#just gotta fall up 5 flights of stairs to get there

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 4

<;-----part 3, part 5----->

A/N: Making these a little bit longer for you all, enjoy!

Everyone in the Playcare that I walked past stared at me hard. I tried my best to ignore their glances at myself. I didn’t think that I looked that bad, but when I went into the restroom, I saw how wet my clothes looked, even though I did my best to dry myself. My hair looked a little rough as well. No way was I going to work looking like this; I needed to go back home fast and shower. I exited the bathroom and saw Sarah, CatNaps helper. I decided to talk with her first before heading home. 

“Hey Sarah.” She slowly turned towards me and moved her eyes up and down my body before slowly forming a smile. “Haha, what happened to you?” “Oh, just the aftermath of washing DogDay. How did it go with CatNap?” She took out her phone, snapped a picture of me and started texting while answering my question. “It was like fine, I guess. I don’t really wash him ever, just spray him with his lavender scent.” “Okay...well hey when you see him tell him I want an apology for what happened earlier.” I couldn’t tell if she was listening to me or not because she just continued to text on her phone. “Yeah, sure.” I rolled my eyes and started to head over to the cable car before saying something else to her. “Oh, and could you please tell DogDay that I’ll be back later? I gotta go home quick.” “Sure whatever.” I’m not sure how she got hired but I needed to hurry home before Playcare opened. 

--------------- 

I hurried home and threw the wet clothes into the washer and showered. The warm water felt nice, and I no longer felt cold. I finished showering and threw my clothes into the dryer. I had until the dryer stop to redo my hair, should be enough time. The dryer stopped just as I finished my hair. I went to take out the clothes and they were nice and warm. I got dressed and was about to head out before I realized something. I was supposed to smell like DogDay, but I didn’t have vanilla scented softener or soap. Crap. I didn’t want to get in trouble for not having a scent on me, so I decided to use strawberry poundcake perfume. I grabbed my nametag and headband and quickly headed out the door. 

--------------- 

“Wait don’t leave!” I called out but it was too late. The cable car doors had shut and started moving down to Playcare. I groaned in frustration. It took at least sixteen minutes in total for the cable car to go down and come back up. I looked at my phone and saw that I had five minutes to get down into Playcare. I had no choice, I had to take the stairs down. I sighed and quickly headed towards the stairs. 

I underestimated how many stairs there were to get down. I saw how many flights of stairs I had to take. It looked like at least eighteen flights. “Oh boy.” I started making my way down the stairs as fast as I could. The whole time I went down I kept hoping that I wouldn’t fall. Today was just not my day. I was on the last few sets of stairs when I somehow missed a step and fell down a set of stairs. I hated today. The fall didn’t hurt really but I did feel sore. I groaned and slowly got back up and decided to take the last two sets step by step. 

--------------- 

I opened the door that led into Playcare and saw that the lights had turned on. Time for the kids to wake up. I walked over to the Home Sweet Home building, in need of some pain medication. I was about to walk into the building but got scooped up by DogDay. “Angel! You’re back!” He hugged me a held me tightly. “H-hey DogDay!” My body was in a little pain so a hug from someone strong was not feeling the best. DogDay set me down and sniffed into the air. “Hm, I’m smelling something new.” He continued to smell the air and then leaned down and started sniffing me. I hope he wouldn’t be upset that I wasn’t in ‘full uniform.’ “Angel, you smell good! What scent are you wearing?” “It’s called ‘Strawberry Poundcake.’ When I went home and washed my clothes, I forgot that it’s supposed to smell like you, so I just sprayed my perfume.” “I love it!” Good, my boss wasn’t upset with me.  

DogDay asked why I was heading into Home Sweet Home, and I told him what happened, and he started to inspect my body. “Are you okay? Did you get a bruise? You’re not bleeding are you?!” I couldn’t help but smile at him. He was a good friend for being so concerned. I took his paws, held them in my hands, and looked up at him. “I’m okay, my body just feels a bit sore so I was going to see if I could get some pills for the pain.” DogDay sighed in relief and told me how to get to the infirmary. “When you’re done in there head over to the school, that’s where we’ll be at today.” I nodded and went inside Home Sweet Home. 

--------------- 

I got some medicine and started walking towards the school. In the corner of my eye, I saw Damian outside drawing with chalk with CraftyCorn. I walked over to both of them and said hello. “Hey Ms. Y/N.” Damian spoke out. CraftyCorn just shyly waved hi to me. Her voice box was having problems, so they took it out to fix it. “Whatcha doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside with me and DogDay?” “Yeah, but I did well on an assignment, so Miss Delight gave me a pass to miss the first ten minutes of class. CraftyCorn will keep an eye on me.” He went back to drawing and CraftyCorn gave me a look that said, ‘He’s in good hands.’ “Okay well I guess I’ll see you inside in a bit.” He nodded and continued to draw as I headed inside. 

I found DogDay and he grabbed my hand and led me into the classroom. “Why hello there Y/N! DodDay here has told me so much about you!” The teacher who I’m guessing was Miss Delight spoke so cheerfully to me. She looked like a tall Barbie doll. “Nice to finally meet you Miss Delight. DogDay has also told me a lot about you.” She shook my hand and then turned to face the class. She clapped her hands to get the children's attention. “Alright class listen up! We have a new person joining us here today so please give a warm welcome to Miss Y/N.” In unison the kids said, “Hi Angel!” Miss Delight stared at them in confusion but me and DogDay laughed. 

--------------- 

Me and DogDay sat in the back of the classroom while we watched Miss Delight teach the kids about multiplication. The door to the classroom opened and in walked Damian. CraftyCorn was right behind him and stood in the doorway. “Ah welcome Damian! Thank you for looking after him Crafty!” CraftyCorn nodded and smiled before closing the door and walking away. Damian took his seat at the front and Miss Delight continued with her lecture. 

--------------- 

The bell rang and it was now lunchtime. The kids lined up and DogDay and I led them to the cafeteria. “You feel better Angel?” “Yes, I am thanks for asking.” DogDay smiled and we continued to lead the children into the cafeteria. 

As we entered the cafeteria, I spotted KickenChicken. He started walking towards us but then DogDay picked me up and started heading out of the room. “C’mon Angel let’s get some fresh air, plus there’s something I need to tell you.” I didn’t argue with him and let him carry me outside.  

We made it outside and he sat me down and sat on his hind legs. “You know the little girl wearing the overalls today? Her name is Darla, and I was told that today is her last day here in Playcare.” When DogDay spoke, he sounded a little upset. “That’s good, isn’t it?” “Oh yes, it is Angel, but it always makes me sad when someone from my group gets adopted.” That’s understandable. He’s been with them forever and now they get to leave, and he stays here, forever. “Well, I say you go back inside and spend as much time with her as you can today, and we’ll worry about her leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to see you sad right now, especially since you’re with your Angel.”  

I laughed playfully and DogDays ears perked up. “Haha. You’re right. No need to feel sad when I’m with you.” We looked at each other smiling before DogDay cleared his throat and stood up. “Wanna head back in?” “In a moment, just need to re tie my shoes.” DogDay nodded before saying “Don’t be too long Angel!” and he went back inside the school. My face felt a little warm when he said that. I might need to get my temperature checked later. I tied up my shoes and got up to head back inside before I spotted the drawing that Damian did. It was DogDay, me and him all holding hands. Above us was the word ‘My Family.’  

A/N: Next part will include more of DogDay and you talking. Thank you for the comments in the last part!!

[yurinaa-world]

hello, can I request Jing Yuan, Caelus and Welt with an injury prone reader who constantly hides and dismisses their injuries? (Getting hit by falling objects, being the unfortunate victim of harsh attacks, Getting shoved down a flight of stairs by accident or tripping over objects)

Despite the fast reflexes developed to avoid a good chunk of injuries, they still get hurt to the point of needing medical aid (bloody head, heavy bleeding ext.) and are unable to tell immediately due to their high pain tolerance. Even then, reader avoid being healed like the the plague and running off to tend to their injuries on their own. If they wake up in a hospital, they will sneak out of said hospital and dismiss concerns of their Injuries when found.

Reader will say "oh its just a scratch" as if their arm hadn't been nearly mauled by a bear.

Thanks,

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, and Welt yang x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader who get injured easily, but dismisses it

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds/injuries

Notes: sorry I don't write for Cealus so I replaced him with Dan Heng if you don't mind

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’ve been avoiding him for a while; anytime you see him around the corner, you run the opposite way. You were injured from a pretty nasty fight with monsters, but knowing Jing Yuan, you would have to wait a good 5 hours to heal up properly so he wouldn’t notice the injury and force you into the hospital, and you would rather deal with it yourself. One thing is that he doesn’t take your word on you dismissing your injuries. Don’t believe he doesn’t notice since you always do the same thing when this happens.

You also go to the guest bathroom to stitch and clean yourself up properly, especially making sure that the servants won’t tell Jing Yuan, yet some little stitching does. You might as well go through the guest window instead of the door (which you did go through a handful of times).

You have to clean the evidence, like scrubbing down everything to make sure not even a drop of blood is left behind, and burn the cloth that had all your blood on it along with stings and needles used for your stitches (anything you used to clean your wounds).

All that’s left is to face him, which is another annoying problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You lay back against the headboard of your shared bed. stretching your shoulder and sighing, feeling the little sting from the stitches that you did yourself for a couple of hours. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Jing Yuan asks while reading his book.

He didn’t even glance up from the text in front of him. You looked down at your shoulder, the very tint of where the stitches are. “Oh no, I’m fine, just stiff is all." “Are you sure?" "yeah,” you nodded, sweating a little.

"I didn’t see you today,” he commented, saying it in an unusual tone that made you look over at him. It was an expression you never thought he would wear—blank, almost mad, or not wanting to say anything.

“Ah, I stayed home,” you replied, looking away. “The servants informed me that you went out and then came back home bloody.” Oh, you gotta be kidding about those damn snitches!

you thought, but instead just smiled nervously at Jing Yuan. He finally closed his book and looked up at you, his gold eyes freaking at you.

“well?”

"I tripped!"

“You can’t fool me," he stated flatly, crossing his arms around his chest and face and switching to his smirk, making a whole change in the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Fine," you huffed, rolling your eyes. "I got a little hurt and fixed myself with stitches. “I’m perfectly fine, though!" You added trying to play off your injury.

“What shall I do with you? Maybe tie you up?”

“Tie me up?! Over this!”

“Sounds fitting for you.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You avoid everyone like plague and stay in your room, locking your door and not letting anyone in. It takes you such a long time to stitch up and clean up your wounds. If March knows, and even if you asked her to keep it away from Dan Heng,  she just can’t keep her mouth shut.

Whenever you do get hurt in front of him, you immediately tell him you're fine and avoid any help from him, even if you look like you got jumped by 15 different people.

There have been times you forgot to lock your door, which happens when you run into your room cleaning up your very messed-up wounds without more of your blood ruining your floor.

But also the part about having a big mouth and your door being unlocked—yeah,  him seeing your trashy, shaky hand trying to stitch yourself up freaks him out that he has to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You groan in annoyance, sitting at your little two-seat table, medkit on your table, trying your best to pull string in the skin of your arm without causing more damage than necessary. needle going through your skin with the rest of the string in your mouth. Your lips tug on the thread, and you feel the tug in your teeth.

“What are you doing?” You hear Dan Heng say something, making you stop in your tracks as you attempt to pull the string out of your mouth. You sigh, turning around to face Dan Heng. "Uh, Dan Heng, what are you doing here?" you sweat. “March said you weren’t feeling well and I should check on you; it looks like she’s right." stupid march! “You don’t need to bother,” yet he doesn’t listen to you.

He goes over to your chair beside the one you were in, pulling it up so that he is sitting next to you, taking your arm with trashy stitches on it, removing it, and cutting it off for a fresh new start.

"You shouldn’t have the string in your mouth; germs could transfer to the wound and give you an infection.”

He scolded gently, cleaning up the wound, taking the string, and gently taking your arm, slowly taking the needle and gently pulling it through your skin, being careful not to tear the flesh.

“Dr. Dan Heng, you really do know everything." You laugh slightly while watching him work his magic on your arm.

“Dr. Dan Heng? It’s good to know about this stuff when it comes to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He completely fixes your arm, and you look at your cleaned arm with an impressed look.

“Thank you, Dan Heng.”

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

You worry a lot about him; you can’t even hide it or play it off with him; he can just see the slight change in your body, your stunning white walking, or how you clutch at your shoulder and go to change bandages, and even more blood starts to soak out.

While you are sleeping together, he wakes up to a weird feeling, turning the lamp to see a little pool of blood by the shoulder and the shoulder of your clothes, also stained in crimson red, while you look so uncomfortable by the wet feeling.

He wakes you up, and you fix up while you're still half asleep, not knowing what’s even happening as he cleans the sheets, wounds, and clothes to make sure your blood doesn’t leak out again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[solargeist]

What the relationships between different Hermits and Kid Xelqua are like:

POSITIVE!

Mumbo - Pretty positive all things considered. He manages to entertain him, and generally is a good uncle figure.

Scar - The favourite. Scar gives him unlimited access to snacks and all sorts of unhealthy food (much to Grian’s chagrin). Once gave him so much sugar, Xelqua entered a 5 hour long sugar rush. Grian still hasn’t forgiven him yet because it was an absolute nightmare.

Doc - Surprisingly positive. Despite Doc’s turbulent relationship with Grian, Doc has a soft spot for kids. He’ll drop any kind of tension when Xelqua’s around to not worry him. He’ll still absolutely body Grian, but usually when Xelqua isn’t looking.

Pearl - Due to her leniency, Xelqua likes her. He can get away with anything when she’s around and generally doesn’t impose any harsh rule of punishment on him

Etho - He just thinks Etho is cool (usually because he keeps maple candies in his pockets). An Ethogirl in the making.

NEUTRAL!

Joe Hills - He’s a living Sesame Street styled puppet and Xelqua keeps mistaking him for a normal puppet toy. He once nearly suffocated poor Joe by hugging him a little too tight around his neck.

Xisuma - Barely sees him and for good reason. Xisuma has enough on his plate as admin, he doesn’t need to have to add “babysitting a god” on his plate as well.

Impulse & Skizz - They help Grian out occasionally to watch over Xelqua. Typical fun uncles you can find, but Xelqua doesn’t know much about them or why Skizz gives him the heebie jeebies when he unfurls his Angel wings or when Impulse reveals his full demon form.

Gem - Like Impulse and Skizz, generally friendly with Xelqua, but he’s unsettled by her, but he doesn’t know why. Maybe he senses that Gem isn’t truly a deer satyr and something to do with the rustling in the forests and night and the lingering smell of blood on her.

NEGATIVE…

Cleo - She’s scary to him. Like how you would be scared of the principal when you were a kid in elementary school.

Cub - All the fireworks he uses this season are too loud for him. He has to cover his ears everytime he has to go near the shop.

Joel - Xelqua keeps walking in in Joel in the most embarrassing moments. Like seeing him cry in front of the statue of his wife because she isn’t in the server, falling down an entire flight of stairs, reading Iskall’s creepy Yandere letters, etc. There were several moments where Joel had to cover Xelqua’s mouth because he was about to air all his dirty laundry.

AKDNDJSKAK

of course Scar is the favourite, Xelqua would love his builds, he’d like the animals and Scars silly voices and rambles. He’d also love Scar’s off road wheelchair/ATV, it’s so fast ! He’d absolutely eat all of Scar’s snacks, he’d be talking a mile a minute when Grian shows to pick him up, he just silently glares at Scar.

I love when people draw Doc with Doccy on the server, just a big scary goat and his little goat kid, it’s why he has a soft spot around Xelqua, he’s so tiny. Tho I can only see them interacting if Xelqua accidentally ends up in his base area, got lost maybe. I think Xelqua wouldn’t be scared of Doc despite his looks bc 1) he looks like Scar’s zoo animals (big Goat) and 2) Doc has a kid too, so he’s gotta be safe. Grian is very confused when he sees Doc calling him.

The Joe Hills part almost made me choke AKDNDKSK Joe being a puppet is my favourite design it’s so silly. Xelqua watches a lot of TV, he’d be in awe… so happy to see a real life puppet… Grian has to grab his hands to stop him from choking Joe out.

I think Xelqua would just be intimidated by Cleo at first, he’d warm up to her ! Him being scared of Cub bc of the fireworks is so true tho, Xelqua very much hates the noise and is actively afraid of thunder, he’ll wake Grian up if a storm rolls in at night, and probably hide behind him if a firework went off and no one told him it’d be so loud !

poor Joel 😭😭⁉️⁉️ tho if Joel grabbed Xelqua and covered his mouth like that, Grian is immediately there, he crosses the room so quickly man Watchers don’t play around abt their kids 😭💥 Grian doesn’t even realize he moved or separated them, for a split second his brain didn’t see this as a joke or playing around. Joel gets to see those purple eyes up closeeee and shouts

this was very cute and silly to read ehehehe, also for some reason I think Xelqua would think that Xisuma is Grian’s uncle, no idea how he came to this conclusion.

[sturniololoco]

Big Game pt 5

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x Nathan Doe

Warnings: blood, vomit, falling, etc.

Nate’s POV

The front door slamming jolts me from my slumber, my arms still around SLS/N’s torso, who had also woken up. 

“Yo Nate! You good Man?” I hear Chris’s voice shout from downstairs, footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“Shit! Go to the bathroom and turn on the shower!” I whisper yell at her.

She scrambles out of bed, sprints to the bathroom and slams the door. I hear the shower turn on just as my bedroom door opens.

I pull out my phone, trying to act nonchalant, but feel my hands get sweaty and my cheeks turn red.

“Hey man, how ya feeling?” Chris asks me, walking over and ruffling my hair.

I swat his hand away, saying, “I feel fine, my nose is a little sore though.” 

I was a little sore in other places too.

-

SLS/N walks down the stairs with damp hair the Triplets and I sit on the couch scrolling on our phones.

"Hey, boys," she says, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek in turn. They all smile and say hi in return.

She comes and sits between Chris and me, tucking her knees up under her.

"I was thinking about going to the warehouse today, you all up for it?" Nick asks us. we all nod our heads in agreement, getting up to get ready.

-

The car ride was the same as last time, filled with butterflies and red cheeks. Only this time, we secretly held hands between our touching thighs.

After Matt parks the car, SLS/N and I climb out my side of the car. I grab her hand and help her out. She looks up into my eyes and smiles, her cheeks getting more rosie by the second.

"Aw! Nate the gentleman!" Chris says, laughing at his own joke.

Or what he thought was a joke.

SLS/N and I let out a forced laugh before following him into the warehouse.

-

There were many fun things to do inside, but the one thing that we drifted to, was the ping pong table.

it started off with Chris and I playing, SLS/N watching, and keeping score. But then Chris had to get a Pepsi, so she took his spot.

this turned into us playing for another 30 minutes, laughing and giggling at each other's antics.

we only took a break when Nick called for SLS/N upstairs to help him move merch. I sat on the couch with Matt and waited for her arrival.

Chris had different plans.

Just as he heard SLS/N's voice getting closer to the stairs, he ducked behind the stairwell.

As she started descending down the flight of stairs, Chris jumped out, shouting at her. Scaring her.

The next part happened too fast.

SLS/N jumped, her foot slipped and she rolled over her ankle, falling. As she hit the floor, the back of her head made hard contact with the stairs above her.

I heard her cry out in pain, Chris scrambling up to help her. As he helped her sit up, the stair she hit her head on had blood on it.

before she could fully sit up all the way, she quickly leaned over and puked right onto the stair next to her.

She's gotta have a concussion.

When she was finished, Chris and Matt tried to help her stand up, but as she put weight on her ankle, she screamed in pain, falling again.

"Nick, call 911!" I shout, rushing over to her and kneeling in front of her. Matt and Chris helped her sit down again.

She grabbed the back of her head sobbing. I pulled her limp body into my chest and waited for the ambulance to come.

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

[dream-meister-translations]

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X BETA - PART 7

━

After school, Wonder takes the train to Shibuya where he meets up with Ruferu.

RUFERU : You finally got here. I’ve been waiting forever….

RUFERU : You bag’s always empty, that makes it nice and cozy to hide inside.

RUFERU : You gotta pretend like nothing is about to happen. If the target catches on that you're here, you’ll only put ‘em on high alert.

WONDER : What are you talking about…?

RUFERU : I’ll explain as soon as we’re alone. For now, eyes up.

Wonder obeys without a word, watching on as an older Japanese businessman barges past a young girl before shoving another one out of the way. The second cowers from the man until he raises a fist, prompting her to flee. 

RUFERU : That guy’s our target. His name is Takeyuki Kiuchi.

RUFERU : As far as public perception goes, he’s just your everyday businessmen working in Tokyo.

WONDER : What is he doing?

RUFERU : He’s what I like to call a “hit and runner”.

RUFERU : He intentionally uses his body to bully around women who are unlikely to resist, all to satisfy some sick fantasy of control.

RUFERU : So you see, he’s actually quite an immoral human being.

WONDER : A cunning fellow…

RUFERU : I agree.

RUFERU : Though his actions are manifesting in reality, the underlying cause lies in the other world.

RUFERU : You understand what I’m saying, right?

WONDER : The answer can be found in Kiuchi’s shadow, huh?

RUFERU : That’s right. However, I’ve been unable to track down his shadow, so it’s all just speculation at this point.

RUFERU : On the surface, his actions appear innocent enough.

RUFERU : So long as his behaviour can be passed off as an accident, the police will continue to look the other way. 

RUFERU : Meanwhile, his victims quickly give up on pressing charges because as far as they’re concerned, nothing can be done. But it’s slowly draining on their hopes and dreams… Their positive desires…

RUFERU : Though, a more accurate way to say it, could be that Kiuchi is stealing the positive desires of others through his maliciously selfish actions.

WONDER : Then let’s go put an end to this right now.

RUFERU : There’s nothing we can do when his Shadow is out of control in the Metaverse.

RUFERU : He won’t even hear you out.

RUFERU : It’s ironic, but as long he perceives these hit and run assaults as justified in his own mind then he won’t stop.

RUFERU : That’s why we need him to overwrite his own perception.

As Ruferu explains the situation to Wonder, another teen girl arrives from the train terminal. 

RUFERU : And that’s not the worst part…

Takeyuki Kiuchi, who has been scanning the station carefully, soon catches sight of the girl.

WONDER : He’s targeting someone else!

Sure enough, the man crashes his body into the young girl who stumbles forward, losing balance, only to be caught by Wonder.

Seeing this, the man immediately takes flight, leaving the confused girl to right herself and look around for her attacker.

WOMAN LOOKING AT HER PHONE : What the-- Can’t he just…

She stops what she’s saying and brushes herself down before leaving the train station. As Wonder watches her leave, Ruferu speaks proudly.

RUFERU : To stop other people from acting on their selfish desires with righteous indignation. That. Is what it means to be “Awakened”...

RUFERU : Ah, dammit, looks like we caught Kiuchi’s attention, we should get out of here.

As Ruferu says this, Wonder seems to get a vision of the future. In the vision, Kiuchi spots a woman pushing along a stroller, and immediately slams himself into her.

The woman screams in panic and pain before losing her balance and falling down a flight of stairs, stroller in tow...

━

WOMAN : Ah!

MAN : Are you okay!?

PANICKED WOMAN : Her baby! Where’s her baby?!

OTHER MAN : I’m afraid it’s too late…

━

The vision ends without providing any clear answers. 

WONDER : I-I think I just saw something…

RUFERU : What do you mean?

RUFERU : You look like you’ve seen a ghost… Maybe you haven’t fully recovered from your Awakening just yet…?

RUFERU : In any case, we need to leave. Kiuchi’s still watching us.

RUFERU : We should head to the plaza out front. You know where we first came out of the Metaverse together?

Exiting out the terminal, Motoha spots Wonder.

MOTOHA ARAI : Wonder…? What’s he doing in Shibuya…?

MOTOHA ARAI : Did he say something to that guy…?

MOTOHA ARAI : W-Wait… That’s…

Motoha’s train of thought is cut off when Tomoko arrives.

TOMOKO NOGE : Sorry! I got delayed on my way out of the station… My monthly pass doesn’t seem to wanna work…

TOMOKO NOGE : What’s wrong?

MOTOHA ARAI : Nothing. We still on to go to the underground mall here at the station?

━

Meanwhile, outside the station…

RUFERU : We should be clear now.

RUFERU : I know you’ve got a lot of questions for me, but you at least understand what I’m saying, right? It’s nigh-on impossible to stop Kiuchi in this reality.

RUFERU : It’s like I said earlier, even the police find it difficult to take action against him.

RUFERU : ��Because even members of the police force are having their desires stolen…

RUFERU : In this world, it is basic human nature for people to come together in unison to find solutions to such problems.

RUFERU : However, even this instinctually collective desire of humanity has been exhausted…

WONDER : So what are we supposed to do about it…?

RUFERU : There’s only one thing to do…

RUFERU : We have to go to the Metaverse and steal something from Takeyuki Kiuchi. 

RUFERU : That is to say… Become a Phantom Thief.

[thomase1]

Two broken make a whole; chapter 2

Series masterlist Full masterlist

Took me long enough to update, I know. Just have not ended up the happiest with this chapter and ended up overthinking it. Sorryyy 💜

I did get some help though.

Thank you @crzyplantladyvibes for your incredible help! I dont think this would be postable if it werent for you!

Warnings: talk of past mission, talk of past injury, Tony beeing a bad teammate, humour, angsty thought and feeling from our girl. We will be starting to cut into her past.

Wordcount: ~2.300

Deviders by @harlequin-hangout

The days following Thor and Loki’s arrival were relatively quiet. You didn't see them around much and soon you had to go on another mission. It would be an easy one, just some undercover work to get data from an organization trying to bring down the whole justice system.

As is often the case, it sounded more exciting in the briefing than it actually was in the field. After hours of surveillance, you were beginning to regret the career choices which landed you here, bored as heck, sitting at a window with Clint, not that you mind missions with Clint. He is competent and pleasant, but Tony, on the other hand, that’s another story.

He was supposed to be your ride along today, but 'thankfully' Pepper broke her arm by falling down the stairs. Not that you didn't feel bad for her, but if Tony had come along, you might have broken his. On your last mission with Tony, he’d bossed you around while frolicking about in his suit, not even bothering to tell you about the group of Chitauri heading straight for you. You were left fighting 8 Chitauri, Tony's cocky remarks about your defense ringing through the comms, only stopping when you nearly got killed. He didn't just take them down and get on with it, oh no, not Ironman. He had the audacity to make a show out of it, pirouetting around and landing with a bow while you had a bullet shatter your shin. You would have killed him on the way back home if you hadn't been in so much pain, because even then he didn't stop; no, he told you it was your fault for not paying attention to your surroundings! He, who was 30 feet in the air with a perfect view of everything, told you, who was down, enclosed in the forest, you did not pay enough attention to your surroundings. After two surgeries and 5 months off missions, when you finally recovered you avoided missions with Tony.

You rested your forehead on the windowpane and groaned. After 12 uneventful hours, even Clint ran out of easy going jokes, the both of you so bored you could barely stay awake. Thankfully, around hour 15 you finally spotted your target. In a matter of minutes, the 2 of you subdued the target, used his fingerprints to access the building, hacked the mainframe, obtained some vital intel, and planted a crippling virus. One short flight later and you were back at the tower; you weren't even gone a day.

Back at the tower, you’d wandered to the common room for some water and a post-mission snack when you spotted Thor.

"Hey Thunder, you all settled in yet?". You walked up to him, giving him a small side hug.

"I am indeed. I even got a chance to talk to Jane." He smiled from cheek to cheek, and you elbowed him affectionately.

"Awesome! What did she say? Did you talk it through?"

"Yes”, he nodded enthusiastically. “She’s even letting me take her out to dinner tomorrow!"

"Daaaamn, what do you have planned?", you plopped on the couch, looking at him expectedly.

"Well, I- must admit I did not think that far ahead.", he mumbled, sitting down too.

"What? Dude, you gotta choose a restaurant at least! This is New York, all the good ones are probably booked already! What does she like?"

The chances of him getting a table at a good restaurant, in New York, on a Saturday at dinner time are slim. Even as Thor.

"Pizza! And pasta. And those little doughy triangles filled with... stuff.". He was thinking so hard you could almost see his brain spasming.

"Samosas, got it. So, Indian and Italian food. Alright. What time do you guys meet?"

"7:30." He answered and you got your phone out, already looking for restaurants. After a lot of calls, pleading and the exaggerated use of Thor's name, you got them a reservation at a highly rated Italian place. Giving him the address, you continued,

"And what will you wear?"

"I do not know. But I am guessing my usual attire is not suitable."

"No, as much as I love your Asgardian battle armor, which isn't really a date night outfit. Do you own a suit?"

"I used to, but I sold it at the charity event," he hangs his head.

"Ah, yes. Well, you need a suit. You’ll have to buy one, which, with your physique, it could be challenging to get one off the rack."

"I could ask Loki to conjure one for me."

"Oh, right, he can do that too- ok, so that's settled." Caught off guard by the mention of Loki’s name, you thought, shit, I really need to do something about this growing interest in Loki.

 “Thank you for your help with the restaurant. I will go see Loki about my suit. I can’t wait to see Jane tonight.” You murmured an appropriate response of some kind, distracted by imagining Loki in a well-tailored suit. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and made your way to your room for the evening.

                   

The next day passed slowly as you updated mission reports. Clint didn’t help with any of the documentation, but he was a pleasant distraction with his jokes and stories. You stared at your computer, bored out of your mind.

"Miss L/n, mister Odinson requests your presence in his quarters", Jarvis announced.

"Oooooh, did I miss something?" Clint teased, making a kissy face. You slapped his arm.

"No, stop it! He is taking Jane out to dinner today, I bet he wants my opinion on his suit." You got up, hearing a "Yea sure! Use protection!" behind you.

"Shut up Katniss!", you shouted back. As soon as the elevator doors opened to the living quarters, you heard shouting.

"I asked you to give me a suit! This is not a suit!", Thor shouted.

"I thought you wanted something that fits you, I gave you just that!", Loki retorted sharply. You walked faster, fearing an escalation.

"So, this is what you think of me? I look as if I've been through a cheese grater!" You heard something break which had you sprinting through the corridor.

"Stop breaking my things! I just got that table!", Loki yelled, really fired up.

"Don't act like you can't conjure another one right now!" You arrived at their sitting area and ran through to Loki’s room.

"Stop fighting guys, what's the- What the hell?", you questioned, seeing splinters of wood strewn throughout the room and Thor clothed in God-knows-what. It's just a shirt and jeans, but with more holes than fabric. You don't even know where Loki got that outfit inspo from. Half his ass is hanging out from the pants!

"Look at this abomination of attire!", Thor whines, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

 "Yea that's not... Please, can you give him a suit? It's really important.", you plead with Loki. He looks so handsome with his hair freshly washed, all floofed up. You bit your lip subconsciously as you took in his forest green tunic and dark pants, which clung to him in just the right places. He follows your gaze, smirking devilishly, making you drop your eyes to the floor, cheeks heating up ferociously. Your blushing went unnoticed by Thor, but Loki had seen it and mentally cataloged it as something to explore further in the future.

"I think I can do that, Agent.", he looks at Thor and with a single hand movement and a green spark, Thor is wearing a suit. Only...it’s the ugliest suit you've ever seen. It's neon yellow with a checkered pattern and a blue dress shirt underneath; the clashing colors are awful.

 "What is this yellow monstrosity?! Change it, right now!", Thor bangs his fist into the wall, putting a crater into the solid bricks.

"Hey! Stop it, you buffoon!", Loki spits, rage flaming in his features, though you wonder why he is mad. He is the one fucking around with Thor’s patience.

"Thor! Tony is gonna kill you, please, calm down. We will solve this just- please stop destroying things. And you'', you turn assertively to the angered Loki, "give him a nice suit. This is important for him; can't you just help him?"

Both of them look at you like a deer in the headlights.

"Fine.", the blonde haired god calms down, "But he will change me this instant. And properly this time.", he pouts. Loki sighs loudly.

"Alright.", he snaps his wrist again and Thor wears another suit, "Happy now?". You give Thor a once over, considering the new attire. It's a perfectly fitted, cool toned grey suit, with a light blue dress shirt and deep blue tie.  

"Very nice. Blue is a good choice, goes well with his eyes. Thank you."

Thor pats himself down, feeling the fabric,

"Thank you, brother. This one is rather nice."

The raven haired god nods,

"Very well. Would you mind? I have some renovations ahead.", he gestures to the door.

You tug at Thor's arm, steering him towards the door, "Bye Loki.".

"Goodbye, Agent.", he smirks, closing the door behind you.

After that you helped Thor prepare for the date, reassuring him. You sent him to the florist across the street, telling him to get a bouquet of whatever flowers he thinks she might like. He came back with powder pink roses.

Finally back in your room, you flop onto your bed and your thoughts begin to spiral down an unwelcome path. You usually try to stay busy, but sometimes you can’t stop the questions. There is just so much about your life you don't know, don't remember. Will you ever find your story, or will you die, taking the uncertainty to the grave? You've done what you could, tracing back the steps. but it only brought you back to hydra. Going back to the hydra facility you’d called home was a bust; it was completely vacant. No traces left behind, only the card deck you and the others used to entertain yourselves with.

When it was finally time for him to go, you went over everything again, adjusting his tie and reminding him of the address to the restaurant. You've got a good feeling about this; Thor and Jane are good people. They are heroes. They deserve to be happy.

You long for more than boring missions and futile searching into your past. When will you finally allow yourself to feel loved? It’s stupid, making yourself suffer, trying to pay the price for the path left behind. You know your lonely penance won’t change a thing, but getting to live a life filled with love just feels wrong. After all you've done, it's simply not right; you don’t deserve happiness.

You wonder what happened to your few friends back at hydra. Were they killed because of you? Because you choose life? Maybe you don't want to know. The slip-n-slide of overthinking got you again and you know, if you don't get off that ride right now, you won't be able to stop for hours.

You decide to text Taylor and Kenma, your two best and only friends, outside of the tower at least. Taylor does not take long to respond but declines, saying Sean, his boyfriend, had already something planned for today. It's a common occurrence, ever since they started dating, meeting him became a rare occurrence. Sean is a horrible person, but Taylor loves him far too much. He just can't get himself to end things.

A bit later, Kenma texted back but she is at work, nightshift. Damn it.

"Jarvis, who is in the Tower right now?", you say to the ceiling.

"Mister Laufeyson is in his private rooms, Doctor Banner is in his laboratory alongside mister Stark."

"Ask Stark and Banner if it's alright if I join them, please.", you sigh.

You really hoped Nat was home, or that either Scott or Clint was here since they never fail to crack you up.

"You are welcome to join them."

"Thanks Jarvis."

In the lab, you find them bickering about technology to add to the suits of some teammates, including you. So, in the end, you put in your suggestions too, helping create them.

Yours got more protection, it's fire resistant now and has even more pockets to store little items in. And they even built in an extra one for throwing stars, your "last resort" weapon. Never used them in battle, but in an emergency they’re better than nothing.

When night fell, Tony went home, and Bruce fell asleep on a pile of fabric samples. You went back to your room. You tried to sleep, you really did, but you just couldn't. So, you ended up thinking about him. Loki. Why must that tunic of his be so tight? You saw every ridge of his abs, every line on his chest. And those pants and that smirk. Ugh, did he see me blushing?! Oh, so what if he did? And his hair, Thor must have interrupted his brother after a shower, but you are kind of grateful for it. He looked adorable with his hair all floofed up. 

Do gods have bad hair days? Thor certainly does, you know that for a fact. Tony once straightened his blonde locks out while he fell asleep after a mission. Tony made sure to do an awful job. The result was a lot of yelling, gloating laughter and a broken elevator door. Ahh, fun times. If Loki has had a bad hair day, you sure haven’t seen it, at least not yet, you thought mischievously.

Everybody that wated to get tagged on tbmaw: @fictive-sl0th @vbecker10 @fictional-hooman @mischief2sarawr @maple-seed @tessathechild @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @theaudacitytowrite @gigglingtigger @peaches1958 @marygoddessofmischief @goblingirlsarah @oceandeepthirst @lokisgoodgirl @fallenlostarchives @kalinaselennespeaks @bloodlust-princess @assemblingavengers @loki-n-hvitserk @crzyplantladyvibes @slytherclaw1227

Normal tags: @their-love @vickie5446

[h4nn4hra]

Incorrect quotes

P2

----------------------------------------------------------

Horace: What's worse than a heartbreak?

Will : Stepping on a cat's tail and not being able to explain that you're sorry.

---

Leander: I dare you-

Crowley: Halt is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Leander: Why not?

Halt: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

---

Will : Halt, I am questioning your sanity...

Horace: I never questioned it, I knew their sanity was missing from the start.

---

Halt: Are they stupid?

Will : Yes, but they prefer to be called Horace.

---

Horace, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs?

Gilan: It means like in hand-to-hand combat.

Horace: Ohhhh-

Will : Both of you get out of this kitchen

---

Horace, when Will walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza.

Horace: *accidentally smacks Halt in the face with the baking sheet*

---

Will : Why did you guys dress up as each other for Halloween?

Horace: Halt is the scariest thing I could think of!

Halt: Horace told me I should pick the dumbest costume possible.

---

Halt: Guys where did Will go?

Horace: They got arrested.

Halt: How the hell-

Will: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.

---

Will: Okay, what does A stand for?

Cassandra: Arson.

Will : Aw, you're so good. Okay! B! What does B stand for?

Cassandra: Barson.

Horace: *laughter*

Will : What stands for C?

Cassandra: Commit arson.

Horace: Oooo.

Will: D!

Cassandra: Don't come near me, I'm going to commit arson.

Horace: *more laughter*

---

Halt: What about Horace?

Will: Don't worry about them.

Will: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

---

Jenny: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.

Alyss: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.

Jenny: Not when you’re playing with George, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

---

Alyss: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Will without them noticing?

Horace: Hey, Will, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

Will: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up.

Alyss:...

---

Crowley: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something.

Crowley: I need my socks.

---

Will: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

---

Horace: I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on.

---

Halt: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

---

Gilan: And now for a gay update with Crowley and Halt.

Crowley: Getting gayer.

Gilan: Thank you, Crowley.

---

Halt: Who knew getting in trouble would be so impossible?

Horace: I gotta give you credit, Will. You make it look easy.

Will: Years of practice.

---

Duncan, to Halt: your so small.

Halt: *proceeds to kick them in the shin*

Crowley, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Halt small.

---

Duncan: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Halt: I'm a knife.

Crowley, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

---

Cassandra: The moon looks beautiful tonight

Horace: Yeah, but do you know what's even more beautiful?

Both: *Sigh* Will

---

Halt: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-

Crowley: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~ *hugs Halt from behind*

Halt : Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-

Duncan: This is so cute.

[showfallmediaarchivist]

(Warning. This transcript contains graphic mentions and depictions of eye-related horror, and other types of gore. Read at your own risk!!!!)

[ Video Transcript begins.]

[The camera angle appears to be from someone’s waistcoat pocket, said waistcoat moving as they traverse. The individual appears to be walking down a flight of dark stairs, a flickering light ahead being the only thing to brighten the path. It hums as the person descends, the repetitive noise and their clanging footsteps on the metal being the only ambience. This continues for 10 minutes, before at last the end of the staircase is visible to the camera. A sign glows above a doorframe, glowing a neon green. It reads, “Archives”. They sigh as they finish the last step, their hands going above the lens, presumably to their hair.]

?: Right. I need to..just get in and deal with xer to buy them all some time.

[Voice Identified: Will Keane.]

W: Just..do it. Just go in.

[Will stays outside the door for a few more seconds, before shakily opening the door and stepping inside the Archives. The Hallways are dim, dusty and seemingly empty, with the only sound being a constant - drip, drip drip - of a leaking pipe somewhere within. It walks through, often checking around the corners of bookshelves. It's unknown what he is checking for, but it seems extremely cautious. After approximately 15 minutes, He comes to a wall half-full of filing cabinets, all labelled. Some cabinets appear to be opened and their contents strewn across the floor. Some appear to be older than others, and more stained with rot and mildew. A short laugh comes from Will.]

W: I'm.. glad to know that it worked. Don't have to properly destroy them, just gotta make them..unusable.

[It kneels onto the ground, reaching for a cabinet that appears to be locked, but stops and falters.]

W: Hm. That's..not ideal. Well! Good I have the knife.

[As it says this, he pulls out a small-ish knife, and moves back towards the cabinet. It places the blade gently into the lock, and begins trying to twist it open. After 3 minutes, Will stops.]

W: This. Is not going to work. At all.

[It stops, taking the blade out and turning the handle towards the lock. Will begins to hit the lock with the handle, loud clanging filling the empty space. After 5 minutes, the cabinet drawer falls open with a large bang on the stone floor. Will begins to rifle through the cabinet, taking out documents seemingly at random, and placing them in a pile.]

W: Right, this..should be enough!

[He turns away from the cabinet, focusing on the files in front of it. The darkness of the room makes the files illegible to the lens on his chest. It brings his arms near them, and picks up the top one, ripping it instantly to shreds. Will places the scraps to the side, and picks up the next file. Before, however, he can make the first rip, a cracking static overtakes the audio input.]

?: A Childish act. To get me to arrive.

[Voice(?) Identified: V.1.R.U.S PROTOCOL.]

W: Worked though, didn't it?

V: I was already coming. You couldn't hide them forever.

W: …I don't know what you mean.

V: Liar. We are the same, the same brain. I know what you know.

[Will stops, simply staring at the pile of files.]

V: Tell me, how long did you think those rats could keep it a secret for? That, Mari didn't keep their deal, hm?

W: I..don't know what you mean, really.

[The Camera lurches forward as a force pushes Will from behind, making him hit the floor.]

V: How long it would take for me to keep my end of the deal.

[Will moves, turning towards the source of the voice. A shadowy figure is only just picked out by the camera lens, standing directly in front of The Archivist. He looks over to where the knife is discarded, put a shadow-like hand moves his head back into position.]

V: Look at me when I'm speaking to you, bitch. Clearly those rats did more damage to my work than I believed.

W: F-fuck you. Get off me-

[The figure cuts him off, sharply hitting him alongside the temple.]

V: Do not. Talk to me like that, dog. Now. I'm going to give you five minutes to explain why you kept me away from your “friends”. Or….Well, I'll have to find out for myself.

W: You-you fucking know why.

V: Of course I do! I just want to get you to say it! For you to admit, you'd hurt them. You'd let me control you without any resistance- [Will attempts to interject at this moment, but is quickly cut off by a stamp to his ribs.] - ah, ah ah, little Archivist, the adult is speaking. You would fail at trying to stop me, and would have to watch as those little rats got remasked, killed and made useful again, wouldn't you? So this is your plan. Run away, like a coward. Came back to your little cave to curl up and die, hm?

[The Archivist is quite for a moment, before Muttering something.]

V: Hm? Speak up, Archivist.

W: No. I came for..something else.

V: Pray tell, you coward?

[Will steels himself, the camera shaking less, as it stares at the figure in front of him.]

W: You can see through my eyes. Can't you. That's how..thats how you knew. That's how you've been..controlling me.

[The figure pauses, considering.]

V:..if you know this, why ask.

[A small chuckle comes from Will.]

W: The others are getting out as we speak. You saw Sarah, so taking over me and reporting it was your plan. Am I right so far?

V:...Possibly. What is your point.

W: And I'm away from them. And I know your weakness - the thing that makes you powerful.

[The figure seems shocked, taking a step backwards.]

V: What..

[Will snatches up the nearby knife, grasping it as the Camera notices his hair near the lens.]

W: Consider this my retirement, bitch.

[William plunges the knife just above the lense, as the figure lets out a blood curdling scream. It mingles with Will's cry, as crimson covers the screen. The knife is heard clattering to the floor, and some blood clears as Will seemingly falls to the floor, knocking over the pile as it does so. The camera follows, falling into a position where Will is seen hunched on the floor, blood pouring from what was previously his eye socket. Blood mixes with water as it cries, the floor and files now soaking them up. ]

W: O-ow, o-oh gods, i-it- AH-

[It drops to the floor, his breathing hitching in pain, as blood begins to pool around him.]

W: M-mari..E-edgar..R-rose..anyone..please it-..please..

[His voice drifts off, as Will slips into unconsciousness. In the distance, yelling and footsteps can be heard.]

[Transcript Ends.]

[pokedawriter]

The stairs creek under the weight of me and my suitcase as I struggle to haul the thing up the third flight of stairs. Curses leave my mouth faster than an extremely upset 'Karen', but I try to keep it at least somewhat under my breath in respect to my new neighbors. I finally manage to get the damn thing onto the next floor, as it and I fall over (me from exhaustion and my suitcase because it's missing a wheel).

"Fucking finally," I huff. "That's the last of them." After catching my breath, I kick the suitcase a few feet before just grabbing and dragging it. "Why doesn't this fuckin place have an elevator?"

A key turn later and I'm in my new place. I glance around. The wallpaper is stained and peeling in some places and dust covers the ground. "I'm gonna name this place the shit shack," I mumble. "But that's what you get for $355 a month." I move to the window and slide it open, the cool autumn air immediately pushing its way inside and blowing dust into my face.

*cough cough* "Fuck!" *cough* I back away until my cough goes away. "I should probably unpack," I sigh.

And then I didn't.

Instead, I opted to clean the shit shack. I had opened my duffle bag, intending to unpack, but I happened to see the feather duster, and I figured a bit of cleaning would hurt. Just a bit here, and a bit there in the living room. And I gotta get the kitchen clean, or else all my eating stuff will be dirty and thats gross. And is that some mold in the bathroom? Hell nah bro, get that outta here.

Only a knocking on the door finally broke me out of my focus mode. I stepped over my bags then kicked them backward to give the door room to open. A tall, pale, lanky man with sleaked hair stood there, a polite smile on his face. "Hello there, miss," he said.

"Hi?"

"I'm your neighbor. In 302," he stated, continuing to smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, uh," fuck, my brain is not ready to be social. "Cool. Nice to, uh, meet you too." A pause. "What brings you over?"

"Nothing really," he replied. Something was off about him. "I saw you moving in earlier this afternoon. Figured I'd give you a few hours before I'd come over and introduce myself."

What was is it? Oh! His smile! It didn't reach his eyes- wait... few hours? I looked at my watch. 8:34pm.

I had successfully not unpacked for 5 hours.

"Miss?"

"Huh? Oh, right. What did you say?"

"I was hoping I could come in for a bit and brew you some tea?"

In? Into my not unpacked apartment where all my stuff is still only 1 foot behind me? Fuck no. "Uh, sorry. I'm waking up early tomorrow so I don't have time for guests right now. Thanks, though. Have a nice night!" I close the door quickly, then slowly sink down against it. Fuuuuuuck."

At this point, I'm too tired to bother actually unpacking so I just shuffle through my bags until I find my blanket, bed sheets, and pj's. However, I remember as I open the door to my room, that it was the one place I hadn't finished yet. Double fuck. The couch it is.

The living room fan provided the only sound, a gentle whirring. I scrolled on my phone for a bit trying to remember my class schedule tomorrow. My mind drifted to the apartment. The outdoor handrails need to be secured more and paint could use a touch up. The outside walls could go for a power wash to get rid of the algae and some of the wood stairs are severely warped and need to be replaced. And-

A dog howling interrupted my thoughts. On one hand: excuse you, I'm trying and failing to sleep here. On the other hand: Pupper. I don't wanna be that guy, especially since I just moved in, so I try to ignore it. I'll talk to the landlord about stairs tomorrow. This place might be cheap, but I'm sure he'll at least fix the stairs.

…

"I ain't 'fixing' shit, cuz nothin needs fixing," the man huffed.

"But the stairs could be a potential hazard-"

"Enough of that," he glared at me. "What would you know about fixing anything anyways?"

"Well, I'm training to be a engineer-"

He laughed. "A woman like you? An engineer? Now that's funny."

His face sure does look punchable right now.

"If you really wanna 'fix' this place so much, passcode to the shed is 1582," he sneered. "You'll give up soon enough. You ain't able to handle a man's job."

Remember. Violence is not the answer. I wish it was right now though.

I gave my customer service smile and left, flipping him the bird in my head. I'll show that prick. This place might be a shit shack, but it's my shit shack now and I'm gonna prove him wrong.

I stomp towards the shed, enter the code and slam open the door… which promptly falls off. Fuck. Guess the door is first.

A quick check shows the hinges had rusted then snapped. It wasn't going to be long until this door fell anyways it seems. The door itself seems alright though. A quick fix then. I peruse the shed and eventually find a box full of hinges. Weird, but convenient. Soon the door is up once again.

Now that I think about it, the mail room door looks to be on its last legs too. Maybe it's hinges need to be replaced too, or they just need tightened. I take a tool box and the box of hinges and head over.

As I open the mailroom door, a voice shrieks.

"WHAT THE FUUUuuuuuuuudge," I nearly cuss. "Dude, what was that for?"

A little girl stares at me blankly. She's dressed up like one of those old creepy dolls, and she has too much blush on. She tilts her head. "Hello, are you my mummy?"

"Nope," I set the tool kit down and begin examining the door. This one is not as bad. Just tightening the screws will be enough then some WD-40 for any sounds that might have happened but I didn't hear cuz some little girl screamed.

"Are you my mummy?"

"Still nope," I begin fixing the door. I see her stare at me from the corner of my eyes.

"Would you like to be my dolly?"

"Nah, too many strings attached," I snicker at my own joke. I swing the door back and forth a bit. Yup, quite the squeak it's got. I start shaking the can.

"I want you to be my dolly," the little girl says. Has she blinked yet? Like damn. She could be the next Guinness World Record holder.

"Pass, but thanks," I yawn a bit. I'm so tired. Classes took a lot out of me today despite it only being day 1. I attach the tube to the can then spray the hinges.

"Let's play a game, dolly," the girl stares at me, her voice steady and monotonous. The room seems to be getting longer, but its probably a trick of the eyes since I'm not paying much attention. "I'll-"

I move the door back and forth. Silent as a sleeping baby. "Nice," I smile, then turn to the kid. "Sorry, what did you say?"

She looked at me awestruck. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make the door stop screaming?" She looked between me and the door.

"Oh, I just put some lubriiiiiii- greasy stuff on the hinges so that it moves easier," I explain, crouching to meet her at eye level. Her mom probably doesn't want her to know the word 'lubricant' just yet. "How old are you, kid?"

She stated at the door hinges. "I'm 276 this year."

This kid must have just learned her big numbers. I laugh. "You must be very old and wise then." I poke her forehead and she looks at me now. "Kiddo, you gotta blink. It's not good for your eyes if you don't."

She stares at me. I blink at her. She blinks back. "Good!" I smile. "Are you here getting mail for your parents?"

The girl blinks again.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Anna," she mumbles.

"Nice name," I smile at her. "Do you want me to walk you back to your apartment?"

Anna stares at me and I sigh. "I'll be right back. Stay here." I run back to the shed and drop off the boxes, then rush back. Luckily, she's still there. I extend my hand to her. "Come on. Let's get you home."

"It was nice meeting you, Anna," I give her a wave. She waves back then closes the door.

She takes my hand and we eventually make it to (what I'm guessing) is her apartment, 203. Anna stands on her tiptoes to unlock the door then quickly enters and hides behind it.

Guess kids can be cute sometimes.

(I'll add more later)

… wait, have I eaten today?

You move into a suspiciously low rent apartment, that’s in some disrepair but not enough to account for the price. It turns out the other occupants are all evil supernatural beings. They set out to torment you, but then discover that you have done more to repair the building than the landlords.

[zed-the-buggy]

I was looking at the floor plan and noticed something... Hopefully they have lifts or something. wasn't supposed to finish this and i realize now they probably wouldn't be wearing uniforms rn but h-

[indefiniteimagines]

First Class || Fezco Smut (Euphoria)

A/N: I would suggest reading this first 💵

WARNINGS: language, SMUT, mile high club, oral (m receiving), creampie, slight choke kink, voyeurism, public sex

“My god. Can she be any slower? Y/N! Hurry the fuck up!"

"Yooo. How many times I gotta tell you to stop talkin to her like that, bro?"

"She's gonna be the reason we miss this flight."

"So we'll catch the next one. Chill out." Fez tried to reason with his younger brother, but he had to admit that his girl was taking forever. They were supposed to leave at 4:30pm to catch a 9 o'clock flight, but here they sit at home at 5:15.

Another 10 mins passed and not Ashtray was pissed, "So just fuck security then, huh?"

"Alright. I'll go get her," he got up from his spot on the couch and headed up the stairs.

"Baby?" he asked opening their bedroom door. When he looked inside, he saw Y/N almost in a pretzel trying to hold her suitcase closed and zip it at the same time.

He let out a laugh and asked if she need help.

"It's not funny," I said in a whine, "My back hurts."

"Yeah I can see why. Hop up. I'll hold it down and you zip it." I got up with a smile on her face and went to the zipper. Of course I warned him not to push too hard as I had valuable things in there that couldn't get messed up.

Even with the two of us, we still couldn't get it closed.

"What do you have in here?"

"Essentials," I said with a shrug. We both called for Ashtray to come help us and we finally got it closed. Ash yanked it from under Fez and was anything but careful lugging it to the car.

"He's ready to go."

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it." He pulled me close to him and planted a kiss on my head and a quick smack to the bum.

We finally get to LAX and through security which took forever since we’re going to a foreign country with a virus still lingering around. When we got to the gate it was about to close, but Ash wiggled his way in and they kept it open for Fez and I. The seats weren’t hard to get to or find since they were in first class. We all got settled in and the first meal was served in less than two hours. After dinner, I found myself falling asleep for a few hours. When I woke up, the cabin lights were off and no one’s tv screens were glowing.

I hummed and stretched softly; glancing around to double check that everyone was still asleep. I took a look at Fez, his eyes closed and headphones on, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Running my hand along the seat to rest on his thigh. With the career he has, Fezco isn’t a heavy sleeper. I feel him tense up under my touch and he looks down at me, raising an eyebrow. I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips and then the nape of his neck.

Fez bites down on his bottom lip, looking around and removing his headphones. I lift my head up to press a kiss to just below his ear, purring softly “c’mon, baby. Everyone's asleep, let's have some fun. Besides, I owe you for being late,” I say as I softly bite his earlobe. He lets out a soft grunt, gulping down slowly and nodding his head. I start to slowly slide my hand up his thigh to rest on his crotch, squeezing his cock through his pants softly. It’s then I feel his hips buckle. Taking that cue,  I start undoing his belt, pushing my hand past the waistline of his boxers. I rub my fingers along thick and long his length. He let's out a soft breath, shuttering softly at my touch. I fully grip the base of his cock cock tightly in my hand, his cock twitching in response.

I grin, biting down my bottom lip as I slowly start to pump his cock, tightening my grip towards his tip. Fezco breathes in shallowly, trying his best not to make any noise. I look at him as I feel his cock twitch under my touch again. His eyes shifted closed and that’s when I got an idea. I adjusted my body to where my head was in his lap under the blanket.

“Whoa, baby. Not here.”

“C’mon,” I whisper, “Don’t you want to feel your cock down my throat at 30,000 feet?” I asked him with the most innocent eyes I could muster up in that moment.

“You are so fucking bad,” he said as he lifted his hips to lower his jeans a little more. I giggled to myself as I took him in my warm, wet mouth. I start moaning around him when I feel his precum leaking out onto my tongue. The vibration makes his hips buck and his hand finds its way to my head.

As a reflex I push back, but it doesn't go unnoticed,

"Nuh uh. You wanted this dick, so take it." I loosen my jaw and let him slide to the back of my throat.

"Fuuuuck," he whispers as he feels my head and his hand go down. He holds me there until he feels a pool of saliva on the top of his thigh. He releases my head and cups my cheeks to kiss me.

"Wait for me in the bathroom. Go on." I climb over him to get to the aisle and rush to the lavatory. I quickly switch it to "occupied" until I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, all hell broke loose.

I slam my hand against the airplane bathroom mirror, holding back whimpers and moans as Fezco drives into me from behind. My eyes are rolling back as his fingers find their way into my mouth and down my throat I gag at the intrusion and Fez's head picks up from looking at himself pummeling inside of you at a pace that wasn’t fast enough to create loud sounds. “Be quiet,” he hisses lowly, using his other hand to wrap around my throat.

“I’m—fuck!” I yelp breathlessly as he sharply slams into me, slowing down his space.

“Use your words, princess,” he murmurs, his fingers digging into my skin that would for sure leave bruises. 

“I’m cumming,” I whimper quietly, looking back at him as he pulled my hair towards him.

“I know. I can fucking feel it. Fuck,” he mutters and presses his lips against mine, his pace quickening almost immediately. I can’t help but moan louder into his mouth. He lets go of my hair, grasping at my jaw harshly. “You need to keep it down,” he mutters, directing my attention back to the mirror. 

What a sight it is. His hand cupping my jaw almost possessively, his dick continuously ramming into my soaking pussy at a rough pace, hair tousled and ruined.

My stomach twisted with pleasure as he lets go of my face and grabs the back of my neck to bend me completely over. I have a death grip on the counter and bite my lip harshly as his hips still while he buries his cock snug into me. 

“Ohhh my god,” I moan as my eyes roll once more.

I scratch at the surface as a tingly sensation washes all over me and his tip hits my womb. I feel nothing but pure bliss as he fucks me through my orgasm. Watching as I cream on his dick, Fez pulls me back into his hips roughly while grinding them every which way. My back arches and my ass presses up against his hips, furthering his dick inside my cunt. There’s a dent in his forehead and the grunts he’s letting out almost send me into another orgasm. I look at him in the mirror and beg him to cum for me,

“Fez, please. I want to feel your cum inside me. I wanna grind down on the seat when I feel it start to leak out.”

“Fuck, baby. Keep going.”

“You’re fucking me like the slut I am. So fucking deep. Mmmm.” My bottom lip is tucked between my teeth as I enjoy the rough rocking. I clench around him and he grabs the back of my neck, my face hitting the counter once more.

He fucks me until he’s emptied everything he had into what’s his. He goes and stays balls deep until he starts to soften. When he pulls out, a little cum follows and he swipes it with his finger, pushing it back in. I keep myself on the counter until I have the energy to move and pull up my sweats. Once dressed, Fez places a passionate kiss to my lips before calling me “his good girl”. He peeks his head out to see what he can and gives me the signal when the coast is clear.

We get back to our seats just in time as Ashtray gets up to stretch his legs and comes to our row,

“We almost there?”

I tap my little tv screen and view the map,

“About 6 more hours.” He just rolls his eyes and heads to the bathroom. Fez and I get ourselves back situated when Ash exits the lavatory,

“Yo. Use the other one. It smells like straight fucking in there,” he says as he passes us.

Fez and I look at each other before letting out childlike giggles. We pick a movie and enjoy the rest of the flight.

[yutanology]

Kids (Prologue)| NCT Dream × Fem!Reader

Warning : cliche, a few cusses, little fluff, possessiveness, NCT Dream being bratty and stubborn. No proofread :(

Synopsis : Y/n somehow ended up helping Mark babysit his stepbrothers for the weekend. That two days of babysitting soon turned into frequent days of her visiting them as they would throw a fit if she wouldn't. When she thought everything would be fine soon, it only became worse as time passed by.

Take note that Mark and Y/n are at the same age(15). 00 line are 7 while Chenle is 6 and Jisung is 5.

"Vroom! Vroom! Vrooom!" Jisung said loudly through his pouted lips. He was sitting on his big toy car, imitating the roaring machine of an actual car.

Behind him was Chenle pushing him on all sides of the wide nursery room to make Jisung feel like he's really driving the car. The younger kid raised both his hands up, enjoying the ride and the room was filled with their cute giggles.

"Hey, slow down. You might get hurt—" Mark immediately cut his own words, replacing it with a loud yelp when the wheels of the car they were riding ran on his toes. "Ahhh!" he instinctively crouched down to hold his toes that were now throbbing in pain.

The duo didn't even bother to look back at him and ask if he's okay cuz they're too entertained to even notice his suffering.

"Y/n, help!" he called out for the female who just entered the room carrying a very hyper Haechan on her arms that she chased around the house for almost half an hour so she could get him to wear his pants.

She had such a great time giving him a bath. Haechan splashed water on her clothes, saying that he wanted her to join him on his bubble bath. Ending him getting her hoodie soaked wet (she took it off and let it dry), thankfully, her shirt was safe.

He wanted to play with her all the time. He doesn't want her to take a break even for a damn minute and he never ran out of some things he'd like to say. Either he makes sense or not, he doesn't care.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be enjoying her time alone at home while it's still weekend but here she is, babysitting her friend's stepbrothers. It just so happened that she met Mark's parents when both of them walked home together yesterday from school.

They had a little chitchat and eventually got along. Then that's when they asked her a favor to help Mark take care of his stepbrothers during the weekend as they won't be able to keep an eye on them because of their busy schedules.

She was about to decline until she heard that they're going to pay her a fair price. Yup, she needed money that's why she agreed with them. Her family is not as rich as the Lees so she can't always get the things she wanted to buy. So in order to be able to, she had to work for it. She got her parent's permission that night, letting her do what she wanted.

"Why? What happened?" she asked Mark, trying to keep Haechan still or he'll fall down but she decided to put his feet on the floor. "Nooo! Carry me! Carry me!" Haechan whined, holding his arms up to her.

She tiredly sighed, picking him up again. She knew the last thing to do to him is to make him upset. He'd cry nonstop and would totally be mad at everyone. She didn't want that. Things would be harder to handle than it already is right now.

"My toes freaking hurt! I don't think I'll be able to stand up." He over exaggerated.

Y/n approached him to check if he's alright then found his toes flamming red. "Oh god, uhm, I'll go get some ice or something. I don't know how to treat that but I hope it would help." she rushed to the kitchen with Haechan still on her arms.

Opening the top of the fridge, she saw an ice pack. She grabbed it and was about to close the fridge when Haechan spotted the fruit popsicles. "I want that." he pointed at the sweet treats that caught his attention.

She reached the first popsicle, "I don't like that. I want the strawberry." then she gave him one. He better not have cavities for eating too much sweets or else she'd be blamed for it.

She helped him get rid of the plastic wrapper, throwing it on the trash bin before letting him eat the fruit popsicle. His eyes almost literally twinkled once the cold strawberry treat touched his tongue. At least, he's happy now.

They both went back to the room, handing Mark the ice pack to help it ease the pain on his poor toes. "Thanks." Mark sighed and she nodded, sitting beside him on the sofa but their eyes are still on the kids just to make sure they're okay.

"Where are your maids? Aren't they supposed to be helping us here?"

"They all went home to their families. Only our cook and our driver are the only workers left here." That explains why she didn't bump into someone else in this house.

Renjun was not so far from them. He's quietly sitting on the carpeted floor attaching puzzle pieces together, focusing on completing the picture into whole. Despite the whole chaos going on around him, he somehow found peace on the corner of the room.

Well, not until he found out that Jeno was chewing on the other puzzle pieces. He's been trying to look at the missing items on his puzzle only to find out that they're with Jeno all the time.

The two kids fought. Renjun was huffing mad while Jeno was crying. Even though he already said sorry, Renjun doesn't seem to forgive him anytime soon for ruining his puzzle that he worked on for hours since this morning.

Mark limped his way to Jeno to calm him down and Y/n took care of Renjun (and Haechan, of course). She was in the middle of a conversation with Renjun when she felt a tug on her shirt.

Looking down, she saw a sleepy Jaemin rubbing his eyes. "I'm sleepy." he said. He must've been worn out from joining Haechan at every trouble he initiated.

"Oh, wait a second." she told him, he silently nodded.

"Haechan, can you please sit here with Renjun for a while?" she carefully put him beside the said boy.

"Huh? But why? Where are you going?" he asked her after he took out the popsicle out of his mouth.

She lifted Jaemin on her arms this time which Haechan frowned at. "I'll just go take him to his room. I'll be back, I promise." She waited him to say something but he stayed silent, glaring at the boy playing her hair, completely unaware of the piercing gaze of his stepbrother.

"Uhm, we'll go now..." she awkwardly informed him before making her way out of the room for the nth time of the day. This time, she's the one unaware of Jaemin sticking his tongue at Haechan to tease him. Before he could stomp his way to him, Y/n was already out of the room with Jaemin, leaving both Renjun and Haechan angry of different reasons.

Throughout the whole time she carried Jaemin to his room, he continued to play with her hair. Twirling silky strands of her hair on his small fingers, droopy eyes slowly closing and his head weighed on her shoulder.

Assuming that he fell asleep, Y/n could only sigh in relief that one of the most chaotic step brothers finally took his rest. After climbing a few more flight of stairs, she reached his room at last. The whole mansion is too big for her liking but she's not the one living here so she can't have something to say to it.

She pushed the door open, laying Jaemin on his queen sized bed then she covered half of his body with his comforters. "Sleep well, Jaemin." she kissed his forehead before she left him and he slept with a smile adorning his lips.

"What took you so long?" Haechan immediately asked her, arms crossed on his chest and his brows still furrowed together. "Haechan, you know how far Jaemin's room is from here. Come on, stop being sulky. I'm already here."

She glanced at Mark reading a book for Jisung, Chenle and Jeno on the table. "Why don't you join them?" Haechan shook his head. "Because I don't want to."

"Aren't you going to take your afternoon nap too?"

"No."

"What about—" he didn't let her finish her words as he stood up and stomped away out of the nursery room. He left her there confused. Renjun who had finally cooled off his anger approached her.

"He's mad at you."

Y/n looked down at him. "I just tucked Jaemin to sleep. Why'd he gotta make a big deal about it?" she asked as if she's talking to herself. Renjun knew the answer but didn't blurt out anything about it instead he held her hand.

"Can we go pick flowers on the garden?" she smiled at him with a nod. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

[yiiran]

// Spider-Man No Way Home spoilers

I will never stop at this point

Peter G: You know, some people are like slinkies

Peter G: They don't do very much, but they do bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs :)

Peter M: What the fuck

Peter H: Have you done this before?

Peter G: Well, Peter 1, it's like if you read the script you come better prepared.

Peter M: That's not what we do in the US, we don't read things.

Peter H: I don't read, Peter 3.

Peter H: It's locked. You got a lock pick?

Peter M: Yeah-

Peter G: *kicks in the door*

Peter H: HELP! I TOLD PETER 2 I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!

Peter G, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Peter M: I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here.

Peter H: Peter 3 is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Peter 2.

Peter G: I feel like Peter 2 is the more responsible one of us two though.

Peter M: We are both 70% of each others' impulse control.

Peter G: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

*Peter H dies in a game with ships*

Peter M: This ship is no longer a ship of love, it's a ship of vengeance, a gavel of justice against all that is wrong in the world, showing no mercy, as no mercy was shown to us.

Peter M: The spark of love will now fuel the fires of destructive glory as I wage my war across the world with righteous fury.

Peter G: Legend has it that Peter H still haunts the ship, stealing my fucking drinks.

Peter H: Of course I do.

Peter M: I hope you have an explanation for this.

Peter H: We have three actually-

Peter G: Pick your favorite.

Peter M: Peter 1 got into a fight.

Peter G: That’s bad.

Peter G:

Peter G: Did he win?

Peter G: Where are my fucking keys?

Peter M: Peter 3, Peter 1 is around, can you say it a little nicer?

Peter G: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

Peter M: Guess what number I’m thinking of.

Peter H: 420?

Peter M: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously.

Peter G: 69.

Peter M: Yeah it was 69.

Peter G: *pitches an idea*

Peter M: Huh, there might be something here!

Peter H, under his breath: Yeah, a lawsuit.

Peter H: Who wants to make fifty bucks?

Peter G: How?

Peter H: I need someone to take the fall.

Peter G: What did you do?

Peter H: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked.

Peter M, from the other room: Oh my god.

Peter H: ...

Peter M: OH MY GOD!

Peter G: Make it a hundred.

Peter H: Deal.

Peter M: Peter 3, what did I tell you about lying?

Peter G, looking down: ...That it only works on Peter 1.

Peter H: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Peter 2?

Peter M: No.

Peter G: I do.

Peter H: I know, Peter.

Peter G: I’m sad.

Peter H: I know, Peter.

Peter H: Peter 2, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Peter M: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Peter H: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Peter 3.

Peter M: Wait- Peter, no-

Peter G: Who knew getting in trouble would be so impossible?

Peter M: I gotta give you credit, Peter 1. You make it look easy.

Peter H: Years of practice.

Peter M: Peter 1 won’t wake up, what do I do?

Peter G: Did you try kicking him?

Peter M: Yes.

Peter G: I’m out of ideas.

Peter H: Dr. Strange gonna kill me.

Peter M: No, he'll probably make me do it.

Peter H: If you water water, it grows.

Peter M: ...What.

Peter G: He's got a point.

Peter H: But what about Peter 2?

Peter G: Don't worry about him.

Peter G: I once watched him fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating his hotdog like nothing happened.

Peter M: *double checking supplies in the boat* Compass. CB radio. Sunscreen.

Peter H: Hot dog costumes!

Peter M: I’m sorry, what?

Peter H: You know, in case we get lost at sea, and one of us, probably Peter 3, goes mad with hunger, we’ll put these on. Peter 3 hates hot dogs, so he probably won’t eat us.

Peter M: Are you saying that Peter 3 would rather eat us than hot dogs?

Peter G: I do hate hot dogs.

Peter M: Are you drunk?

Peter G: Only on the spirit of Christmas!

Peter H: And the spirit of whisky.

Peter M to Peter H: First rule of battle, little one... don’t ever let them know where you are.

Peter G, shooting out of frame: WHOO-HOO! I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT SOME O’ ME?! YEAH YOU DO! COME ON! COME ON! AAAAAH! Whoo-hoo!

Peter M: 'Course, there’re other schools of thought.

Peter H: Can we go out to get icecream?

Peter G: Did you ask Peter 2?

Peter H: He said no.

Peter G: Then why did you ask me?

Peter H: He's not the boss of you.

Peter G, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

Peter H: How do you do that?

Peter G: I'm fearless.

Peter M: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad.

Peter G: I'm mostly fearless.

Peter H: I'm not that gullible!

Peter M: Peter, you literally ate the wax from a babybel.

Peter H: PETER 3 TOLD ME IT WAS EDIBLE!

Peter H & Peter G:*Playing video games*

Peter M: You guys woke up at 5:30 in the morning just to play games?

Peter H: *silence*

Peter G: *silence*

Peter M, finally figuring it out: ...You two never went to sleep, did you?

Peter H & Peter G in shame: Yeah...

Peter H: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Peter 3 without him noticing?

Peter M: Hey, Peter 3, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

Peter G: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser.

Peter H: ...

Peter H: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Peter 2 is walking in this room.

Peter G: *wheeze*

Peter M: I’m telling you, my team is competent.

Peter H, rushing in: Peter! Peter 3 tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Peter G: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Peter 1.

Peter M: You just said it again.

Peter H:

Peter G: I am not a role model.

Peter H: What's the signal when something goes wrong?

Peter G: We yell, 'oh shit.'

Peter M: ...That'll work.

[scuttling]

(You Want To) Make a Memory

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 19,858 Chapters: 5 of 5 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Amnesia, Anxiety attacks, Sex dreams, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Praise kink, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Choking, Biting, Hickies, Oral sex, Making love, Angst and feels, Shower sex, Size kink Summary: Sophie gets amnesia while working a case and forgets everything from the last two years: her friends, her job at the BAU, and her boyfriend, Aaron. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)

Link to AO3 or read Chapter 1 below!

The thing Sophie finds most complicated about her work at the BAU is that it’s their job to predict the unpredictable. Yes, they are all highly educated, knowledgeable profilers, with decades of experience between them, and human behavior typically follows patterns that are easily discernible if you have the right training. But even armed with all the information, all the statistics, all the data, there’s one thing they can never really know for certain: what a desperate person will do in the heat of the moment.

The unsub they are looking for is a white male, aged 25-35, who lives alone, has a steady daylight job, drives a red pickup truck, and has a problem with older female authority figures. Sophie could go on and on about this particular type of unsub—she could tell you where he shops, how he spends his evenings, his favorite sport/team/player, probably even what he’ll eat for dinner tonight—but there’s no way she can know how he’ll react to the FBI at his door, or the consequences his actions will have.

The team is canvassing the neighborhood they believe the unsub resides in, and she and Spencer were assigned the four hundred block; they each take a separate side of the street, and work their way down house by house trying to find someone who fits the profile, or knows someone who does.

“Any luck?” Sophie asks Spencer when they meet back up at the end of the the block. He grimaces, uncertain.

“There was one guy, but…” She gestures toward the SUV and they walk toward it together.

“What happened? Profile didn’t fit?”

“He was the right demographic, the vehicle fit, but he wasn’t disorganized. In fact, his home looked like it belonged in a catalog: photos on the walls, decorative items, nothing out of place.” She frowns a little, because it’s clear this guy has raised some red flags for her partner, and she trusts his intuition when it comes to stuff like this.

“And he lives alone?” she asks, confirming. That’s a pretty big part of the profile, considering what he does to the victims. He nods.

“Yes, no indication of a girlfriend or wife living there.” Sophie blows out a breath, leans against the side of the SUV.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. Maybe... he hires a housekeeper.” Spencer shrugs.

“He didn’t seem like the type, but I guess it’s possible.”

“Alright, well… Okay, so our profile is of a man who kills older women because he has an issue with an older woman who is an authority figure in his life. We thought maybe his boss, but what if it’s his mother?” she asks, face lighting up a little. This theory makes more sense, actually. “What if she comes over while he’s at work, cleans the place up, redecorates, just takes complete control of his life, even his private space, and he loses it?” He nods enthusiastically.

“That is extremely more likely. Now that I think of it, all the photos were of him and an older woman who could be his mother.” Sophie pulls out her phone, gestures over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Let’s head back there; Hotch and JJ are just around the corner, I’ll let them know we might need backup. 412?”

“Yeah—hey, that’s the truck. That’s the truck,” he says with more urgency, pointing down the street at a rapidly approaching red pickup truck that matches the description of the unsub’s. Shit.

“Okay, get in the car, call Hotch,” she instructs, and they both barely make it in before the truck rear-ends the SUV on the driver's side; Sophie’s head hits off the steering wheel hard, and the car rocks, and she looks over at Spencer, a little disoriented, to make sure he’s okay. He’s holding his wrist, like maybe he hurt it bracing himself.

When she gets her bearings, she starts the car, throws it into reverse, ready to apply a little force and potentially keep him from striking again, but he backs up, speeds up, and cuts the wheel to go around them, striking her door and driving past. It’s then that another SUV cuts him off, and Hotch and JJ jump out, guns drawn; the unsub raises his hands, surrenders, and it’s over as quickly as it began.

“Sophie?” She can hear her name, but her head is swimming. She touches the cut above her temple, pulls back a hand covered in blood, but she knows head injuries bleed heavily, so she’s not worried. She’s more worried that she can’t tell where that voice is coming from. It’s like she’s in a fun house, sounds echoing from all sides. “Sophie, can you hear me?” She hums in response.

Kind hands are on her face, turning it toward the sun, and she scrunches her eyes at the brightness. She knows the hands are trying to help, but her head already hurts, and the light isn’t doing her any favors.

“Gotta… get up,” she mumbles, and the hands hold her waist, help her out of the car. Her left foot hurts when she puts her weight down on it, and she almost folds, but the hands hold her up, and she thinks she smiles.

“Reid—is she okay?” That voice is a voice that makes her want to answer immediately, even if her brain hasn’t quite caught up. She stumbles over her words.

“‘M okay. Just my… head.” A different pair of hands hold her up, and her brain is working enough to recognize that she loves the smell of the person attached to the hands. They are serious hands, and one of them sweeps gently over her face.

“Can you open your eyes for me, baby, please?” that good voice asks, and she wants to do anything the voice asks, but her eyes really hurt. She must say that out loud, because the voice says softly, “That’s alright, don’t strain yourself. Medics on the way. You’re going to be fine.”

“Tell him…” She is placed back in the car, can feel the softness of the seat against her back, and it’s nice. “Tell him that was mean… and not to do it again.” She feels lips on her face, turns toward them, sighs when they brush over hers. “Mmm. Or I’m going to… tell his mother.”  When Sophie wakes up, she feels like she’s been repeatedly punched in the head, thrown down a flight of stairs, and then run over by a truck, so, naturally, she groans. She doesn’t dare open her eyes at first, can already see the fluorescents flickering through her eyelids, but her mouth is dry, and since she knows she must be in a hospital, she knows that there’s a little plastic pitcher of water somewhere within her reach.

Cautiously, she cracks one eye, finds the pitcher and a kind looking woman with fair skin and dark bangs staring back at her.

“You’re awake!” she whispers excitedly, and she leans forward for a hug, which Sophie does not return, because she doesn’t know the woman. The woman must feel the tension in Sophie’s body as she sits, arms at her sides, and waits for the hug to end, because she pulls back, concerned. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she begins, unsure of how to put this politely. Her voice is dry, rough, and the woman pours her a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Do I know you?” Her face falls, and she looks confused, and then abruptly worried.

“My name is Emily. Prentiss. Does that ring a bell?” Sophie thinks back, tries to navigate around the pounding in her temples, and ultimately shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry. And I mean no disrespect—I meet a lot of people for work, so sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work for the FBI. Intelligence.” Sophie takes in the woman’s outfit—black turtleneck, gray pants, boots, government issued handgun—and tilts her head curiously. “And you?”

“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She pulls her bag closer on the seat beside her, pulls out her credentials, lets Sophie hold them. “Have you heard of it?”

“Sure, of course. I have an interview there next week, actually.” She hands back the badge with a smile. “Small world. Uh, do you think that what happened to me occurred because of a crime, or something? Is that why you’re here?"

Agent Prentiss gives her a sad smile, then stands, pulling out her cell phone. “You know, we’re really not sure what’s going on. Excuse me for one moment, I need to make a call. I’ll get your doctor while I’m out there.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie calls as she heads out of the room, and she pours another glass of water.

When the agent returns with the doctor, she looks tenser, but the doctor just shoots her a kind smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“Thank you; I’m glad to be awake. How long have I been out?”

“About two days. You were in a car accident, do you remember that?” She’d catalogued her injuries while alone—laceration to the head, some pain and swelling there; aching wrist, sore but unbroken; bruised ankle, tender but okay to put pressure on—and they are consistent with a car accident, but she shakes her head.

“No, ma’am, I don’t remember.” The doctor frowns, an expression the agent behind her mirrors.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Um.” She closes her eyes, thinks hard for a moment, but it hurts her eyes. “I was driving home from work, I think? Or about to leave for the day. It’s kind of blurry.”

“That’s alright, don’t press too hard. It should come back to you in no time.” She steps around the bed to pull her chart off the wall, skims it briefly. “We’re going to have to run some scans; I’ll give you a moment with Agent Prentiss, and then I’ll send someone in to take you down to the lab, okay?”

“Sure. Thank you, doctor.” The woman smiles and walks out of the room, leaving her with the clearly unhappy agent. “Is everything okay, Agent Prentiss? You look about as bad as I feel.” The woman sighs, drops back down into her seat, folds her hands in her lap.

“The doctor believes you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. You don’t remember some things you should remember. Quite a bit of time.” Her throat goes dry again, her heart beats rapidly in her chest.

“That’s not possible. I remember driving home from work… or, getting in the car to drive home from work, just the other day.” She shakes her head like she’s not sure what to say.

“I know, Sophie, but that’s not a recent memory. You don’t work at the Grant building anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m the Intelligence liaison. I mean, I applied for the BAU job…” She’s wanted to work there since she found out about it, to put her degrees to good use; to get an interview is almost unheard of, everyone told her, but she made the cut, even bought a new suit to wear. It’s still hanging in her closet.

“And you got it,” Prentiss says gently, reaching forward to take her hand. “You and I have been working together at the BAU for almost two years.”

Sophie can’t be blamed, she doesn’t think, when she leans over, reaches for the wastebasket, and promptly vomits.  “So I’m a profiler, and I’ve been one for two years. I work with you and we’re friends,” Sophie repeats as a bit of a recap. Prentiss nods.

“Yep. Those who profile serial killers together, stick together.” She says it with a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

“Wow. Okay. I’m really sorry I don’t remember you.” She shrugs it off, and Sophie sighs. “Any other major life events I should know about? Did I get a cat, go vegan?”

“You don’t have time for a pet, and you like cheese too much,” Prentiss jokes, but that does sound like something she’d say. Her face gets serious after that, and she even looks nervous. It makes Sophie nervous, too. “You have a boyfriend.”

That raises her eyebrows.

“I have a boyfriend.” She smiles softly, nods.

“Yes. He’s… it’s funny, because he’s actually... our boss.” Sophie blanches. Talk about a close-knit group.

“I’m sleeping with my boss? That is not like me.” She barely sleeps with anyone, too busy focusing on her career and not that into one-night-stands, but her boss of all people? That’s just plain stupid.

“It’s really not like that, trust me. You two are in love.” Okay, she’s heard enough. Maybe Prentiss is a prankster, playing some wildly hilarious joke on her amnesiac pal.

“I’m in love. Did I actually say that?” She knows herself pretty well, flaws and all, and she’s been a vehement skeptic when it comes to love for… god, as long as she can remember—no pun intended. Prentiss nods, looks very serious.

“Yes, I’ve heard you say it many, many times. You two live together.”

“We live together? For how long?” This can’t be right; one of the things she values most is her privacy, her solitude. She lives a quiet, simple life, aside from being an FBI agent, and she likes it that way.

“About six months,” she answers carefully.

“We’ve lived together for six months? How long have we been dating?” Her voice sounds a little shrill even to her own ears. Prentiss is being very cool about it all, doesn’t so much as blink.

“It’s a year next week, actually. He’s been trying to come up with a surprise for your anniversary.” Sophie feels a little lightheaded.

“Anniversary. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut, which hurts, opens them only so the pain will go away. She knows they’re teary, can’t help it, but she doesn’t want Prentiss to see her like this. She hates being vulnerable, always has. “I can’t remember two years of my life. I can’t remember my own boyfriend, my own job. My friends.”

“I can tell you about them, if you want,” she offers cautiously. “The doctor said it could help, but if you feel like it’s too much, let me know.”

Sophie nods carefully. She wants to know, she needs to know.

Prentiss—Emily—is so genuinely kind. She sits there for an hour, tells Sophie about work, and their team—their friends, because the group is very tight, gets together for dinner and drinks, and they all support each other’s non-bureau endeavors, and she feels so sad that she can’t remember them, can’t recall anything Emily is rattling off so easily it’s like she doesn’t even have to think about it.

She talks about some tough cases they’ve worked on, and how they always end with a cookout or a family dinner so they can remember why they do the hard things, why they keep fighting. She talks about people they’ve helped, saved, brought comfort to. She talks about flights home on the jet, how sometimes they sit in quiet, companionable silence and other times it’s all teasing and laughter and the good things in life.

Then she starts talking about Aaron—the boss/boyfriend—and Sophie does cry, a couple of tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She’d never imagined in her life that she would be as loved as she is, if Emily’s stories are true, and the fact that she can’t remember any of it is like a knife to the gut. She wants to scream, to make someone pay for what she’s missing, but she knows none of that will bring her memory back, so she dials back the rage as quickly as it came—huh, that’s new.

Usually, her particular brand of anxiety attack would happen right about now, always worse when she’s afraid or angry. She anticipates tightening in her chest, shortness of breath, ringing in her ears that takes forever to go away, but it doesn’t come. She’s able to calm herself with a deep breath, and despite the fact that the rest of her life is a dumpster fire right now, this feels kind of good. It feels like progress, not a story told through someone else’s eyes, but a tangible feeling she can hold onto and think, I am a different version of Sophie than I was two years ago. A better version, maybe. But at least different. That, above everything else, makes it real.

A nurse walks in to take Sophie down for scans, and Emily just smiles, a bit sadly, and tells her she’ll be there waiting when she returns.

It’s a small comfort, something she holds onto as she’s taken down to the lab. When Sophie makes it back to her room, Emily is waiting there as promised, and she has a duffle bag sitting on the bed. “The doctor says you can go home while they wait for the scans,” she says with a smile; she probably thinks it will make Sophie happy, and it does, but the idea of going to a home she’s never been to is a little unsettling. Still, it’s nice to know there are people who care about her who will help her through it, that she’s not alone. That’s not something Sophie of two years ago would have been able to count on.

She smiles back, and Emily helps her change into clothes that somehow still smell like the hospital, but it feels better to be dressed and not stuck in the flimsy hospital gown that always makes you feel weaker and sicker, more injured than you really are.

She hears a voice from out in the hall, a voice that catches her attention immediately, and she walks over to the door, peeks her head out to see if she can find the man it belongs to.

She does, and he is almost too good-looking to be real. Somehow, she both instinctively knows that this man is Aaron, and can’t see how that could possibly be true.

“Emily. Is that Aaron?” she asks to confirm, pointing to the tall, serious-looking, frankly smoldering hot man having a conversation with her doctor at the end of the hall. She peeks her head out the door too, looks toward him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you remember him?” Her tone is guarded but hopeful, and Sophie sighs.

Remember him, no, not in the way she means, but every cell in her body feels alive and on fire just from catching a glimpse of his face, so she’s pretty sure Emily is right and she’s crazy in love with him. And his suit. Who looks that good in a suit?

Her boyfriend, apparently. Who she lives with. Who she’s been with for a year. Her mind is still a little blown.

“I don’t recall any memories of him,” she whispers, as if he can hear her from down the hall, “but, uh. I think my body remembers him.” Emily looks at her, eyebrow quirked, and she blushes. “Or, you know. Parts of it.”

Realization dawns, and Emily grins. “Okay yeah, that tracks. You two are kind of all over each other. It’s an intense vibe.” Sophie takes a moment to imagine that, what it would be like to be in a relationship with this man.

He looks intense, which can be good or bad, with the kind of mouth you could kiss forever, smile against. He’s taller than her by about a foot, which thrills her, and broad, as evidenced by the jacket stretched across his shoulders, which really thrills her. He’s older, maybe early forties, which she doesn’t feel particularly strongly about one way or another, with gorgeous dark hair and eyes, and when he shakes hands with the doctor, silver wrist watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her mouth practically waters.

“Earth to Sophie. You’ve got a little drool, there,” Emily teases, pointing to her own mouth, and Sophie groans.

“You didn’t prepare me. You didn't tell me he was hot.” Aaron turns away from the doctor, starts walking down the hall toward her room, and she ducks out of the doorframe, Emily following suit. She puts a hand to her forehead, not in physical pain, but mental pain for sure. “God, this is going to be so awkward. I’ve got a total lady boner for the guy I’m in love with that I can’t even remember.”

“It might be a little awkward at first, but you guys are sweet together. He’s going to be so caring and understanding, give you all the time you need.” She puts her hands on Sophie’s arms, grounding her. “We’re going to focus on trying to get your memories back, but the doctor said you shouldn’t stress.”

“That’s easy for her to say,” she mutters, crossing her arms, “she didn’t forget her big sexy boyfriend.” She hears a soft chuckle from behind her and instantly flushes, which makes Emily grin.

“Sophie, this is Aaron.” She physically turns her, and Aaron is smiling gently, which makes him look even better than when he was serious and expressionless. Her heart thrums in her chest.

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I want to.” She sticks out her hand for a shake, feels dumb instantly, but he takes it anyway, holds it for a moment. His hand is rough, so much bigger than hers, and part of her hopes he never lets go.

“That’s alright. Dr. Bracken is confident you’ll recover all of your memories in time. She’s given me some instruction on ways we can try to jog your memory, but no stress, like Emily said.”

“I guess we’re not considering the fact that losing two years of your life is a little stressful,” she counters, and he laughs again.

“You haven’t lost anything. Just misplaced them for a while.” He steps toward her, like he wants to touch her, comfort her maybe, but freezes, thinks better of it. She’s torn between wanting to get to know him better first and wanting to jump into his arms immediately, so she decides to let him set the pace. “So… Do you want to come home with me?” His voice is soft, hopeful, matching his eyes. “Garcia—our friend, another coworker of ours—has offered to put you up at her place if you’re not comfortable with that, so no worries either way. You have a place to go.”

Her stomach sinks a little at the thought of being anywhere but home, even though she has no idea where that is, and she looks back at Emily, who smiles encouragingly.

“I think I want to go home,” she decides after a moment, and she turns back to look at Aaron. “Is that okay with you?” He nods seriously.

“Yes, of course. I want you home with me. I just wanted you to know you had other options.” Emily slips past her, a hand on her elbow, and finishes gathering up her belongings while they talk. “The rest of the team is going to come over for a little bit, if you’re okay with that. The doctor said it would be a good idea, since you spend most of your time with them, but if at any point it gets overwhelming, let me know. No hard feelings if we send everyone home.”

“Okay,” she breathes, her head already swimming a bit just from talking to Aaron, and he does step forward, then, giving her her space but indicating that he wants to come closer, if she’ll let him.

“May I put this on you?” he murmurs, and opens his palm to display her rose necklace, the one she wears, must still wear, everyday. At least that hasn’t changed. “The EMTs gave it to me when they brought you in. I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping.” She nods, turns around, and he slips it around her throat, clasps it, brushes a careful hand over her neck to move her hair out of the way. “That’s better,” he says, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she sighs, wants to sink back against the heat of his body; she just knows how comforting it would be, how safe she would feel. Instead, she turns and smiles softly.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and then Emily appears at her side, making a face like she knows she’s interrupting something.

“Ready to get going?” she asks, handing Sophie’s duffle bag over to Aaron. “I’m going to stop at home and then I’ll head to your place.”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Emily,” Sophie says sincerely, stepping forward to pull her into a tight hug. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I remember more about you soon.”

“I’m happy I could be here, and I know you will. Just give it some time.” She pats her on the back, and then leaves the room.

Aaron carries her bag and leads her out to the parking garage, toward a standard federal issued SUV, and he opens the door for her, closes it behind her with a gentle smile.

Time to go home.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

[poguesofthebau]

memory breach

summary: while out in the field, you fall into the hands of the unsub. after the incident, your hospitalization hits the team a little too hard. to make matters worse, you wake up in the hospital with a foggy memory and some nasty injuries. on top of having no recollection of the attack itself, you seem to have forgotten about chunks of your life-- including spencer, your boyfriend. warnings: memory loss/amnesia, head injuries, gunshot wound, hospitalization

word count: 8.8k (the longest thing i’ve ever written) pairing: spencer reid x female!bau!reader

a/n: here comes the angst, y’all. this one was requested by @astrologics​! i wound up straying away from the request a bit, but i hope you still enjoy! as usual, reader is a part of the team (because i wish i was a part of the team so it always makes writing more fun for me). i don’t think i’ve ever done serious, real angst, so this is my first time including warnings. please let me know if i missed anything that should be included and i will add it!! also lmk if anyone would be interested in some potential spin-off blurb ideas from this one! they would take place mostly during the line breaks in this fic!

he knew you could handle yourself. spencer knew that.

regardless of having that knowledge, he still hated every moment of every case that required you going out into the field. if you were with another team member, spencer had to mentally remind himself that, i trust morgan with her. i trust jj with her. i trust hotch with her. i trust emily with her. i trust rossi with her. and i trust her with them. if you were going out alone, though, his inner monologue went rampant. no matter how many mantras of trust and faith he repeated in his own head, the worry was always more dominant. the only time he found peace was when he was the one with you.

it was silly, and spencer knew that. he knew that he should be able to trust you to not get yourself hurt. but, at the same time, he knew you had the same sense of urgency that he did when it came to saving lives. it was easy for both of you to get caught up in the desperation and rush of it all, and you’d both do whatever you believed necessary to accomplish the task of saving people in danger. the only time spencer was able to contain that urge was when you were by his side. if you were there, too, your life was also on the line, which made spencer a thousand times more cautious on the field. he knew one of you had to stay level-headed and logical, and he always took the reigns of that position when it had to fall upon either him or you. being the one by your side brought him a sense of comfort, but it also increased his sense of responsibility, placing him in the role of the rationally-thinking agent.

all of that-- essentially, his constant need to know you were safe-- factored into the terror spencer felt when you went into the house alone.

the case had been quick so far. maybe it was because the murders were happening in dc, which saved the team some time when it came to getting to know the case and its locations. there was no ‘wheels up in 30′ from hotch, or two-hour flight to a different state, or time wasted asking where in a local precinct you could set up, or unfamiliar drives to crime scenes. regardless, it felt like the unsub had fallen directly into your laps when the team figured out who and where he was, and for that reason, spencer was on his toes. however, it was undeniable that he couldn’t have possibly controlled the time frame of the case, especially the portion of it that had resulted in your entering the house without backup.

you’d arrived to the house with emily. you’d been sent together to the location from which the unsub snatched his latest victim, and after a witness statement, composite sketch, and description of the unsub, garcia was able to pinpoint an address within 5 minutes. much to spencer’s dismay, you and emily had been the closest to the location. so, as the rest of the team rushed to meet you at the house, emily was just parking the suv. when you pulled up, the two of you made a joint decision to go around the back first, agreeing that it’d be the easiest and most effective point of entry. the plan came to a head when you found a barely breathing victim on the back porch.

“she’s still breathing.” emily didn’t have a chance to say anything else before you darted into the house. by yourself. she glanced undecidedly between the door you’d disappeared through and the unconscious woman on the ground. just as emily twitched to follow after you, the woman below her coughed violently, and, with no outward actions to expose her internal hesitation, emily was holstering her weapon and crouching down to try to help the victim.

three minutes passed before the rest of the team arrived. from her position on the back porch where the victim had now come to but refused to be left alone, emily felt helpless. there she was, beside a woman who had been attacked by a violent serial killer, while her teammate and friend was inside with the murderer. it was a sickening feeling for emily to know that she was partially responsible for whatever happened next, but there was a louder voice in her head-- your voice-- telling her to stay where she was, and to save the person you’d come to help. for those three minutes that you were alone, emily felt useless.

then, she heard the suvs come to a screeching halt nearby. “here!” she immediately called, hearing the sounds of rushing and scattered voices and she applied pressure to the victim’s wounds. spencer was the first one she saw, and the relief that had come with the team’s arrival quickly washed away, only to be replaced by guilt. not giving him a chance to ask the question, emily raised a hand and pointed to the door. “she went in, reid, i couldn’t stop her.”

a look of horror crossed spencer’s face as he bolted through the door, morgan and hotch following quickly behind. spencer was now sprinting through the house, gun pointed and coworkers in tow. with every room he cleared, every room he looked for you in to no avail, his movements became fueled by more and more desperation. soon enough he was bounding up the stairs, and as he reached the second floor, his ears tuned in to the sound of a struggle. he could hear punches being thrown as he ran, and your voice calling out warnings his brain couldn’t register. the first two doors he threw open exposed vacant rooms. and then, finally, he found you. you and the unsub.

the moment spencer stepped through the doorframe, he was wincing. as the door swung open, the unsub was shoving your head backward, smashing your skull into the wooden wall behind you. spencer could hear hotch and morgan barking instructions behind him, but he was stunned into silence at the sight. in those few seconds, spencer swore he could hear everything going on around the entire world. but none of it mattered, because the things he was hearing weren’t factoring into his thoughts at all. all he could focus on was what he was seeing happen to you. he didn’t hear morgan yell gun, and he didn’t hear hotch shouting reid, back up. he was still moving forward, toward you, when the two consecutive gunshots went off. he saw you collapse, hitting the ground with a thump that made him nauseous. his peripherals caught the unsub doing the same, but the thud of him hitting the ground didn’t even begin to register in spencer’s mind.

within a split second, spencer was beside you on the ground, calling your name and praying to gods he wasn’t sure he believed in that you would open your eyes and just see him. his ears were ringing at that point, but his vision was only getting sharper. he spotted the blood on the floor surrounding your head first, and then he realized that your blood was coating his hands. he turned your head, simultaneously finding the inevitable head injury and concluding that the blood on his hands had to be coming from somewhere else-- your head was in bad condition, but it wasn’t a realistic explanation for the puddle of red beneath you. “no, y/n, hey. no, no, no,” he muttered, hands hovering over you as his eyes scanned your body for a secondary injury. it didn’t take him long to find the gunshot wound in your shoulder. “no, y/n, wake up, honey. you have to wake up.” tears were streaming down his face, impairing his vision, dropping onto your face beneath him.

suddenly hotch was there, kneeling on the other side of you. spencer watched his superior put pressure on the source of the blood, and he knew he needed to do something. you were unconscious and bleeding right in front of him, and he couldn’t think of anything to do? what kind of genius was that? he needed to--

spencer’s inner monologue was interrupted before he had a chance to think of how else he should’ve been helping you. his sight was still blurred by tears, but he was able to recognize the uniformed paramedics beside him. hotch made his way around your limp body, gently grabbing spencer by the shoulders and lifting him up so the paramedics could get you onto a gurney. when he realized he was being moved away from you, spencer began to fight. he shook himself out of hotch’s grasp, moving to dive back down to your level, but being intercepted by morgan’s bicep reaching out and taking hold of him. “let me go! let me go, morgan! i have to-- i have to--”

“hey, kid, hey,” morgan was calling out, shaking spencer to get his attention. spencer’s eyes flickered quickly to the man once before settling back onto you. he was still crying, something he’d forgotten about until he watched you being lifted onto the gurney. “i know you gotta stay with her, reid. just stop for one second. look at me. reid.” his last word was gentler than the others, almost pleading with the younger man. with a few seconds of hesitation, spencer tore his eyes away from your tarnished body to lock eyes with morgan. the eye contact was intense. if he wasn’t so racked with worry over you, he would’ve felt exposed and uncomfortable. right then, though, he was too caught up in his thoughts of you to contemplate the way morgan was staring at him. “reid.”

spencer blinked, a few stray tears escaping as he adjusted to seeing morgan instead of you. his mouth opened and closed a few times, but he settled on shaking his head in place of trying to use his words. “i can’t-- if something happens, morgan, i--” the lump in his throat forced him to stop speaking, and he swallowed a few times before resorting to shaking his head again.

“hey, kid,” morgan said. spencer’s eyes had dropped to the ground, and it was morgan’s turn to glance back at you. the paramedics had successfully lifted you onto the gurney, and they were starting to roll you out of the room. “are you gonna be alright in that ambulance? because, i know you need it, but if you can’t handle it, man--”

spencer heard the wheels of the gurney through morgans words, and his eyes lifted back to you. “i have to go with her, morgan. i can’t not go.” morgan looked at spencer one more time, trying to find any sign of a lie in his eyes, before finally releasing him. and then spencer dashed out of the room after you, trying to mentally brace himself for whatever would come next.

the ambulance ride had been torture. and then came the waiting around at the hospital.

as cliche as he knew it was, he had truly never loved someone as much as he loved you, and certainly never in the way he loved you. there was something indescribable about the two of you together. neither of you were ever able to put it into words, no matter how hard or how often you tried. you were something like spencer’s best friend, guardian angel, twin flame, and soulmate all rolled into one human, but there was so much more to you than being his. you were kind, and loving, and certain, and stubborn, and selfless, and so many other things. even a person as intelligent as spencer couldn’t think of all the words that existed to describe you. on multiple occasions, spencer had coined you as “everything” when someone asked what you were like, because it was the most accurate word he could come up with.

of all the things spencer had seen in his life, all the trauma and bad experiences, this had to be the worst. and it was the worst because it was you-- the last person he would ever want hurt.

“hey, reid.” once again, spencer was cut off from his own thoughts. this time, though, it was by garcia, whose voice was gentle as she approached. he glanced up from his seat in the stiff hospital chair in the hallway, spotting his friend in her bright outfit complete with a flower in her hair that would’ve irritated spencer at that moment had anyone else been wearing it. however, this was penelope, and while spencer wasn’t in the mood to chat very much, he was relieved to see she was the one who’d been sent to see him. out of everyone on the team, garcia had the highest success rate when it came to providing him any possible level of comfort. the rest of the team was piled into the hospital’s waiting room just around the corner, but spencer had talked himself into a seat significantly closer to where you were currently being operated on. the first two hours of your surgery, he sat silently in the waiting room with the team, but he convinced himself he’d go crazy if he wasn’t as close to you as possible, which had eventually landed him a spot in the corridor. he’d been there, apart from everyone else, for almost an hour. that hour seemed like nothing compared to the three you’d been in surgery.

“hi, garcia.” his voice was quiet, and penelope frowned when she realized he was still in the same mindset as the last time she saw him. realizing the woman wasn’t planning on leaving him alone, spencer cleared his throat before adding, “there’s, um-- there’s no word yet.”

penelope sighed, moving to sit in the vacant chair beside him. “i figured. but, actually, i wasn’t here for updates. i wanted to see how you were holding up, but it doesn’t really seem like you are holding up.” spencer scoffed a laugh at that. garcia unintentionally (and usually unknowingly) putting her foot in her mouth had always been one of your favorite things about her. “reid?”

he sighed then, succumbing to the weight of her stare and looking at her. “i’m scared, penelope.” his words were a whisper, and that whisper snapped penelope garcia’s heart in half. she loved reid, and she loved you, and you both deserved so much better than this. it was a frustration that truly never left her-- why did the people she loved, the best people, always have to go through the worst events?

“i know, honey,” she nodded, blinking back tears. “i’m scared too. the others told me i shouldn’t act like i’m scared in front of you, but-- well, we both know i can’t really fake a smile.” she reached over and grabbed spencer’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze and feeling the pressure being returned almost immediately after. “she’s strong, reid. so strong-- stronger than any of us. this is y/n we’re talking about. she’ll pull through. if not for the team, or for herself, she’ll pull through for you. i know she will. she has to.”

spencer looked at her, a twinge of hope in his eye at her words. sometimes, he thought no one could see you and him. it was such an intimate feeling, being in love, that he often forgot that people around him could gauge that love, too. and, knowing garcia, she was able to gauge it much better than most others. spencer’s lips stretched into the slightest smile at the thought, but before he could answer, his attention was grabbed by the sound of footsteps approaching. he raised his eyes to see who would turn the corner, only to find jj, morgan, hotch, rossi, and emily. confusion rushed over spencer, and the anxiety in his stomach that had been subdued by his conversation with penelope came flooding back. “what is it?”

morgan smiled comfortingly. “we came to see what was taking garcia so long with the snack delivery.”

“oh!” garcia reached into her pocket with the hand that wasn’t in reid’s, pulling out a packet of vending machine cookies. with a smile, she handed them over to spencer. “i almost forgot.”

“i wanted to come alone,” jj interjected lightheartedly. “but then we got into an argument about who to send, so here we all are.”

the next to jump in was hotch. “how are you?” the simple question seemed to jar spencer, slowing down the rest of the chatter swirling around the group of agents.

spencer couldn’t find the words to answer, and he soon felt garcia squeezing his hand again. his eyes met hers and he smiled sadly, eyes then panning around to see the faces of his friends. the last person his sights landed on was emily, who looked like some combination of a kicked puppy, a guilty teenager, and a remorseful child. the expression on her face only hurt spencer more, and he made a quick decision upon seeing it. swiftly, he stood from his seat and let garcia’s hand slide out of his. not losing eye contact with emily, he took two steps toward her before engulfing her in his arms. for a second, she was stunned. in all honesty, she expected spencer to be mad at her. mad for leaving you, mad for not following the rules, mad for anything. and she wouldn’t have blamed him. but here he was, holding her in his arms like she was the one who had been hurt. a second later, she hugged him back, burying her head in his shoulder and letting the tears fall through a whispered, “i’m so sorry.”

ignoring the tears that were falling from his own eyes, spencer rubbed emily’s back reassuringly and muttered back, “it’s not your fault, emily.”

as the two agents released each other from the embrace, the operating room doors swung open. “y/n y/l/n?”

“yes, that’s me-- that’s us,” spencer immediately confirmed. his heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt like his breathing had completely halted. “is she-- is she--”

“she’s okay,” the man said with a faint smile. the entire team physically deflated before the man, a rush of relief flowing through all of them. before the doctor could give any more details, penelope was enveloping emily in another hug, and morgan was wrapping an arm around spencer’s shoulders with a beaming smile. spencer, however, was still looking expectantly to the man in scrubs, eyes wide as he waited for the rest of the news. “we were able to dislodge the bullet from her shoulder, and the gunshot wound is all stitched up and ready to heal.”

“what about the head injury?” spencer couldn’t handle the suspense. in fact, he was growing a little impatient with the doctor, and that impatience was quickly morphing into anger. he needed answers-- he needed to know if you were truly okay.

“there have been some complications with the head injury.” and, just like that, the rest of the team was holding their breaths with spencer. “she had a skull fracture and a severe concussion. she’ll have some visual impairments when she first wakes up-- trouble seeing at first, which should decrease to light sensitivity and some general blurriness. i know you’re all used to seeing her very mobile, but she’ll have lots of muscle weakness when she comes to. she’s going to be fragile.”

“is that everything?” hotch’s voice sounded off from the group.

“not quite,” the doctor sighed as he scanned the group and continued. “the visual impairments that i described, they’ll be due to direct trauma to the occipital lobe. however, there was some damage done to other parts of the brain as well, and there’s a decent amount of swelling in her head that hasn’t gone down yet. we’re not certain, but we’re afraid that swelling may have in impact on memory.”

after a beat of silence from the whole group, rossi took initiative in speaking next. “what does that mean, an impact on memory?”

“putting it in simple terms, we’re expecting her to have a degree of amnesia when she regains consciousness. there’s no way to be certain until she’s awake again, but it is likely that she won’t be able to recall most details of the event, and that memory loss could also extend to longer-term memories.”

morgan’s arm dropped from spencer’s shoulder then, and he turned to see his younger friend’s reaction.

to put it simply, spencer looked like the world had stopped spinning. “you’re-- so you’re saying-- she might not remember us.”

the doctor nodded morbidly. “again, we’re not completely certain. it’s possible her memory loss will be minimal, but you should all have some awareness of the possibility that she may not know you right now.”

spencer blinked a few times, feeling the world around him distort. how am i supposed to do this? how is this going to be okay? how is this really happening? his feet took him back a few steps and he dropped into the chair he’d previously stood from. his head fell into his hands, fingers raking through his hair as he tried not to lose his mind completely. a part of him was convinced that he was dreaming-- there was no way any of this was real, right?

“okay,” hotch said wistfully. as hard as this news was hitting him, too, he knew the rest of the team would need someone to take the reigns in a situation like this, and he knew he was that person. “what happens next?”

“she’ll be brought into a recovery room for the next few days-- she’s being brought over to a room as we speak. we’ll monitor her closely, and the meds that kept her out during the surgery should wear off fairly quickly, possibly within the hour. until she wakes up, one of you will be able to be in the room with her at a time, and once we can get an idea of how she’s doing, the rest of you will be welcome to see her.”

“reid,” hotch called, turning to look at him. when they locked eyes, a part of hotch’s facade shattered. his eyes softened, the hurt and fear in spencer’s eyes too powerful for even aaron hotchner to mentally omit. spencer sniffled, roughly wiping the tears from his face as he stood again. he stepped up next to hotch, nodding at him. spencer turned to face the doctor, but was quickly stopped by hotch’s hand on his shoulder. when he turned back to face his boss, hotch’s expression had changed. now, he was looking at spencer with an expression that told him he knew what he was going through. “are you sure that you’re okay to see her right now?”

“i have to be,” spencer whispered. hotch searched spencer’s eyes for another moment before finally nodding submissively and letting his agent follow the doctor through the hospital to the room where you were.

spencer had hated the ambulance ride, and he’d hated sitting in that hospital chair not knowing if you were okay, and now he hated looking at you like this. there was bruising under your eyes-- a nurse, not knowing that spencer could figure it out for himself, had explained that the bruising was due to the skull fracture and the swelling in your head-- and he could just barely see the gauze poking out from under your hospital gown, covering the stitched up gunshot wound you’d suffered. he could still make out a tinge of makeup smudged on your face, and your hair was in a tangled, disheveled mess, with more white gauze wrapped around your head. he counted twelve additional bruises and cuts that hadn’t been on your body the day before, and those were just the visible ones. he knew there had to be more, hidden underneath the hospital gown and blanket that you were tucked under. your bottom lip was split open, and the sight reminded spencer of the moment just after the unsub had bashed your head against the wall. the vision of you hitting the ground flashed across his mind, and he suddenly remembered seeing your head bounce sharply off the ground, causing you to unintentionally bite down on your own lip. spencer cringed at the memory.

his eyes flickered down to your hands. immediately, he saw the tan lines on the index and ring fingers of your right hand, and a wave of nausea hit him. on a regular day, you would have a ring from your grandmother on your index finger, and the promise ring he’d gotten you on your ring finger. playing with the rings was a nervous habit of yours, and the entire team had picked up on the tendency a few days after spencer had gifted you the promise ring. from then on, it had become an inside joke among the team-- whenever you reached for that ring, morgan or jj made a sarcastic comment about you “thinking of your husband-to-be.” it was a small difference in appearance, but the thought plagued him. spencer was overwhelmed with discomfort at the discrepancy, and his eyes darted around the room to find the bag containing your personal items. he spotted the plastic bag on the nightstand to your left, and moved to grab it. after slipping the two rings back onto their respective fingers, spencer found himself sifting aimlessly through the rest of your belongings-- your badge, the necklace and earrings you’d been wearing, and your wallet.

trying to do anything to keep his mind occupied and his focus on something other than how hurt you were in that bed beside him, spencer pulled your wallet from the bag and flipped it open. his fingers grazed the faux leather absentmindedly, and before he could toss it back into the bag, his eyes landed on the one photo you always kept on your person. he slid the picture out of its slot in your wallet, blinking back tears at the memory. as he put your wallet back down on top of the bag, the wind was slightly knocked out of him at the rush of feelings. he found himself sucking in air harder than he should’ve had to, but before he could give in to the emotions, he heard the monitor beside him start beeping faster than it had since he arrived.

for a second, spencer was frozen in place as his brain stuttered at the idea of you having woken up already. the hesitation didn’t last long before he was spinning around to face you and getting visual confirmation of his suspicion-- you were awake again.

“um, hi?”

at the sound of you voice, no matter how confused or uncertain it was at that moment, spencer found himself guffawing in relief, tears pricking at his eyes as he grinned in awe. as his eyes locked with yours for the first time since you’d left the office that morning, spencer was on cloud nine. you were there, and you were alive, and you were awake, and--

she doesn’t know who i am.

the thought struck spencer harder than your waking up had. you were awake, but you didn’t know who he was. the smile vanished from spencer’s face, and the tears that were now spilling from his eyes became ones of agony. he felt a quick and sudden flash of embarrassment, realizing that he was crying in front of someone who had no idea who he was, and he swiped the tears from his face before taking a deep breath and giving you a sad smile. “hi, y/n. uh, i’m-- i’m spencer.”

the next few seconds felt like someone had their foot on spencer’s neck. you were processing his words as you held eye contact, blinking slowly a few times. he couldn’t place the expression you wore. all he could see in it was a twinge of confusion, but that didn’t seem to be the only emotion you were feeling. spencer opened his mouth to further explain, but you beat him to speaking.

“obviously, spence.”

now it was his turn to be confused. his eyes widened at your words, and he knew his cheeks were turning red as the heat rushed to his face. “you remember me?”

you were shaking your head lightly then, fighting the urge to wince at the pain that struck the back of your skull as you moved. “how could i forget you, doctor reid? you’re my best friend.” slowly, spencer’s face morphed again. and, this time, even you knew something was wrong-- at least, something other than you being in the hospital. “did i say something?” he sighed, shaking his head morbidly as he took a step toward you. he sat down on your bed, and you finally caught a glimpse of the small piece of paper he held in his hands. it was a picture. “what’s that?”

he opened his mouth to spew out some form of an explanation, but before he could get anything out, the door to your room was swinging open.

“miss y/l/n,” the doctor was calling brightly as he entered. “nice of you to join us again. how’re you feeling?”

a little disoriented by everything going on around you-- spencer acting so different, the beeping of the monitor you were hooked up to, the doctor materializing in your room who currently seemed to know more about you than you knew about yourself-- you looked between spencer and the man in scrubs a few times before settling on the latter. “i’m-- i mean, i guess i’m okay. a little confused, i guess, and my eyes kind of hurt, but fine otherwise.”

the doctor nodded, grabbing your chart from the foot of your bed as he approached you. he took out a light, flashing it in both of your eyes a few times before pocketing it again. “your eyes are looking good-- normal movement and coloration. do you remember anything about what you were doing just before you lost consciousness?”

you thought for some time, finally realizing what was happening. there were chunks of your memory missing. “honestly, i don’t think i remember much. i can’t say what the case was, but i know we were working one.” spencer watched you from the side of your bed, seeing the gears turn in your head as you tried to recall whatever you could. “i think i was with... jj-- no. no, i was with emily, and we found the vic. she was breathing, so i went in the house and emily stayed with the girl. i know i went in. i-- i can’t remember what happened after that. i can’t-- why can’t i remember what happened after that?”

“because you found the unsub, y/n.” spencer’s voice was low, and it held a weight that told you more than his words did. you’d found the unsub, and it mustn’t have been pretty. suddenly you were aware of the dull ache radiating throughout your body, the pain exceptionally worse in your head and shoulder.

“dr. reid and the rest of your team can fill you in on the details of the case that your memory is missing a little later, but the more important matter is your injuries. you sustained a skull fracture and concussion, and you were shot in the shoulder. aside from that, you’re pretty generally banged up, but that head and shoulder are our biggest concern right now. you seem to be doing better than we were preparing for, which is amazing. some nurses will be in soon to poke at you a little more, and you’ll have to spend a few more nights here for observation, but we’re expecting a full recovery physically.”

you had a million questions flying through your head as he spoke, but when the doctor asked if he could do anything else for you, you found yourself shaking your head and dismissing him. for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint, you felt like you needed to talk to spencer before anything else-- you needed him to fill in the holes for you. there was no one else you would trust to do it. why was there no one else you would trust more than spencer? what didn’t you remember that made him the one you needed to hear all this from?

“do you want me to go get the others? everyone should still be here-- jj, emily, hotch, morgan, rossi, and garcia. they wouldn’t leave until you woke up.”

“if it’s okay, i would rather talk to you first,” you told him. he nodded, glancing back down longingly at the picture he was holding. he sighed again, and looked back at you with sad eyes. “spence, what am i missing?”

he held the photo out for you to take, and when you got your first real look at the entire photo, your heart shattered.

in the picture, spencer was standing behind you with his chin resting comfortably on top of your head. his arms were wrapped around your waist, and your hands were resting on top of his. both of you were grinning, and it was clear in the photo that you were trying to peek up at him, head tilted up toward his. when you blinked, you swore you could hear spencer laughing from behind you, or feel his arms wrapped around you, or see garcia grinning and calling out directions through giggles as she snapped the picture, or emily, jj, and morgan cheering behind the camera. you tried to grab onto the snapshot of a memory, but it was gone as quickly as it came. the frustration was clear on your face as spencer watched you analyze the image, and he felt a stab to his heart at the fact that this was harder for you than it was him. he heard you swear under your breath as your eyes skimmed the picture one last time. your eyes fluttered shut for a second as you tried to remember anything, but all you could see were those same four flashes of the same memory. you knew you should’ve been grateful that you remembered anything on your own, but all you could focus on was the idea that you had an entire relationship and all you knew of it was one picture.

“are you okay?” spencer’s gentle voice pulled you out of your own mental abyss, and you forced yourself to open your eyes and look at him.

“i’m--” you glanced down at your hands, flinching when you saw the two rings on your fingers. you remembered those rings. “i’m so sorry, spencer.”

spencer was shaking his head at that, his hand finding its way into yours and giving it a squeeze. “there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“yes, there is. i-- i went into that house by myself, and i don’t know exactly what happened when i did, but i know it landed me here, and i know i can’t remember things that are important to me, and i know how you probably feel right now, and i’m sorry for that. i shouldn’t have gone in alone. if i hadn’t gone in alone, i would remember everything about us right now, and even though i don’t remember, i know i want to, and i know i should.”

“it’s okay. y/n,” as he called your name, his hand slipped under your chin to lift your head, and with the softest touch, spencer was forcing you to look at him again. “i didn’t think you were going to remember who i was at all. it’s not perfect, but it’s best case scenario that you even know my name. we can always make more memories, okay?” stray tears slipped out of your eyes as you nodded at him.

“can i ask you some questions?” spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile at the question as he nodded. his hand slid back into yours, and you laced your fingers through his without a second thought as you spoke. “what’s today’s date?” spencer answered the question without a second’s hesitation, and you nodded slowly before speaking again. “how long have we been together? can you tell me the story?”

“of course i can.” the smile on his face was genuine then, and seeing it caused a swirl of hope and adoration in your stomach. you couldn’t remember finally getting with spencer, but you remembered how he’d made you feel before. you knew you loved him. “i loved you for so long before i finally told you. it was morgan and penelope, really. you’d told penelope that you liked me, and somehow you didn’t believe her when she told you all of the bureau already knew how i felt about you. morgan scared me into telling you how i felt-- he gave me the whole “if you don’t tell her how you feel, she’ll end up with someone else” speech one night when he knew you and i were supposed to hang out-- platonically, of course. it was six months ago, and we were supposed to go to the movies together-- i couldn’t tell you what we were supposed to see, even if you asked. you chose a movie, and i just went along with whatever you suggested because i was too scared and too lovestruck to question you. i picked you up from your apartment, and we started talking about our most recent case before that night while we drove there. when i parked, you said we couldn’t go into the theater for another ten minutes because the previews hadn’t started yet, so i took that as my cue to confess, i suppose. i rambled for a while before i got to the point, as i tend to, and we spent the next four hours talking in the theater parking lot. we missed the movie, but we agreed that it was worth missing for our first kiss after unknowingly pining over each other for a year.”

“so penelope wasn’t lying when she told me you had feelings for me, too?” spencer laughed and shook his head. “that’s good to know.”

“did you have anything else to ask?” you smiled at him, shaking your head lightly. “would it be okay if i went and got everyone else? they’re pretty worried about you.”

“i did take a bullet and get my head cracked open, so that makes sense,” you sarcastically replied. you were acting so much like yourself that spencer almost forgot the truth of your condition. if he hadn’t just recounted that story for you, he would’ve thought you had all the same memories he did. he moved to stand from your bed, but your grip on his hand tightened before he could get far. “do you mind just sending a nurse to get them? i’d like it if you stayed with me, if that’s okay.”

so spencer pressed the button by your bed to call in a nurse, giving you a few seconds of free time to wrack your brain for all the memories you could grab onto.

the next two days were essentially the same.

nurses would come into your room, ask you a few of the same questions, check a few of the same stats, change your bandages, and give you updates on your condition. spencer stayed with you, only leaving once when you sent him home to shower and get an outfit that hadn’t been pulled out of his go bag. during those three hours that spencer was gone, you’d called your doctor into your room. you hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of spencer or the team, but the fog surrounding your memories was beginning to dissipate, and you needed to know where that put you. it was hard to keep from the people you loved, but you didn’t want to get their hopes up for your mind’s full recovery if it wasn’t medically possible.

by the end of the first day you were awake, you’d remembered more than you admitted to. from the second spencer started telling the story of your first kiss, you were able to remember things he assumed were gone forever. you knew that two months into your relationship, the team finally caught on. you knew that spencer had said ‘i love you’ first, and you knew he’d said it while he was half-asleep as the two of you were curled up in his bed after a night out with the team. you knew hotch gave you both his permission to pursue a relationship while also maintaining professionalism in the field and office, and you knew that was a line you and spencer never crossed. you knew that the first time you ever wore his cardigan to work, thinking nothing of it, morgan and emily had teased you for it for the rest of the day, even assigning you a new nickname of ‘mrs. cardigan’ from then on. you knew spencer had given you a promise ring for your four month anniversary, and you vividly remembered how nervous he’d been to present the gift, and how hard you’d cried when you realized spencer was the one.

the last memory you’d recovered before sending spencer home so you could discreetly converse with your doctor was the memory of the picture. it was the first trace of your relationship you’d seen after being hospitalized, and it was the one that triggered the rest of your memories. whenever you tried to unlock the mental images of that day, you wound up recalling other events instead. after a day and a half of trying and failing miserably to remember the day that picture was taken, you made a mental decision to reveal your recovered memories to anyone around you only when you could successfully recount that day. and, finally, after all that energy you put into trying, you remembered it.

when you finally revealed to the doctor that your memories were recovering themselves with the help of your team being around, you didn’t get the reaction you were expecting. you’d braced yourself to be scolded and maybe even lectured for keeping valuable information from your doctor, but all you got was a chuckle. when he laughed, your face contorted into such profound confusion that the doctor laughed again. “i don’t mean to laugh, really. it’s a serious matter, as i’m sure you know, but it’s a bit of a comical situation, especially considering that i know your memories are coming back on their own.” your eyebrows raised at the claim, and the doctor continued with a genuine smile. “i deal with amnesia patients more often than you might think, and i’ve learned the signs. i know when my patients are progressing, and i know when they’re regressing. it’s been clear to me for a while now that you would be ready for discharge by tomorrow.”

“discharge? as in, sending me home?” the doctor nodded. “are you sure i’m ready for that? i mean, i’m starting to remember things, but how can you be sure that i’ll keep remembering?”

“from the moment you woke up, miss y/l/n, you were exceeding our expectations for recovery. based on that, i assumed your time here would be accelerated, and the changes in your physical condition have shown that you’ll be able to get closer to normal than you think you can. and, now that you’ve admitted to remembering so much, i’m even more certain of that. y/n, you’re regaining your memory. there will most likely be permanent gaps missing in your mind from the day of your incident, but everything else will come back eventually.”

“i’ll remember everything?”

“yes, you will. tomorrow you’ll be able to fill out the discharge papers and go home.” with one final smile, the doctor exited the room.

when the door clicked shut behind him, your face broke out into a grin a hundred times bigger than the smile the doctor had given you. you were going to remember.

an hour after your conversation with the doctor, spencer was walking back into your room. his bag was slung over his shoulder and he held a coffee in each hand. things almost felt normal in that moment, and you thought of the countless times he’d strolled into the bullpen just like that, loving smile on his face as he brought you your first dose of caffeine for the day. every time, he’d smooth a hand over your head in place of a kiss on the lips, and you’d gaze at him endearingly as you took a much needed gulp of the coffee. the thought of such normalcy brought a smile to your face, and spencer looked at you suspiciously. “hey, spence.”

he placed both coffees on the table beside your bed, dropping his bag on the floor as he slid into his usual seat. “hi, y/n. you seem like you’re doing better today.” you nodded at his assumption, and your enthusiasm only seemed to further confuse him. “i don’t have to be a genius to know that the odds of someone in your condition smiling like that from a hospital bed are very low. did something happen while i was gone?”

“kind of,” you eluded. patting the empty spot on your bed, you beckoned him to come closer. he moved to sit in the spot you’d directed him to, and as soon as he was settled, you were spilling a portion of the news. “i get to go home tomorrow.”

spencer’s eyes lit up at the revelation, a smile that matched your pasting itself onto his face. “y/n, that’s amazing! already? you talked to the doctor while i was gone?”

“i talked to the doctor while you were gone.” a giggle slipped past your lips at spencer’s expression. he was shaking his head at your actions, and you didn’t doubt that he was a little annoyed that he wasn’t there for the conversation. “i’m sorry, spence. i just didn’t want you to be here for it, in case it was bad news.”

“stop apologizing so much. that’s great news, y/n,” spencer insisted, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. his hand lingered on your face for a few seconds as you shared a loving look, and you leaned forward to press your mouth to his for the first time in days. spencer watched your lips close in on his, uncertain whether or not he should be kissing you right then. you’d made it clear that your feelings for him hadn’t changed, but he was still careful of his actions for a combination of reasons. one was your head injury-- spencer knew that a mishap as simple as your teeth clashing against his a little too hard could cause you an insufferable amount of pain, and he couldn’t fathom the thought of hurting you even more. on top of that, he was paranoid. despite your constantly insisting that you knew him, and you trusted him, spencer didn’t want to push your boundaries in your current state. no matter how many times he’d pressed his mouth to yours before, this situation made everything different, and all spencer wanted was for you to be as comfortable as possible. if that meant not kissing you for a few days, he would make the sacrifice. regardless of his reservations, spencer couldn’t resist but allowing you to connect your lips to his. kissing you again was a euphoric feeling for him-- he’d grown so accustomed to kissing you out of the blue, and kissing you hello, and kissing you goodbye, and the last few days had put a twist on that tendency. now, though, spencer felt like he was melting. it felt like your first kiss all over again. by the time you pulled back from him, spencer had almost convinced himself that you were sitting on his couch, or in your bed, or maybe standing in the elevator on the way up to the bullpen before your workday began. he let his brain play into the fantasy for a few seconds before he finally opened his eyes again, and the affection in your eyes almost knocked the air out of him. “i missed you.”

“i know,” you muttered, pressing your lips against his once again. “i would apologize again, but i don’t want you to yell at me.”

spencer laughed at your taunt, his thumb brushing across your skin as he replied. “you always do that. i mean, you’re always so overly-apologetic. it’s one of the things that made me start to love you-- no matter how redundant they are, your apologies are always genuine.”

you hummed in agreement, not thinking twice before you replied. “you always say that. i don’t know why you can’t just accept my apologies. everyone knows apologizing is one of my favorite pass-times.” spencer squinted at you then, his head tilting slightly at your words. you could see the question in his eyes, and you bit back a smile as you answered it without hesitation. “spence, did you really think i could forget you? forget us?”

“you remember?” instead of responding verbally, you grinned. awe was clear on spencer’s face, but no matter how surprised he was at the news, he couldn’t help but smile with you. “since when?”

“i started remembering little things as soon as i woke up. when everyone else came in, and you guys started telling me stories, it was like somebody broke open a dam full of my memories. i still don’t remember every little detail, and the doctor says i might never remember my fight with the unsub, but a new memory is coming back to me every hour now.”

relief rushed over spencer, and he hung his head as he processed everything you’d just said. you remembered, and you were going to keep remembering. you gave him a delicate nudge when he didn’t look at you, and there were tears running down his face when he finally locked eyes with you again. he took a shaky breath, and you slid your hand into his as he spoke. as soon as his mouth was opening, his eyes were dropping back down to where your hand held his, but you allowed him to speak without any further interruption. “i was so scared, y/n. i-- i watched him hit you, and shoot you, and-- i didn’t know what was going to happen. maybe it’s selfish, but all i could think of when you were in surgery was what i’d do if you didn’t make it out. i still don’t have an answer-- i don’t think i could ever recover from losing you. and then they said you wouldn’t remember us, and it felt like i’d already lost you. i thought that i did something to deserve this, or that maybe this was finally the end of the only good thing i had. i’ve never been more petrified than i was during all of this. i never thought i would love someone like i love you-- as much as i love you. and then i thought i had watched you die, and then i thought i would just be erased from your mind forever, and i--”

“spence,” you called out gingerly. “you know none of this is your fault, right? no one could’ve kept this from happening but the unsub. and either way, we beat him. we won. he tried so hard to take me from you, to take me from everyone. and guess what? i’m right here, and so are you, and he’s rotting in a cell where he belongs.”

“and that’s how it should be. except he belongs in a cell. you don’t belong in a hospital bed.”

“hey. look at me.” spencer’s eyes met yours, searching for any ounce of comfort within them. he found serenity in your eyes, and your words brought him even more peace. “i’m in a hospital bed with you. as long as you’re with me, there’s no place i’d rather be.”

finally, spencer gave in to his urges and planted his mouth on yours again. as he kissed you, spencer found peace in your words. as much as this had hurt him, and as much as it had hurt you, it hadn’t broken you. you were still together, and the love you felt for each other was still just as powerful as it had been last week. after all the panic he had been living with for the past few days, he could finally breath easy and let his focus return to you, because there was nothing more important to him. no matter how much he wanted to remain wrapped up in your lips and the tranquility they brought him, there came a time when his lungs compelled him to pull away and breathe again. when he looked at you, he didn’t doubt for a moment that the look in his eye was mirrored by yours. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more, spence.”

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: Their GF Has Superpowers

Kim Hongjoong:

It was after a party that you guys had with the boys that he found out. They were in the process of cleaning up, and all that was left was to take down the balloons, which he was doing. Being bored with nothing to do, you absentmindedly began to play around with a few decorations, making them float around in mid air. It was Wooyoung's piercing scream that had everyone's attention on the floating confetti that currently was making weird shapes.

"I fucking told you that old lady looked like a witch! But you still bought the decorations from her!" Mingi began exclaiming, as he shielded himself behind Yunho's body.

"How was I supposed to know she'd voodoo curse them?!" Hongjoong tried defending himself, but was scared to death as well.

Coming out of your trance, you realized you had to come clean about your telekinetic powers before they developed high blood pressure.

"Guys it's not demons...... it's me." You let out a sigh.

"Babe, now is not the time for jokes! The room has bad vibes and we gotta call an exorcist!" Hongjoong wasted no time and threw you over his shoulder as they all made a break for the door.

You protested, saying you'd prove it by opening the door, which you did, leaving them all stunned and frozen in place. You finally convinced him after moving objects that he asked you to move. Realization hit him that his girlfriend has super powers. He'd be so upset that you never told him.

"And in the 2 years we've been dating, you couldn't mention that fact instead of making me believe that other demons besides San existed?!"

Park Seonghwa:

You and Seonghwa had a very loving and open relationship, full of trust, neither of you hiding anything from the other..... Well except the fact you have the ability to know what anyone is thinking, even from kilometers away. You could just block it out, but being curious, more often than not, you found yourself wanting to know what your boyfriend was thinking. Even when he was away on tour, you connected your mind to his. Needless to say, sometimes there were some very impure thoughts at times, not that you minded.

It was one night, you two almost nearing your first year anniversary. Seonghwa and you were cuddled up in bed, just looking at each other and placing innocent kisses. But you knew better, you could hear how Seonghwa wanted to go further but obviously wasn't going to, thinking you weren't ready.

"I am ready and I want to." You casually blurted out.

"What?" He simply asked.

"I know you want to go further, and I want to as well." You assured him.

He blushed a little and ruffled your hair. "Wow it's like you can actually read my mind."

Biting down on your lip, you looked back up at him. "I can....."

Of course, he only released a soft chuckle, thinking you were obviously joking, cause no one can read minds. You proved that to be untrue, citing down examples of times you read his thoughts. You even made him think of several things, some deemed impossible to guess, and accurately relayed those thoughts into words. You left him stunned for sure, even flustered by your ability.

"Does that mean you even heard what I was planning to get you as an anniversary gift?" He asked, genuinely worried the surprise was ruined.

You poked his nose, assuring him you won't find out.

Jeong Yunho:

To say that Yunho loved how small you were compared to him is an understatement. He adored how tiny you were, it made him feel like your knight in shining armor, your personal protector and boosted his confidence in you needing him for stereotypical manly things, such as opening a jar a pickles.

What Yunho didn't know was that even though you seemed tiny and fragile, you possessed super human strength. You rarely showed it off though, preferring to keep a low profile and if it made your boyfriend happy, why spoil it? Unfortunately, your boyfriend likes to be spontaneous, dropping in on you randomly. It was during one of those surprise visits that he witnessed your true potential, in the form of you lifting up your marble dresser with one hand, like it was nothing more than a basketball. He just stood there with his mouth open, silence for what seemed an eternity.

"Well say something!" You finally exclaimed, hating the silence.

"How long have you had that power?" Yunho simply asked.

"Since birth........ are you mad?" You wondered if he'd be upset about finding out this information.

Instead, he just picked you up and spun you around rather happily.

"Are you kidding?! My tiny girlfriend has super strength! Is there anything cooler than that?"

Yes, he was ecstatic about this discovery.

"Do you know what this means?!" He asked you.

"What?"

"You'd beat Jongho in an arm wrestling match! Oh how I'd love to see his shocked face" A mischievous grin spread across his face just picturing the maknae's face.

"The possibilities are endless baby!"

Kang Yeosang:

You had a super natural ability of healing faster than any human possibly could. If a bullet shot you, you'd feel it as nothing more than a punch and in a couple hours you'd be perfectly fine. Not that the situation ever happened, just an example. And you weren't really the clumsy, accident prone type, so rarely ever needed to make use of your ability.

Which is why you often forgot about it and therefore never told Yeosang about your special gift. But it became known when he was playing around in the company building. While distracted by something, he left his skateboard on top of the stairs, and you happened to be walking over to see him. Holding a bucket of chicken, you didn't see his skateboard and therefore tripped on it, causing you to fall down an entire flight of stairs. Yeosang ran over to you, panic all over his face thinking about all the damage you probably had, he definitely heard bones cracking. But to his surprise, you sat up just fine, only rolled your shoulders back, looking in mint condition.

"You literally just fell down about 20 stairs, how are you not dead?" He questioned you.

You then remembered about your super natural healing and proceeded to explain why you're fine to him. He was silent for a while, but then nodded in understanding.

"Are you sure you're fine? Nothing's broken?" He was still worried about your well being.

"Just my shoulder popped out of place, but I put it back when I rolled them back." You assured him that you were fine and he had nothing to worry about.

You did however scold him for leaving his things scattered randomly. Had it been anyone else, he probably would have been guilty of an accidental murder.

Choi San:

Growing up, you enjoyed your ability to become invisible, both figuratively and literally. You liked keeping to yourself and didn't mind that no one ever noticed you. However someone did notice you eventually, and his name was Choi San. His eyes were always on you since day one and you were all he could see. It took a while, but he finally won you over and the relationship was going wonderful.

The problem arose when he started becoming more bold, more teasing towards you, that's when you weren't able to keep secret that you could disappear into thin air. Knowing fully well you just finished showering and were probably changing right now, he decided to 'accidentally' walk in on you naked. As soon as he opened the door though, the cheeky grin he had was replaced by utter confusion when you turned invisible before he could even get a good look at you.

"Holy crap! What the-!" He could not process what happened and became even more scared when all he heard was your voice telling him to get out and wait for you in the living room.

After putting on clothes and calming him down, you told him that you had invisibility powers. San was amazed and curious about your strange yet unique ability. He proceeded to ask you many questions, which you happily answered to him.

"Ok but if you turn invisible right now, would I be able to touch you?" He asked, while simultaneously reaching his hand to your face.

Song Mingi:

You honestly loved your ability to fly. Sometimes if you had a bad day, you'd just go to a secluded area and fly around without a care in the world. It proved to be somewhat therapeutic for you when you were stressed or sad. You hardly needed to make use of it after meeting Mingi, he was such a ray of sunshine and always there for you, that he became what you needed if you were having a tough time. He never knew about that part of your life of course.

Until one day when he was busy with schedule and you felt bored. You found yourself walking to your favorite place and began reminiscing about old times. Soon you were just happily flying around, thinking no one was around to see you enjoy what you had missed for a while. But Mingi saw. After a canceled schedule, he went looking for you, and having mentioned before that this was your go to place, he went looking for you. He did found you, flying around trees and seeing how gravity didn't affect you at all. Once you finally noticed him, you panicked and came straight back to solid ground.

"How, how long have you been watching?" You fidgeted nervously with your fingers.

"A good 5 minutes." He simply replied.

Your heart sank. What if he didn't like you after this? What if he thought you were weird? What if he would never want to see you after this?

He seemed to notice what you were thinking and he was quick to push your worries aside, pulling you into an embrace and kissing the top of your head. That said it all for you. He loved you and this wasn't gonna change anything.

"So.....by any chance, can you hold my hand and take me flying with you?"

Jung Wooyoung:

You came from a family of shape shifters. Your parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, could all shift into some type of terrifying beast. Wolves, tigers, lions, alligators, bears, you name it. So why the hell were you only able to transform into a weak little kitten? It was embarrassing for you growing up and for that reason you avoided shifting all together, it caused you to have low self esteem.

When Wooyoung came into your life, it was like a breath of fresh air. He made you feel beautiful in every possible way and suddenly you were more confident in yourself. Wooyoung never questioned what made you so insecure, knowing you wouldn't want to talk about it. Eventually he had to find out though, and he did during a family gathering of yours. While he was looking around the pictures, he noticed a lot were of fearsome animals. When he questioned you about it, you took a deep breath, and pointed out that they were your family. He didn't believe you obviously, until he witnessed for himself a few of your relatives morphing into their animal forms. He was genuinely intrigued by this and of course, wanted to dug deeper.

"So what do you turn into?"

You simply turned away, not wanting him to know and refusing every time he asked.

"Why not?!" He screeched.

"Because it's embarrassing!" You hollered.

"Come on! I just saw your grandfather turn into a black bear and scratch his ass on a tree, how embarrassing could it be?"

Sighing softly, you gave up and slowly morphed into the tiniest and cutest ragdoll kitten he had seen. A smile crept up on his face, before bursting into laughter.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!" Your squeaky kitten voice piped out.

"I'm sorry baby! It's just that it's too adorable!" He was definitely enjoying this.

Choi Jongho:

Speed was your thing. There was nothing that was faster than you on this earth. And it was somewhat euphoric for you. The adrenaline that rushed through you every time you ran faster than light was indescribable. You often wanted to show off your skills, but avoided it knowing how nosey people could be.

You felt attracted to Jongho because of his strength. You often wondered if maybe he was just like you, but you found out that wasn't the case. He had his limits. But you didn't. Of course, you wanted to tell him, you felt sure he wouldn't judge you or pester you about your speed. But you could never find the right moment. It came spontaneously, like the many things in your life. It was when you were watching him workout. Repairs were being made on the ceiling and that's what caused a small piece of it to fall off, almost landing on Jongho had it not been for you pushing him to the opposite side of the room, you landing on top of him.

He just blinked as he processed what just happened.

"Did you just yeet us into another dimension?" He chuckled.

You blushed and laughed softly before proceeding to tell him everything. He didn't need any more proof than what just happened.

"I always knew you were my special girl." He winked at you.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.