes almost to his shoulders. Some days he holds it back with a clip.

Sir would hate his hair this long, but Chris likes it, likes the swoosh of the end of the strands along his skin if he tilts his head just right, the soft weight on the back of his neck so unlike his collar. A weight he can lift just by pulling it back. A weight he controls.

Sir would hate his earrings, too, two black studs punched in his earlobes and then one tiny silver ring up in the shell on the right side. He wants one in the cartilage, too, but he has to work up the courage to look at the needle again.

Kaelah pulls out stuffed ponies in rainbow colors and a brown fuzzy monster with disturbingly real-looking teeth she calls her "ugler friend", a small bag of glow in the dark unicorns in flat green, GI Joe's, a firetruck that makes siren noises and lights if you press a button on the side, a confused looking plastic fireman, and then finally a box larger than her own head, with big thick cardboard pages.

"Weed, K'iss," Kaelah says, toddling back over with the book clutched in her chubby fingers, dropping it without ceremony directly into his feet. "Weed. Weed now, weed, weed, K'iss!"

Chris runs his fingers over the smooth shiny cover, squinting against the first hint of a headache when he looks at the seemingly hand-drawn letters in yellow layered over green and blue and red. "Good, goodnight Moon," He says haltingly out loud.

Kaelah grins, flashing little baby teeth, clapping. "Moon book!" Then she makes her eyes very big and says, "Pleaaase Moon Book?"

Chris's heart skips a beat, nerves sparking over his arms, but he gives a faint smile and nods. He can do this. The book isn't so many pages, and he's been working so, so hard. He hasn't passed out trying to read in weeks now. Last week he even read Kauri a whole poem.

Kaelah plops herself right down in Chris's lap, snuggling her back right into his chest, her soft frizz of hair tickling his narrow chin. Chris opens the book and looks down, taking a deep breath.

His head hurts in warning, but it's not too bad. And if he's going to be able to go to college, he's going to have to be able to read to take the test for it.

When he starts to read, he feels a strange sense of being somewhere else, a long time ago, and that he isn't the one reading but the one being read to.

"In, in the... The gr... Guh-errrr... gr-ate... great green, green room there was a, a, a... a tuh-ehl... tele... telephone, and a red buh, balloon... and a pick-... picture of the cow juh-... juh-humping oh, over the moon..."

His voice is low and halting, and Chris has to push through the static and ache that tells him not to do this, it's against training, against policy, it's not allowed. He hates his reading voice, slow and stumbling, sounding out phonetics. He's eighteen years old, almost nineteen he thinks, and he can't read.

His lips press together, fighting the sadness and anger. Chris isn't angry very much - he's too happy for that. But sometimes happiness at what he has still gets all mixed up with his furious grief over everything he must have lost.

Whoever he used to be could read, he knows that. Whoever he used to be could read, and do math problems that didn't involve pictures of apples, and wouldn't have to struggle to read to a little girl the easiest book in the whole world.

This is your favorite, huh, baby?

The memory of her voice has been worse when he reads, but he doesn't tell anyone.

He's afraid if he tells, he'll stop hearing it again. He doesn't know whose voice it is, not exactly - sometimes he does but then the memory is gone again and he forgets - but he knows he loved her, and she's dead, and her voice is all he has to hold onto.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I'm, I'm, not... not not a good reader."

Kaelah, thumb in her mouth, turns to look at him and pops her thumb out. "K'iss," She says, firmly. "Weed, K'iss. Bun bun kitty."

"I, I know-" He's not sure how, but he does, he does know there's bunnies and a kitten and mittens and the old lady still whispering 'hush'... "I'm just, just, so bad, and-"

"Keep going, honey." Nat's voice is soft from the doorway and he looks up to see her leaning against it with one hand, in her usual jeans and shirt. Her shirt says PEARL JAM and Chris tenses as he realizes he read the words without thinking.

It didn't hurt any worse than the other reading already has.

"Keep it up." She smiles down at him, her brown hair carefully braided and laying over one shoulder. "You're doing great, Chris."

"But, but, but, but I, I, I keep having to... to-to sound it out," Chris says, slumping a little.

Kaelah smacks the open book with her hands. "K'iss more!"

"She doesn't mind that," Nat says gently. "She just likes your voice, and you. Take your time. Everybody starts somewhere, and you've already gotten over the biggest speed bump."

Chris swallows, looking down again. "I, I have?"

She nods and Chris licks at his lips, moving his finger to find the words to start again.

"And... and there, there were three little bears sitting on chairs-"

Oh, I did all those without sounding it out, he thinks, with a stab of something like a sharp pride.

"-and two little kittens and a pair of, of, of mittens..."

He turns the page and Kaelah takes up sucking her thumb again. Chris is aware of Nat still watching from the doorway, the warm and reassuring weight of her presence, and how badly he wants her to be proud of him.

"And a, a little toy house and a young mow, mouse..."

You got this, sweetie, you're doing so good! I'm so proud of you, reading so early! Screw your doctors, baby boy, we got this, you and me! Screw 'em for saying you wouldn't read!

Chris lets the elation in the voice of the woman he doesn't remember carry him through the rest of the words when he turns the pages again, bit by bit.

"And a comb and a br, brush and, and, and a bowl full of mush... And, and a quiet old lay-... lay-dee... lady who was, was whis-... whis-perrrr... whispering, 'hush'."

Goodnight room, reads a tiny boy's voice inside his mind, as the headache throbs but doesn't stop him.

"Goodnight room," He whispers, echoing the boy, the memory of someone he isn't anymore. "Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the, the moon."

Kaelah pats his hand with hers. Her little fingers are always damp. "Good job, K'iss," She encourages him.

Chris looks up to see Nat's smile.

"Good job, Chris," Nat says, and he breathes in the praise, lets it settle in his bones and rush through his blood.

In his head, somewhere deeper than the conditioned ache, she whispers, Good job, Tris, I'm so proud of you.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whump #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #chris the strawberry blond romantic #referenced parental death #referenced past noncon #box boy #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #neurodivergent whumpee #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #adult illiteracy tw #deconditioning #conditioning #trauma recovery #memory loss #fluff #angsty fluff

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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

Text

sweet dreams (are made of this)

✞ prompt: “You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.”

✞ pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader ✞ warnings: blood mention, the word bastard ✞ genre: fluff, a little crack, modern vampire au ✞ wc: 2.7k

✞ a/n: i was supposed to finish this yesterday so it would fit for jeonghan’s birthday too but it’s still his bday for me so its okay shhhh (even tho i rushed it oops) but it still fits under the cwc october event which i was very excited abt so i hope u enjoy!!

There’s an incredible amount of ups and downs to being roommates with Yoon Jeonghan.

The main downside was that he seemed to gain the reputation of the college campus crush. And even worse, you couldn’t find any reason to disregard the attraction towards him, with his good looks, intelligence and wit, musical ability, and athleticism.

Yet the upside is the very same reason, leaving your dorm empty for your own leisure often due to his popularity.

Perhaps that was for your own good, or his, that you didn’t find out his secret until later.

As you step inside one evening, one typically reserved for movie nights and indulging in junk food, you’re taken aback at the figure sitting on Jeonghan’s mattress. You recognize him as Kwon Soonyoung, the leader of the dance team, and he greets you cheerfully. You’re too flustered to notice the way he seems out of it, and he giggles, flopping down.

“Any spare blood?”

“Excuse me?” You blink, pausing in uneasiness as if you’d misheard. He opens his mouth to respond, sitting up and swaying slightly as if he were drunk, but before he can voice the clattering thoughts, the bathroom door slams open.

“Sorry, we were playing basketball and he got hit on the head really hard, just ignore him.” Jeonghan butts in quickly, hiding something behind his back while taking his friend by the arm, who sends you a toothy smile and a wave.

“Sorry if he said anything weird.” Jeonghan offers as he re-enters the room, and you assure him otherwise automatically, inquiring if Soonyoung was alright.

You’ve always been on amicable terms, always been something easily compelling about Jeonghan, teetering on the border of acquaintances and friendship, and you think it’s this moment that tips it towards the latter.

“Any plans for tonight?” He pipes up curiously, and you tell him hesitantly, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds fun.”

“Did you want to join?”

“If it’s not too much trouble?” He looks hopeful, neither of you even remembering the last time you both spent a night in the dorm in each other’s presence, and you rummage through your shiny bag of sweets to avoid awkward contact.

Yet you’ve always been told it’s only an awkward situation if you make it one.

“I’ve got enough snacks to share.”

Throughout the film, you don’t notice the way he barely touches them.

He tells you on a whim one morning, and he has to admit that the fact you hadn’t suspected anything pertaining to his condition surprised him. You’d grown closer in the passing months, and with many close calls, Jeonghan decided to bite the bullet.

“I’m a vampire.”

“Ha, ha, funny joke.” You don’t look up from pouring coffee into your chipped mug, and Jeonghan blinks.

“I’m not joking.”

“Yeah, and I’m a werewolf.” You deadpan.

“I’d hope not. Though I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell.”

Finally looking up at him, you study his expression, and it’s the epitome of solemness and sincerity, causing you to truly consider his words.

“So… those juice packets… that time with Soonyoung…” your mind races to draw the connections, and Jeonghan shrugs.

“Blood, and that idiot overworked himself that day and our dorm was the closest.”

“This better not be another prank.” You warn, and Jeonghan smiles.

“I’d never dream of it.”

You come to the conclusion that there’s no evidence to point otherwise to Jeonghan’s confession, and your mind is turned into a tangled mess of frayed threads.

“You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.”

You’re spinning on your desk chair, the circles making your head swim, but maybe that was just your mind attempting to comprehend the weight of his statement.

“Okay, rude.”

You lift your head to see if he’s really offended by your deprecating comment, but he’s absorbed with his phone, slumped down in his bed, smirking at whatever was being displayed. He glances up, catching your gaze with a quirked eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’re a vampire. And my roommate.”

And someone you have feelings for, your subconscious whispers devilishly and you swat it away like a buzzing gnat.

“So?”

“I dunno.” You sigh, unable to stitch together your words comprehensible to yourself and him, afraid of piecing together a monstrous Frankenstein to loom over you both. Instead you let your head fall to your desk with a full thunk.

He seems to suspect your hidden truth, and sets his phone aside, sighing.

“Didn’t you know you aren’t supposed to invite vampires in? That’s on you, really.”

You don’t reply, so he shuffles over, tapping the top of your head. When you don’t respond, he tugs at your hair lightly, still garnering no reaction. So he places his hands on each side of your head, lifting so you’d finally face him.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go. Mingyu has a ton of spare bedrooms at his place I can crash at.”

But you don’t want him to leave, pulling yourself from his touch, and with a dismissive air, as if you didn’t care whether he left or not, you tell him it doesn’t matter, whichever was easier.

“But if you stay, can I ask questions?” You add on, and he laughs.

“Tomorrow. It’s movie night tonight and it’s my turn to choose.”

“So do you sparkle in the sunlight?”

“Please don’t tell me all your questions are from Twilight.” He groans.

You’re lying on your stomach on your bed, Jeonghan sitting cross legged, facing each other.

“It’s a valid question!”

“No, I don’t. I can also eat food, including garlic, though not too much, I can see myself in mirrors, and can go in the sun but get burnt real easily.” He assumes a bored demeanour as he rattles off what you assume to be frequently asked questions. “Process of evolving I guess you can call it.”

You purse your lips, pondering what else to ask. “When were you turned into one?”

“Nineteenth century or so? I travelled the world a lot though, I forget.” He muses, and it’s just a number to you, not settling in his many years of life.

“Who else besides Soonyoung?”

Jeonghan rattles off the names of his friends, some that were completely understandable and others that stunned your thoughts.

“Is it… hard to live for as long as you have?”

He seems startled at your question, and ponders it, turning it over in his mind like the clothes tossed in a washing machine’s rounds.

“Sometimes.” He admits. It’s difficult to amount the trials and effort of living for decades into words, sometimes feeling as if you were stranded in the sea, bobbing with your head barely above the water, gasping for breath. Others, like you were floating in a serene pool, the sun warming your bones. You move on.

“Can I... y’know... see your...” you stretch your lips back slightly to show your teeth tentatively, pointing. Jeonghan obliges, baring his teeth, fangs snapping out briefly and he grins at your fascinated expression.

“Are you gonna ask me how it feels to be bitten by them?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort.

“I’m not looking for a death wish.”

“I know you’re curious! Everyone always is.”

Nothing externally changed, settling back into your daily routine (with the exception of Jeonghan spending more nights at the dorm); yet there’s still some inward aspects you both had to deal with.

You detect something’s awry with his mood the minute you walk in, Jeonghan not even sparing you a small nod in greeting or acknowledgment. No matter how tired or upset he may be at times, it never affected his fond disposition towards you. Setting down your belongings on your mattress, you pipe up nervously.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He responds in a clipped tone, pausing before elaborating slightly. “Just hungry. Forgot to restock yesterday. Texted ‘Cheol. Said he’ll come as soon as he can.”

You’ve come to know that expressed hunger for Jeonghan didn’t apply to the human need, but rather the vampire need, and you fidget with your fingers.

“Will you be fine until then?”

He nods curtly, and you know it’s not personal, but the manner it’s delivered stings.

“If you want, you could… I could help.” You finish lamely, nervously.

He snarls, lip curling, and it rises the gooseflesh on your skin, your hands tightening over your phone as your heartbeat pounds out of your chest.

“I said— just drop it, okay?”

You stand there for a few moments, feeling rooted to the floor as he turns away sullenly, and you force yourself to trudge away quietly. When Seungcheol arrives, he pulls you outside after delivering the packets.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He’s just a little grumpy, the equivalence to being hangry.” Seungcheol smiles apologetically. “I hope he didn’t scare you or anything. Jeonghan’s actually pretty tame when he’s hungry, but I know you saw Soonyoung once and they’re quite different.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Seungcheol looks at you curiously.

“Does.... blood taste different depending on the person?”

“Yes and no. For instance, we can tell if someone’s smoked or drank alcohol, but in terms of different people having different tastes, it’s just a matter of blood type. Why?”

“Well, I offered to... y’know...” you tilt your neck, gesturing lightly, and he nods understandingly, a smile and twinkle in his eyes. “But he got really snappish with me, so I guess I thought maybe my blood was weird or something.”

“Did he really?” Seungcheol is unable to hold back his smile this time, and you furrow your eyebrows, so he explains further. “A lot of media nowadays take the vampire biting to a whole sexual level, and to a certain extent it can be true, depending on when you were turned, but for others, it’s common for feeding to be completely off limits to those we're interested in. As a matter of respect, you could say.”

“Are you saying that...”

“I’m not saying anything.” Seungcheol holds up his hands in an air of innocence. “But try asking him.”

You mull over the words as Seungcheol departs, and re-enter the room to meet gazes with Jeonghan, crimson liquid drifting up the straw from the plastic packet.

“I’m sorry I was rude. I know you were just trying to help.” He swallows, licking his lips, and you catch a flash of sharp ivory.

“It’s okay. Seungcheol actually told me something kinda interesting.”

“Like what?” He straightens, setting the blood aside carefully, and you make your decision.

“Nothing.”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes, but doesn’t push, and you’re torn between feeling relieved and disappointed.

It’s not brought up again, verbally between anyone or within your thoughts, until Halloween rolls around. It’s almost ironic, you think, the most haunting night of the year opening the chapter that haunted you the past year.

“Are you coming to Mingyu’s party?”

“Wasn’t invited.” You shrug, and Jeonghan laughs.

“Like that stops most people. But if you really care, he said I could bring a plus one and I choose you.” He points at you playfully, as if choosing a Pokemon. “It's a masquerade. He’s always had a liking for those things, he used to throw them all the time back in the days.”

You don’t know how long ago he’s referring to, but you still attempt to picture Jeonghan and Mingyu elaborately dressed and adorned with delicate masks.

“So what do you say?” He leans forwards, as if your answer was an intimate secret, and you tell it to him, never having much luck in refusing Jeonghan.

He tells you he’ll meet you there, yet it’s an hour into the celebrations, and you’ve nursed a few drinks, danced with some strangers, and haven’t seen any sign of him. It’s apparently not uncharacteristic of your roommate, as you converse with the host, Kim Mingyu, so you don’t worry too much.

You’ve forgotten to track the passing hours by the time he arrives, lost in the lull of the rise and fall of voices and faces unknown.

“There you are.”

You almost don’t recognize him, gold spun locks turned to raven black, in addition to the mask resting upon his features.

“I couldn’t find you, so I had a few drinks with the guys.”

“You changed your hair.” It’s a childlike, wondrous instinct, the way your hand comes to curve into his hair, and he lets you.

There’s something addictive in the way you touch him, uncaring to the swaying bodies on the dance floor, the pulse of the music thrumming through your veins.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.” He pulls you away, searching for a relatively quiet place, but the bathroom is taken up by a poor soul retching into the toilet, the bedrooms locked (Mingyu having enough sense with that at least, Jeonghan thinks), so he finds a closet instead.

“Why are we here?”

He doesn’t respond at first, the closet shades slanting horizontal lights, framing his face dangerously, like the edge of a knife.

“I see the way you look at me. Like you love me. I’ve been around enough to see it.” Jeonghan doesn’t let you speak, yet you’re not sure what you’d say if he allowed you to. “You said the stupid part everyone would hate you for in a horror movie was letting me stay. I think so too. But I think my own part is falling in love with you back.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Vampires can't get drunk.” Jeonghan huffs, and you cross your arms disbelievingly. “Why is it that whenever I tell you something serious, you brush me off?”

“Because you don’t have to be so dramatic and make it sound like sarcasm!”

“Well, I’m not trying to!” He glares exasperatedly. You both stand in silence, until you pout.

“You didn’t have to say that liking me was stupid.”

“It is stupid.” Jeonghan snorts. “I’m a vampire. You’re a human.”

“So?”

Jeonghan pauses, sighing.

“I didn’t say I don’t like stupid things. I did confess to you after all.”

“Hey!”

He grins, stepping closer to grab your hands, slender fingers wrapping around your wrists before sliding down, perfectly fitting into your own. You tug him closer, and he propels himself snugly against you, chest to chest, breath fanning upon the shell of your ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

You don’t answer, nodding breathlessly, and he leans forwards, smiling against your lips.

Jeonghan takes out a box of mementos for you to rummage through a week later, spreading out the photographs, journal entries, and other knick knacks across your mattress you both sat cross legged upon.

He mainly does it for your amusement and interest, answering the spare question or comment you’d make offhandedly, browsing through his phone, but when you burst into giggles at a seemingly whim, he straightens up.

“What’s so funny?” Jeonghan peers over your shoulder, and you hold up the photograph gently towards him.

It’s not exactly comedic material, but something about the photo tickles your throat with laughter; Jeonghan dressed pristinely, a solemn, almost bored, expression upon his fine features, styled hair without one strand out of place.

“What’s wrong with that picture?” He jutted his bottom lip out accusingly.

“Nothing.” You assure with a gleam of a smile, and he rests his head on your shoulder after some inward deliberation at the truthfulness of your answer. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am I guess.”

He doesn’t move from his position, but you can tell he’s listening intently so you continue with a breathless laugh.

“You’ve lived for so long, and I get to be a part of it. Maybe I’m taking a page out of your dramatics, but I dunno. It’s nice to find something unexpectedly that I didn’t know I was looking for in you, even if it was kind of weird. I guess Seungcheol was right.”

“That was really sweet, and I thought we were going somewhere, until you said the last part.” Jeonghan furrows his eyebrows, looking at you confusedly, and you chuckle, telling him about the time Seungcheol dropped off blood for him last minute.

“Bastard.” Jeonghan mutters, and with your fit of laughter, it’s passed over, Jeonghan’s unsaid words lingering on his tongue.

He sets them free when you fall asleep on his lap, midway through parsing the box’s contents, and he cleans it up with his best to not disrupt your sleep, talking in a soft voice.

“Everybody’s looking for something. I’m glad we found that something in each other, in this lifetime. ” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you stir lightly, smiling gently.

“Me too.”

✞ taglist: @seijoh @soranihimawari @peachy-yabbay

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Not Your Average Love Story (SPN x CM)

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~3490

Warnings: Show-level violence, but that’s about it! It’s bizarrely fluffy.

A/N: My first square for @cmbingo: “meet the parents.” This is essentially a rewrite of Supernatural 12x01, “Keep Calm and Carry On,” except Spencer and Sam are adorable dorky murder boyfriends.

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the read-through!

When Spencer realizes he’s in love with Sam, he’s on a plane, hoping to make it to Kansas before the sun goes dark.

He looks out the window at the too-orange light, thinking, this is a weird twist for a love story. He turns that thought over in his mind and realizes: love.

Oh.

It takes him by surprise, for some reason, but only for a second. He’s starting to get used to surprises.

* * *

Spencer has always been self-aware enough to realize that his intellect and his lack of social skills would not make it easy to strike up a traditional relationship. Then, of course, you factor in his obsessive tendencies, his attachment issues, and the stresses of his job, and it’s not actually surprising that he made it past the age of thirty before he fell in love for the first time. Considering how that ended, it’s definitely a surprise — if not a minor miracle — that he’s made it this far with Sam.

Then again, nothing about their relationship has been predictable. Spencer never guessed he’d meet his future partner while dissecting a dessicated brain.

Ever since Spencer Reid met Sam Winchester, his life has been one surprise after another.

* * *

The third unanswered call makes him nervous, but he figures Sam must be asleep, or at least he should be asleep. If Spencer finds himself doing ninety mph in his tiny rental car, it’s mostly because Kansas highways don’t seem to follow the usual laws of physics. They’re flat and endless and eerie in the grey pre-dawn light.

The moment he opens the door, Spencer knows something is wrong. He spares a wishful thought for his Kevlar, and then he draws his gun, falling automatically into the too-familiar stance as he silently descends the stairs.

There’s blood on the floor.

This doesn’t surprise him in the slightest.

* * *

Spencer tends to spend a lot of time visualizing hypothetical problems and their solutions. He’s good at imagining all the potential outcomes of a particular scenario and calculating their likelihoods based on given variables. He frequently does this at night, instead of sleeping.

In other words, he worries a lot.

If he were in a normal relationship he would probably worry about normal things. For example: whether Spencer was misreading the situation, whether it was okay to run a thorough background check on them, and what to wear on a date. What would their first argument be about? What would their parents think of him? What would his mom think of them?

About thirty-six hours after they met, Sam saved Spencer’s mom from a wraith; first impressions don’t get much better than that.

The normal worries were rapidly eclipsed by Sam-specific worries. For example: what if he got cursed, what if he got possessed, and were there angels or demons after him this week. Why couldn’t Dean either drive a little slower or get a car with less antiquated safety features? How would Spencer help if Sam got hurt on the job? Should he tell the B.A.U. what he’s been learning about the supernatural?

He does end up telling them everything; Sam and Dean show up at a crime scene, Hotch almost arrests them, and it turns out that one of the serial killers they’ve been hunting for a decade is actually a skinwalker.

But the point is that when Spencer sees blood on the floor, he isn’t surprised. He’s visualized this scenario — and several hundred variations on it — before.

* * *

He hears a raised voice in the library and takes the steps two at a time. There are two complete strangers there, a blonde woman aiming a gun at a man, and Spencer’s training kicks in before he can figure out why she looks familiar.

“Federal agent, hands in the air,” he barks.

He can see the split-second when the woman thinks about turning her gun on him, but she seems to think better of it, and she sets the gun down slowly before putting her hands in the air.

“Who are you?” the man demands. “What did you do with Sam?”

“What — Sam?” Spencer asks, panic rising in his throat. “Spencer Reid, FBI. Who —”

“You’re Spencer?” he asks, brow furrowed.

Spencer realizes: “You’re Castiel.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, gun down,” Dean interrupts. “It’s okay! She’s okay, Spence!”

“Dean? You’re alive?” Castiel grabs him before he can say anything else.

Spencer lowers his gun slowly. He’s starting to hyperventilate. He wants to know how Dean is still alive, yes, but he’s watching the way they embrace, the smile on Cas’s face and the way Dean’s shoulders seem to drop like he’s relaxing for the first time in a long time, and all he can think about is —

“Can somebody tell me where the hell Sam is?” Spencer asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

“He’s not here,” Castiel says.

The woman looks between Cas and Spencer, eyes wide, and it’s not clear who she’s talking to when she asks, “Who are you?”

“He’s my —” Dean starts.

Cas cuts him off by saying, “He’s Sam’s —” at the same time Spencer blurts out, “He’s an angel.”

“Come again?” the woman asks, and when she sees the way Dean shifts nervously, she adds, “Not that, I don’t care about — you said angel?”

“Angel. You know. Wings, harp.”

“Not actually,” Spencer tells her, just as Cas scowls and says, “No, I don’t have a harp.”

“Cas, Spencer,” Dean says, and he pauses, swallowing hard. “This is Mary. Mary Winchester.”

Spencer and Cas speak in unison again, Cas in a gruff monotone as Spencer’s voice goes squeaky: “Your mother?”

Of all the things Spencer has worried about, he never thought he would never have to worry about making a bad first impression on Sam’s parents. Sam’s parents are dead.

Except… apparently not. Apparently Sam’s mom has been resurrected, and Spencer just pulled a gun on her.

“Nice to meet you,” Mary says softly, with a tentative smile.

For a second he freezes, staring at her, and his mind starts racing, recalculating, replanning, getting his worrying done after the fact, and Spencer has no idea what to say. He never made a plan for this.

“Nice to meet you,” he responds, flushing. “Um. Sorry about that.”

“I’d have done the same thing if I were you.” She smiles, and she doesn’t look much like Sam, but the kindness in her eyes is so very familiar. Spencer’s breath catches.

“She’s not kidding, shoulda seen the way she pinned me when I tried to introduce myself,” Dean grumbles. Then he turns to Castiel and says, “Tell me what happened to Sam.”

As Castiel starts to explain the details, Spencer calls Penelope.

“FBI, office of the brilliant but under-caffeinated,” she says, slightly less chirpy than he’s used to, and Spencer realizes how early it is. Oops.

“It’s me.”

“Oh! Boy genius! They did it, huh? Hotch called us back in, like, as soon as the sun came back on, because apparently criminals don’t stop just because the world is ending, or whatever, but he wanted to give you a day at least — hey, are you okay? How’s that handsome lumberjack of yours?”

“Sam’s missing,” Spencer says without preamble. “I need your help.”

It takes Penelope approximately a minute to find the car and identify the driver, but the identity of his passenger is a little more elusive. She types away, keys clattering ceaselessly in the background, as Spencer yawns.

“Got it! Okay, I have a cell number. If you call her, I can track it. You ready?”

“Dean, give me your phone?” Spencer asks, holding out a hand. “You stay on the line with Penelope. She can tell you as soon as she gets the address.”

“I can make the call,” Dean says. “I want to have a word with this bitch.”

“Dean,” Spencer snaps. “First of all, I’m the only person here who’s trained in hostage negotiation. Finding people is literally in my job description.”

“This isn’t a fuckin’ bank holdup, this is my brother,” Dean retorts. “It’s my job to take care of him.”

“If you call her a bitch and start in on your threatening macho bullshit, she’s going to hang up, or worse, she’s going to believe you, and then she’ll be trying to get you before you can get to Sam. I know how to talk to people like this. If I can convince her I’m scared, that I’m not a real threat, she might give something away.”

“But —”

“Secondly, the only people who know you’re alive are in this room right now, which means you’re our best chance to take her by surprise when we get there, so shut up and let me do my job.”

“You really think you can find him,” Dean says, and it’s not a question. He holds out his phone with a look of begrudging respect.

“Yes.”

Spencer thinks, I have to.

* * *

People aren’t all the same, but if you could quantify the concept of normal, if you could look at it statistically, most people would fall within the standard deviation. Most of their lives take an even, predictable shape, Spencer thinks. There are plenty of other people like them, and they seem to fit with each other, too, interlocking in an easy way that Spencer has always envied.

Spencer’s got all these awkward uneven edges and strange angles. He’s not normal, and he’s always known that.

For a long time, he doesn’t think he’ll ever find someone who’ll fit easily, not without changing him, trying to reshape him in some way. He doesn’t want to change, but he gets lonely. Most people (friends, let alone lovers) don’t last long before they get sick of his quirks. Some try longer than others, but one way or another, there’s always some jarring part of him that doesn’t match what they want.

What if they like to sleep with the windows open, even in the winter? Or if they sleep with the air conditioning cranked up in the summer? Spencer knows he should be better about compromising on little things like that, but he really prefers things a certain way. He knows it’s neurotic. He can’t help it.

Spencer is used to people staring blankly when he starts talking, but at what point will it drive someone away? When will they stop pretending to care about his Doctor Who opinions? When will they get bored of his info-dumping?

And then there are the really difficult questions. How does he tell someone he used to be an addict? What if he doesn’t want to tell them about being kidnapped and tortured? What if he does, and then they start asking questions? How does he explain his PTSD, or his nightmares, or his bedtime routine of triple-checking every lock and setting his gun within arm’s reach?

At first, when he met Sam, Spencer worried about arguments and parents and all the other normal things, but more importantly, he worried about himself. He wondered which of his irregularities would finally make Sam give up on his attempts to fit Spencer into his life.

Neither of them sleep much, but when they do end up sharing a bed, Sam has his own routine; while Spencer checks the locks, Sam draws warding symbols, lines each window and door with salt, and sets his gun within reach. He likes the windows closed and the thermostat above 68, because, he explains simply, “Lucifer runs cold.”

Speaking of Lucifer. Sam understands addiction, kidnapping, torture, PTSD, and nightmares, and he doesn’t ask Spencer to tell his stories before he’s ready. Sam has stories of his own.

Sam also has his own Doctor Who opinions, and those opinions were the cause of their very first argument. Sam is wrong, but Spencer loves that he cares enough to argue.

The first time Spencer started rambling about serial killers, he noticed Sam frowning and cut himself off, embarrassed, ready to apologize. Sam just pulled out a journal and asked him to repeat what he’d said, so that Sam could do more research on the subject later.

Sam doesn’t expect him to change. He doesn’t try to re-shape Spencer. His life is just as weird, and by all logic they shouldn’t fit, but they do. And Spencer doesn’t feel any less himself, but suddenly he realizes that he must’ve changed along the way, because he can’t imagine his life without Sam any more; if they can’t find him, his absence is going to tear Spencer apart.

* * *

It’s a tense car ride, to say the least.

Hell of a first impression, Spencer thinks again, glancing at Mary’s pale, worried face in the rearview.

Castiel and Mary are in the backseat, and they’re trying to make small talk, but Castiel seems to be about as good as Spencer at the whole “casual conversation” thing. Sam’s told him so much about Castiel, Spencer feels like he knows him, but they’ve never actually crossed paths before.

And then there’s Dean, who’s got his jaw clenched, staring straight ahead. Spencer gives him directions, and he grunts or nods, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Dean intimidates the hell out of him, but they’ve always gotten along fine, maybe because Spencer’s never yelled at him before. He’s very aware that arguing with Dean Winchester is usually fruitless at best (and deadly at worst), but he’s never been good at holding his tongue when he’s upset.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer manages to mutter eventually.

“Huh?” Dean looks at him, frowning.

“About earlier. I didn’t mean to — um.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean says gruffly.

“I was upset. I’m sorry.”

Dean shrugs, and he hesitates before adding, “You were right.” He looks as surprised to be saying it as Spencer is to hear it.

Spencer blinks at him a couple times before hurriedly saying, “Turn left. There.”

Cas and Mary are having a quiet conversation about the weirdness of technology, and Spencer is about to join them when Dean speaks up again.

“Garcia — she said something funny.”

“Uh oh.”

Dean snorts. “Nah, not like that. Before she hung up, she told me not to worry. Said of everybody she knows, Sam probably has the second-best odds of escaping any poor sap who tries to abduct him.”

“Second best?”

“That’s what I said. But apparently that title belongs to you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. All I can do is talk myself out, he’s stronger.” Spencer gives him a crooked attempt at a smile; it feels awkward on his face, but he means it when he says, “He’ll be okay.”

* * *

The funny thing is, Spencer has been in this situation before.

When it was Maeve, though, he panicked, because all he could think about was how she must feel: scared, helpless. Spencer has too much empathy sometimes. Imagining Maeve’s helplessness made him feel like he was drowning.

This is different. He’s not exactly zen about the whole situation, of course; it feels like a piece of him is missing, but he’s clear-headed, because he knows that Sam is anything but helpless. He trusts Sam to take care of himself.

Aside from the supernatural element, Sam’s job is astoundingly similar to Spencer’s, and he’s astoundingly good at it. The Winchesters have consulted on a couple cases, now, for the B.A.U. (Spencer’s still not sure how Hotch manages the paperwork) and they try to find cases in the same general area as wherever Spencer winds up, so they’ve gotten to work together a few times. Sam’s sheer competence at his job might be the most attractive thing Spencer has ever seen.

Spencer used to imagine a quiet, mundane romance. He always just assumed he’d find someone whose life was more normal than his, and he was resigned to the stress it would cause in a relationship. He’d forget to call, he’d miss dinner, he’d have to cancel plans and be absent from so much of what constituted a normal domestic life, and his partner would be left at home, alone, all too aware of how much danger Spencer could be in, helpless to do anything about it.

Instead, Spencer found Sam. Spencer never has to feel guilty about missing dinner, because Sam isn’t at home worrying about him. Sam is out there saving the world.

Sam is not going to wait for Spencer to rescue him; he might not even need rescuing, at this point. Instead of worrying about what Sam is doing and whether he’s scared, Spencer can focus on his own plan.

* * *

He and Dean circle slowly around the house. They spot the entrance to the basement, and Dean almost runs right to it, but Spencer grabs his arm and points to the sigils around the door.

Spencer notices movement through a window next to the back door, and when they creep up to get a glimpse inside, he sees two women. One is the blonde — the brains of the operation — and the other is stockier, clearly the muscle.

After a quick conversation in whispers and gestures, Dean sneaks around to the side of the house opposite the basement, and a second later Spencer hears him shout. He waits a couple seconds and glances in the window again, and sure enough, the bigger woman is gone while the blonde is watching something on a computer monitor, looking agitated. Security cameras, maybe.

Spencer is about to go inside when he sees the blonde start, look around, and grab a cattle prod. Then she’s hurrying toward a door, sliding back a heavy deadbolt, and Spencer sees a dark stairwell that must lead to the basement.

He slips through the door and follows her.

For a split-second, the scene in the basement almost stops his heart. Sam is lying on the floor, completely still, his head surrounded by a puddle of blood.

But before Spencer can really process what he’s seeing, let alone react, Sam is in motion: lashing out, grabbing her by the throat, shoving her against the wall. Spencer descends the stairs quietly with his gun at the ready, trying not to make any noise that might distract Sam right now.

Sam doesn’t need his help. There’s blood on his damp clothes and his arms are shaking as the blonde goes limp in his grip, but he’s alive; he doesn’t need Spencer’s help, and Spencer isn’t the slightest bit surprised.

When Sam turns and sees him, he doesn’t look surprised either. He just smiles, all dimples and sparkling eyes in spite of his obvious pain as he limps over.

“Sorry that took me so long,” Spencer says casually, trying to control his grin. He doesn’t want to holster his gun yet, so he keeps it trained on the woman and hugs Sam one-armed.

Sam wraps his arms around Spencer, holding on tight. Spencer rests his forehead on Sam’s shoulder, taking a second to breathe as he feels missing pieces sliding neatly into place.

“Love you,” Sam says, and the words sound like a sigh of relief. He pulls back, and he looks surprised, like he didn’t actually mean to say that out loud.

Spencer’s about to reply when he sees the woman struggling to her feet, reaching for her cattle prod, and so instead he says, “Look out.”

Sam steps sideways to give him a clear shot. Spencer shoots her in the thigh and she screams as she falls to the floor.

“See how you like it,” Sam tells her, with a vicious little smile.

“I love you too,” Spencer blurts out.

For a second they both pause, grinning at each other like idiots, their surroundings forgotten.

Then there’s a sound from overhead, and Sam asks hurriedly, “The other one. Did you take her out already?”

“Dean’s got her,” Spencer tells him. “We should check on him, then we can come back down and deal with — Sam?”

At first he can’t figure out why Sam’s mouth drops open like that, shocked and disbelieving. Then he remembers.

“Dean’s alive?” Sam asks, a smile spreading slowly over his face. Spencer nods, wrapping an arm around Sam’s ribs, supporting him as he limps gingerly toward the stairs. It feels like he’s forgetting something.

There’s another noise, and then Mary is in the doorway, looking down at them.

Oh.

Sam turns to Spencer silently, like he’s waiting for confirmation that she’s real.

Spencer nods. “Yeah. So — um. Surprise?”

Sam doesn’t actually seem all that surprised, because… of course he doesn’t. He blinks at Spencer a couple times and then he grins.

“You met my mom before I did,” Sam says, breathless and amused, and grabs the banister to haul himself up the stairs. Spencer laughs and follows him, smiling to himself.

It’s not your average “meet the parents” scene, but somehow, it fits Sam and Spencer perfectly.

Nothing about their love story has been normal. Why start now?

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #supernatural #sam winchester x spencer reid #spencer reid fic #sam winchester fic

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