#ITS BREAKING MY HEART IT HURTS SOOO BAD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

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Lost & Found

Summary: You suffer memory loss after an accident, only remembering your sister, Emily, and not your boyfriend, Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: car accident, depressive thoughts, fighting, crying, memory loss, struggling with memory loss, showering together, suggestive content (16+), use of Y/N

Word count: 19.6k

a/n: this reminds me of the vow lol my bad but i already wrote it sooo

main masterlist

The sun had just begun to rise over Washington, D.C., casting long shadows across the bustling streets. You were driving to work, your thoughts on the day ahead, when the unthinkable happened. Out of nowhere, a semi-truck barreled down the road, its brakes screaming in protest, unable to halt its deadly path. There was no time to react. The world slowed as the massive vehicle collided with the driver’s side of your car, the sound of metal crunching filling the air like a thunderclap.

—

Spencer Reid sat in a sterile conference room, surrounded by maps and case files in a small town in Missouri. He was miles away from home, yet his mind kept drifting back to you. It had been a little over two years since you and Spencer began dating, and in that time, he had come to rely on your comforting presence. Even though he was away, the two of you made it a point to call each other whenever possible, exchanging stories about your days and sharing a few jokes. Today, he hadn’t heard from you yet, and a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind.

The shrill ring of his phone jolted Spencer out of his thoughts. Hotch was in mid-sentence when Spencer abruptly stood up, excusing himself from the meeting as he glanced down at the caller ID and recognized your best friend’s name.

“Hey, Spencer! Sorry for calling so early, I just wanted to ask if you knew what Y/N would like for her birthday dinner!” they chirped, their voice a bit muffled from what sounded like some activity in the background. “She’s so picky, you know! Maybe we could make a surprise for her?”

“I...I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her yet today,” Spencer admitted, his voice nearly shaking. “But she loves Italian food, maybe pasta?”

“Oh, of course! I’ll start with that, then. Thanks, Spencer!” they replied before hanging up, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

The call left Spencer feeling hollow, a growing sense of dread gnawing at him. He sank back into his chair, his mind reeling. Moments later, his phone rang again, and he picked it up without even glancing at the screen. This time, the voice on the other end was urgent and frantic, and Spencer’s heart sank as he listened.

"Hello?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the room was still buzzing around him.

“Spencer Reid?” a calm, authoritative voice inquired on the other end.

“Yes, this is he,” Spencer replied, straightening up slightly as he recognized the tone of someone delivering important information.

“This is St. Agnes Hospital in Washington, D.C.," the voice continued. "I’m calling about Y/N L/N.”

Spencer's heart skipped a beat. The mention of your name brought everything else to a halt, and he felt a wave of apprehension wash over him.

“She has been in an accident,” the voice said, and Spencer could hear the weight behind those words. “You are listed as her emergency contact, how soon can you get here?”

He froze, unable to process the words as they echoed in his mind. ��An accident?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happened?"

“There was a collision with a semi-truck,” the hospital staffer explained, their voice professional yet tinged with compassion. “Y/N was seriously injured. She’s currently in surgery, but it’s critical.”

Spencer's mind raced, each word like a punch to his gut. “Is she—” he started, his voice breaking. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We’re doing everything we can, Dr. Reid,” the worker reassured him gently. “But you should get here as soon as you can.”

He nodded, though the person on the other end couldn't see him, trying to gather his thoughts through the haze of shock. The room around him felt surreal, the voices of his colleagues fading into the background.

“Thank you,” Spencer managed to say, his voice shaky with barely restrained panic. “I’m on my way from Missouri, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As he ended the call, Spencer abruptly returned, shoes pounding against the floor. His teammates noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, their conversations pausing as they turned to him with concern.

“Spencer?” Emily asked, noticing the ashen look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice tight with urgency. “There’s been an accident. I need to get home.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his things, already planning his route to the nearest airport in his head. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the urgency to be by your side, to hold your hand, to be there when you needed him most.

“We’ll cover things here,” Hotch assured him, stepping forward. “Go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied, his voice holding gratitude and desperation. He turned to leave, his thoughts solely focused on getting back to you, hoping with every fiber of his being that he wouldn’t be too late.

—

Spencer couldn’t remember the flight home. The moments blurred together as his mind replayed the words over and over: life support, coma, severe accident. They echoed in his head, refusing to let him think of anything else. His team had rallied around him, offering words of support and handling the details to get him back as quickly as possible.

As the plane touched down in Washington, Spencer felt the full weight of the situation crashing down on him. His legs trembled as he stood, a numbness spreading through his body as he made his way through the terminal.

The hospital was a short drive away, and yet it felt like an eternity. He barely registered the buildings and streets flashing by as he sat in the back seat of a cab, his heart pounding with each passing moment.

Finally, he arrived at the hospital, a large, imposing building that now seemed more like a fortress. Spencer rushed through the doors, barely acknowledging the bustling activity around him as he focused solely on reaching you. He navigated the maze of hallways with a determination that surprised even him, eventually finding his way to the ICU.

Your room was sterile and filled with the rhythmic beeping of machines, each sound a stark reminder of your fragile condition. Spencer stopped short at the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking across your body. His heart wrenched at the sight, a profound ache settling in his chest as he slowly approached.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

He took a shaky breath, feeling the enormity of the situation press down on him. He felt helpless, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with the assistance of the ventilator, knowing there was nothing he could do to change what had happened.

Spencer reached out, his hand trembling as he gently took yours. The warmth of your skin was a small comfort, a reminder that you were still there, still fighting.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Please, Y/N... please come back to me.”

The room was silent except for the steady hum of the machines, and Spencer felt a tear slide down his cheek. He brushed it away, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

—

The hours that followed were a blur. Spencer sat by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he kept a silent vigil. The nurses and doctors came and went, their words and actions a distant murmur as Spencer focused solely on you. He remembered snippets of conversations, assurances that you were receiving the best care possible, and updates on your condition that offered little comfort.

In those moments, Spencer clung to hope. He recalled all the times you had smiled at him, the way your eyes lit up when you were excited or passionate about something. He remembered the quiet moments you shared, the laughter and love that had blossomed between you over the past years.

—

Three Days Later

Spencer hadn’t left the hospital since he arrived. The team had been by his side, offering support and keeping him company, but he barely registered their presence. All that mattered was you, and the hope that you would wake up and return to him.

On the third day, the doctor came in with a more hopeful expression than before. He checked the monitors, made some notes, and then turned to Spencer with a small smile.

“There’s been some improvement,” he said gently. “It’s a good sign. We’re going to try reducing the sedation and see how she responds.”

Spencer felt a flicker of hope at the words, his heart clenching with a mix of anticipation and fear. He nodded, unable to trust his voice as he watched the doctor adjust the IV line. They assured him they would keep him informed as soon as your surgery was complete and directed him to the waiting area, where he could collect himself while waiting for more information.

Spencer made his way to the waiting room, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Memories of you together flooded his mind: the quiet evenings spent curled up on the couch, the laughter shared over inside jokes, and the whispered promises of a future together. He sat down, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, wondering what the next few hours would bring.

—

The hours stretched on interminably, each tick of the clock echoing loudly in Spencer's ears as he waited in the sterile waiting room. He couldn't bring himself to focus on anything other than the thought of you, lying in surgery, fighting for your life. The antiseptic smell of the hospital, the murmur of other patients and visitors, all faded into the background as he replayed every memory he had of you in his mind, trying to cling to the hope that you would pull through.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached Spencer with a solemn expression. "Dr. Reid?" the doctor asked, and Spencer quickly stood, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes, that's me," Spencer replied, his voice fullof hope and anxiety.

"The surgery was successful," the doctor said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "We were able to stabilize her, and she's currently in the ICU under observation."

Spencer felt a rush of relief wash over him, though the gravity of the situation was still heavy on his shoulders. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you so much."

The doctor nodded, understanding the depth of Spencer's gratitude. "She's not out of the woods yet," the doctor continued, "but she's made it through the worst part. However, I need to prepare you for the possibility that there may be complications. We won't know the full extent until she regains consciousness."

Spencer nodded, taking in the doctor's words with a mix of relief and apprehension. He felt his breath catch in his throat, knowing that there was still a long road ahead, but grateful for the chance to be by your side as you began to recover.

—

You pulled through, but it wasn't without its challenges. When you finally awoke, the room was filled with the soft beeping of monitors and the faint hum of medical equipment. Everything felt disorienting as you blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to make sense of where you were and what had happened.

Spencer was at your side, his eyes filled with relief and worry as he watched you stir. He reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You're awake."

You turned your head slightly, trying to focus on the man before you. He looked somewhat familiar, yet your mind struggled to place him. The last thing you remembered was being 18, living with your sister Emily, and yet here you were, in a hospital bed, with a stranger by your side.

"Who are you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Spencer felt his heart drop at your words, a painful realization settling in. He had hoped that when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, that you would go back to the life you had built together. But the look of confusion and fear in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm Spencer," he said gently, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'm your boyfriend. We've been together for over two years. You live with me."

You shook your head slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his words. It felt like a dream, a reality you couldn't quite grasp. "No," you said, your voice breaking with frustration and fear. "I live with my sister, Emily. I don't know you."

Spencer felt a wave of sadness wash over him, but he forced himself to stay strong for you. He knew this was a possibility, that the trauma of the accident could have affected your memory, but hearing it from you was a different reality altogether. He took a deep breath, his heart aching with every word he prepared to say.

“Um, no. I—I don’t know how to tell you this, but, uh…” Spencer tried to speak through the tears coming on, his voice trembling. “You are 25 years old, Emily is 38, and you work as a liaison for the Sex Crimes Unit in the FBI. Emily and I work together in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We met through Emily, and now you live with me. You were in a severe car accident three days ago, and you may be suffering from amnesia.”

His words hung in the air like a cloud, heavy and dense, as you struggled to process what he was telling you. The hospital room felt colder, the sterile smell more pronounced, as your mind tried to catch up with the information being presented to you. Everything he said felt distant and unfamiliar, like a story someone else was telling, not your own life.

“Amnesia?” you repeated, the word foreign on your tongue. You could feel panic beginning to rise in your chest, the fear of the unknown pressing down on you. “How is this possible? I—I don’t remember any of this.”

Spencer’s heart broke at the fear in your eyes, and he longed to reach out and comfort you. But he knew that, to you, he was a stranger, someone who claimed to know you but didn’t feel real. He had to tread carefully, to give you space to process the situation at your own pace.

“It’s okay,” Spencer said softly, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know this is a lot to take in. You’ve been through so much, and I’m here for you. We can take this one step at a time. Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”

You looked at him, studying his face for any sign of deception or recognition, but all you saw was sincerity. It was both comforting and unsettling. Here was a man who seemed to care deeply for you, yet you couldn’t find a single memory to support his claims. It was like standing at the edge of a vast, unknown ocean, unsure whether to step forward or retreat.

“I just... I don’t understand how I got here,” you said, your voice small and uncertain, the edges of panic sharpening your words. Your eyes filled with tears as you grappled with the enormity of your situation. “Where’s Emily? I want to see Emily,” you added, the tears now spilling over, and you could feel your chest tighten with fear and helplessness.

Spencer felt a painful twist in his heart as he watched you cry, the sight of your distress cutting through him like a knife. He knew how much you relied on Emily before, but he had been your rock these past years. To not be able to comfort you in your time of need tore him apart. Despite the situation, he felt a glimmer of relief that you still remembered your sister, a familiar anchor in a sea of unfamiliar faces and places.

“She’s at home sleeping. I’ll give her a call,” Spencer assured you, reaching for his phone with a steady hand, though inside he felt anything but calm. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay, but he understood that right now, Emily was the person you needed most.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You wiped at your tears, feeling both grateful and overwhelmed by the kindness of this man who seemed so determined to help you, even though you couldn’t remember him.

Spencer stepped out into the hallway to make the call, wanting to give you a moment of privacy. The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the distant murmur of medical staff and the occasional beep of machinery. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before dialing Emily’s number.

“Spencer?” Emily’s voice was groggy but instantly alert as she answered the call, concern evident in her tone. “Is everything okay? How’s Y/N?”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Emily, she’s awake,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “But she doesn’t remember anything from the past seven years. She thinks she’s still living with you.”

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed, the shock clear in her voice. “Is she okay? What did the doctors say?”

“They think it’s retrograde amnesia caused by the trauma of the accident,” Spencer explained, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. “She’s asking for you, Emily. She’s really scared.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Emily promised, already moving to get dressed. “Tell her I’m on my way, okay? And Spencer... thank you for being there with her. I know this must be incredibly hard for you.”

Spencer nodded, even though Emily couldn’t see him. “I’ll tell her. Drive safely.”

After ending the call, Spencer returned to your room, his heart heavy with the knowledge of how disorienting this must be for you. He found you sitting up slightly, your eyes still red from crying but showing a flicker of hope at the mention of your sister.

“Emily’s on her way,” Spencer said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “She should be here soon.”

You nodded, the knowledge that Emily was coming bringing you a semblance of comfort. But still, questions swirled in your mind, the uncertainty of your situation looming large.

"Thank you, um, what was your name again?" you asked softly, your voice hesitant and tinged with the confusion that clouded your mind.

Spencer’s heart ached at the question, a painful reminder of the gap that now existed between you. But he managed a gentle smile, determined to be patient and understanding.

“Spencer,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze with a steady warmth. “My name is Spencer.”

You nodded slowly, trying to commit his name to memory, even though it felt like grasping at straws. There was something comforting about the way he looked at you, a sense of safety that you couldn’t quite explain.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you repeated, hoping that saying his name would help anchor you in this unfamiliar reality. Despite the overwhelming uncertainty, you felt a small sense of reassurance knowing he was there, a steady presence in the storm of your fractured memories.

—

Emily arrived at the hospital within the hour, her eyes filled with concern and determination as she made her way to your room. When she saw you, relief flooded her features, and she rushed to your side, wrapping her arms around you in a warm, reassuring embrace.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily murmured, holding you tightly as she stroked your hair. “I’m here, Y/N. We’ll figure this out together.”

You clung to her, the familiar comfort of her presence grounding you in the midst of the chaos. For the first time since waking up, you felt a sense of safety, a reminder of the life you remembered.

Spencer watched the reunion, his heart aching with a mixture of emotions. He was grateful that Emily was there for you, knowing how much you needed her support right now. But there was also a longing, a deep-seated hope that one day, you would remember the life you had built with him, the love that had grown between you.

As you leaned into Emily's embrace, you whispered, “Can you stay with me, please?” Your voice was soft, almost childlike in its vulnerability, and Spencer’s heart clenched at the sound of it.

Emily smiled gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as she nodded. “Of course, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” she said, guilt tinging her words. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “Peter is really nice.”

The misstep in Spencer's name hit him like a physical blow, and yet he understood. You were trying your best to piece things together, to make sense of the world around you, and that meant trying to fit him into a picture that didn’t quite match the reality you remembered.

Emily glanced at Spencer, a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she gave him a supportive nod. She knew how hard this must be for him, watching you struggle to recall the love and life you shared.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to return Emily’s nod with a small, grateful smile. He knew that rebuilding the bridge to your past wouldn’t be easy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to help you find your way back.

He remained quiet, a gentle presence in the background as Emily continued to comfort you, knowing that while he might not be the one you remembered now, he would do everything in his power to be the one you’d remember in the future.

—

Spencer eventually went home, the weight of the last few days pressing heavily on his shoulders. The hospital had become a second home in the wake of the accident, but now, as he drove through the familiar streets of Quantico, he felt the exhaustion finally catch up with him.

The apartment was quiet when he arrived, the silence amplifying the absence of your presence. He dropped his bag by the door and stood in the entryway for a moment, looking around the space that had been your shared sanctuary. Everything about it—the framed photos, the little touches that marked your shared life—felt like an echo of the past he was desperate to help you remember.

He made his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and fatigue, but doing little to ease the turmoil inside. As the steam filled the room, Spencer closed his eyes, allowing the water to drown out the noise in his head for just a moment.

He thought about you, lying in that hospital bed, trying to piece together a life you couldn’t remember. The thought of your struggle weighed heavily on him, and he wished more than anything that he could simply take away the burden of your amnesia. But he knew that wasn’t possible, and it frustrated him deeply.

Stepping out of the shower, Spencer wrapped a towel around his waist and caught his reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at him was etched with worry and sleepless nights. He knew he needed to rest, to recharge so he could be strong for you, but his mind was already racing with possibilities, with ways to help you find your way back to the life you had known.

Reluctantly, he made his way to the bedroom and sank into the mattress, pulling the covers over himself.

—

When Spencer awoke, the morning light was filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. He stretched, feeling the knots in his muscles protest at the movement, but he pushed through, determined to make the most of the day ahead.

His mind immediately returned to you and the questions that had haunted him since the accident. He needed answers, a plan, something tangible he could use to help you. Rising from the bed, he quickly dressed and made his way to the library, his thoughts already churning with possibilities.

The library was quiet, a haven of knowledge waiting to be tapped into. Spencer made his way through the aisles, pulling books from the shelves with practiced ease. He found volumes on neurology, psychology, and memory restoration, stacking them on the table as he prepared to dive deep into his research.

Sitting down, Spencer opened the first book, his fingers flipping through the pages with the kind of fervor only a man on a mission possessed. He absorbed every word, every study and theory on amnesia and retrograde amnesia, searching for anything that might provide a glimmer of hope.

He read about the mechanisms of memory, the ways trauma could affect the brain's ability to store and retrieve information. He learned about the potential for memory recovery, the techniques that could aid in jogging the mind back to the present, and the importance of emotional connections in bridging the gaps.

As the hours passed, Spencer lost himself in the sea of information, each new piece of knowledge building upon the last. He scribbled notes in the margins, cross-referencing studies and compiling a mental list of strategies he could employ to help you.

It was a daunting task, but Spencer felt a sense of purpose in the research, a way to channel his love for you into something tangible. He was determined to do everything he could to help you regain your memory, to guide you back to the life you had shared together.

For Spencer, this was more than just a quest for answers—it was a testament to the bond that had grown between you, a bond he was unwilling to let go of. He was ready to fight for your future, to be there for you in whatever capacity you needed, until the day your eyes lit up with recognition and the memories flooded back.

With renewed resolve, Spencer closed the book he was reading, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He gathered his notes, feeling a sense of determination settle over him. He would be there for you, no matter how long it took, until you found your way back to him.

—

Spencer called Emily, feeling a slight tremor in his fingers as he punched in her number. He knew how delicate your situation was, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting you with his presence if it would cause more harm than good. As the phone rang, he took a deep breath, hoping that Emily would have some insight into how you were doing and whether it would be okay for him to visit.

“Hello?” Emily’s voice came through the line, sounding calm but tinged with exhaustion.

“Emily, it’s Spencer,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the nervousness fluttering in his chest. “I wanted to check in and see how Y/N is doing... and if it would be alright for me to come back to the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her, but I think I might have found some helpful information on memory restoration tactics.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and Spencer could hear the soft murmur of the hospital in the background, the distant beeps of monitors and the hushed conversations of medical staff. Emily sighed softly, and he could picture her leaning against the wall outside your room, her hand running through her hair as she considered his request.

“Spencer, she’s been asking about you,” Emily finally said, her voice gentle and reassuring. “I think she wants to start trying to piece things together a little, and having you here might actually help.”

The fragments of your past felt like pieces of a puzzle scattered across the table, and you were trying to fit them together. The memory of just having graduated college and moving in with Emily in Europe while she worked for Interpol was clear in your mind, yet the reality you were living in contradicted that memory in every way. You obviously went to college, got an important job, met someone, and fell in love. That would be nice to remember.

The thought of your life now—a life filled with achievements, meaningful relationships, and moments of joy—was enticing. You felt a sense of longing to reconnect with those parts of yourself, to remember the paths that led you to where you were today. The idea of having accomplished so much, of having people in your life who cared deeply for you, filled you with both curiosity and determination.

You sat in the hospital bed, the beeping of the monitors a constant reminder of the present, and tried to reconcile the gap between what you knew and what was real. There was a sense of urgency within you, a desire to reclaim the life that had slipped through your fingers due to the accident.

As you contemplated this, Spencer arrived, a reassuring presence amidst the confusion. He had a folder in hand, filled with information he’d painstakingly gathered to aid in your recovery. His expression was one of quiet resolve, a testament to his commitment to helping you find your way back.

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer greeted softly, taking a seat beside your bed. His eyes were warm and encouraging, and you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his presence. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve found some information that might help you remember.”

You nodded, eager to hear what he had discovered. The prospect of understanding more about your life, your achievements, and the connection you shared with Spencer filled you with hope.

Spencer opened the folder, revealing a collection of notes, articles, and studies on memory restoration and retrograde amnesia. “I’ve been looking into different techniques and therapies that could aid in restoring your memories,” he explained, his voice steady and full of purpose.

He began to outline the various strategies he had found, discussing everything from cognitive therapy and memory exercises to more experimental approaches. As he spoke, you listened intently, absorbing the possibilities and feeling a flicker of determination ignite within you.

“I believe that with the right approach and support, we can hopefully help you piece together your memories,” Spencer said, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “I’m here to support you in whatever way you need. We can do this together, one step at a time.”

His words resonated with you, and you found yourself nodding along, feeling a renewed sense of hope. The idea of reclaiming your memories, of rediscovering the life you had built, felt like a light at the end of a long tunnel.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “I want to remember.”

—

The hospital released you into Emily’s care. While the medical staff had done everything they could, the journey to regaining your memory would continue outside the hospital walls.

The decision to stay with Emily instead of Spencer hurt him, but it felt like the right choice for now. As much as Spencer wanted to be there for you, he understood the need for you to be in an environment that felt familiar and safe. The last thing he wanted was to push you further away by overwhelming you with too much, too soon.

“It’s okay,” Spencer assured you as you prepared to leave the hospital. His voice was steady, but the flicker of pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “I understand. Emily will take good care of you, and I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. A part of you felt guilty for not choosing to stay with him, especially considering how kind and supportive he had been. But the gaps in your memory left you feeling adrift, and being with Emily was like holding onto a piece of your past that still made sense. Besides, he was still technically a stranger.

—

The drive to yours and Spencer’s apartment was quiet, Emily navigating the streets with the ease of someone who knew them well. You sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by, anticipation and apprehension swirling within you. This was a chance to see the life you had built, to find clues that might help bridge the chasm between the past you remembered and the present you couldn’t grasp.

Arriving at the apartment building, you felt a sense of déjà vu, as if you had been here countless times before, but it was all shrouded in fog. Emily led you up to the front door, her presence reassuring and calm as she unlocked it and gestured for you to step inside.

The apartment was warm and inviting, filled with little touches that spoke of a life shared between two people. You took a tentative step inside, your eyes scanning the space as you tried to grasp any spark of recognition. The furniture, the décor, the scent of your favorite candle burning on the coffee table—everything felt just out of reach.

But it was the photographs that caught your attention, lining the walls and filling the shelves with captured moments of happiness and love. You walked over to a series of framed photos, your heart aching at the sight of the images. There you were, smiling and laughing with Spencer, your faces filled with joy.

There was a picture of the two of you on a hiking trip, arms around each other as you gazed at the camera, the sun setting behind you. Another of you dancing together at what appeared to be a wedding, Spencer’s hand on the small of your back, your face lit with laughter.

And then there was the one that brought tears to your eyes—an image of you and Spencer sharing a tender kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand gently holding your waist while the other stretched out to hold the camera. The love captured in that single moment was undeniable, and yet it was a memory you couldn’t access, a chapter of your life that felt painfully distant.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the weight of what you had lost settled over you. You turned away from the photos, covering your face with your hands as sobs wracked your body. The sadness was overwhelming, a deep, unbearable grief for the beautiful life you couldn’t remember.

Emily was at your side in an instant, her arm wrapping around you as she whispered soothing words, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had taken hold.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking with the depth of your sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I wish I could remember. I wish I could—”

Spencer’s expression was filled with compassion and understanding, though his heart ached at the sight of your distress. He longed to reach out and hold you, to reassure you that it was okay, that you would find your way back to him in time. But he knew that the memories were something you had to reclaim on your own.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer said gently, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

Despite his reassuring words, the pain of not being able to remember was too much to bear. You were inconsolable, and Emily could see that you needed space to process everything, away from the emotional overload of the apartment.

“Let’s go home, Y/N,” Emily suggested softly, guiding you toward the door with a gentle touch. “We can come back another time when you’re ready.”

You nodded, allowing her to lead you away, the tears still streaming down your face. Spencer watched as Emily escorted you out, his heart heavy with sadness.

—

The following Monday, the next step in your recovery journey was to visit your workplace, a place where you had spent countless hours building a career you could no longer remember. The decision to bring you back into the office was made with the hope that it might jog some of your lost memories, and while it felt daunting, you were determined to face it head-on.

Emily drove you to the FBI headquarters, the massive building both imposing and familiar as you approached. You had been nervous about this visit, unsure of how it would make you feel or what it might stir within you. Your unit chief had been extremely understanding about your situation, assuring you that you had all the time you needed to recover and that your job would be waiting for you if and when you were ready to return. The possibility of never coming back loomed large, but today was about exploring what felt right.

As you walked through the corridors, passing colleagues who greeted you with warm smiles and words of encouragement, you felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. The familiarity of the surroundings tugged at the edges of your mind, teasing you with whispers of recognition that were just out of reach.

When you finally reached your desk, something shifted within you. A small sense of familiarity washed over you, grounding you in a way that you hadn't expected. The space was uniquely yours, decorated with personal touches that reflected your personality and interests. The colorful keyboard and mouse pad, the photos adorning your workspace, all felt like pieces of yourself that you were slowly rediscovering.

Emily stood beside you, watching as you took it all in. Her presence was reassuring, a steady hand on your shoulder as you navigated the myriad of emotions swirling within you.

"This is your desk," Emily said gently, gesturing to the array of decorations and mementos that made it uniquely yours.

You ran your fingers over the keyboard, tracing the familiar keys, and then turned your attention to the photos. There were images of you and Emily from your first apartment together in D.C., snapshots of a time when life felt full of possibility and adventure. Your eyes lingered on the photos of you and Spencer, capturing moments of joy and love that you desperately wished to remember.

One photo, in particular, caught your eye. It was of you and another person, both of you with wide smiles, arms wrapped tightly around each other, faces pressed together in a display of friendship and affection. The bond between you was evident, even in a still image, and you felt a pang of longing to recall the memories associated with it.

“Who are all of these people?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of sadness.

Emily leaned in, pointing to the photo of you and the person who seemed to be a close friend. “That is your best friend, Noah,” she explained. Her smile was warm, the fondness for your friendship evident in her tone. “You two have been inseparable for years. They’ve been by your side through thick and thin.”

You studied the photo, trying to summon any fragment of memory, but the connection eluded you. Still, it was comforting to know that you had someone like Noah in your life, a constant presence of support and friendship.

Emily then pointed to another photo, this one featuring a large group of people gathered in a spacious kitchen that looked to be part of a grand mansion. The scene was lively and filled with laughter, the closeness between everyone palpable even in a photograph.

“And that,” Emily said, gesturing to the group photo, “is my team. The Behavioral Analysis Unit, at David Rossi’s house for pasta and wine. It’s a tradition of ours to get together and unwind after a long week. You’ve become a part of that tradition too.”

The photo brought a sense of warmth and belonging that tugged at your heartstrings. Though you couldn’t remember the specifics of the event, the image conveyed a sense of community and acceptance, a reminder that you were surrounded by people who cared for you deeply.

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—gratefulness for the connections you had forged, sadness for the memories that remained out of reach, and determination to piece it all together. As overwhelming as it was, the visit to your workplace had sparked something within you, a desire to reclaim the life you had lost and reconnect with the people who meant so much to you.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Emily,” you said softly, turning to your sister with gratitude in your eyes.

Emily smiled, her hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re doing great, Y/N.”

—

After spending some time familiarizing yourself with your desk and the environment, you felt a little more grounded. Emily suggested taking a break, and the two of you made your way to the break room for some coffee. The small talk and casual atmosphere provided a sense of normalcy, and you found yourself relaxing into the environment, even if it still felt like you were seeing it all for the first time.

As you sipped your coffee, Emily shared stories about the team, painting vivid pictures of the friendships that had developed over the years. Her words were filled with warmth, and you could sense the deep bond that connected everyone in the unit.

“–and then you and Penelope performed as much of the Rent musical as you could while Spencer took you home from girls' night.”

You laughed, a joyous feeling after all the sadness and confusion you’d been wearing like a cloud. It felt good to feel lighthearted again, if only for a moment, and the image of yourself belting out show tunes with Penelope at the top of your lungs was both hilarious and comforting.

“Was he mad?” you asked, picturing the scene in your mind.

“Quite the opposite,” Emily said, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the memory. “He asked you out the next week at work.”

“That’s so sweet,” you said, a warm glow spreading through you at the thought of Spencer’s patience and kindness.

“He really loves you,” Emily added, her voice gentle and full of sincerity.

You looked down at your coffee cup, a mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just can’t believe I’m loved so much by someone I don’t remember,” you said softly, your words carrying the weight of your current reality.

Spencer hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but as he was walking to the break room, your voice reached his ears, and he froze just outside the door. The sound of your laughter was like music to him, a familiar melody he had sorely missed since the accident. It felt normal to hear you in the building, like it had been before, a sense of déjà vu that was both comforting and bittersweet.

But hearing that last snippet of conversation—that you couldn’t believe you were loved by someone you didn’t remember—was like a punch to the gut. It was a reminder of how much had been lost, how fragile the threads of your connection had become in the wake of your amnesia.

Spencer’s heart clenched with longing and sadness. He wanted to be there with you, to share in the laughter and help rebuild the life you had once shared. Yet, he also knew that the path to healing was not a straight line and that you needed time to find your footing.

With a heavy heart, Spencer decided against going into the break room. He felt it would be too much to face you right then, knowing that he was part of the gap in your memory. He turned on his heel, heading back to his desk with a resolve to give you the space you needed while still being there for you in whatever way he could.

Back in his office, Spencer tried to focus on his work, but his mind kept drifting back to you and the conversation he had overheard. He wished he could do more, be more, to help you remember. The thought of the love you had shared, a love you now couldn’t recall, weighed heavily on him.

—

Over the next few weeks, life became a series of ups and downs, filled with moments of both clarity and confusion. Living with Emily had its comforting moments—her presence a soothing balm to the chaos in your mind. You cherished the time you spent with her, grateful for the bond that had been rekindled. You missed Emily deeply during high school, and living with her felt like a second chance to reconnect and make up for lost time.

But the reason for your reunion weighed heavily on you. You were so happy to be living with Emily again, until you remembered why. Some nights, the memories—or lack thereof—were overwhelming, and you’d find yourself crying silently into your pillow, grieving for the life you learned about but couldn’t recall. You mourned for the person you once were, the experiences you’d lost, and the love you had built with Spencer, a man who was now a stranger in your life.

In those darker moments, a part of you wondered if a second accident could somehow reverse the damage, though you knew deep down that it wouldn’t work. The thought was fleeting, a desperate whisper in your mind, quickly silenced by the knowledge that the path to healing lay elsewhere.

You wanted to love Spencer, you really did. Everything you’d learned about him painted a picture of a man who was kind, intelligent, and deeply devoted to you. But every time you looked at him, all you felt was a sense of apathy and resentment. It was an unfair burden, one you didn’t want to carry but couldn’t seem to shake. He knew you, but you didn’t know him. He had gotten to know the you that you couldn’t remember, had built a life with a version of yourself that no longer existed.

Safe to say, you hadn’t spoken to anyone but Emily since that day at Spencer’s apartment. Despite Emily’s best efforts to coax you out of your shell, to encourage you to re-engage with the world, you found solace only in her presence. She would suggest small outings, opportunities to reintroduce you to the life you’d lived—a coffee date with Penelope, a lunch with Noah, a casual dinner with the BAU team—but you declined each invitation with a sense of dread.

—

Emily understood your reluctance, though she worried about the isolation you were imposing on yourself. She was patient, never pushing too hard, but she tried her best to gently encourage you to take those first steps toward reconnecting with your life.

"Y/N," she said one afternoon as you both sat in the living room, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. "I know it’s hard, but you have so many people who care about you. They’re all here, ready to support you whenever you’re ready."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the floor. “I know,” you replied softly, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness. “I just... I don’t know how to face them, Emily. It’s like they’re expecting me to be someone I’m not.”

Emily reached over, taking your hand in hers, her grip reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything,” she said gently. “They just want to be there for you, to help you find your way back. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you.”

Despite her words, the idea of facing Spencer or any of your friends felt daunting. It wasn’t just about remembering; it was about rebuilding a sense of self that had been shattered by the accident. You felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, unsure of how to fit back into the picture of your own life.

—

One night, as you lay in bed, the weight of it all pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, the darkness a mirror to the emptiness you felt inside. The person you were before the accident seemed like a ghost, haunting the edges of your consciousness, taunting you with glimpses of a life you couldn’t quite grasp.

Tears slipped silently down your cheeks as you grieved for the life you’d lost, for the love that was now a distant memory. It felt like an insurmountable chasm between the past and present, a gap you couldn’t bridge no matter how hard you tried.

You curled up under the covers, wishing for relief from the emotional storm, longing for a sense of belonging that remained elusive. But as much as you yearned for the past, you knew the journey to healing had to start from where you were now—from this moment, with its uncertainties and challenges.

Emily found you the next morning, the traces of tears still visible on your face. She didn’t say anything, simply pulled you into a hug, offering her silent support. You leaned into her embrace, grateful for the unconditional love and understanding she provided.

“I’m here, Y/N,” Emily murmured, her voice steady and reassuring. “Whenever you’re ready to take that next step, I’m here.”

—

On a random Tuesday morning, you regained a glimpse of yourself. It was an ordinary day, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as you padded into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Emily was already there, pouring herself a cup and offering you a warm smile as you entered.

"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying the comforting tone you had come to rely on over the past few weeks.

“Did I bring any files home?” you asked, the question slipping out naturally as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I want to review the Cooper case.”

Emily whipped around so fast she thought she might get whiplash, her eyes wide with shock and a glimmer of hope. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice almost trembling with anticipation.

“The Cooper case?” you repeated, frowning slightly as you tried to grasp the memory that felt just within reach. “Oh, I wanted to review the evidence for the upcoming trial. I want to make sure that son of a bitch gets locked away.”

Emily’s face lit up with astonishment and disbelief, a slow grin spreading across her features. “Y/N… how do you remember that?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“What?” you blinked, the realization dawning on you like a gentle wave, the fog lifting ever so slightly. “Oh…” you murmured, the pieces clicking into place.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I remember!” you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement and relief.

“Do you remember anything else?” Emily asked eagerly, stepping closer as if to catch every word.

“My, um, my unit chief… her name is, uh, Sarah Freeman!” you said, a smile breaking across your face as more fragments of memory bubbled to the surface. It was like pulling on a thread and watching a tapestry unfold before your eyes.

“That’s amazing! You’re amazing!” Emily cheered, her eyes shining with pride and joy. She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly as if to anchor this precious moment in reality. “I’m going to call your doctor! Keep thinking!”

You nodded, your mind racing with possibilities. There was a thrill in the air, a sense of rediscovery that felt like sunlight streaming into a darkened room.

—

As the days and weeks passed, your world gradually came into sharper focus. You began to remember more and more, and your doctors believed that your brain was finally healing from the trauma of the accident, allowing you to access information that had been temporarily locked away. It was as if the fog that had settled over your mind was beginning to lift, and the memories of your life were emerging from the shadows.

With each passing day, you started seeing people more. The familiarity of their faces and the warmth of their presence became less overwhelming and more comforting. You remembered small bits of Noah, moving in with Emily, a few girls’ nights, and coffee dates with Penelope. Each memory was like a small gift, a piece of the puzzle that was slowly coming together.

Whenever you shared a memory with someone, it was met with tears of joy and hugs of relief. They were all so patient and understanding, celebrating every little moment of rediscovery with you. It was a testament to the love and support that surrounded you, a constant reminder that you were not alone on this journey.

—

With your birthday approaching, the excitement in the air was palpable. Everyone was thrilled that they would at least get to celebrate with you, even if the memories of past birthdays were still hazy. The anticipation of the party, the chance to be surrounded by the people who meant so much to you, filled you with a sense of hope and gratitude.

The only person you couldn’t seem to remember, however, was Spencer. Despite the progress you were making with others, there was an inexplicable block when it came to him. It was as if the memories you shared were trapped behind a door that refused to open, no matter how hard you tried.

Spencer felt the weight of this exclusion acutely. While everyone else reveled in your regained memories, he remained on the outside, watching as you reconnected with the life you’d once shared. At first, he tried to be patient, understanding that recovery was a complex and unpredictable process. But as time went on and the memories continued to elude you, Spencer began to feel a growing frustration, a simmering resentment that he struggled to contain.

—

The night of your birthday party arrived, and Emily had invited everyone important to you: the BAU team, Noah, your unit chief, and colleagues. The apartment was filled with laughter and music, the air buzzing with the joy of celebration. You moved through the crowd, receiving hugs and well-wishes, feeling more like yourself than you had in months.

The party was a joyful affair, filled with the warmth of friends and loved ones, each of them eager to share in the celebration of your continued recovery. You spent time with everyone, enjoying the opportunity to catch up and reconnect.

You found yourself talking to Derek Morgan, recounting a small memory that had surfaced earlier in the day—a humorous moment from a case your units had worked on together. Derek’s laughter echoed through the room, a rich, joyful sound that drew the attention of others nearby.

Spencer overheard your conversation with Derek and felt the frustration within him build past his boiling point. It was like a dam breaking, all the emotions he had tried to keep in check spilling over into an overwhelming wave. The exclusion, the constant reminder that you remembered everyone but him, finally pushed him to the edge.

Unable to contain his feelings any longer, Spencer stormed past you, his shoulder bumping into yours as he made his way toward the front door. The suddenness of his actions caught you off guard, the usually sweet and gentle Spencer now a storm of emotions.

“Spencer?” you called after him, confused by the abruptness of his departure. You quickly excused yourself from Derek and followed Spencer, determined to understand what had upset him.

You found Spencer in the hallway of the building, his back turned to you as he tried to compose himself. But when he turned around, you saw the angry tears in his eyes, the hurt etched across his features. It was a side of Spencer you hadn’t seen before, and it unsettled you.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to understand the source of his pain.

He took a deep breath, his emotions churning within him. The question felt like a catalyst, igniting the frustration and hurt he had been holding onto for so long. And then, finally, he exploded, the words tumbling out in a torrent of anger and anguish.

“Why, Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was raw, filled with desperation and resentment. “Why do you remember everyone but me? Do you secretly remember me but don’t know how to break it off, so you keep pretending you don’t know me?”

His accusation hung in the air, sharp and cutting. It was a blow that took your breath away, the depth of his pain evident in every word. Spencer’s eyes bore into yours, searching for answers, for some explanation that could make sense of the exclusion he felt so deeply.

“I’m not pretending, Spencer,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the shock of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. “I wish I could remember. I want to remember you more than anything.”

Spencer’s expression shifted, hurt and frustration warring within him. He turned away, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. “It just feels like... like I’m the only one left out,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I watch you remember all these moments, all these people, and I keep hoping that one day you’ll look at me and just... know.”

His words hung in the air, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you—a distance neither of you wanted, but couldn’t seem to bridge. It was like standing on opposite sides of a vast chasm, reaching for one another but never quite able to touch.

“You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you think I wanted to get hit by a semi and lose my memories? No! I want it all back, I want my life back.” You took a step closer, the intensity of your emotions propelling you forward. “Do you know how much it kills me that you know a version of me that I don’t? You want her back, and so do I, but Jesus Christ, Spencer! I’m not her, I can’t just be her, I’m fucking trying, okay?”

The hallway seemed to close in around you as you stood there, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise at the raw honesty in your voice, the depth of your struggle laid bare before him.

“I know you’re trying,” Spencer said, his voice softening even as his frustration simmered beneath the surface. “But it’s so hard to watch you remember everyone else and not me. It feels like I’m losing you all over again, every single day.”

"I’m losing myself too!” you replied, your voice breaking with emotion. “Every time I remember something, it’s like I’m meeting a stranger who’s supposed to be me. It’s terrifying, and I don’t know how to make it better. And it doesn’t help when I’m constantly reminded that you’re disappointed in me too.”

Spencer ran a hand over his face, his own anger and hurt warring with the compassion he still felt for you. He wanted to say the right thing, but his emotions were tangled, pulling him in different directions. The frustration that had built up over the weeks finally met the compassion he still felt for you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the fight leaving his voice as he took a step back, trying to regain control. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the anger giving way to vulnerability. “I know it’s not fair to put this on you. God, I’m not disappointed in you, I’m just... I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared that I’ll never get you back.”

The vulnerability in his words pierced through your own defenses, the rawness of his confession echoing the fears that had plagued you both. It was as if the anger that had fueled the argument had stripped away the layers, leaving only the truth of your shared fears and insecurities.

You sighed, your own anger giving way to a wave of exhaustion and sadness. The argument had drained you both, leaving behind a hollow ache that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m scared too,” you admitted, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’m scared that I’ll never be able to remember the love we had, that I’ll never be able to be the person you fell in love with.”

Spencer's eyes met yours, and you could see the struggle within him—the longing to reach out and bridge the gap between you, the desire to hold onto the love that had once been so strong and certain. “You’re still the person I fell in love with,” he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. “I know it’s hard to see right now, but you are. And I don’t want to lose you, even if it means starting over.”

His words hung in the air, a lifeline thrown across the chasm that had opened between you. You took a deep breath, the weight of his words.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer spoke up, his voice laced with vulnerability. His eyes held yours, searching for an answer he seemed afraid to hear but needed to know nonetheless.

“Of course,” you replied, curious about what was weighing so heavily on him. You wanted to reassure him, to offer some comfort amid the storm of emotions that had engulfed you both.

“Do you find me attractive?” Spencer’s question was simple, yet it held a complexity of emotions—self-doubt, insecurity, a desire for reassurance.

“Spencer… what?” you asked, taken aback by the suddenness of his inquiry. You hadn’t expected that question, and yet, as you looked at him, you realized how important your answer would be.

He shifted his weight, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to yours, the raw honesty in his expression clear as day. “Do you think that I am attractive? Even now, that you don’t remember me?”

You considered his question carefully. Spencer was undeniably an attractive person—his features were striking, with a gentle kindness in his eyes and a quiet strength in his posture. There was an undeniable allure to him, a magnetic pull that you felt even in your current state of confusion.

You imagined seeing him in a bar or a crowded room, where his presence would stand out, where you would undoubtedly look twice. His intelligence, the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, and the kindness in his eyes were all qualities that would draw you in.

“Yes,” you replied honestly, your voice steady and sincere. “Yes, Spencer, I find you attractive.”

Spencer let out a small breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he absorbed your answer. There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, a subtle shift that spoke volumes about how much your opinion mattered to him.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice a blend of gratitude and something deeper, something that felt like hope.

You took a step closer, wanting to close the distance between you. “Spencer, it’s not just about looks,” you added, wanting to make him understand. “I may not remember everything, but I can see the person you are. The way you care, the way you’ve been so patient with me… that’s what makes you truly attractive.”

His lips curved into a tentative smile, the tension in his features easing as your words reached him. It was a smile that held the promise of new beginnings, a shared understanding that even in the absence of memory, there was a foundation upon which you could rebuild.

Spencer nodded, a small chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture you found endearing. “I guess I just needed to hear it,” he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare in that moment.

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “We’ll figure it out,” you said, your voice filled with determination.

Spencer's fingers intertwined with yours, his touch gentle yet reassuring. The simple act of holding hands felt like a small victory, a step toward rebuilding the connection that had been so abruptly severed.

“You couldn’t possibly remember this,” Spencer said with a wry smile, “but I don’t usually touch people’s hands. It’s actually safer to kiss; fewer germs are spread that way.”

You let out a laugh, the tension between you dissolving into a moment of lightness. It was the first genuine laugh you'd shared since the accident, and it felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you replied, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin. “But if that’s a line, it’s not working.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s not a line, I promise,” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Just one of those strange facts about me you’ll probably hear more about as you get to know me again.”

“Good to know,” you said, your smile softening into something more sincere. “But for now, hand-holding is just fine.”

—

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and joy, a celebration not just of your birthday but of the progress you had made and the hope that lay ahead. Surrounded by friends and loved ones, you felt a sense of belonging, a reminder that even in the midst of adversity, there was a community that held you close.

As the night drew to a close, you and Spencer stood together on the balcony, the city lights twinkling in the distance like stars. It was a moment of quiet reflection, a chance to breathe and appreciate the small victories that had brought you to this point.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Spencer said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that resonated deep within you.

You turned to him, your heart full of gratitude and the promise of what was to come. “Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, your words laced with sincerity.

—

“Y/N! Spencer is here for you!” Emily called out from the living room, her voice carrying through the apartment with an excited lilt that made you smile.

You were in your bedroom, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. Today marked your fifth date with Spencer, a milestone that felt both exhilarating and significant as the two of you continued to rebuild your relationship from the ground up.

The past few weeks had been a journey of rediscovery. You and Spencer had taken it slow, giving each other the space and time needed to navigate the complexities of your situation. Each date had been a new beginning, a chance to learn about each other all over again, and it had been going well—better than you had dared to hope.

You’d spent hours talking about everything and nothing, sharing stories and memories that both filled in the gaps and created new ones. There were still moments of hesitation and uncertainty, but they were gradually being replaced by laughter and warmth, a growing sense of familiarity that felt like home.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you adjusted your necklace and took a deep breath, feeling a thrill of anticipation for the evening ahead. You made your way to the living room, where Emily was chatting with Spencer, her eyes lighting up with the kind of mischief only a big sister could muster.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted him with a smile, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest that had become a welcome sensation. “Ready to go?”

Spencer turned toward you, his face breaking into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. He looked dapper in a casual blazer and slacks, an outfit that struck the perfect balance between relaxed and stylish.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with admiration as he took in your appearance. "If I had known you were going to look this stunning, I would have worn my best suit."

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, please, you look great," you replied, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think we match perfectly. You know, two fashion icons taking on the city."

Emily watched the exchange with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased to see the chemistry between you and Spencer reigniting. She gave you a playful nudge, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Have fun, you two,” she said, ushering you toward the door. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at Emily’s antics, before turning back to Spencer. “Shall we?” you asked, extending your hand toward him.

Spencer took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a reassuring pulse of connection between you. “We shall,” he replied with a grin, leading you out the door and into the evening that awaited.

—

The drive was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally and effortlessly between you. You chatted about everything from work to your favorite TV shows, reveling in the comfort of each other’s company.

“So, where are we going tonight?” you asked, curious about the plans Spencer had made for your date.

“It’s a surprise,” he said cryptically, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But I think you’re going to love it.”

“Really?” you said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Are you sure it’s not just another one of your ploys to impress me?”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Would it be working if it was?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” you teased, giving him a flirtatious glance as the car continued through the city.

Eventually, you arrived at a charming little restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was the kind of place that exuded warmth and intimacy, the cozy ambiance inviting you in as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Wow, this place is lovely,” you said, taking in the dim lighting, the soft music playing in the background, and the delicious aroma of Italian cuisine wafting through the air.

Spencer smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I thought it might be a nice spot for us to relax and enjoy some good food,” he said, leading you to a table by the window that offered a view of the city lights twinkling in the distance.

“So, any more memories come back recently?” Spencer asked gently, his tone curious yet considerate, as if he knew the subject was still delicate.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement as you recounted some of the fragments that had returned. “I remembered a trip I took with Emily last year to the beach. We ended up getting caught in a rainstorm and had to take cover in this little café, where we spent the afternoon playing board games. It was such a fun day.”

Spencer listened intently, a smile tugging at his lips as you spoke. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “You know, we had a similar rainy day adventure once. It involved an umbrella, a very wet cat, and an impromptu rendition of Singin’ in the Rain in a park.”

“Did we now?” you replied, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “Are you sure you weren’t just trying to get me to fall for your charming rendition of a classic?”

“Guilty as charged,” Spencer admitted with a laugh, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

“Tell me, though, did we kiss in the rain?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

Spencer blushed, a charming pink spreading across his cheeks. “We might have…”

“How scandalous!” you replied, feigning shock, but the playful glint in your eyes gave you away.

“You were the one who initiated it!” Spencer shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh yeah, am I just supposed to believe you?” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a smirk. “You could be making it all up just to impress me.”

“Well,” Spencer said, a hint of mischief in his voice, “it is supposed to rain later. We could test out the theory.”

“Spencer Reid, you dog!” you exclaimed, laughing at the thought of dancing in the rain with him.

You shared a laugh, the sound mingling with the gentle hum of the restaurant around you. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

—

After dinner, you and Spencer strolled through a scenic path in the park, hand in hand. The night was pleasantly cool, and the stars dotted the sky like scattered jewels. The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, a blend of teasing and genuine connection that made the evening feel special.

“I thought it was supposed to rain?” you mused aloud, glancing up at the sky.

“Are you disappointed it’s not?” Spencer asked, a playful edge in his voice as he followed your gaze.

“Are you going to kiss me anyway?” you replied with a teasing smile, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Spencer froze up for a moment, caught off guard by the boldness of your question. A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, each one tangling with the next.

He had been nervous to make any moves on you ever since you’d started dating again. What if you didn’t like how he kissed anymore? Or his scent, or taste? What if you two didn't have rhythm anymore? The fear of these possibilities had kept him in check, cautious and tentative.

“What’s going on in that big brain?” you asked, your voice gentle and full of curiosity. You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the present. Your touch was reassuring, a reminder that the connection between you was as strong as ever.

Spencer shook his head slightly, chuckling at himself. “Just... overthinking, as usual,” he admitted, meeting your eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve just been worried that maybe things aren’t the same between us.”

You tilted your head, regarding him with a soft smile. “Spencer, nothing about you could ever disappoint me. We might be rebuilding things, but I think that’s what makes it exciting. We get to discover everything all over again.”

He nodded, his apprehension slowly melting away as your words resonated with him. The sincerity in your voice was like a balm, soothing the insecurities that had plagued him.

“And besides,” you added with a playful twinkle in your eye, “I think we both know we’ve still got that spark.”

Spencer laughed, his tension finally breaking as he took a step closer. The warmth of your presence enveloped him, and he realized how much he had missed these moments with you—the teasing, the laughter, and the unspoken bond that seemed to transcend the gap of memory.

“You’re right,” Spencer said, his voice softening as he gazed into your eyes. “I’d be more than happy to kiss you, rain or no rain.”

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As he leaned in, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you beneath the starlit sky.

When Spencer’s lips met yours, it was like coming home. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration of the familiar territory that quickly blossomed into something deeper. His lips were soft and warm, and the familiar scent of his skin surrounded you like a comforting embrace.

All the previous worries melted away as you found your rhythm together, the familiarity and connection more than you could have hoped for. Spencer’s kiss was tender but charged with an intensity that made your heart race, a reminder of the passion and warmth that had always been at the core of your relationship.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles beneath your fingertips. Spencer responded in kind, his hands finding their place on your face, drawing you into him as if he was afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, and it was as if time had stopped, the world around you fading away until only the two of you remained. Lips slotted together perfectly, tongues gliding in a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt Spencer’s teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip, a playful gesture that made you gasp softly against his mouth. The small sound seemed to spur him on, and you could feel the gentle pressure of his hands pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you.

In that moment, everything felt right—the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his touch, and the gentle thrum of your heartbeat syncing with his. It was a moment of pure connection, a dance of lips and breath and emotion that left you both feeling dizzy and alive.

You could feel the tension and uncertainty of the past few weeks melting away, replaced by a deep sense of belonging and peace. As you finally pulled back, you looked into Spencer’s eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back at you—the warmth, the longing, the hope that you both shared.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless but smiling, the shared moment leaving a lingering warmth that seemed to wrap around you both.

“Wow,” you murmured, gazing up at Spencer with a soft, genuine smile. “That was... perfect.”

Spencer chuckled, relief and joy evident in his eyes. “I’d say it was pretty amazing,” he agreed, still holding you close.

You both lingered there for a while, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, the cool breeze whispering through the trees, the world feeling just a little bit brighter.

—

As you continued your stroll through the park, the clouds did open up, and the rain did come, soaking both you and Spencer. The unexpected shower was a sudden thrill, droplets of water cascading down your hair and cheeks, drenching your clothes in moments. The rain brought a fresh, invigorating scent to the air, wrapping around you like a cool embrace as you and Spencer burst into laughter.

“You said you wanted rain,” Spencer quipped, looking at you with a playful glint in his eye, water droplets clinging to his hair and eyelashes.

“I did, didn’t I?” you giggled, brushing a lock of wet hair out of your face. You both sprinted toward his car, shoes splashing through puddles, the sound of your laughter mingling with the rhythm of the rain.

You reached the car, breathless and exhilarated, climbing inside and closing the door behind you. The heated air enveloped you both in a welcome warmth, and you shivered slightly, feeling the chill of your soaked clothes.

Spencer turned on the car’s heater, and soon the air filled with warmth, contrasting the rain still pelting the car roof outside. You shared a look of amusement, the shared adventure bringing a delightful sense of connection.

“I don’t want to go home, but I’m uncomfortable,” you admitted, glancing down at your soaked clothes with a bemused smile.

“We could… go back to our—my apartment and change. Maybe watch a movie?” Spencer suggested, his voice soft and inviting, a hint of hesitation in his words as if worried you might say no.

You met his eyes, the warmth in them offering reassurance. “I’d love that,” you replied, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of spending more time with him.

—

Spencer drove you both back to the apartment, the windshield wipers swishing rhythmically as the rain continued its steady drumming against the car. It was your first time returning to the apartment since the night you’d cried there, overwhelmed by the weight of memories you couldn’t quite grasp. But now, the thought of revisiting felt different, less daunting and more like a step forward.

As you entered the apartment, you paused to take it all in again—the familiar scent, the little touches that made the space feel like home. Spencer watched you with a gentle smile, allowing you to explore at your own pace, offering silent support as you reacquainted yourself with the surroundings.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Spencer asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “All of your stuff is still in there.”

“Um, sure. Thank you,” you replied, grateful for the chance to shake off the chill of the rain.

You made your way to the bathroom, feeling a sense of nostalgia as you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. The shower was just as you remembered it, a familiar haven of warmth and comfort.

The water was soothing as it cascaded over you, washing away the rain and the lingering remnants of the day’s adventure. You felt a sense of relaxation settling in, a quiet moment of peace as you let the warmth envelop you.

But then, as you turned too quickly, your foot slipped, and you fell onto your tailbone with a startled yelp.

“Ow!” you exclaimed, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain.

“Y/N?? Are you okay?” Spencer’s voice called out from the other side of the door, filled with concern.

“Yeah! I just fell,” you called back, trying to keep your tone light despite the embarrassment.

“I’m coming in,” Spencer announced, the worry evident in his voice.

“Wait, Spencer, no—” you began, but he was already in the bathroom, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

He saw your naked form on the ground of the tub through the clear glass, his expression filled with worry and, perhaps, just a touch of awkwardness.

“Spencer!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and amusement.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” he asked, his concern overriding any sense of propriety.

“I’m fine, I’m naked!” you replied, laughing at the absurdity of the situation even as you tried to cover yourself.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Spencer said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I forget. I’ve seen you naked many times.”

“That is so weird,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully.

Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “I don’t think so,” he said, his voice softening into something more tender.

“Can I see you then? Even it out?” you asked, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.

“I’ve seen you naked before, right?” you continued, your playful tone belying the genuine affection in your gaze.

“Well, yes, but it’s different,” Spencer stammered, trying to maintain his composure.

“So it’s okay for you to see me, but not for me to see you?” you challenged, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Come get in the shower and help me up.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then his expression softened into a smile, affection and delight playing across his features. “Alright,” he said, his voice filled with laughter. “Just this once.”

He quickly shed his clothes and joined you in the shower, his presence a comforting warmth amid the steam and water. With a gentle touch, he helped you up, his hands steady and reassuring as he held you close.

“Thank you,” you said softly, meeting his eyes with a smile.

Spencer’s gaze was warm and tender, his hands lingering on your waist as he smiled back at you. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise.

Your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they wandered downward, taking in the sight of him. The realization that you were both standing there, unashamedly bare, brought a new kind of awareness that was both amusing and endearing.

“Y/N!” Spencer laughed. “Eyes up here.”

“I'm sorry,” you said with a playful smirk, your eyes darting back up to meet his. “It’s human nature, after all.”

“I know,” Spencer replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. “But at least pretend to be subtle.”

“You’re quite large,” you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to keep the mood light. “Are you a grower still? Or always a shower?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself as he groaned, “Oh my godddd.”

“Answer the question, and I’ll shut up,” you promised, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you looked at him with mock innocence.

With a sigh of resignation, Spencer removed his hands, his expression a mix of bashfulness and humor. “Still a grower,” he admitted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“Lucky me!” you exclaimed, your tone full of playful triumph.

Spencer shook his head, his laughter infectious as he declared, “Not anymore, this was great. Goodbye!” He made a half-hearted attempt to step out of the shower, clearly feigning an exaggerated exit.

“Not so fast!” you interjected, grabbing his arm and pulling him back gently, your own laughter bubbling up as you did so.

His eyes met yours again, and the playful banter settled into something softer, a mutual understanding that transcended words. The silliness of the moment gave way to a quiet intimacy, the kind that came from truly seeing one another and finding joy in simply being together.

As the water continued to rain down, you and Spencer stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, feeling a sense of comfort and safety that went beyond the physical.

You both eventually turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, towels wrapped snugly around you. The steam-filled bathroom felt like a private world where the rest of the day’s worries faded away.

—

Once dried and dressed in cozy clothes, you settled into the living room, the aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air as you curled up on the couch together. The rain had stopped outside, leaving a soft patter of droplets against the windows, the perfect backdrop for a cozy movie night.

Spencer draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “So, what’s our viewing pleasure tonight?” he asked, his voice filled with a relaxed contentment.

“I was thinking something classic,” you suggested, snuggling into his side. “Maybe a bit of Casablanca?”

“Casablanca, it is,” Spencer agreed, reaching for the remote with a smile.

As the movie played, you found yourself not only immersed in the storyline but also in the warmth of Spencer’s presence beside you. The shared laughter, the gentle teasing, the comfortable silence—it all felt like home.

—

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, you find yourself nestled in the bed, no longer on the couch. The room is softly lit with the early morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Spencer is still sound asleep next to you, his arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace. His breathing is steady and calm, and you watch him for a moment, feeling a rush of affection for this man who has been so patient and kind through everything.

Wanting to do something kind for him, you slowly and carefully extricate yourself from his embrace, trying not to wake him. You slip out of bed, pulling on his robe as you head to the kitchen to make some coffee, a small gesture of appreciation for the many times he’s been there for you.

As you move about the kitchen, the familiar routine of making coffee brings a sense of comfort. You smile to yourself as you measure out the coffee grounds and water, the rich aroma filling the air. It feels good to be doing something for him, even if it’s just a small gesture.

When Spencer finally wakes up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee lures him from the cocoon of blankets. In his sleep-delirious haze, he doesn’t realize anything has changed, and he instinctively walks into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Morning, Spence,” you say softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace as you continue to stir the coffee.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” he mumbles into your hair, his voice thick with sleep.

“I made your coffee, just how you like it,” you say with a smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the little surprise you’ve prepared for him.

“Black, seven teaspoons of sugar?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of playful suspicion.

“Precisely,” you reply, leaning back to kiss his head where it’s nestled against your neck. You love the way his hair feels soft and slightly tousled from sleep, the familiarity of the moment wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Spencer hums contentedly, the combination of your affection and the promise of coffee stirring him more fully awake. You hand him a steaming mug, and he takes a grateful sip, savoring the sweet warmth.

“Thought we could call Diana today, check in on her progress,” you suggest casually, remembering the conversations you’ve had about keeping in touch with his mom.

Spencer’s mind is still catching up to the morning, the mention of his mother registering slowly. “Okay, that’s a good id–wait… what?” His eyes widen as he pulls back slightly, looking at you with surprise and hope.

“Diana, babe? Your mom? I haven’t talked to her in a while, and I wanted to see how she was doing,” you say, turning to face him, your own excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

“Y/N, are you messing with me?” Spencer asks, his voice a blend of disbelief and anticipation, as if he’s afraid to hope too much.

“No… Are you okay, Spence?” you ask gently, reaching up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin.

“Spence? My coffee preference? My mom?” Spencer’s eyes search yours, an array of emotions flickering across his face. “What are you not telling me?”

You smile, unable to contain your excitement any longer. “Oh, I woke up this morning with a few memories of our time together.”

Spencer’s eyes widen, his expression shifting from confusion to pure joy. “You remember?” he asks, voice filled with a hopeful wonder that sends a warm thrill through you.

“Bits and pieces,” you admit, nodding as you set your own coffee down on the counter. “It’s like little snapshots coming back, but they’re there. And you were in them.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and sends warmth flooding through you. “That’s amazing, Y/N,” he says, pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you completely.

You melt into his hug, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. It’s a moment of connection and triumph, a small victory in the long journey of reclaiming the life you once shared.

“I’m so happy,” Spencer murmurs, his voice muffled by your hair but no less filled with emotion. “I’ve missed you—every version of you.”

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that mirrors his own. “I’ve missed you too, Spence. I can’t wait to see what else comes back.”

Spencer leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His touch was a gentle reassurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be, a soothing balm to the uncertainty that had lingered since the accident. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, a reminder that love was a constant, waiting patiently to be remembered.

“I love you,” Spencer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with sincerity and a gentle vulnerability. “Can I say that now? Is that okay?”

His eyes searched yours, seeking not just permission but a confirmation that the love you once shared was finding its way back, stronger and more resilient than before.

“Only if it’s okay for me to say I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with the depth of emotion that had grown in your heart.

The words were a quiet declaration, an acknowledgment of the bond that had endured through the haze of forgotten memories and the challenges of the past. It was a promise of the future you were eager to explore together, a future built on the foundation of love and understanding.

Spencer’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a joy that mirrored your own. “Then it’s more than okay,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection.

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the morning, the aroma of coffee mingling with the soft light filtering through the kitchen. It was a simple moment, yet it held the weight of everything you had been through together, a testament to the resilience of love and the power of memory.

“Come here,” Spencer said, pulling you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting reminder of the life you were rediscovering together. In that embrace, you found not just comfort but a sense of belonging that had been waiting for you to come home to.

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yestrday · 9 months ago

Text

: ̗̀➛ DRUNK ON ECSTASY ! ft. yan! venti, kaeya, diluc, albedo

In a last-ditch effort to subdue your fiery spirit and finally claim you as his, your dear yandere mixes a little something with your food. different emotions arise, but one thing is clear— you’re soooo much cuter when you’re pawing at his sleeves and crying for him.

+ whew finally got this one out of the drafts!! did this instead of the reflection paper lololol

( yandere behavior, drúgging, aphrodisíacs )

venti does it in a last-effort ditch to break down your walls. don’t blame him, okay! he’s been trying sooo hard these past few months to even put a dent in that thick wall you’ve put up between the two of you. he’s confident in his looks and his charm, and has been exploiting the utmost out of them just to seduce you! but you’re sooo hard-headed, and he’s growing really desperate!

he adores your modesty, really! but the shy and reserved smile you put on when he makes a move on you pains him both physically and mentally. he wants to see all of you, the good ones and the bad ones, and he wants to assure you that he’ll love you no matter what! he wants to see you needy and desperate just like he is, but it looks like you’re trying to control yourself. but no worry though, because venti will make it his mission to set you free of such bothersome restraints.

and well~ ♡ venti giggles as he swirls the pink liquid around its heart-shaped vial, brazenly playing with it with your back to your wine. he knows juuust the thing to get you to open up. don’t worry, don’t worry ♡ venti can’t seem to repress the wide grin as he drops just a teensy bit of the potion. this is what friends do, don’t they? help each other out?

and he’s helping you out alright. not like he has much of a choice when you cling and grasp at him so needily. he’s laughing all the time, even when you’re begging for some sort of release. his laughter, bordering on maniacal and full of lust, is muffled by the blood rushing to your head. he loves it— those desperate eyes, the whiny pleas… you’re everything he’s dreamed of and more. isn’t this wayyy better? to be true to yourself instead of hiding what you’re really like?

“venti venti ventiventiventi pleaseee~!” your whines sound absolutely delightful to his ears, and even more so when he watches you cling to him with hearts in your eyes. your hair’s a mess, your cheeks are bright red, and you smile at him like you’re drunk on the attention he’s giving you. “hmm, i don’t know…” venti feigns hesitance, even though he’s kicking his legs in delight. “it’s getting late now… don’t you need to go home at this time already?” you shake your head fervently, clutching even tighter onto him. you stare up at him so desperately and pleadingly that it’s hard to connect you to the straight-laced person you were before. “i– i don’t need to! i’ll stay here for you, venti! just pleasepleaseplease!” you nigh sob, embracing his side as try to indulge in every warmth and touch his body can offer. “please touch me already!” the giggle he lets out is almost maniacal, one that would scare you if you weren’t high on aphrodisiac. he takes a large swig from the wine bottle (more pink than the usual red) and brings your face closer to his. your breaths intermingle, smelling of sweet wine and laced with lust, as venti takes in the prize he’s been coveting for so long. “you’re so precious, my darling,” he whispers, and when he swoops in to kiss you, tongue wrapped around yours, you swear you’ve never been more contented in your entire life.

kaeya believes that he’s not the sort of person to resort to such… disgusting tactics. he tells himself that he can win you over by his charm and hard efforts alone, but the way you smile politely at him or when you take every opportunity to avoid him… it only digs deeper into his insecurities. every witty remark he has is met with an awkward laugh, every time he tries to close the distance, you shy away. it hurts him more than he wants it to. he knows he should be giving up but when he stares at the vial of aphrodisiac he’d unthinkingly buy, he knows he’s far too gone to give up.

he tries to forget about it, tries his best not to think about what horrible thoughts he’s been having of you. but every time you show him even the slightest affection, a genuine smile here or a comforting touch there, he starts caving. how happy he would be if you showed that to him every day! he’d return every affection you gave tenfold, you’d never be starved of it. he wants you so, so bad it’s maddening, and every night he sleeps in his bed alone, his mind becomes a little bit crazier.

but tonight, you were with another. he knows he’s just a friend, that you see them nothing more than a brother, but that’s not how the other party looks at you. yet you lean into their touch so willingly, laugh with them without any restraints, and smile at them so blindingly it stuns kaeya even from across the room. he grasps tightly the bulge in his pocket, heart-shaped and taunting, and bites his lip.

he wants you so, so badly. so when you approach him with your wine glass lifted, greeting him with a drunken smile, he tries to pretend that he is the subject of your affection. tonight, it can be all pretend, but when he refills your cup and watches the pink wisps drown in the red wine, he tells himself that it’ll all be real after this.

“i’ve got you, i’ve got you.” kaeya acts like he’s not the one who made you like this, swaying tipsily from the wine and the drug and clinging onto him for support. well, maybe more than support, because of the way you nuzzle into his side and breathe a sigh of relief, kaeya thinks that maybe you’re longing for something more. “hehe, have i ever told you how handsome you are, mister kaeya~?” you ask him, smiling wobbly up at him as you gaze into his one eye. he gasps in shock when he realizes that your noses are barely touching, and he leans away quickly to save his rapidly beating heart. he wasn’t like this with others, he swears, but something about you makes him so vulnerable and flustered that he doesn’t know what to do. your rented room is barely lit, the candlelights on the side of the wall somehow adding a sensual atmosphere as he guides you to your bed. the feeling of your skin against his is like fire to ice, and the little whimpers you give as the heat tortures you from within sets his head spinning. he can barely handle it, and with the way you’ve been eyeing him… surely it wouldn’t hurt to hope for more. he tries to set you on the bed, but you’re quick to push him down first and straddle him with a triumphant grin. he knows he’s the suspect behind your behavior, yet you’re the one pinning him down and he’s the one blushing and gasping like he’s been caught in your trap. “kaaaeeeyyaaaaa~ ♡” you drawl, nipping lovebites and staring at him with heart eyes and a flirty pout. “keep me company for the night?” his breath hitches in his throat as he takes in your draping clothes and feels the warmth of your body on top of him. mustering up enough bravado, he summons his confident grin to his smile as he wraps his arms around your neck. his heart is beating in his chest, and his eagerness drowns out whatever guilt he may have felt. “anything for you, love.”

when desperate, diluc might not make the most rational of decisions. he had bought the love potion off the black market in a fit of mania after you had once again run off and hurt yourself. his illogical logic reasoned that if you weren’t willing to be under his care, safe, and protected, he might as well force you to want it.

the morning after, diluc’s face contorted with disgust as he looked into the reflection of a man willing to force the person he’d been pining for into something they didn’t want. he locked the crystal bottle under lock and key, swearing that not once would he ever use it. he loved you too much, and admittedly too prideful to resort to such cheap tactics. he needed you to love him of your own volition.

but tonight was another one of those nights, news of another dangerous stunt of yours in dragonspine reaching his ears. you were driving him insane. what archon would care if he kept you under his protection, shackling you to his side even if it meant depriving you of your freedom to explore the world as you wished? hell, he might even get rewarded for it, because you were going to kill yourself at this rate!

there must have been a reason why he didn’t throw away that potion like he had ought to do, a malicious subconscious telling him that he would need it in the future. and it was right, the side of diluc that he had despised so much was right. as he swirls the ominous glowing pink in its bottle, he watches it drop into your wine with a face devoid of any emotion– too sick with love and paranoia to even feel anything for the crime that he was about to do.

the way you’re shivering and reaching for his touch is making him go crazy. he had never expected the potion to be this strong (though he did drop a few too much just to ensure the… effectiveness), so he received your weak embrace with both surprise and a dark delight. your current image was one he thought he despised— babbling incoherently, swaying tipsily, airy giggles, just like the drunks he tended to— but on you, it was nothing short of endearing. especially with the way you whimper at his every caress, shaking in flush pleasure as you lean in for more. you’re pliant on his bed with hazy eyes anticipating his every move, and he gently lifts parts of your clothes to observe the collection of scars you’ve collected. “d– diluc…” you whimper, weakly grabbing at his wrist as he traces another once more. you’re so… small, hands barely wrapping around the width of his wrist. “wha… what are you doing…?” “observing my mistakes,” he replies, pressing a chaste kiss on your temple that has you whining. he sees this with dark eyes but refuses to let go of the leash he’s put upon himself. “all these scars that litter you’re body, it was my mistake for even letting you go out there when you can’t even take care of yourself.” he thumbs another scar and you bite your lip. “now you won’t have to worry anymore. i’ll be the one taking care of you.” “take care of me…?” you’re silent for a few seconds as if the reality of the situation has finally dawned on you. diluc sits in silence too, waiting for you to start screaming and kicking and demanding before a wobbly grin spreads on your face. “take care of me? ♡ then…” wrapping your legs around his neck, you pull him in closer till his chin rests on your tummy, and you smile so lovingly at him that he could almost fool himself. “then take care of me lo~ots tonight, ‘kay? ♡”

albedo doesn’t even bother reserving a love potion for a last resort. he might be a patient man with most things, but he sometimes likes to indulge in his sadistic desires. and there’s no other person than you who seems to rile up those desires more than ever. to have you shivering and weak on his table, moaning weakly as you beg with a bright flush on your cheeks… albedo could not have made the potion any faster.

he’s always been… scientific? when it came to matters of the heart. he’s not the type to chalk the unexplainable thumping of his chest to a mere clash of chemical reactions in his brain. rather, he looks for the fastest and most efficient way to get him results. he could try and be content watching you from afar, dressed in your cute waitress getup as you tended to customers, but archons knew how much he was itching to have his hands on you.

every time you smiled at him from across the street, bounding from good hunter to the little alchemy stall with food that albedo had ordered with ill intentions… it festered something dark within him. albedo’s no idiot, he’s fully aware of what dangerous ideas his mind has been cooking up this entire time. you chat with him with wide and trusting eyes, unaware of how his gaze lingers on your lips and how he purposely brushes your hair back to let his touch linger.

it drives him insane how naive you are, but it is an alchemist’s duty to break down things and build them up again to truly understand the way they are. and albedo is nothing but curious about you.

albedo is delighted at how much the potion seems to have an effect on you. you could barely think, head empty except for the constant need of albedo’s touch, and you beg for it so~o prettily too. he tucks a messy strand behind your ear, just as he always did, but instead of warm smiles and thank yous he’s met with whines and hazy eyes. “‘bedo, ‘bedo, pleeasseee~” you sob into his palm, hugging his arm in an attempt to keep more of his warmth to yourself. “wh- what’s going onnn? i’m sca-ared…” he shushes you, soft caresses tickling your neck as he presses a kiss on your temple. it’s exhilarating how much you shuddered from a mere peck and wondered that should he have made the effects stronger, it certainly would have sent you right over the edge. “sh sh shhh, it’s okay, darling. you’re fine. your body’s just reacting… accepting… let me indulge in this moment for a little bit longer, ‘kay? then i’ll relieve you of your pain.” you don’t process any of his words, just looking up at him with fearful yet trusting eyes. he chuckles when he sees this stupidly cute expression on you and helps himself to nip on your earlobe. “ngh, nha ♡ n- no! not the ear…! ‘bedo, ‘s too sensitive!” your toes curl at the onslaught of pleasure, and you can’t help but kick your legs as you’re overwhelmed. “y- you can’t…!” “oh dear,” he chuckles, pulling away from your lobe and watching as you lay on his lap, panting and twitching at the sensation of it all. “it’s just the ear, darling. surely, you can’t be that sensitive yet?” he eyes the cup of tea that he had brewed, suspiciously tinged with pink. “you haven’t finished your cup yet, you know.” “c… cup?” you slur, tongue feeling leaden. through half-lidded eyes, you can barely make out the sly smile on albedo’s lips. “wh… whaddya mean…?” huffing a fond laugh, albedo shakes his head and reaches out for the teacup, before tilting it into his mouth. his lips descend on yours, tongue swiping at your lips to be permitted entry. you part them, and the distinct taste of tea enters your mouth as he kisses you even deeper. “that’s what i mean,” he smiles, pulling away with naught but a string of saliva attached. now his cheeks glow pink, as he watches you with lustful eyes as pleasure and unbearable heat shake your body once again. “it’s time to fall even deeper, my love.”

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere venti #yandere kaeya alberich #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere albedo #yester.writes

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i-cant-sing · 6 months ago

Text

Thinking about my own grandpa and how he'd comfort me with sweets/icecream whenever i had the slightest inconvenience and i just dream of whether he'd still do it to me as a 23 year old, ruffling my hair, letting me cut his birthday cake, scolding my parents when they got mad at me (yes i snitched on my parents), wiping my fat tears with his handkerchief, showing me his drawings of airplane engines as cold air blasted through the ac, letting me eat food from his plate that my mom made me bring him lol.

and like it grandparents are sooo sweet man. they couldve been okay-ish parents to their own kids, but then they get grandkids and they're like a whole different species *sniffle* theyre so precious.

and now my mind goes to that yandere todoroki clan au (i think it was the bullied series) where at the end, reader dies because of rei, and the whole fam loses their sanity. then one day, reader is reincarnated (its her quirk) as dabi's baby and dabi shares the news with his siblings because he needs to restore their sanity too (cause he feels responsible for them too, the "eldest kid" syndrome).

anyways, after you, his daughter had died, enji lost it and killed rei and then just vanished into the mountains to mourn his loss. years later, for whatever reason, he finds out about you. he's standing there, watching toddler you looking at him with curiosity. you stumble towards him, and Enji's on his knees at this point, he's in shock. your scars, your marks from your previous life dont even register to him until later on, all he can focus is you- its you, his baby. his daugher. his child that he swore to protect and failed.

your legs give out when you reach him but your hands reach for him and enji's already lifting you up, bringing you to his chest. his eyes are filled with tears as u look at him and babble, your hands grabbing onto his shirt, touching his face, big doe eyes staring at him.

he hugs you, silent sobs wrecking his body as he gets a whiff of your head. you- you smell just like her- like his daughter.

It really is you.

he doesn't let go of you, even when you eventually fall asleep in his arms, rocking you gently as he stares down at you in awe and disbelief. he doesn't let you go even when dabi tries to take you back, even when dabi insists that he won't keep you two apart, that you need to rest in your bed as he explains everything.

he finally let's you go when you wake up and reach for your dad (dabi), crying when enji doesn't let you leave his arms. but he relents, enji relents when you cry- it hurts him so bad, he's reminded of all the times how you used to cry before, how you used to beg him for help, beg him to save you. his heart breaks to see you like this, in tears.

enji's only partially conscious of what dabi is saying to him, explaining to him that you're now "his" daughter and enji's "granddaughter" and that's how things will be if they need to work. But enji doesn't care whether you're his daughter or not, all he cares about is that he's in your life because he needs to- he will keep you safe. He won't make the same mistakes again. Never.

i can just imagine the siblings and enji all sitting down together to make decisions about your life in extreme detail so that they ensure that no harm befalls you ever again, and if by some extreme badluck you die, they need to make sure that you reincarnate back to them.

they plan your every day, they make sure that at least one of them is with you at all times, and most importantly, they make sure youre safe and happy. when you start going to school, you're taken to school by Shotou because Dabi (who went back to working as a chef) has to go to work early. then at school, your teacher is more than likely Fuyumi (and if she's not your teacher, then she still works at your school). then after school, you're picked up by Enji who takes you out for ice cream (always, he doesnt care if its before u have had lunch. he needs to make up for all the times he couldnt give u ice cream because of rei) and also buy you any toys u want. enji is just enjoying you padding away and pointing at things that catch your eye. at home, natsuo has returned from his shift at the hospital and then starts heating up the food dabi had already made for you, before letting enji put you down for nap time. when you wake up, natsuo takes your vitals and a basic medical check. by dinner, dabi is home and you welcome him by launching yourself at his legs with a thud. he laughs, picks you up and pecks your cheek before taking you into the kitchen with him to make dinner while you tell him all about your day.

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere endeavor #yandere todoroki family #yandere todoroki #yandere shotou

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rzyraffek · 1 year ago

Note

You did a request on fainting in front of Brahms, so how would the Sinclair Brothers react to reader fainting? Thank you! Y’all have a good one! :3

Yay! My writing spirit came back! So now imma spam you all with fanfics!! I also wrote a bit more that JUST Sinclair bros

They/them, sfw, Request Open

Slashers with s/o that faints

Bo sinclair

Will immediately pick them up, check for any damage.

Will be stressed af, and get so protective i swear

Will overthink it, he kinda has anger issues so he might think he did something that casued it??? Idk

When s/o wakes up he gonna be so realived. They really gave him a scare

Will ask if anyone hurt them? Or is it like normal for them

Overall 7/10 probably died 5times while waiting for you to wake up

Vincent Sinclair

Tralala vibing with my love lala HU- WHY ARE THRT ON FLOOR??? UHH BO? BO! S/O IS IN FLOOR

Will knee and check breathing and heart beat. Of thank god at least they are alive

With bo's help carried them to bed room and he didnt leave their side! Holding their hand whole time

When they wake up he gonna shower them with kisses and hugs!!! Yay so you are alive!!! Yay!!

Will lay in bed with them, moving his legs in air while s/o turns into Wiki page and tells him all sympptoms, what to do ect

Overall 8/10 live laugh love Vincent

Lester Sinclair

S/o got to tell this man about their 'fainting problem' before it happends

Bcs this dude might cry, or have mental break down

Especially if it happend when yall where in Forest, AWAY FROM ANYONE THAT COULD HELP OR COMFORT

S/o probavly gonna wake up in middle of car ride home and this guy will be so relived

Guy will acually take notes of stuff he needs to know about their fainting problem, so in case he panics next time he has everything written down

Overall 9/10 boy is doing his best

Jason Voorhees

P.A.N.I.C

Immediately picks them up, so so worried, will check their heartbeat by putting his ear on their chest

Lays them down on the most comfy bed he could find in this god forsaken camp

Sits down next to it (probably in chair or if there's non he will just sit on ground)

When they wake up he will be so so happy but also so so puzzled? Did you ate something bad? Were you too hot? Too tired? Too worried? What happened! Tell him

You gotta to tell him step by step how to react, how to notice that s/o will faint and what to do afterwards

Man will be on full alert after every time they pass out. Like this guy will lay them gently down, put water bottle right next to them so it's close and litteraly stab anyone in 100meter radius (boi gets protective)

Overall 8/10 good care taker

Myers Micheal

... okay? So your sleeping now??? Weird

Nah but fr he was in ASYLUM for FEW years, he probably saw plenty of people who pass out, due to stress, emotions, self destructive stuff ect ect

So he knows what to do and how to do. But he simply doesn't want to lol

Hes sure that you will be fine. He will just make sure that you didht break anything or that you are laying in position that makes you able to breath of course

S/o gonna wake up with muscle pain and headache :(

Gonna tell micheal that. No babe you arent edgy, you are just an asshole

Next time he gonna sigh loudly and put s/o back to bed. Only because they gonna be mad at him afterwards.. its not that he cares! Pfff micheal? He totally doesn't care pfff

Overall 4/10 will judge the position you passed out in

Billy lenz

Will sit on their chest, litteraly he gonna choke them frfr. But he didnt mean to so it doesnt count!

Will talk to them while they are passed out

Will drag them to couch because no way in hell hes going to drag them all way upstairs

Will get bored and lonley >:(

When s/o wakes up they have to explain to him that, no s/o wasn't sleeping, they were timed out of life

Gonna bring them glas of water

Gonna look at them with his goblin eyes,and be like 'sooo can we play uno now?' 'Honey I see everything doubled now 'okay... so can we play uno now'

Next time they pass out he is gonna put them in so many blankets they turn into burrito (not only in looks but also its probably extremely hot)

Overall 6/10 would rather play uno

Asa emory

"Ooh honey..." picks them up✅, carries to bed✅, puts in right position✅, grabs water and mess from kitchen✅

He is so ✅✅✅

Will ask them about how they feel, do they need to puke? Maybe stronger meds? Are you cold? Or maybe too hot?

But he isn't very 'in your face' with all those questions, he asks them just like doctor would, with absolute no emotion or huge facial reactions. He knows it might be stressful or overwhelming

Will give space if needed

He also made sure to reread books and articles about people who pass out randomly to make sure to read theirs body language

Dont worry little butterfly you can rest now

Overall 10/10 but made you watch his beatle collections while you couldn't leave bed

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chochuuya · 1 year ago

Text

manga genres.

matsuno chifuyu x fem!reader

disclaimer/note: lots of bickering, chifuyu is a hardcore, he called you a dork and actually roasts you bad but.. finally breaks his christmas curse? (｡- .•)

wc: 1.6k [1668]

you both can never get along when it comes to your manga preferences.

“shut up.” chifuyu sneers.

“no, you shut up!” you say in return.

it’s been about 30 minutes since you first started arguing. chifuyu is a softie at heart, and enjoyed the romance genre. while you were a person of action, enjoying the thriller genre much more.

“the art style is so much better. i don’t even know how you can read a story with such bad flow!” he argued.

you scoffed, turning your head away for a second before looking back at him.

“bad story flow? how dare you. as if your fav isn’t so predictable and mundane, chifuyu. trust me, action is sooo much better than romance.”

“well at least my favourite doesn’t have bad character development! at least they have likeable characters with diverse personalities, compared to your fav show where everyone is plain and boring.” chifuyu says, clearly not going to budge.

“oh, and your fav also has shitty romance.” he adds with a smirk.

he’s getting annoying, you swear you could punch his dumb face but you decided against it.

“well, at least my manga has plot twists and actually keeps their audience wanting for more! your romance? twelve episodes and we’re done. you can just read another of the same genre and you’ll get same plot every time.”

“oh no plot twists, huh?” chifuyu retorts gleefully.

“like who died in the latest chapter or some other bullcrap like that? i rather read and watch something where i can relax and enjoy.” the blond says, “you know, something that doesn't overstimulate your brain.”

“and plus, with romance i get to enjoy some sweet and spicy scenes that i like so much.”

he adds cheekily, “besides, i hate waiting a week for the next chapter. romance is much better than that.”

you scoffed in disbelief. the audacity and ego of his is something else.

“maybe your attention span is just too short to be watching or reading action, chifuyu!”

“and maybe your brain is a bit too simple compared to mine.” he retorts snarkily, “maybe you need constant action and stimulation to keep you entertained, because you get bored too easily.”

“and, it doesn’t matter how long a manga or anime is, it’s the enjoyment and the quality of it that counts. and clearly romance does it best.” he adds smugly, knowing he’s won in his eyes.

you actually rolled your eyes at his reasoning.

“maybe your authors keep dragging the story because they know romance and slice of life is just too simple without any action in it! yeah, what about that?”

“not to mention some of your favourites are quite questionable, chifuyu. what was it again.. oshi no ko? fruits basket? yuck!” you added.

chifuyu chuckles in amusement at your annoyance.

“you know what else is funny? i bet you can’t watch a romantic comedy without feeling cringe or getting embarrassed. and i mean real romcoms, like wotakoi and kaguya-sama.”

"and yeah, they’re my favourites, the anime just elevated them more. i mean come on, they’re cute and funny! and oshi no ko’s mystery and drama, even the comedy at times! how can you hate them?!” he states, annoyed.

“you bet i do, i don’t know how you feel all giddy inside when watching or reading them. maybe you’re just a hopeless romantic!”

you laughed wholeheartedly at your own remark.

“kaguya-sama? even i know better romances than you, ao haru ride and kimi ni todoke is so much better.”

“you know nothing, (y/n).” chifuyu says, amused.

“i admit kaguya-sama has its flaws, but it’s so damn good too. and ao haru ride is nothing but a sad, slow-burn romance that is painfully boring." he says, feeling a bit annoyed at your remark.

“and kimi ni todoke? again, slow-burn that is a bit too cliché.” he adds before saying, “i’d rather read or watch wotakoi. that’s a much better romance manga.”

you sighed in defeat. just hurts your throat trying to even get your argument against him.

chifuyu laughs, “told you! you clearly don’t know enough about manga and anime. you should learn from me, (y/n)!”

“and maybe, just maybe, if you try to change your tastes in manga and anime, you’d start attracting people who like the same thing as you.” he smirks, knowing he hit a nerve with that last comment of his.

you nudged him.

“you say that as if i don’t hear you complaining every christmas that you can’t get a girl, chifuyu. shut up!”

he goes silent, a slight redness creeping into his skin, “h-hey, c’mon! you didn’t have to point that out!” he says, trying to defend himself.

“besides, one day i’ll get a girlfriend.. just you wait—” he grumbles, looking away.

“yeah, whatever. i would probably be dead before you even can get yourself a girl.”

he goes silent again. his face seems to get redder, his annoyance clear.

“what’s that supposed to mean? you think i can’t have a girlfriend?” chifuyu retorts, annoyed.

he didn’t appreciate you mocking him like that.

“um, yeah. every time a girl talks to you, you chicken out. be grateful that i stayed.”

his face turns to disbelief at your words, still red with anger.

“i chicken out? chicken out?! that’s rich coming from you, who’s too scared to ask anyone out on a date.” he says, not backing down.

“and at least i’m not an introvert who gets anxiety whenever they meet new people, scared of embarrassing themselves and avoiding any and all social situations.” he adds, being as brutal as he can be.

your jaw dropped but you quickly compose yourself. don’t let him get to you just yet!

“h-huh? what do you even know about dating?! i bet i have more chance than you do, chifuyu.”

he chuckles in amusement at your outburst.

“oh you’re just all bark, no bite, (y/n). i’ve been on a few dates, sure maybe none of them really lasted, but at least i’ve been on some. you can’t say the same, can you?”

“and i doubt anyone would wanna go out with a dork like you anyway,” he adds with a smirk.

you had enough. you stood up from the floor of his room and exited the door. wow, so much of a hangout!

“hey hey hey, where do you think you’re going, (y/n)?” chifuyu taunts, standing up and walking towards you.

“the conversation isn’t over yet, now is it?” he adds.

“i’m going home.” you said plainly as you walk down the hallway.

“no, you’re not," he says, grabbing you by the arm and stopping you from continuing your walk.

“who says you can leave now?” he asks, annoyed and determined to carry on with his argument.

you nudged your shoulder, removing your arm from his grasp as you continue to ignore him.

coincidentally, baji came and opened the door. poor guy must be confused to see you leave right after. he stepped aside as chifuyu tried to chase after you.

“hey! what gives you the right to ignore me like that?!” chifuyu shouts, watching you walk out of the front door.

“damn it!” he yells angrily at you as you walk away with your nose in the air.

“way to go, chifuyu.”

“kindly shut up, baji-san.”

the next day at school, you were not in the mood. maybe his words got to you yesterday.

you stare into the void of your locker as you got your books out slowly.

chifuyu notices something is off with you. he decides to walk up to you as he sees you get your books out slowly, looking at you with a concerned expression.

he decides not to bring up the argument you had yesterday, for he knows his words can cut deep sometimes.

“hey (y/n), are you alright?” he asks quietly.

“hm.” you simply hummed in response as you shove your books into your backpack. you adjusted the straps before closing the locker and walks towards your class.

chifuyu follows you. he decides not to follow up with his previous question, and instead makes an attempt at being friendly.

“can i walk with you?”

“sure.”

he walks alongside you, feeling quite uncomfortable with your silence.

“so, um, do you mind if i ask what’s got you so down?” he asks, as he walks with you to class.

“was it that argument we had? or something else..?” he asks again, genuinely curious.

“maybe next time don’t call me a dork when you know i dislike it, chifuyu. i get it, i’m sensitive sometimes but—”

“that was yesterday, is that why you’re pissed at me still?” he asks, not fully understanding the situation.

“besides, i wasn’t being serious, (y/n)! we’re friends, you’re no dork.. i’m sorry okay?” he says, feeling a bit saddened.

“and besides, i like it when you’re sensitive. it’s adorable.” chifuyu says with a small smile. he felt that admitting that is rather embarrassing, but he wanted to reconcile with you.

you paused on your tracks as you look up to him. “did he just.. call me adorable?”

“come again?”

“you heard me.” he smirked.

“you being overly sensitive is such an adorable trait to have. not to mention, i would prefer my future girlfriend to be somewhat sensitive, instead of being a cold and mean person.”

he said it all so boldly that makes your mouth hangs open slightly. your cheeks are betraying you already.

“what..?”

he can see your cheeks getting slightly red tinted now. he was getting flustered himself.

“i.. uh..” he stammers.

“i mean, everyone would want their future partner to be someone they like. and i like you, (y/n).”

“plus, what i said is the truth. people do think you’re cute and adorable whenever you’re overly sensitive. even your anger is adorable.” he adds, giving it his all to persuade you into admitting you like him.

he’s clearly into you now.

and, you have no choice but to answer.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

chifuyu is so cute (i am biased) and a fluffy fluff is what he deserves (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³ i hope you like this one~ all reblogs & likes are vv appreciated!

#🐯 luna writes #🐯 luna's fics #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers scenario #tokyo revengers imagines

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jounolover · 2 years ago

Note

The way u write a Dzai is sooo cute, I just read were Dazai is giving s/o hints. Its so cute it make me all giddy❤💗💗❤💗❤ur so talented ❤

if its okay with u can I request a dating headcanon with Dazai, Ranpo and fyodor (if u write for him) with s/o whose often sent on dangerous missions bc she's one of the strongest member of DOA/ADA/MAFIA.

Aww thank you I’m glad you enjoyed it

Bsd x reader Whos sent on dangerous missions

(Ranpo and Dazai)

This is a old draft I never finished but now I wanted to write something butttt I have no ideas so I’ll finally finish this request. Also Ranpo I had just done and I’m out of the habit of writing so hopefully it’s not bad-

Dazai

He doesn’t like it deep down but he doesn’t let his concern show as to not make you worry about him

He gets better at small medical stuff so he can patch you up when you only have a few cuts and scratches

He’s very gentle when he does so, he also has a neutral look on his face when he does so

There is no teasing within these moments, he trusts that you can take care of yourself and not die but he can’t help but ache when you have an injury

He deeply kisses you when you are off for another mission, he never wants to lose you like he’s lost his past friends

When you are out he usually doesn’t care all that much, he once again trusts your capability to not get killed.

When he is worried though you’ll find him pacing alone in a room away from others, he will not show this side of vulnerability to anyone but you

When you get back from a mission that he was worried about he holds you so gently, as though holding something that could break at an moment.

He’s honest about how he was worried about you, you’ll have to give him many soft kisses and cuddles for the next few days

Scenario

Tired. You were tired. You decided you could just check in at the ADA in the morning, so you went home. You had a minor injuries, a pretty scraped up knee, a small gash on you right cheek, your nose which was bleeding earlier but stopped a while ago, and a few bruises here and there.

Opening the door to the apartment and looking into the dark and cold apartment the only light seen comes from the bottom of the bedroom door. You walk over, the clicking of your shoes alarms the man in the room and the door opens before you even touch the door. “I’m home dear” you smile at Dazai. He quickly glances over your body to check your injuries Before letting out a sigh then meeting you eyes and giving you a smile. “Glad to see you’re in one piece my love” he speaks in his usual voice. He gives you a peck on the lips “come on let’s get you cleaned up” walking out of the room he gently holds onto your wrist and leads to to the bathroom. Sitting you at the edge of the tub Dazai gets the things to clean up your wounds. You two don’t speak as he cleans up your wounds. Once he gets to the cut on your face he speaks “for some reason I was worried about you, i trust your strength with my whole heart but I couldn’t help but be worried” “Osamu…hun” you speak with a soft look on your face and holding his chin to look you in the eyes. He glances up from the cut he was cleaning on your face, his expression softens. Shifting your hand to be holding his cheek he leans his head in your hand for a moment. “I love you so much honey” he mutters before raising his head and putting his focus back to patching you up. Finishing up patching your face you get off of the edge of the tub and sick down to give a kiss you your loving boyfriend. Kissing him on the lips for a moment he sinks into the kiss trying to get it to last longer. Pulling away much to his dismay you speak, “thank you for caring about me”

Ranpo

He trusts that you’ll be okay but he still worries. He tries to cherish every moment with you

He wouldn’t really be one to patch you up but he’d make sure there would be everything you would need to patch yourself up. He’d help if needed though.

If he decides you’re too hurt to just care for you at home he’ll bring you to Yosano instantly and ask her to please be as gentle as she can with you despite her ability.

He’ll give her puppy dog eyes and bribe her

Unless of course he’s far too worried to joke with Yosano, she’d understand his concern for you and not torment you

When you’re out on dangerous missions he’s stressed, eating an extra amount of sweets and extra not doing his work, generally just being an extra menace at work by making others do his paperwork

After a while of being with you and you doing dangerous missions he gets less stressed about it, you’ve been ok all this time he’s more confident you’ll be ok. He give some advice at times if he thinks you’d benefit from it

Scenario

You dropped off at the office first to check in as you only got a few scrapes and bruises. You also thought Ranpo would be at the office but Kunikida said he left early and left all his paperwork for the rest of the office to deal with. Kunikida practically begged you to stay and do some paperwork as your return from a important mission means a lot more paperwork added to the extra work needing to be done. You gave your quick condolences and escaped before you got trapped.

You make your way home, it’s a nice evening. The sun is setting and the sky is full of hues of oranges,pinks, and yellows. Finally approaching the front door of your shared home with Ranpo. Opening the door freely you get one foot into the house before your boyfriend runs and gives you a hug attack. You’re able to stand your ground to the attack, laughing and holding Ranpo up you speak “Hi there honey” he responds with a muffled “hi” as his face is buried into your chest/shoulder. Planting his feet back onto the ground he quickly pulls you into the house and to the living room where on the table takeout of your favorite foods,drinks, and a bunch of snacks. Also on the couch blankets and pillows. All along the way he’s talking, a bit fast at that “ok so I knew you were going to be back so I got us some takeout along with some snacks, as I can’t really cook, but we could watch some movies, eat some food, cuddle, cuddle, and some more cuddles” he states right before dragging you down onto the couch with him and then covering your face with all the kisses

#bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x you #ranpo fluff #ranpo x y/n #dazai x reader fluff #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai headcanons #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bungou stray dogs dazai #ranpo headcanons

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bonefall · 10 months ago

Note

what do you of "the man who sold the world" for fallenleaf? friend is getting me into nirvana and i cant do anything without thinking of the Beasts

Hmm... honestly? I think it fits other characters much better!

Man Who Sold The World always reads to me as like... a dangerous character, could be a demon, could be an evil parent, could be a more literal villain in some kind of story, who has unambiguously gotten its ass kicked and banished. In its defeat, it realizes that it can turn it around; by trying to convince one of their Victims to join them.

And succeeding.

(and it's why Nirvana's version is my favorite, Cobain's voice is just the right amount of hoarse that makes me feel like the Victim Character has lost a lot of sleep over it. Vulnerable and open to the offer of the Villain, possibly on the brink of desperation in their own life. It has that sort of angsty-young-adult madness that makes choosing bad decisions sooo much easier. Bowie's and Ure's versions are also fantastic, but imo they're a lot more dreamlike, like the victim is being more entranced than convinced!)

The song isn't about breaking out of that cycle. It's about "laughing and shaking his hand," returning home almost unaware of any change. But over many years, in tiny little ways that add up into even bigger ones, slowly the Victim becomes another man who sold the world.

They doesn't even realize when they died alone along their quest, just that it must have been long, long ago.

Some of that fits Fallenleaf, but it's not quite the same vibe. She killed Ashfur in revenge. She sought out Sol and took his deal for power, and tried to kill her own brother. She subjugated an entire Ancient Lake society-- and the only thing she can really blame Sol for is how it got bored of her and kicked her out of her own body.

Those were things she did. And they're things she lives with. Trickery was less a part of it than she might have wanted to believe at some point in her long, guilty life.

NATURALLY I'm inspired by Cheecat's really great animation they made with Brambleclaw and Tigerstar, and I think it fits Tigerstar to a T, but who I always think of is Hawkfrost.

Especially in BB, where RiverClan raised him to lean into his legacy. Not Clanborn, from a young age he had to work twice as hard, prove that he and his sister were "worth" keeping around, told that they were only protected by that diluted Tigerkin blood that trickles through their veins and that Tigerstar was an ideal to live up to...

Only the thinnest veneers of, "Be what he was, without his flaws" to hold him back from fully adopting everything his father ever stood for. A father he never met, who hurt his mother, who killed and traumatized countless clanmates.

And then Hawkfrost sees him. The song kicks in. "I thought you died alone, a long long time ago."

"Not me. I never lost control." It means that those "flaws," they weren't so bad. "You're face to face with the man who sold the world" and I can teach you the value of that.

He leaves that exchange feeling warm. "I laughed and shook his hand." He goes through the destruction of the forest (looking for form), the great journey (and land), and eventually finds himself in all the conflicts of TNP. No one knows at what point he stopped being the noble young warrior who stood up for Reedpaw against his tormenters, or when wanting to protect his sister became abuse and belittling.

But at some point, he died alone, long before his heart stopped beating on that stake.

He ends up in the Dark Forest with his father, preparing for the change that's coming in OotS, but not by the end of the song. At the end of the song his father has successfully dragged him down to his level, singing the same tune, trying to pretend that his dad getting him pointlessly shish-kebabed for a petty personal dispute wasn't a critical L to the chest.

#song talk #better bones au #Fennelposting #BB!Hawkfrost #BB!Tigerstar #Local Tumblr sexyman impales self on a stick and has complicated relationship to father. Even goes to hell #explored through song #More at 11

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minghaoyoudoin · 2 years ago

Text

Darling - Epilogue

pairing: mafia boss!hyunjin x mafia boss!fem!reader

genre: some residual angst (very little), smut, sooo much fluff

words: 4.3k

warnings: explicit sexual content, bad language, these two are so stinkin' cute and I'm mad about it (even though I wrote them lol)

a/n: I can't believe this series is finally finished! thank you to everyone who has stuck with it, this au will always have a very special place in my heart. I hope y'all enjoy reading, please leave a like and reblog if you do!

part one here!

part two here!

part three here!

part four here!

You stared blankly into the mirror, taking in your appearance. To anyone else, you were certain you looked the same. Your eyes the same shade, your hair the same length, the small scars decorating your body still ever-present. But you could have sworn there was a newfound glow to your skin–a careful hope in your expression that never would have been there before. And, of course, there was the ring now glittering on your left hand.

Despite what anyone said, there was a freedom that came with revenge. An emptiness, too, though you weren’t keen on evaluating that sadness just yet. Even if you wanted to, the man who had just entered the bathroom door behind you chased any thoughts of it from your mind.

A sly smile crept across Hyunjin’s face when he saw you. His eyes roved over your body, drinking in the bikini you wore through the mirror. He strode forward as if he couldn’t quite help himself, his hands ghosting across your skin while you leaned into his bare chest. He, too, was dressed for the beach, his hair already crusted with seawater and wavy around his face.

Fiji looked incredible on him. You had only arrived here a few hours ago and his skin was already flushed with sun, the salty sea air making his lean muscles glisten with sweat. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You leaned further into his chest, allowing your head to rest on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “We made it,” you said, your voice no more than a sigh. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, directly over the small scar where Mr. Chae’s blank had once fired.

He turned you in his arms so you faced him. You ran a fingernail over the long vertical scar in the center of his chest, the only physical evidence either of you had of that night. The scar had faded over the past four months, though it was still rosy and puckered compared to the skin around it. Hyunjin insisted it didn’t hurt, but you still found yourself being unconsciously gentle when you touched the area. He was completely healed now, aside from the mental wounds left on both of you.

You would never forgive Jihyo. It didn’t matter that she was gone–she had paid the blood debt she’d earned by murdering your father. Somehow, though, you felt that she had left this earth without atoning for attempting to murder Hyunjin, too. It was an itch you couldn’t quite scratch, but your therapist–one Felix had insisted you get–said the feeling would lessen with time. You weren’t so sure, but it didn’t hurt to hope.

Hyunjin seemed to notice the direction your thoughts had taken, because his gaze softened as he ran his thumb over your jaw. “I’m right here, Wife.”

You smiled despite yourself. “I can see that, Husband.”

“What do you say we blow off going back to the beach?” Hyunjin kneaded your ass in his hands, pulling your hips flush against his. Your skin flamed. “I think the guys will be fine building sand castles without us.”

You pretended to consider, pointedly ignoring the half-hard length you felt poking your lower stomach. That was how it always was, nowadays. Hyunjin had accepted your “no sex” challenge all those months ago, obviously convinced you would break before he did. You hadn’t. Even after the doctor had cleared him for sex, both of you had been too painfully stubborn to crack first. It made for a lot of cold showers and restless nights.

Now, the evening of your wedding day, the challenge had officially come to its end at a draw. Hyunjin had a half-crazed spark in his eye at all times, looking prepared to jump your bones at the drop of a hat. You were a little surprised he hadn’t bent you over the second the officiant declared you husband-and-wife.

At your silence, Hyunjin looked close to vibrating out of his skin. You shook your head coyly. “I want to go back to the beach. Lee Know and Seungmin will kill each other if we’re not there to mediate.” Your husband threw his head back and unabashedly groaned.

“Fine. I live to serve you, Viper Queen.” You swatted Hyunjin’s shoulder and he pretended to look wounded. He palmed himself through his swim shorts, grimacing. “I’m almost convinced you’re trying to finish what Jihyo started.”

“Not funny,” you griped.

Hyunjin threw his arm around you, grinning by way of answering, and led you out of the beach cabana the two of you had rented for your honeymoon. You greedily inhaled the warm air, scented with salt and brine, as you walked towards the water. Your residence was on the beach itself, much to your delight, and the second you stepped outside your toes squished between fine grains of white sand.

Just out of reach of the waves, indeed building sand castles, were Hyunjin’s Family. Your Family, you mentally corrected yourself. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face. Your heart felt full to bursting at the sight of them, the air filled with competitive shouts and screams when one of them sabotaged other castles.

You didn’t mind that Hyunjin’s inner circle had accompanied the two of you on your honeymoon. They were, after all, his personal protection detail, and yours now, too. Then there was the fact that they were your best friends, but you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of telling them that.

You and Hyunjin weren’t acknowledged as you settled on the sand a few meters away, you between his legs with your back pressed to his front. Jeongin, foregoing stealth altogether, sprinted to Seungmin’s sand castle and kicked a turret over with a screech of joy.

Seungmin’s head whipped in your direction, his eyes wide with rage. “Did you see that?” He leapt to his feet and Jeongin only had a moment to look panicked before he turned and ran. “I am going to KILL YOU!”

Your laughs mixed with Hyunjin’s, low and warm in your ear. It was the most wonderful sound you’d ever heard. You settled further into your husband, still not able to quite wrap your head around the word.

You’d made it. Both of you. Not only were you in Fiji, the place you had spoken of as an impossible dream for years, but you were married. No longer enemies, no longer king and queen of rival empires, but the royalty of one. Your fathers, for all their sins and flaws, rested easy in their graves.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hyunjin murmured in your ear. You shivered when his warm breath tickled your scalp, raising goosebumps.

“I’m thinking that I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you said without hesitation. “I’m thinking that our friends are idiots, but I love them.” You tilted your head to the side so your lips ghosted across his. “And I love you.”

He shuddered lightly. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing that.”

“GET A ROOM!”

You jumped but didn’t move away from Hyunjin at Changbin’s abrupt exclamation. You smiled into each other, certainly looking like a pair of lovesick idiots to everyone around you. It didn’t matter.

You were here, in Fiji, and for the first time in your life, you believed everything was going to be okay.

~~~

Seungmin, despite Jeongin’s attempt at sabotage, won the sand castle contest. He’d done a victory dive into the ocean, the rest of them following suit, while you cackled and took pictures. You stayed at the beach until dusk, watching the sunset with your Family and eating soggy sandwiches and fresh fruit until you were full to bursting.

The rest of the boys waved goodbye and offered parting hoots and suggestive hand movements when you separated for the night. They were staying in the cabana attached to yours, all seven of them crammed into the three bedroom house for the next two weeks. The only one who didn’t look elated about it was Lee Know.

You released a nervous breath when Hyunjin closed the glass sliding door behind you, blocking out his friends’ antics. You just stared at one another for a long moment, basking in the wonder of the moment.

“Convincing me to marry you wasn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me, was it?” You joked tightly. You had no idea why you were so nervous–it’s not like you hadn’t done this countless times with him before.

Hyunjin smiled, as always seeing your humor for what it was, and jokingly rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes, you’ve caught me. I still hate you and I’m going to kill you while I’m inside you.”

Your mouth dried slightly at his words but you snorted. “You’d have to catch me first.”

Both of you froze. You hadn’t intended to challenge him. You immediately caught your misstep when Hyunjin’s eyes darkened, a slow smile spreading across his face. Your core tightened, both with nerves and excitement as he ran his tongue over his full bottom lip.

“Run.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned and bolted, an exhilarated giggle breaking from your chest when you heard Hyunjin’s footfalls pursuing you. You sprinted around the corner into the hall, nearly knocking a painting off the wall with your shoulder. Hyunjin was giggling too, the sound sweeter than any song you’d ever heard.

You catapulted into the bedroom and, though ending up in that location wasn’t completely intentional, Hyunjin snorted knowingly anyway. You scrambled over the massive bed until you were on its opposite side, bracing your hands on the mattress as you and Hyunjin stared at one another. You were both panting and out of breath from the chase, wide smiles of equal intensity gracing both of your faces.

You feinted to the side as if you’d try to run around the foot of the bed, taking advantage of Hyunjin’s lunge to climb across the mattress again. Unfortunately, despite your flawless battle tactic, Hyunjin didn’t fall for it. He caught you around the waist as soon as you were within reach, effortlessly pulling you down with him until you were flat on the covers, his body half-blanketing yours.

He gazed down at you, grinning and as out of breath as you were. Your breaths calmed, though your smile didn’t fade as you gently trailed your fingertips across Hyunjin’s cheekbone. His skin was smooth and warm, a pretty blush staining his cheeks.

By the time he kissed you, your nerves had quieted. You kissed him back at a languid pace, neither of you battling for dominance or fucking the other’s mouth like you usually did. This kiss was sweet and loving, a promise for a thousand more kisses like it over the decades to come. For once, the thought of spending the rest of your life with Hyunjin didn’t terrify you the way it once did.

Your skin heated against his, your peaked nipples scraping against the material of your swimsuit. You whined quietly when Hyunjin palmed your breast, simultaneously rolling his hips against your core. Your fingers dug into his ribcage then drifted down to his hips, urging him to increase the pace.

After nearly six months of celibacy, you thought you would go insane with your need for him. Hyunjin seemed to share the sentiment, because he loosed an unrestrained moan into your mouth when your hand snaked between you to palm his clothed length. He was already fully hard, an observation which sparked smug pleasure in your chest.

“Not going to run away this time?” He teased against your lips. His tone was strained, shaking with his need to feel you squeezing around his cock. If he wasn’t in your mouth or your pussy in the next five minutes his brain was going to melt out of his ears.

You just moaned instead of verbalizing a response, mostly because the sane part of your brain had already clocked out for the evening. You were going mad with need.

You rolled so you straddled him, pleased by the adoring look on his face as he gazed up at you. Your fingers found the tie at the back of your bikini top, taking your sweet time pulling it loose. Hyunjin growled low in his throat, an obvious command to hurry the hell up. You smiled to yourself as your top fell from you, baring your breasts to him. He wasted no time sitting up so he could suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You both groaned in unison, you at the sensation and he at the taste of your skin.

You ground your hips in slow circles on his lap while he doted on your breasts, switching between them when he felt compelled to do so. He thrusted up against your heat, eliciting moans from your chest. You were already cresting dangerously close to your orgasm and he hadn’t truly done anything yet.

You gently pushed him into a lying position by his shoulders and moved down his body, enjoying the way his eyes focused hard on your every movement. His pupils were blown so wide with lust that only a thin sliver of brown remained. You pressed openmouthed kisses to the skin between his navel and waistband, his knees, the inside of his thighs–you left a love bite anywhere your lips made contact.

He lifted his hips off the bed so you could slide his swimsuit down his legs and his hard cock sprang free, his arousal already gathering at the tip in thick beads. Your inner thighs clenched together, slick enough that you doubted he’d need to prep you at all before he fucked you. Just the thought of the stretch made you dizzy. You were somewhat surprised the two of you had made it this long without exploding.

You experimentally swirled the tip of your tongue across his head. Hyunjin’s hips jerked at once and he released a vulgar moan. He looked so pretty with his eyes screwed shut, his face and chest flushed, that you couldn’t help but moan lightly yourself. You wasted no more time before you wrapped your lips around his cock and hollowed your cheeks.

His fingers tangled in your hair, and you weren’t sure whether he was trying to make you go faster or stop you as you bobbed your head on him. Hyunjin moaned senselessly, his balls already spasming in your hand every few seconds. Each sound he made fueled you to go faster, harder, so intent on making him cum that you could think of nothing else. You willed your throat to relax and ignored your gag reflex with a vengeance when his cock slipped in deeper.

Yet, for old times sake, you released him just as his orgasm threatened to break. Hyunjin didn’t seem surprised, but it didn’t stop him from loosing a frustrated groan when your mouth rose off his cock with a lewd pop. You smiled lazily up at him as he glared down at you, his chest heaving. Even if you didn’t know him so well, you would have known he was close by the tremor in his limbs alone.

You pressed a wet kiss to the inside of his thigh. “Color, Mr. Hwang?”

Hyunjin yanked you onto the bed with enough force that you yelped. You were beneath him in less than a second, his body half-blanketing yours. He shoved your bikini bottoms down your legs and split you with two of his fingers, sinking inside you to his knuckles. You clenched around him instantly, so ready for him that you saw stars the second his fingertips brushed against your g-spot.

He let out a shuddering breath into the shell of your ear at the feeling of you around his fingers. “Green, Mrs. Hwang. And you?” He thrusted his hand for emphasis, his thumb pressing gently on your throbbing clit. You captured his mouth with your own in answer. He didn’t reprimand you for not answering verbally–he was too far gone with desire to bother. Hyunjin just moaned into your mouth at your eagerness, his tongue exploring yours with the hunger of a man starved.

His fingers increased their pace, pounding into you hard enough that all you could do was yelp. Your leg hooked over his, your hand clasped hard around the back of his neck for stability. He watched your face through heavy-lidded eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathering each time you reacted to his movements.

You were lost in sensations. At some point you stopped kissing him, instead pulling him until his forehead pressed against yours. Your lips still touched as you panted into one another’s mouths, catapulting so quickly towards your orgasm that you could barely open your eyes.

“Gonna cum?” His taunting question was weakened by his breathlessness. He was completely enamored by you, by every change in your expression and sound that came from your pretty lips.

“Yes yes yes, please don’t stop–” you chanted. He obeyed, his hand thrusting into your center at a pace that had your knees shaking. His thumb drew tight circles over your clit, knowing exactly the way you needed without having to tell him. Hyunjin was so focused on your pleasure that he didn’t think to edge you as you had him. Instead, he moaned with you as your high crested over you in a merciless wave.

You clenched hard around his fingers, your arousal coating his hand. He didn’t slow his movements, rather attempting to work you through your orgasm as long as he possibly could. After months without this, without him, your body felt like it was consumed by fireworks. He whispered rough praises into your ear as you came down, his hand at last slowing in time with the fluttering of your walls.

The second you were able to form a coherent thought you crushed your mouth against his. Even after the orgasm he had just gifted you, you were nowhere near done. He made a surprised noise into your mouth as you rolled, stopping when you were straddled across his hips.

He traced a gentle finger across the curve of your breast at the same moment he licked the fingers on his other hand clean of your arousal. He held your gaze until every last drop of you was gone. You shuddered, certain your face was dark with lust by the gleam of anticipation bright in Hyunjin’s eyes.

You ground your hips in hard, slow circles over Hyunjin’s cock. Between his wetness and yours, his length slid easily through your folds. You groaned in unison as you rocked back and forth, his tip barely catching in your entrance on each pass. When at last you couldn’t take it anymore, you lifted so you could fit his head into you.

He gripped your hips with bruising force, holding you in place above him. “I’m not going to last long,” he admitted shyly, his voice shaky. You offered him a predatory smile, allowing your intentions to shine on your face.

You slammed down onto him before he could say anything else. Hyunjin’s head kicked back into the mattress, releasing a whine that had your walls clenching again. You stilled, your muscles locking from the shock of taking all of his impressive length so quickly. Neither of you could manage to speak, silently attempting to adjust to the fit without cumming too soon.

When you’d reached your limit, you said through clenched teeth, “Color?”

“Just–” Hyunjin gasped, his eyes closed “–give me a moment.” If you so much as breathed wrong he was going to cum. Somehow, over these months, he’d managed to forget how incredible your tight warmth felt around him.

After what could have been seconds or minutes, Hyunjin exhaled deeply. “Green, baby. Do your worst.”

Thank god.

You lifted until just the tip of his cock was inside you and slammed back down, the stretch making both of you gasp. It didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated, thankfully, and that realization was the only permission you needed to let go. You rolled your hips on him faster, harder, tight whimpers escaping your throat with every stroke. You trailed your hand over the scar on Hyunjin’s chest, pleased at the goosebumps that rose on his skin from the contact.

Hyunjin couldn’t seem to get a grip on himself. He jerked and moaned beneath you, seeming torn between closing his eyes and watching your breasts bounce above him. He sat up abruptly, his hands holding your ass while his mouth found your nipple. He sucked hard, as if to ground himself to reality, and you tugged harshly at the roots of his hair.

He effortlessly flipped you over without removing himself from you. The pace he began was ruthless, far swifter than the one you had set a moment ago. You raised your knees until they were nearly pressed against your chest, allowing him deeper between your walls. Hyunjin’s head fell into the junction between your neck and shoulder, and you groaned when you felt his teeth lightly clamp down onto your skin.

His hips began to stutter, their rhythm losing their usual grace. You grinned at the ceiling, your nails digging harshly into Hyunjin’s shoulders. “That’s it, baby,” you breathed, your impending orgasm taking your breath away. You chased it with lethal focus, your need to cum shuddering through your entire body. “Cum, pretty boy.”

Hyunjin groaned heavily into your hair, raising chills on your scalp. His body locked and he froze, unable to continue thrusting as his high raged through him. The sensation of his cock pulsing inside you pushed you over the edge. You came together, each twitch and pulse only drawing it out longer. He began to lightly thrust again, using your heat to draw every last drop of cum from him.

You tried and failed to catch your breath, tracing the lean muscles in his back as he gradually relaxed on top of you. Hyunjin’s weight was comfortable, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck.

You winced when he removed his softening cock from you, predictably mourning the sensation of being full the second it was gone. Hyunjin gazed down at you with nothing short of adoration on his beautiful face, his cheeks reddened and hair sex-crazed. You smiled softly, allowing your fingertip to trace the shape of his jaw.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Hyunjin kissed you gently, reverently, as he drew you into a sitting position. “And I you.”

He left the bed to retrieve a warm washcloth and some water. His process of cleaning you up was just as sensual as his foreplay, a fact which had you aching for him again far too soon. You shared the water, giggling like children each time you made eye contact.

Hyunjin sighed contentedly as he curled around you, pulling you snugly against his warm chest. You allowed your eyes to fall closed beneath the weight of him, pleased at your ability to relax in his presence.

“We just had sex in Fiji,” you giggled. It still seemed so surreal to you. What you had thought to be your life’s mission was over, and you had come out the other side unscathed and with a husband, of all things. All that was left in front of you were possibilities.

Hyunjin chuckled in your ear. “And we will again.” He pinched your ass for emphasis, eliciting a small squeak from you.

It seemed impossible that the two of you had survived so much in such a short amount of time. You were sure that there would be more dangers to come, given the sort of life the two of you led, but the thought of them didn’t scare you as they once had. Whatever life threw at you, you no longer had to face it alone.

Hyunjin’s Family had a saying, one that meant the Hwang legacy would survive even after the world turned to ash around them. You were the Viper Queen, one of the last surviving members of your bloodline, and you were fiercely loved by a man who stroked the embers in your soul until they turned to flame.

Yeah. You were going to be just fine.

Hyunjin’s lips ghosted across your temple like his thoughts were in line with yours. You turned your head so you could look at him, all too aware your eyes were glistening. His gaze softened as he returned your small smile.

“I’m very glad you’re not dead,” you said quietly. Hyunjin had said something similar once, after you survived your encounter with Mr. Chae. Only now could you understand the overwhelming relief he must have felt back then when you lived.

“So am I. You’re terrifying when I’m not here to check you.” His tone was teasing, though he certainly wasn’t wrong. You were a force to be reckoned with on your best days.

You laughed. Randomly, you remembered that your bedroom bordered the cabana your friends stayed in next door. Hyunjin followed your gaze to the wall and he grinned.

“Think they heard us?” He joked, pulling your body further into him. You both jumped in surprise at the two firm knocks that sounded on the other side of the wall. There were several long moments of shocked silence.

You both dissolved into giggles. They had most definitely heard. Embarrassment surged through you in a rush, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could only imagine how red Felix’s face was right now.

It didn’t matter. You were happy, and you had earned it. Through heartache and pain and struggle, you had battled your way to this moment. Your giggles finally subsided and you stared at Hyunjin, basking in the way he gazed back at you. He was yours, as you were his, and no one in the world could take that away.

“Until the ashes,” you murmured. Hyunjin looked near-glowing with happiness. He pressed another fierce kiss to your brow.

“Until the ashes, Mrs. Hwang.”

they finally got their happy ending 🥹 thank you again for your support during this series, please leave a like and reblog if you enjoyed reading!

masterlist here :)

taglist: @midnightchanis, @aerastus, @a-person-with-void, @xhazmania, @coquette-amor, @lenfilms, @cyder-puff, @mongnara-deactivated20220818, I'm sorry to those of you it wouldn't allow me to tag!

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saphirered · 2 years ago

Note

Heyy!! So lately I've been in a very domestic, fluffy feel. SOOO NOW IM PROJECTING THAT onto this request rq teehee. I was wanting to do one for Percy, with season two out I missed the angsty gunslinger on screen. Set after the campaign, maybe during winter's crest? As of you and Percy coming back to whitestone for the occasion, its decided to round up all of Vox Machina. For a night of fun amongst friends, with a whole lot of ale to go around and stories to tell. Percy seems distant lately, staying more to his workshop and genuinely his own tasks. Not like his workshop isn't already a second room, it's just ODD to say the least. As the day rolls around, everyone starts to arrive at whitestones castle. With happy greetings and laughs, that night's activities begin. To sum it up , Percy proposes to reader. Thinking it would be a nice gesture to pull. Also cause I know this extra bitch would make a ring for you. I know it sounds cheesy but like hear me outtt!! The moment just sounded so sweet to me and I NEEDED to send this in. I'm a sucker for this cute content <3 Byeee Saph!!! :D

A proposal you asked for, a proposal you'll get. Fluff and cheese and all of the things. Sorry for the wait but I hop the 3.6k word count made up for it. Hope you enjoy and thanks for requesting! 😘

“I’ll be right with you, dear!” He’s spoken and shouted those words over the noise of his ongoing projects far too many times. Percy feels somewhat guilty for all but banishing you from his workshop and hiding this one secret project of his. He’s been so caught up in it; it has to be perfect after all. But that did mean he couldn’t spend as much time with you and his mind is elsewhere whenever he does leave his workshop. He’s seen your accepting but sad smiles whenever he wanders off. His heart hurts when he finishes late and you’re already in bed, asleep and alone curled up on your side because he missed yet another dinner. It’s reached the point where he’s been considering just spilling he beans. He doesn’t want to hurt you over some stupid secret but you’re so damn understanding and accepting. Of course you’re disappointed when he does join you for a meal and he informs you he has errands to run and won’t be back until late. You’d simply give him a kiss and wish him good luck. He’s barely seen you outside of your overlapping responsibilities. He just feels bad. But then there’s a breakthrough!

The door to his workshop slams open, or rather off its hinges entirely. Now very few people are able to break a deadbolted several inch thick heavy steel door clean off its hinges and that immediately signals him; it’s not you at that door. Given the shadow that all but blocks the light from entering He knows enough. He’s all but grabbed by the shoulders and lifted from his seat and can barely settle his things before he’s dragged out of his workshop.

“Come on Percy, you’re not going to let us have all the fun, are you?” Scanlan speaks in a sing-song voice when he’s pushed into the hallway and sees the gnome casually leaning against the wall like the arsehole he is.

“I was perfectly content finishing my work instead.” He counters but Scanlan wouldn’t have it.

“We’re having a night out, like old times! Let’s drink dry a tavern! Start some fights!” The gnome tries to persuade him and while anything coming out of Scanlan’s mouth should always be questioned, He can’t help but long for some normalcy. No matter how much he might pretend to hate the ruckus his friends cause which inevitably ended with them getting kicked out of the establishment, district or even city, he likes it and misses it. And before he know it he’s spiralling in memories of you, covering his back while he tries to fight off that minotaur barkeep, and the time where you smashed that stein in pieces thug’s head. He also thinks of the conversations you’ve had, the things you learned about each other, and the sometimes drunken ramblings where your questionable theories actually hold some weight. He misses it all. He misses the glint in your eye right before you’re about to absolutely decimate some card players. He misses your laughter at Keyleth’s horrible jokes, and your caring side when she has a little too much. He misses your little battles of charm with Vex as the two of you attempt to have the group drink for free and negate the expense of the damages done to the establishment or people.

Percy is so caught in his mind that he automatically walks with when Scanlan and Grog begin to move. He doesn’t even put up a fight. He’ll have this one night. He’ll enjoy it. Then he realises how bloody stupid he is.

“Excuse me. I’ll meet you there.” He turns on his heels but comes face to face with Grog’s chest.

“Nuh-uh! Pike said she won’t let us have any ale if we don’t bring you back.” Grog pouts at the thought of being refused ale. No surprise there.

“And what’s your motive?” Percy wonders out loud. He already knows the answer and Scanlan just raises an eyebrow implying the same.

“You really wanna know?”

“Point taken.” Percy shakes his head, takes a step back from Grog but that doesn’t mean he’s not craning his neck to stare up at him. “If you have to come along, be my guest. I just need to get something from my workshop. That is all.” Scanlan shrugs at Grog. Grog shrugs back. Scanlan shrugs again. So does Grog. Percy’s already sick of this so he just starts walking and they follow whispering not so inconspicuously. He still choses to block him out.

Once back at the workshop he engages the safety door; not ideal but at least it wards off snoopers. He walks over to his work bench, sits down and pulls open one of the drawers under it. He pulls out two bands of precious metal, notices they’re a bit dirty and quickly cleans them with a rag. He sees Scanlan peeking around the corner. The gnome knows not to enter his workshop but Grog has no such reservations, not even when he tried to ingest some very caustic materials.

“Ooh! What are those for?” Grog exclaims trying to peak over his shoulder.

“What? What is it Grog? Get out of the way I can’t see. Ugh.” Scanlan tries to look around the goliath blocking his view right now.

“Nothing concerning you.” Percy replies but Grog talks over him.

“They’re fancy rings. Super shiny.” He says and Percy just sighs, pockets the set of rings and gets up walking around Grog and back towards the doorway.

“You’ve been making some jewelled cock rings or something? I might have a commission for ya. Something with diamonds-“ Scanlan keeps going but Percy tunes him out. He’s had plenty of time to practice ignoring the bard after all. They continue their journey to the tavern Vox Machina had chosen.

The Tavern is already lively with people and music by the time they enter. The rest of Vox Machina had already taken up a table and safeguarded it from any thieves with death stares for those who didn’t recognise them. They’d already started dwindling the top shelf by the looks of it. You’re leaning your elbow on the back of Vex’ chair as she plays a game with Keyleth. You point at a card but in doing so, with some sleight of hand exchange it for Vex to gain the better hand. You haven’t noticed him yet, or so it seems. So Percy casually walks up beside you, lets his hand drift to your back to draw your attention and when you look over your shoulder, whatever words he wanted to say, fall completely silent. His lips part but no words leave. You chuckle and rise fully, brush your fingers along his arm and press your lips to his in a greeting.

“Hello to you too.” You grin when you pull back and Percy’s somewhat come to his senses. You pass some coins to Vex who takes them with a ‘thank you, darling’ and keeps playing her card game with the druid.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I may or may not have lost a bet.” You lace your fingers with his and pull him along to the abandoned seats only to see yours has been dragged off to another table. You have half the mind to demand it back but haven’t had nearly enough to drink to start a tavern brawl this early into the night, so you just push Percy to sit in the remaining empty chair and sit yourself down across his lap.

“Do elaborate.” His arm wraps around your waist as you lean over the table to grab the bottle of wine and an empt glass. You pour a drink and hand it to him while Pike slides over your own glass and you wink a thanks. She raises her cup.

“Vex said you’d walk through the door willingly because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. I said Grog would drag you by the back of your coat while Scanlan loudly announced our esteemed presence to this good folk in song.” He gives you a disapproving look. You hide your smile behind your glass. “Oh please, not as if it would have been unlikely.” The look fades very slowly as it only puts more truth to your statement. Were it any other situation he might have been the victim of just such a scene.

“I don’t get it! Why do you always keep winning?” Keyleth hiccups and Pike and you share a look as the cleric quickly takes Keyleth’s cup, downs it, and fills it with water before putting it back in its previous place. You exchange a nod.

“That’s because she’s cheating.” Vex might as well have shot him then and there given the look Percy receives at his comment.

“Are you calling me a cheater, Percy?” Her eyes narrow leading you to interpose yourself between the two; an easily achieved feat given you’re in his lap. You tap his arm, telling him to let it go.

“I’m merely saying you apply different rules to the game than commonly accepted.”

“I knew Vex wasn’t cheating.” Grog mumbles but gets his bubble burst pretty quickly. He still doesn’t get it though. An argument ensues though none of it serious. Keyleth tries to steal a card from the deck using her druidcraft but doesn’t pan out well. To be fair, drunk Keyleth and magic use have not and will never go well together, Voice of the Tempest or not. Before you know it some other patrons rather rudely insists you and your friends take this elsewhere or they’ll make you. You should have known the moment Grog smiled, this wouldn’t end well. And in a matter of seconds a fight ensued. It spread like wildfire like any tavern brawl does. You let them fight it out, stay seated with Percy as you two clink your glasses together.

“So how has your day been?”

“Uneventful until now.” Percy speaks casually. “And yours?” You bite the inside of your cheek in the way he knows you to do when you’re trying to formulate a nice answer as opposed to a more unfiltered one.

“Eventful. Given our friends arrived a couple of hours ago. You’re welcome by the way. I managed to keep them from exploring the clocktower on their own.” You take a sip of your wine.

“Oh thank the gods.” He breathes in relief. You spared him a likely disaster. “How will I ever repay you?” He adds a bit more dramatically. Maybe it’s the wine. You laugh.

“Marry me?” Were he less schooled in proper etiquette he might have spewed across the table. He looks around but no caught on, they’re too occupied in the fight. You’re content being a witness for now it seemed. Percy worries you might have caught on somehow, that you might have figured it out but you don’t let anything show. “I’m joking. Partially. One day. If you ask nicely but for now, think we should help them out?” You gesture to the tavern-wide brawl and save the bottle you two were sharing before someone is thrown onto the table and pummelled right in the face by Pike.

“Yes. You’re probably right.” He blurts out and downs his whole glass. You down the last bit of your glass, a large swig from the bottle and get up. You offer your hand. Percy takes it as well as the bottle as you help him to his feet. He feels like he is going to need that booze to deal with the near heart attack you gave him but before he can take a swig of his own he’s forced to turn the bottle into a weapon. Quickly he turns it in his grasp and hits it over the head of some man charging for the both of you. The man didn’t see the blow coming and glass shatters along with the remaining liquid inside.

“What a waste of a perfectly good chardonnay.” You pout.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He’ll buy you a whole cellar’s worth if you want. He might actually…

“My hero.” You joke pulling Percy aside and aiming a high kick at the face of another drunkard coming for the two of you. You peck his cheeks before the fight continues and you’re no longer able to have this brief bubble of solitude. You’re in the fray now but you’re in it together. Together and you kick some ass. It’s magnificent and just as he had thought, it does feel like old times. You’re having a grand old time. He’s not ashamed to admit you saved his ass when he got a little sentimental and couldn’t shake a certain memory or simply stopped to admire your magnificence.

But all good things get even better when the guard shows up and Vox Machina ends up running like some juvenile troublemakers. The guards didn’t notice who you were and you doubt any of you look like the respected and well known group of heroes in this state and so you took advantage of this. Scram! You ran and enjoyed losing their trail but as a group of stumbling oafs that’s an incredibly difficult thing to do and so you separated. You stuck with Percy pulling him into alleyway and street though he could have pointed out the fastest and quickest way back to the castle. It’s his city after all but he enjoyed living in this moment and when you pushed him against the wall a couple of times pressing close to him while trying to cover your own giggles, you were simply adorable. He was going to make this moment last. By the time you got closer to the castle district you’d been going so long what little booze you had had all but faded.

“So how about we continue this inside over a bottle of true top shelf from Emon? I brought some from my last visit. I think you’ll appreciate the vintage.” The two of you begin to climb the stairs of Whitestone Castle.

“That’s a fantastic idea…” You nod satisfied with his answer. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Percy can feel the blood pumping in his ears, his entire body is pulsing. He feels short of breath, and everything is just chaos but so right at the same time. You look over the city.

“Did you hear that?” You wonder but Percy gently grabs your chin, turns you to face him and standing level with you; the castle to one side, the town to the other. This is it. This is the moment.

“Tonight was quite enjoyable. I’ve missed times like these. My fondest memories are in the trivial things. I couldn’t help but reminisce-“ You smile and bring your palm up to cup his cheek.

“Is that why you almost got a barrel to the head and thrown through a window? Because you got distracted?” You jest and peck your lips to his briefly brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

“I’m trying to say something nice and you’re making a fool out of me.” He returns in jest.

“Okay okay. I’m listening. Please continue proclaiming your undying love for me.” He lets his fingers slip into your hair and gives an ever so light tug. “Oi!” You exclaim and roll your eyes at him but smile. You’ve had your fun. He knows you’re joking but little did you know in part that was very much his intention. The irony. He’ll forever hold it over your head. As you would want and expect him to do. He needs to keep you on your toes after all, or you might accuse him of slacking on the job.

“I’ve not been the partner I should have been for the last few days. I’m aware of my flaws and you have put up with them, you’ve scolded me for them and pulled me out of my own insanities. You keep me walking the path I did not ever think I could. I owe my life, my home, my world to you and I could not ever repay you for what you have given me. I feel my life would be duller without you in it. I’d be lost with out you. Perhaps it is selfish of me to think so but I would love to have you at my side, to be at your side for the rest of our lives.” Rarely does he get you speechless. You always have something to say, some witty remark, some teasing quip or just some input. He’s always welcomed it. He always will but now it is your turn stand there wide-eyed processing his words, lips parted ever so lightly. You had been stroking your thumb along his cheekbone before but your motions had frozen. You try to formulate a response and he awaits patiently.

“If you’re selfish then so am I. Let us be selfish together.” You smile and pull him into a deep kiss. He still hadn’t asked the question he intended to ask but he’ll take this moment. He gets caught up in it for a while until he breaks the kiss. He leans your head against his, reaches into his breast pocket. Your eyes dart to the side but you decide to ignore whatever caught your attention. He takes one of your hands and within it you feel something cold and metal.

“Will you marry me?” Percy breathes. This is not what he intended or how he intended it to go but he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t analyse it to death. He couldn’t plan every single detail. This, this was just perfect. No grand displays, no banquet or a fancy ball. Instead it was a night out with a tavern brawl and a run from the authorities. It was perfect and now here, on the steps of his home, at the root of his life in this moment he entangles it with you.

You look down, at the rings in your hand; two of them, one beautifully detailed but not ostentatious. The set stones are precious and enhance the design. The other is a slightly simpler version, more muted but still beautifully made. You’ve never seen anything like it. They’re unique and that’s when you realise what they’re made from. Your first job with Vox Machina. Percy had given his share to Vex as he always tended to do with his earnings. She resided over the finances. You’d come across a beautifully made silver broach, large and very ostentatious made from platinum and set with the most gaudy aquamarine and diamonds. You’d told him he should keep it; because you thought it matched his eyes and should he ever need a rainy day fund, that piece would make him a king for a day. He’d kept it. He’d kept it all these years. The stones had been cut down to smaller ones and the platinum melted to form the bands. They’re beautiful. They’re perfect and you know Percy well enough he would have trusted no jeweller with this task. He’d have trusted non but his own hands.

“You made these?” You ask enthralled as you pick up the simpler of the bands.

“Yes.” He’s practically shaking in anticipation. You take his hand, and place the ring around his finger.

“If you even for a single second-“ His heart beats so fast he thinks he might pass out. He’d almost be more content facing the Briarwoods as opposed to dealing with this stress.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” Percy feels like he can breathe again.

“Oh thank the gods. I thought I might have fainted.” He chuckles as he takes the remaining ring from your palm and places it on your own finger.

“I’d have caught you.” The image passes through his mind.

“Before or after you had a laugh?” He never said it was a graceful image.

“Can’t have my husband-to-be mess up his handsome face, now can I?” You grin and press your lips to his entwining your hands. That satisfying feeling; of that cold metal against your skin, and feeling it on his, that’s something out of this world you could not have begun to describe.

“Excuse me?! You were going to propose all this time and made us miss like half if it?” Scanlan pushes forward, clothes stained by you don’t even want to know what. “I would have made an awesome show! We could have had fireworks, music, hell, I’d even teach Grog an interpretive dance.”

“Intentrepative what now?” The goliath seems more focussed on the leaking barrel of ale on his shoulder.

“Wait you’re engaged? To who?” Keyleth clearly hasn’t sobered up yet and is leaning on Vex who just pats the girl’s arm.

“Let’s get you sobered up, Keyleth.” She begins dragging the druid past you and up to the palace but not without a quick “Congratulations.” and the implication of leaving you to enjoy your moment.

“I’m officiating.” Pike follows suit and begins ushering the others forward as well. You watch them make their way up the stairs.

“That’s our life in a nutshell, right there.” You claim.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He takes a step forward and your entwined hands urge you to join. You do without a moment of hesitation, unable to wipe that smile of your face. Neither can Percy by the looks of it. That’s okay. You can be fools tonight. You’ll be fools in the morning still and when people come knocking. You’ll tell them to fuck off and be fools a moment longer.

“You sure you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” You ask jokingly.

“Oh yes.” That’ll do.

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