#never mind about feeling a normal amount awake i feel like my brain is currently swelling so bad i'll explode like that girl in the boa mv
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posted my stupid presentation assignment a cute 7.5 hours late to a class discussion so everyone can see that i posted it 7.5 hours late <3 but one of the people who was also meant to post today hasn't yet so i guess i feel a smidge less nauseous
#did you know they sell 300 mg caffeine java monsters bc i found out they sell those#i had a little over half of one and i feel almost a regulsr amount awake for it being almost 2pm after an all nighter#i'm gonna take a nap and get back to you probably#maybe a spot of lunch bc i took my meds this morning on a monster/gatorade stomach which is not ideal#never mind about feeling a normal amount awake i feel like my brain is currently swelling so bad i'll explode like that girl in the boa mv#watch the boa mv btw megan thee stallion is the hottest most talented woman alive#a post
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Not so Wyld morning // Bill S Preston + Ted Logan x M!Reader
Request: Â Â can you write a fluff oneshot with bill (s preston) x ted logan x m! reader with like. a sleepy morning between the three?
Requested by: @mlmpunisherâ
Summary: Starts off as the request, and then goes off on a trip to the Circle K. I may or may not have gotten carried away.Â
Warnings: a brief joke about kidnapping/death.
Words: 3.5K
Notes:Â Iâve been waiting for an idea/request for these two. Theyâre my comfort idiots. My love for them... Letâs just say I watch the movies a fair amount, eh? My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!
Not my gifÂ
You, Bill and Ted were spread rather haphazardly over Billâs bed. Legs crossed over one another, hands on chests or in faces. You were all tangled together, not that any of you really cared about that at that moment.  You had all fallen asleep during a study session- you had been desperately trying to tutor your boyfriends Bill and Ted, so that they didnât fail their history class and completely flunk out of school- mostly because Tedâs father, Captain Logan, was threatening to send the taller boy away to an Alaskan military school to whip him into shape should he fail the semester. That was now an all too real threat to the three of you, none of you wanted to get pulled apart from one another. You had been trying to quiz them on the philosophies of the great Athenian thinker Socrates (whom both young men insisted on pronouncing So-Crates no matter how many times you corrected them) when you passed out one by one. First Ted- who was up against the headboard, and whose head had slumped forward when you had gotten onto the fifth or sixth question. Then Bill, draped over Tedâs legs, after leaning back to protest about how the quiz was starting to become âA total drag,â around the tenth question. He had promptly passed out whilst you were telling him it was for their own good- you werenât all that surprised when you were interrupted by a rather loud snore coming from the curly-haired Bill.You hadnât bothered to try and wake either of them- not only would they both be rather irritable if you woke them up too early, but it was nearly one oâclock in the morning at that point, so you figured that perhaps they were both subconsciously onto something. You had taken the range and array of textbooks off of the bed, creating a little more space for you to somehow work yourself between them and get more comfortable to get some sleep of your own. After some shuffling, and a few murmurs from both Bill and Ted, you had found the perfect position, where you had promptly fallen asleep with them.
You were the first to wake up. Ted had taken your arm in both of his in your sleep, cuddling it as if it were a teddy bear. Billâs legs had somehow tangled with yours, and he had ended up nuzzled into the side of your chest, not that you minded all that much. Though Ted was the more affectionate of your boyfriends in public, Bill could be just as affectionate as him in private. You tried not to move at first, not wanting to disturb them- they could both be as bad as each other when it came to being woken up too early (too early was counted as anything before they woke up by themselves). So, for what you had gauged to be about twenty minutes or so, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. There were no thoughts of any importance that drifted through your mind at this point, not until you had finally grown restless enough to carefully push yourself up onto one elbow to check the time on Billâs alarm clock- which he rarely actually used as anything more than just a normal clock. It had just gone half past ten, and you felt your eyes go wide- that was much later than you had anticipated. Thankfully it was a weekend, though briefly your brain had tricked itself into thinking it was mid-week, causing even more of a jolt in your chest. You would have to get up soon to make your way back home; it was bad enough that you had spent the night out without letting your parents know that youâd be out past eleven oâclock. Every moment past nine in the morning that you spent away from them, the angrier they would get with you. With this thought in mind you tried to push yourself up a little bit more, fully prepared to undertake the rather massive task of trying to begrudgingly untangle yourself from the two men you held dear, but you were quickly brought back down again by an unseen hand. Your head landed on Tedâs stomach, and you glanced over to him, seeing him peering back at you through tired eyes and a rather messy head of hair. He gave you a rather dopey smile, and you realised he was the one to pull you back; mostly prompted by the fact that Bill was giving another round of freight-train like snores. Tedâs head fell back again when you didnât struggle against his protests of getting out of bed, and he gave a yawn before beginning to speak. âMorning, chief.â He mumbled, voice still raspy with the last dregs of sleep his body was trying to cling onto. âI donât get why you call me that.â You replied in a whisper, trying not to wake Bill. âSurely I should be the one calling you that- given your dadâs job and everything...â âEh,â Was Tedâs simple reply, accompanied with a rather lazy shrug. It was about a minute before the only other boy awake in the room started to speak again. âI mean, it does kind of suit you, doesnât it? You keep me and Bill in order...â He prompted, glancing over to you with that same goofy smile, before his gaze moved back to the ceiling. âFor the most part, I guess.â You smiled back at him, taking his hand and draping his arm across you, so you could play absently with his fingers. Ted never minded that.Â
The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence, which was disturbed only briefly, and rather inconsistently, by Billâs snores. You werenât sure how long you laid there for this time, but the rather delightful monotonous repetition was ultimately interrupted by a quiet groan of protest from the blonde haired boy at the end of the bed. He rolled onto his front, trying to cover his eyes- he had fallen asleep rather inconveniently where the light peaked through the blinds in the early morning. âSomeone close the blinds,â He complained, trying to turn away from them but ultimately failing. âBill...â You chuckled lightly, nudging him to get his attention. âThey are closed. The light is coming through the gap.â Your words were only met with a groan from Bill, and a stifled laugh from Ted. âYou should get it fixed, dude.â The taller boy jested, nudging the boy again, and Bill responded with a half-hearted swipe at Tedâs foot. âShut up, Ted.â Of course, he didnât mean this in an inherently horrid way, despite his gruff tone. He loved both you and Ted deeply, more than he could love anything else- or at least that was what he thought. Ted thought very much the same thing- though that was no surprise. More often than not, it was like the two shared the exact same brain. If they were not thinking of the exact same plan down to the detail when it came to schemes, they were at the very least agreed on the end result. Most of the time this wasnât too much of a problem for you- usually you were at the butt end of whatever shenanigan they were plotting- but there were times when you did get a little bit overwhelmed by the pair of them. More often than not, the times where you got overwhelmed involved a very particular phone-booth, with some rather unique properties. Unless you were in itâs presence you tried not to think about it- the amount of times you had been put through mind-bending situations already made your head spin to even consider again. Theyâd predict something, it would happen immediately after said prediction, then they would turn to one another and proclaim a quick âExcellent!â before reminding one another that they would need to remember that later. You were still a little bit confused by it- especially when they sprung something random on you-but you thought you were slowly starting to understand, even though the concept of time travel didnât seem quite real.Â
You broke your train of thought upon feeling a sudden weight on your chest. Though you wanted to crane your neck to see who it was, you didnât really need to, you knew it was Bill. You did it anyway- your eyes being met with the golden curls of Billâs hair. âBill, love, Iâm going to have to get up soon.â You warned him, as your movement would definitely affect him more than Ted. âNo.â He replied simply. From his tone, you could tell he didnât overly want to debate it. âBut I stayed over without letting my parents-â âYouâre fine, youâre safe, what do they have to complain about?â He grumbled, shuffling so that his chin was on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your middle. His deep green eyes met yours, before flitting briefly to Ted, giving you both a smile. âCâmon, dude. It wonât hurt to have a little longer with us, right?â He asked, and you moved your hand to quickly brush a stray curl from his brow. âMaybe he should go soon- like, just to check in.â Ted piped up, ever in your corner. âCause you know what happens if he gets in trouble. He wonât get to see us for like... A week. That is most heinous, and you know it.â At this rather right line of reasoning, Bill groaned, burying his face into the fabric of your shirt. âShut up, Ted.â This was quite muffled, and of course still not completely serious. You laughed softly, âOkay- what about this? One hour. Like this.Then, we can ask Missy to drive us back to my place, and I can let my parents know Iâm fine, and you two havenât like... Murdered me, or something.â You joked, and you can feel Ted nod enthusiastically underneath you. âYeah, thatâs a good idea!â He agreed, and you could hear the smile that was in no doubt plastered onto his face. âThen we can all head down to the Circle K afterwards, right?â âSure we can, Ted.â You agreed, reaching up behind you to clumsily pat his cheek. âOnly if he isnât in trouble, remember?â Bill pitched in, shuffling to get comfortable again. âWhat about half an hour? If we want to head to Circle K, obviously.â You all consider this new plan for a moment, before each of you gave a curt nod, in unison.Â
So there you all stayed- you nearly even fell asleep again before you felt Bill roll off of you. He then took your arm and helped you up, and Ted quickly rolled off of the bed to grab his sneakers. Bill chucked yours at you, before going to get his shoes as well. Ted was the first downstairs- âHey, Missy?â He called out, and he was quickly met with the young womanâs reply. âYeah? Whatâs up, Ted?â She asked, giving a warm smile. âWe were hoping that you could drive us to (Y/N)âs house?â He asked, briefly wringing his hands, as he eagerly awaited her response. âSure thing!â She nodded cheerily, âLet me just finish making these drinks, and Iâll be right with you. You guys go out to the car.â She nodded over to the door leading to the garage. As you and Bill started down the stairs, Ted eagerly gestured for you both to follow him. It didnât take Missy very long to finish making the drinks she was preparing, and you all piled into the car. âSo- did you all sleep well?â The blonde woman asked, glancing back at you and Bill in the back of the car- Ted had a fascination with sitting in the front seat. Ted and Bill nodded individually; you were the one to verbally reply. âYeah, I think we all got a fairly good night sleep.â You give an almost awkward smile. Though, at one point, both of your boyfriends had had some form of crush on her- despite her being quite a few years older than all of you- you hadnât entirely understood why. You never really mentioned it though. âGood to hear,â She replied, still wearing that joyful smile. âHey, Bill- you might need to use the spare key today, the one behind the plant, if youâre staying out late with the boys.â She took a turning as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the road. âMe and your dad are going out for dinner tonight.â âOkay, Missy- I mean, mom.â Bill replied, quickly correcting himself on his mistake. âJust stop on the corner here,â He told her, gesturing to the side of the road a five minute walk from your house. âAre you sure?â She asked, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. âI can take you all the way, if you-â âNo, itâs alright, thanks, Missy.â You interrupt quickly, leaning forward. âHere is fine.â She shrugged, but begrudgingly pulled over.Â
âThanks, Missy!â Ted called after the now fleeting car, giving a wave as well, before jogging to catch up with you and Bill, who had already started to cross the road to get to your street. âIâll quickly grab some money whilst weâre there,â You told the pair of them, and they nodded. âI was thinking we could get some slushies.â Ted suggested, giving a wide smile. âBlue and red?â Bill added, giving a smile of his own, and Ted nodded energetically. âOur tonguesâll end up as purple, you two know that, right?â You teased with a grin, glancing over your shoulder as Bill laughed heartily. It took Ted a moment longer to get the joke, but he started laughing even harder than Bill when it clicked with him. âOh well,â Bill shrugged, a rather mischievous smile. You fell into silence again as you jogged up your driveway, almost wrenching open the door and calling out a hasty âHey!â to announce your presence to the household and those within it. You quickly made your way to your room, as Bill and Ted quietly entered your home after you, choosing to stay in the hallway- even though they had visited and stayed over at your house many times before. They were both silently hoping that they were making their will to leave relatively soon clear. Your father came into the living room, glancing to the two boys standing awkwardly in the hallway. âBill, Ted.â He greeted, calmly. Bill mouthed a silent âHiâ, whilst Ted just waved. Neither of them wanted to anger your parents- Ted, because he knew how authority figures could be, heâd had experience with his own father, and Bill just didnât want you to be punished and kept away from them. You came back through as quickly as you could, palming some of your loose change in your hand, making sure you would have enough for a slushie for yourself, and for your boyfriends if they hadnât brought any money with them- which was more than likely. âGoing out again?â Your father asked you, wanting to make some sort of conversation. You nodded, glancing to him and giving a smile. âYeah, heading out to Circle K with Bill and Ted.â You told him. He was a lot more relaxed with the rules than your mother- whom you currently assumed to be out for lunch with one of her friends. âDid your study session go well, then?â âYeah- we went over Socrates again. We all passed out- thatâs why I didnât come home or call last night.â Your father laughed gently, he understood. âI figured as much. Your mother was saying that you could have been kidnapped- but I kept saying youâre a smart kid, youâd know what to do if that were a risk. Plus, I donât think thereâs anyone in San Dimas who would want to kidnap you.â âEven if they did want to steal him away, weâd take whoever it is on,â Bill stated, confidently- nudging Ted. âYeah, we would!â The taller boy confirmed with a nod. You giggled and shook your head at the pair. Even your father chuckled gently at them. âGood to know my son is in safe hands.â Though your father was aware that these two werenât the sharpest tools in the shed of San Dimas, he wasnât about to take away some of your only company. Your mother had brought it up to him before, but he usually elected to ignore the comments. âAnyway- get going, before your mother gets back. If she sees you going off with these to again without checking in properly sheâll have a fit.â He gestured to the door, âJust be back by eleven tonight, alright?â âWeâll have him back by then!â Ted told him, opening the door and striding out, followed closely by Bill, and then you. Your father gave a wave, before heading back into your family home.Â
There were few words on the journey to the local orange ringed store, you only started to speak again when you had each purchased your chosen flavour of slushie. Bill with strawberry, Ted with blue raspberry, and you with another blue raspberry. You all took a seat on the curb, and you decided to fill the silence with one of the first thoughts that came to your head mid-sip. âSo, are you two ready for the end-of-semester presentation Mr Ryan is going to assign?â You asked, and both of your boyfriends looked rather shocked. âWhat? Heâs done it with every other year-group, and weâre not exactly different, specification wise....â You pointed out, and Ted groaned. âI suck at presentations.â He complained, âPlus neither of us can remember anything that Mr Ryan has taught us!â He exclaimed, gesturing rather wildly with his slushie. âI mean, even with your help, dude, I donât think weâre going to do all that well.â You were about to speak, but Bill was the one to step in first. âWe gotta try, man,â He placed an affectionate hand on his boyfriendâs shoulder, âIf we donât, itâs even more likely that youâre going to be sent off to that heinous school in Alaska.â Ted considered this, then nodded. Bill was right. âIâll do everything I can to help my boys remember all they can,â You told them, a fond smile on your face which they quickly returned. They loved being referred to as your boys, they couldnât even deny it- you could see it in their eyes. Bill leant over and pressed a very brief kiss to your cheek- though not before checking the parking lot was clear, empty of onlookers- and Ted reached across Billâs legs to grab your hand, squeezing your palm to show some affection; you were too far away for a kiss from him, and he didnât overly want to get up whilst his slushie was still rather full. He took a sip from the plastic straw in his beverage, before clearing his throat. âSo..â He began, starting to grin wider than usual. âWho wants to make purple?â He nudged Bill, who then quickly looked to you, wearing the same grin as your other boyfriend. You started to laugh- of course this had been something that neither of them had forgotten.Â
Without another word exchanged between you, you leant to close the gap between you and Bill, letting lips and tongue tangle in a passionate display of affection. Ted stared on adoringly, not overly minding that Bill was the first to get your attention and affection- though now he had finished off the majority of his drink he scuttled round to your other side, carefully taking your jaw in his hand when you eventually pulled away from Bill to catch your breath. Your break didnât last for too long, since Ted pulled you gently so your already kiss swollen lips met his equally soft ones. Bill couldnât help the warm and love-filled smile that spread over his face, before he just had to press a kiss to your cheek, and then reach over to Tedâs cheek to make sure he wasnât left out. You all separated after a minute or so, and you wiped your lip carefully, wearing the same wide and almost goofy smile as the other two. Your lips, and tongue, as predicted, had turned a rather strange shade of purple. âI think we should get another snack,â Ted suggested, âCause Iâm hungry, and then we can get the colour off of our tongues,â He grinned, and Bill considered the preposition. âI guess some food wouldnât hurt...â He agreed, âMarshmallows?â He suggested, which was replied to with a nod from both you and Ted. âIâll get them then,â Bill smiled at you both, searching his pocket for some spare change as he got to his feet; marshmallows were a fair bit cheaper than slushies, and he could afford them with what he had to hand. Whilst he went back into the Circle K, you shuffled closer to Ted, smiling lightly as he drew you closer with an arm around your shoulder. That morning had certainly been most excellent, as most of the time with your boyfriends always was- it was something that you always looked forward to; spending time with them, making memories that would forever make you smile.Â
#bill and ted#bill and ted's excellent adventure#bill and ted's bogus journey#bill s preston esquire#bill s preston#ted logan#ted theodore logan#alex winter#young keanu#80s/90s keanu#keanu reeves#ted logan x reader#bill preston#bill s preston x reader#bill and ted x reader
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Hi there! Im not sure if I've requested from you before have I?
So I was wondering if I could have a one-shot Sadie/F!ChubbyReader? Something sweet that gets steamy.
I was thinking that it could be the readers having a rough time because she thinks she's unworthy of love and the fact that she's into women makes it even harder.
Take your time, no need to rush~
Feel free to message me if you cant/won't do this I understand Xx
You hadn't requested from me before, btw. BUT I really loved writing this one for you! I hope it's what you've been looking for <3 (I also hope there are no more errors left, I only proofread this once)
Rating: Explicit
Words: 2679
Warnings: NSFW, Low Self-Esteem Reader (Body-Image issues)
AO3
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
It was one of the rare occasions when camp was quiet, most gang-members fast asleep as darkness spread over Clemens Point.
You had missed the silence, already used to the rambunctious songs, to the laughter and chatter of the others. Even if those good times never were to last.
These days, it was hard to achieve happiness, to feel even remotely safe, your travels East having shaken the entire group to the core.
And sometimes, you wished you had stayed in the West, had bought land and settled down like you've planned, even if that might not have changed a thing.
When it was quiet, like now, your mind often wandered, drifted along with the sounds of rippling water.
It was nice here, better than it had been up at Colter, but you still felt out of place. And no amount of fresh air or crisp water could change that.
With a sigh, you leaned further against the log behind you, your arms crossed in front of your chest where you sat.
At least in the darkness, no one had to stare at you. Had to see you.
You could just be, with no obligations to be appealing to anyone at all.
Never before had Dutch sent you out to distract any targets, to use your good looks on unsuspecting fools like the other women at camp often did. Because you had none. Or so you told yourself.
Of course it was harsh, of course you had other things to offer. But with a couple pounds too many, with chub around your cheeks and your hips, you didn't feel as attractive as you wished you would be.
You envied Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly... if not for their appearance then for their confidence. And Sadie? Sometimes you wished you could walk a day in her shoes, that you could stop caring about what other people thought and put on some pants.
Though you feared you'd only get stared at more like that.
Time went by without you noticing. Maybe you've nodded off somewhere down the line, the sight of the water gleaming beneath the moonlight oddly tranquil and soothing to you.
Your thoughts continued to roam, continued to shift and flow like the water in front of you.
Occasionally, you'd see a fish jump out of the lake, would hear a nocturnal bird taking flight within the nearby trees. And you yearned to be free like them; free of judgment, of society's standards, and your own low self-esteem.
You wondered if they perceived beauty like humans did, if they stared down at the two-legged, wingless creatures, saw long and flowing hair idly whipping in the breeze, or a freckled face and bright eyes and fell in love.
It would be a loss if they didn't, if they were unable to see what you did â and you decided that maybe, being a human might not be all that bad.
Sure, all you could do was behold the beauty around you. You knew you would never get a chance of something more; knew you couldn't compliment the way Sadie's yellow blouse flattered her figure and receive more than a simple "thank you".
It had always been like that â you, finding beauty in another woman, finding beauty in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes and the way she strutted and sauntered along the way. You knew you couldn't change that, knew that you would never be 'normal', but hell, you didn't want to be. If there even was such a thing as normal.
In the past, and even up to the current day, you've struggled with it. With your sexuality.
You had come to terms with it, of course, but you knew that you only stood out more with your chosen way of life. If your body wasn't enough to keep people away, your orientation might just be, and it worried you, what the others might think should you ever come out to them.
It hadn't been your intention to grow upset, your brain doing it to yourself no matter what you tried to do about it.
So you sat and stared out onto the lake, gaze blank as you simply beheld the beauty all around. Watching, and doing nothing, as always.
The sound of boots upon sand drew you out of your thoughts, your head turning to see a familiar figure approaching.
She was tall, slim, her hair braided beneath her hat. A few strands hung loose, though that only held it's special charm.
"What're you doin' out here?" Sadie asked, sitting down on the fallen tree behind you. She kept a bit of a polite distance, crossing her legs as her elbows rested upon her propped up knee.
You swallowed softly, looked back ahead and out onto the wide lake. "Just thinking," you explained, unable to come up with anything else that might explain you being restless and awake at this time of day.
The other woman hummed, her own gaze trailing over the water in front of her.
It appeared black in the dark of night, only little light reflexes showing the movement of the soft waves.
"Did someone say somethin' again?"
Her sudden words brought you back to reality, the silence between you having stretched for a couple minutes before. It wasn't rare that the less pleasant people at camp upset you over your insecurities, pointed out facets of yourself that didn't need to be addressed.
You shook your head, anyhow. Today, that hadn't been the case. Besides, you never knew Sadie paid any attention to the treatment you received. "It's me," you mumbled after a moment of consideration. "Me who made me feel like crap."
And while you huffed at the words you spoke, they were genuine. Oftentimes, it was you who made your life harder than it had to be.
Sadie pushed herself off the log, plopped down into the slightly moist sand by your side. You watched her from the corners of your eyes, unsure what she was intending to do.
But she didn't do anything, merely sat with you and stared out into the water, thinking about what you had said before.
"I did that a lot," she eventually spoke up, turning to face you. "Guess it ain't the same, but Iâ sat and thought a lot, too. That never seemed to help." She chuckled, but the sound was rather mirthless, her tone more serious than anything.
You had seen her in the past, had seen her sitting outside of camp, far from anyone else. She's had a broken heart to nurse, had a terrible loss to get over, and in the end she had come out stronger than ever.
"You don't gotta tell me, if you don't want. Maybe it'd make you feel better, though."
Inhaling, you thought about her words, wondered if you would even be able to put your innermost thoughts and feelings into words.
Never before had someone asked you to share them, no one ever having as much of an interest in you as that.
"It's nothing," you tried to deflect, tried to invalidate your troubles in order to not burden Sadie with them here and now.
The woman snorted, however, raised a brow as she looked at you. "Don't look like nothin' to me," she pointed out, not impolitely.
"How about thisâ" she sat up, her back against the log as she gestured for you to come closer, to lean back against her chest.
For a moment you could only stare in disbelief, though you took the chance now that it was offered to you. It had been a while since you've last been physically close to anyone, after all.
"Comfortable?" Sadie asked. You gave her a nod, your heart racing in your chest and beating within your ears.
Holy Shit. That hadn't been how you'd imagined this night would go.
Sadie wrapped her arms around you loosely, rested her chin atop your head. She seemed content herself, seemed like she had wanted to do that for a long while. The thought made your heart skip a beat.
"I know you think you're worse than you are," Sadie spoke up again, keeping her voice low while speaking to you. It was oddly soothing, her usual rough tone sounding more than just pleasant to your ears. "But you ain't bad. Truth be told, I admire you."
That made you pause, your breath catching in the back of your throat. "Me? For what?"
She chuckled kindly, brushing through your hair to tuck a few strands behind your ear. "For knowin' who you are, and what you want. For stayin' true to yourself no matter what anyone says."
Yet again, you hadn't expected her to be all that perceptive, hadn't expected her to know much about you at all. For as long as you've known her, your conversations had been brief, cut short by your occasional shyness and nervosity. Sadie seemed to have read you better than you ever could've thought.
"I..." you weren't sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all. The woman's arms around you were soothing, almost soporific, though the warmth pooling within you made it hard to consider dozing off.
"I always wanted t'know more about you," Sadie continued, nuzzling the top of your head, her lips brushing over your strands of hair. "Wanted to know more 'bout the beautiful woman who's stolen my heart."
You were sure this had to be a dream, that you had passed out after all and your mind was playing tricks on you by now.
But Sadie felt as real as could be, her hot breath in the nape of your neck, her arms around your waist, thighs left and right of your hips. Whatever you had thought of before, all your insecurities and doubts, it all seemed far away by now.
"Meâ Me, too," you brought out, confessing to your feelings without directly doing so. Sadie was more bold and confident than you were, was more brave and straight-forward in your eyes. And just like she had said before, you admired her just as well. But most importantly, you were sure you loved her.
Feeling enlivened by her words, empowered by the warmth swelling within your heart, you turned around, straddled her lap and properly looked her in the face. "I think I love you," you properly confessed, cupping her freckled cheeks like you've wished to do for so long already.
She smiled up at you, keeping her hands on your waist for now as she leaned in, and captured your lips with her own.
The kiss didn't last as long as you've wanted it to, but upon pulling away, Sadie spoke up again; "I know I love you." Her smile grew, your forehead resting on hers when you returned the gesture.
Once your lips had met the first time, you couldn't stop yourself from going in for a second kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut, fingertips gliding along Sadie's sides and down to the hem of her shirt. Now that you knew of her feelings towards you, and were fully certain as those within yourself, you only wanted more.
She reacted in kind, teased your tongue with hers when her lips parted ever so slightly, a moan slipping into the kiss. You weren't sure if it had come from you or her, but that didn't matter much, not when your hands soon met bare skin, fingers gripping her sides while her own ran along your thighs.
"You wanna do this right here?" She asked, leaning back a little to capture your stare.
Slightly out of breath, you nodded. Hell, you didn't care where you'd do this, as long as you could feel her skin on yours.
Without missing a beat, Sadie worked on helping you out of your dress, glancing back, only to make sure camp was as quiet as it had been before.
Even if a few drunkards were still milling about, you couldn't care less, your fingers working on her buttons to relieve her off her top layer, before climbing off her lap to get her pants off her hips.
Naked, you laid back in the sand, invited her to follow you only for her lips to meet yours again. She placed her hat on top of your head, gave you a small smirk as her lips wandered lower, over your collarbone and down to your chest.
Moving boldly, her mouth latched onto one nipple right away, one hand kneading the other breast while she suckled and licked your sensitive bud.
Your breath hitched, spine curving to get closer to her heavenly mouth, your head already swimming without her having done too much just yet.
Soon enough, she had stimulated your other nipple to full hardness as well, laying down on her side next to you, and pulling you in for another kiss. "Let's keep this quiet," she muttered, her fingeres wandering once again until they reached your sex, a hum leaving her lips when she discovered the hot wetness there.
She caressed your folds, encouraged you to hitch one leg up and around her hip while coating her fingers within your slick. Slowly, her fingers circled your clit, made your hips jerk sporadically and your muscles tense here and there.
"Can I?" You had only pulled away from the kiss for a second, glancing at her while your fingers slid down her flat stomach.
"Be my guest," she grumbled, trailing lovebites along your collarbone and up to your shoulder, the small motions of her fingers on your clit steadily driving you insane.
To offer her the same kind of pleasure, your hand soon found the spot between her legs, met with an equal wetness as that between your own. You groaned, teasingly gliding your fingers through her folds before your thumb focused solely on her nub.
She gasped, almost sounding surprised, like she hadn't been touched there in a while, though that only spurred you on more. You wanted her to feel as good as possible, pulling away after another few moments only to propose another idea.
"I wanna taste you," you muttered, fingers disappearing from her soaked cunt as you laid back. Seemingly catching on right away, Sadie climbed on top, straddling your face while hers was right in front of your own crotch.
With the new position, you dove in without a moment's hesitation, held onto her hips and pulled her close as your tongue licked through her folds and up to her nub.
She moaned out, had to have bitten down on her lip to keep more sounds from surfacing before she leaned down herself, and focused on your clit right away.
Besides the sounds of your actions, the occasional slurping, squelching and your labored breaths, it was still mostly quiet, the area belonging solely to you in this moment.
You rolled your hips upwards, chased more of the heavenly feeling of her mouth on you as you felt yourself getting close.
Clearly, Sadie wasn't all that far, either, her abdominal muscles flexing while her thighs tried to squeeze your head, the motions of her tongue growing more desperate the closer she got to her climax.
It was over much too quickly, had been too long for you to hold back at all, your body tensing for a moment before releasing in a rush of endorphins that was better than anything you've had before.
You pulled back for air, slipped two fingers into Sadie's tight cunt to grant her a satisfying release as well, and watched, when she shook and trembled through her very own orgasm.
She rolled off of you after a moment, cursing under her breath as she did so.
It wasn't long before she crawled back up to you, however, before her lips met yours and you could taste yourselves upon each other's tongue.
"You fancy a midnight swim?" She asked when she pulled away, sitting back on her knees and helping you up when you agreed.
#Sadie Adler#Sadie Adler x female Reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 fanfiction#nsft#my writing#rdr2 requests#tw body negativity#anarchist-lolita
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A Fine Specimen-
Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.
Word count : 2.3k
Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.
The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.
Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didnât even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. Youâd think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.
The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasnât a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.
Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.
A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. Youâd describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasnât the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.
âHellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?âŠ..â, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.
So he knew your name? Itâs not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasnât listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if heâs even planning to.
A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, âYou probably donât remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.â
His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, â You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so itâs all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, itâs just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take overâ, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.
â You donât mind right?, Iâll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detailâ, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldnât just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didnât looked or acted sound of mind.
â Whatâs wrong y/n? Didnât that felt good?â, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesnât realise he doesnât have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe itâs your dazed state or the fact that youâve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.
The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, â Donât worry, Iâm going to take good care of you~â, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you canât refuse.
He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting youâre numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.
â Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!â, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.
â Letâs get serious now shall we?â, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violatorâs desire surge through his blood .
His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria youâve never imagine possible.
Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guyâs mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.
He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didnât belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.
â Iâm glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldnât swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of youâ, he spoke in a low baritone. â I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that wonât be happeningâ, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.
From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.
â Haaaa⊠Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.â, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.
In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.
â GojoâŠ..SatoruâŠ..â, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, â thatâs my name, so let me make youâŠ.. remember âŠitâŠ..â, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.
Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didnât pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.
âNext timeâŠâŠ Iâll make you say itâ, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.
#gojo satoru#gojou satoru#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen scenario#jujutsu kaisen Oneshot#smut#lemon#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw: yandere#tw: choking#tw: drugging#tw: non con#yandere#yandere gojo satoru#dark fic
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Can't tell me there's no point in trying
Summary:Â Â Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.
In hindsight, the exact memory of when they started researching how to travel back to the past is lost on him. Itâs just that he had been so devastated, after Tonyâs death, that his emotions had reached through to the only person that somewhat knew what he was going through. Peter didnât want to compare Wandaâs situation with his, after all, Wanda was the one that was forced to choose between the love of her life and saving the universe, but the weight of their grief was the same none the less.
Wanda had approached him while he was out on patrol, and though there was not set plan, Peter was willing to try anything to get Tony back. They started of their plan by seeking help from Doctor Strange, and when that hadnât worked, Â Peter had snuck in and stole -borrowed as he preferred to call it- a few books that might have been helpful for their goal. Between going to school, patrolling, putting up a front for his friends and aunt -and as of late Happy-, and searching endlessly for a scrape of hope, Peter had worked himself to the bone. It would all be worth it though, if their plan came to fruition.
It hadnât worked the first time, nor the second time, and neither did the third. Failed enough times that Peterâs heart sunk into his stomach, and that he carefully tried to convince Wanda to try something else. The spell was eerily straightforward with very little need for ingredients, nothing more then saying two sentences and having a personal item of the person they strived to reach, and if they hadnât managed to work it out in three attempts, Peter assumed, though the idea rendered him dejected, it would never work.
Until he went out on patrol again that night. One moment he was excitedly talking to Karen, animatedly retelling the story of how he managed to stop a bank robbery, as it the AI hadnât witnessed it, and the next he tried to shoot out a spiderweb to building so he could swing over, only for the web to hit nothing but air.
âOw, wowâ, Peter floundered, trying his best to reach something and prevent himself from slamming on the ground -again-, but he failed. He banged into a tree at full speed, colliding head first and tumbling down while hitting every branch possible. That was the first sign that should have tipped Peter off. There were no trees in the middle of Queens. Under normal circumstances, he would have considered that, but the heavy impact is not working well in his favor.
Landing on the ground on his stomach with a hard thud, his body, and specifically his ribs, screamed in agony, and he rips the mask off without considering his predicament. Anyone could walk by and see the face beneath the mask. Still, Peter canât breath with the way his ribs object, but at least without the mask itâs fresh air he inhales. Â
He turns around and struggles to get on his back. His hand instinctively slide over his stomach, protecting the hurting area. Come to think of it, every area on his body hurts. Peter knows the logistics of cracked ribs, and savvies that even with the aid of super healing, itâs not going to repair in a few minutes times.
He inhales as a small as he possibly can, despite knowing he shouldnât, and braces himself for running back to Mayâs and his appartement. He canât stay here, where anyone could walk up to him and attack him while heâs down. He laughs incredible, at least aunt May, and Tony of he was still here, would be proud of him for calling it a day.
When he blinks his eyes open though, heâs met with nothing but grass and green for miles, and a blurry vision that tells him he has a concussion. While trying to sit up, his visions spins like  heâs a part of a rollercoaster, and his stomach turns uncomfortably.
âOh no,â Peter moans, âaunt May is gonna kill me.â Itâs the only thing he can say before he has to swallow back bile and decides itâs best to be quiet from now on. He struggles to his feet, stumbling a few times before successfully finding his footing in the grass.
His vision does not clear, but he forces himself to take a few steps in any direction anyway. Wondering if seeing all these trees are because of his concussion, Peter freezes when he hears tiny footsteps approaching the opening his still currently residing in. Itâs accompanied by childrenâs crying, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound. Perhaps itâs a trap, but Peter has never done well ignoring a child ever since meeting his baby sister.
âHello?â he calls out tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut firmly to clear it, but it doesnât help.
âHiâ, an adorable voice answers back to him, a head peeks out from behind a bunch, as if the child is equally as curious about Peter as Peter is about her. He can only notice she does this because blurring colors that inch closer little by little. The girl sniffles, âI hurt my foot.â
Peter is out of his depth here. Heâs only ever impressed children by swinging them around in the sky, but his body will not allow that right now. Instead he tries to focus on what he would do if Morgan was the one that was hurt. Adopting a tone only Morgan has ever heard from him, Peter crouches down on his knees. His ribs creak in dismay, but he ignores it firmly. Someone needs him right now.
âOh thatâs not good. Does it hurt a lot?â Peter himself cannot assess the damage.
âNo I guess notâ, the girls splutters, pulling up her foot to show Peter.
âOkay, thatâs great. Do you live for away from here? I bet that if I take you back home, your parents will give you a lollipop because you were so brave.â
âOhâ, the child cries out in wonder, pain in her foot forgotten completely at the mentions of dessert. Peter canât help but smirk a little, bribery works on Morgan every time too. âIâll show you, but you have to carry me okay?â
Peter canât think of a worse activity for his injured body to sustain right now, but heâs not about to let a kid down.
âItâs a deal, lead the way and hop on up.â His tone is cheerful, even though he has to bite back pained groans by biting his lip.
The girl shows no hesitation and follows his lead immediately, giggling in delight.
âSo, do you want to play a game on the way over?â
They end up playing I spy with my little eye, which Peter loses every time, and not only because he canât see straight at the moment. The girl, being clearly very young, is a spitfire, which is good because it means Peter doesnât have to talk during the trip.
It gets increasingly harder to carry her the longer he has to endure the pain, but he knows that salvation is near when the girl, points to a brown blob in the distance. âThatâs it, there it is. Put me down, I want to get my lollie now.â
Peter obligates, and watches as she runs without any regard for her painful foot, smiling to himself. He hears the door of the house open, and a male cadence calling out and sounding so joyful he must not have noticed Peter yet. He can only imagine the weird sight that must be, to see a stranger bringing home your daughter, but Peter canât move away yet. His body has stopped listening to his commands.
âDaddy, daddy, can I have a lollipop, Peter said I could if I was brave, and I was! He said so himself.â
Peter assumes she points to him, and his smiles weakly, although heâs having trouble even finding the strength to do that. Once he walks a little further, he should rest for a bit, close his eyes for the briefest amount of time. Before it getâs to that point though, Peter hears a glass mug being dropped on the ground. The sounds is piercing in contrast between the quiet forest and the intrusion, but thatâs not the weirdest thing.
âPeter?â That same cadence exclaims, the voice breaking of the syllable. Itâs strange, because for the briefest moment Peterâs mind flashing the name Tony at him, but the man is long gone.
Peter just about handles frowning at the direction, a weird knowingness to the exclamation, like the man somehow knows who Peter is.
âHow do you-?â The sentence is cut short when a wave of nausea slams into Peter again, and he canât keep himself upright this time. His knees buckle, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ground nearly welcomes him with open arm. Before he can collide with it again however, in such speed Peter canât phantom the man being fast enough, he instead lands between the mans arms. All the strength has left his body, and Peter can do nothing but let his head roll onto the manâs shoulder.
âPepperâ, he screams, so shut up it comes across as hoars, pulling Peter even closer to him than thought possible. âYouâre okay kid, youâre okay. I promise youâll be okay.â
---
Peter comes too slowly, groggily, as if moving through solaces. The logical part of his brain, of which there is much, screams at him to panic. He doesnât know where he is, he can only vaguely remember the events leading up to his current situation, and he canât ensure his safety or anyone elseâs furthermore, but the smaller part of his brain soothes him.
Tells him everything is fine and heâs safe. Itâs rare that Peter feels that way. Even at home with May in their appartement, thereâs a constant need to be alert. Peter snaps awake from every little sound, his body turning rigid from the forceful transition between sleeping and waking up, even if the cause was only a door creaking.
It doesnât make any sense for Peter to be this tranquillized right now, or any other time for that matter. He groans, pained, fluttering his eyes open to find himself in a dark room with the windows drawn. His eyesight is still blurry, his head is still pounding beneath his skin, and because thereâs no acute danger to be detected- his spider senses tell him so, though he hasnât learned to trust them completely yet- he allows his eyelids to droop closed again.
A warm, calloused hand strikes through his hair softly, while a thumb strikes out the frowning lines that pain flashes put on Peterâs forehead. Peter realizes with a startle that his not alone, and that must mean his Peter tingle has failed him, but canât force himself to push the hand away. Itâs nice to experience a loving touch after so many rough handlings, and the memories of lab days with Tony, car rides with Happy, building Lego with Ned and cuddling with MJ render him immobile. He longs so fiercely to feel safe, to be safe, that he leans into the touch like a cat being petted.
âItâs okay Pete, just go back to sleep.â A rough voice rumbles from besides Peter. All the rest he previously had, flies out of the window, as his entire body fill up with adrenaline. That voice belongs to a man thatâs long gone, a man that sacrificed himself to save Peter and paid the ultimate price for it. That voice can only originate from a ghost.
Peter practically jumps up, opening his eyes and looking in the direction where the voice came from, but he miscalculated how fast his concussion would go away. He stumbles, faceplanting into the body that held Tonyâs voice, and was only held up by the grace of the other man. Again, there were bouts of pain, but not only from his physical ailments.
The fire that Peter imagines to be inside of him, the one that destroys everyone else around him but leaves him, unfortunately intact, burns up from the remnants of his heart. Heâs tried very hard to move on from Tonyâs death in the past few months, and he had almost convinced himself that he was over it. That would be a flat out lie though, and Peter Parker doesnât lie. The agony of the situation had just been shoved to the back of his mind, while Peter took on so much so he wouldnât have to touch upon it, to prod in it. It peeked out every once in a while, when Happy would tell May about his life and an anecdote with Tony would be told, or when a poster with Iron man on it drew his attention, but itâs easier to pretend to be okay then to deal with the truth.
âHey Peter, Iâm glad to see you too, but donât get too excited now bud.â Tony laughs, but the tone with which he says it sounds grief stricken, with the barest hint of hope coating the edges. He lowers Peter back down into the bed, and Peter has to bite back a sob at how comfortable the sheet caresses his skin, and how gentle it is on his wounds.
He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isnât any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that Itâs no weird fever dream. Peterâs hand clench up in Tonyâs shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him. He still canât see the expression on Tonyâs face, but he prepares to be rejected, and canât find it in himself to care. Even if Tony pushes him away after barely a brief second, at least Peter still did something he had set out to do for months now.
That doesnât happen. Instead, Tony grabs him even tighter, a gentle hand cupping the back of Peterâs head as he curves his body around him.
âTonyâ, Peter whispers, the first tears starting to track a path on his cheeks. âTony.â Sobs are building up in the back of his throat, unable to be contained for much longer, and as they escape, Tony doesnât scold him, or tells Peter to stop, but he starts to rock the both of them.
Peter canât be sure, but he thinks he feels splatters of Tonyâs tears on his shoulders as well.
âMorganâ, Peter says nonsensical after a while, sobs are still heaving his body, but heâs had experience pulling himself together in need before, and right now he needs to know Morgan is safe.
âIs she okay?â he asks Tony, with a clumsy tongue. The crying has made his weak and aching body even more exhausted, the rocks reminding him of babies being cradled and normally he wouldnât want to be seen as a baby, but he doesnât care right now. He just want to enjoy being around Tony again.
âMorgan?â Tony laughs, sniffling quietly like heâs refusing to let Peter knows his been crying too. âShe fine, sheâs probably playing in the barn again even though Pepper tells her sheâs not allowed. Sheâs a bit of a menace, just like you Pete.â
At that, Peter sobs turn into heaves, his entire body shaking with the force of them. All the grief of the past few months, the guilt that Peter has carried knowing itâs all his fault, is all coming to a head now. Itâs his fault that Tonyâs dead, itâs his fault Morgan has to grow up without a father, and itâs his fault the world doesnât have Iron man to protect them anymore. Heâs tried to so hard to make it right, but how can he? How can he ever be the person Tony was, when heâs just Peter Parker.
âKiddo, please calm down, youâre gonna make yourself sickâ, Tony soothes despairingly. He lowers peter again but stays close, his hand going back to striking Peterâs hair. âYouâre okay, I promise you, I wonât let anything else happen to you.â Tony is getting chocked up again, but this time he doesnât try to hide it. âNot again.â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorryâ, Peter whispers, his voice wrecked by the amount of crying he has done. He wants to talk to Tony, explain what happened, spend time with him and beg for his forgiveness, but Tony shushes him, and heâs asleep before he can argue.
----
The next time Peter struggles to consciousness, he senses their presence; Morgan, Pepper and Tony, and he knows without a sliver of doubt that its them. He shakes with the knowledge. The room heâs in, his room as Pepper had told him upon visiting for the first time, is scattered with spiderman toys, and even a few posters on to wall to complete the image. The sight is ridiculous, but Peter laughs at it all the same. He tries to keep the smile on his face, but melancholy isnât easily beat.
At the very least his concussion seems to have gone away since waking up a first time, and all thatâs left to remind him he took a fall is a vague pounding in his head, and the nausea. Itâs not as bad as before, and Peter takes the reprieve with greedy hands.
The hustling and bustling of the family, alive and well, downstairs is crustal clear to Peterâs advanced hearing. Itâs strange, being back in the lake house without it seeming so bleak. After they defeated Thanos, and Mister Stark died, Peterâs mind helpfully supplies, he had only been here twice. Pepper tried her best to come back, to give Morgan a home away from the home they owned in the city, but too much had reminded of the husband she was forced to burry, so they moved fairly quickly.
So it unusually to see it the way it was supposed to be. Lived in, with Morganâs giggling and Pepperâs pretend scolding voice, with mister Stark chuckling quietly to himself, a perfect little family. Itâs supposed to emit a warm, honey affection bleeding through every crack, and itâs a shame it isnât anymore. Â
âMorguna, go play with your toys for a second, I need to talk to your mom about something very important.â Spying on Tony leaves a bad taste in Peterâs mouth, but he canât help it. Heâs been so devoid of any scraps connecting him to Mister Stark, that heâs willing to forgo manners.
âIs it a surprise?â Morgan asks, mirth in her voice. Sheâs so much younger than Peter ever remembers her being, because heâd never got to witness her at that age. His heart clenches, the hurt still so fresh.
âYou know what little miss, as a matter of fact it is, so you better scoot, or we might not be able to get in time.â
Morgan squeals in delight, and Peter hears her little footsteps sprinting outside. Peter smiles, he knew Tony would be a good dad someday. The downstairs is quiet for longer than normal, and Peter suddenly turns worried that Pepper and Tony caught him.
Then, Pepper speaks up again. âYou canât keep spoiling her you know. Sheâll turn into a monester by the time she hits fourteen.â
âSheâs fine,â Tony placates. Peter visualizes Tony pressing a kiss to the top of Pepperâs head, the only weakness the woman has, which he takes great advantages of. The issue seems to be settled, the playful disagreement put to rest.
Peter ponders over what to do next. Heâs so extremely awkward, and despite hoping for an opportunity like this one, he has no idea what to say to Tony.
âOh Tony, is it really him?â Peter freezes, so caught of guard by the heartache in Pepperâs words. She sounds both optimistic and demoralized, as though she has had her hopes up for so long she canât risk it again.
âIt is Pep. I know it is, I saw it in his eyes.â
âBut how?â Pepper questions extensively. âHe was blipped, just like so many people. None of the others have come back.â
âI donât have all the answers Pepper, God knows I wish I had. All I know is that my kids back, do I need to question why?â
Hearing, outright hearing mister Stark say Peter is his kid, has Peter tearing up, something sharp sticking at his ribs and feeble heart. It hurts just as much as he longs to overhear it again.
âHe might be able to bring the others back. Tony, I get why you donât want to hear this, but he could be the key to helping millions.â
âHe has to be nothing but healthy alright? Maybe he can help, maybe he canât, but all Iâm sure of is that Iâm never,â Tonyâs voice sinks lower and even more venomous then before,â putting him in the line of fire again.â
Iâm okay, Peter thinks, needing to scream it to Mister Starkâs face that he didnât do anything. It wasnât up to anyone, just like it wasnât up to anyone to save Tony either.
âIâm sorryâ, Tony utters, sounding defeated and, honestly, old. âIâm sorry, but I just got him back, and I canât, I canât lose him again.â
âIt seems like the first step in ensuring it never does it to go up and talk to him. Go to him Tony, say what you couldnât say three years ago. Andâ, Pepper swallows thickly. âTell him we all love him.â
Peterâs grateful he wonât be forced to initiate the first move by walking downstairs.
âUnderroos, Iâm coming up so you better not be sleeping anymore.â The flawless transition between vulnerable and slipping into his role a cool role model is staggering, but it doesnât surprise Peter in the slightest anymore. Heâs spend too much time with Tony for that to be the case.
He doesnât know what to do with his body, how heâs supposed to respond to seeing Tony in person again? Part of him wants to lung at his mentor, while the other part hisses at him to act like a normal human being. Peter ends up sitting down on the bed, standing in front of  the door, hiding behind the closet and finally back to bed in the span of however long it takes Tony to reach the room.
By that point, Peter is too distracted by the glimmer of his past to overthink the encounter. He remembers the lego set as if it just happened. It was the first bout of Peterâs interests that Tony listened to wholeheartedly. After the battle with Thanos, it had slipped Peterâs mind completely. He had no idea Mister Stark had this thing in his home.
âI asked May if I could take it with me, when I moved out hereâ, Tony says with melancholy, taking a seat by Peter on the bed, but leaving a considerable distance. Heâs not looking at the lego set at all, instead dividing his full attention on Peter. Swiftly his eyes roam Peters face and posture, sucking in all the little details Tony hadnât been able to discern about him after a while.
âThereâs so many of that stuff in her apartment, but this one was the most fun to put together, because itâs the death star you know? It has all this detail and it took forever to make but thatâs all good, cause thereâs so much detail and-â
âPeteâ, Tony sounds chocked up, like the façade he was forcing himself to wear is already slipping. Peter hasnât even said anything yet. âGod kid, where the hell di you come from? Iâve tried everything but I-â, he takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter has only witnessed mister Stark crying once, so itâs a shock that it occurs again. âI didnât know how.â
âMister Stark-â, Peter stops, cutting his own sentence off. Is he even supposed to say anything? Is he supposed to blab the secrets of the future. His Spidey scenes are distinctively ordering him not too, but Peter itches to all the same. âI donât think Iâm supposed to say,â he settles on, âwith the butterfly effect and all.â
âThe butterfly effect? Kid what in the world are you talking about?â
âYou know, like in the movie, where he can travel back in the past but it always alters things for the worst?â
âYeah, Iâve seen the movieâ, Tony asserts, almost deadpans. âWhat does that have to do with anything?â
âJust- just please trust me Mister Starkâ, Peter pleads, hands beginning to tremble with the need to reach out for reassurance. The memories of the one complete hug Tony had ever given him sparking a longing in him. Â âDo you trust me?â
âOf courseâ, Mister Stark firmly agrees.
âThen donât ask me how,â even to his own ears the desperation is tangible, âplease.â
Tony clasps his hand on Peters shoulder, a ground weight to which Peters never endings zing in relief. Before he can stop himself, heâs crumpled in, his head on Tonyâs shoulder while his hands twist in the back of mister Starkâs shirt. The reciprocation is immediate.
âIâve missed youâ, He chokes out, feeling rather annoyed at himself that all he seems to be doing is crying. His time here is limited, he can sense it, the hunch that time is of the essence and he doesnât posses much of it, and he refuses to waste it on more tears.
âMe too, Pete, more than you know.â
âI think I have a pretty good clueâ, Peter laughs bitterly, itâs not the same really. Heâs only been missing mister Stark for a few months, the man in front of him has been missing him for three and will need to miss him for two more years. The buzzing in the back of his head grows louder. Another stroke of Parker luck, he spend most of the time he had with mister Stark unconscious.
Whatever, he canât change it now, but he has a few more things to say before he needs to leave.
âTonyâ, he begins, using Mister Starks first name to ensure he understands how important this is. He pulls away, just enough to be able to look Tony directly in the eyes, but what he sees there is nothing short of panic. His hand tighten, softly guiding him back but Peter resists.
âPlease donât tell me you have to go again.â It seems that despite Peter intent, Tony savvies more than heâd like. Peter smiles bitter.
âItâs not your fault.â
âWhat?â
âWhat happened on Titan, when he blipped all of us, me, thatâs not on you mister Stark.â Peter repeats patiently, watching as Tonyâs face hardens.
âPeter-â
âItâs not. You couldnât have protected me any more then you did. Iâm sorry it turns out the way it did, but I need you to know itâs not on you.â
âI should have done more.â Tony insist, raising his voice a few octaves. Downstairs, Morgan asks Pepper why her dad is so close to yelling. âI shouldâve, you were my kid Peter, are my kid, and I failed.â
âYou didnât failâ, Peter yells back just as loudly, he stands up from the bed, subconsciously trying to appear taller so he has more say in the situation. âBecause if you already failed then what did I do? Iâm still here and you-â, he cuts himself off once again, almost spilling all the secrets.
Tony approach him like heâs an animal that needs to be handled with care. âI donât know what youâre on about, but Iâm a grown man Pete, I can take care of myself.â
âBut I-â
âAh, ah, ah, not talking back, Iâm the adult here. Zip it kid. How about this, weâre both not to blame alright?â
Peter isnât convinced Tony believes that, but itâs still a weight of his shoulders to have said it to Mister Stark, maybe, in the future, when he pins the blame on himself once more, heâll think about this moment. He nods.
âI have to go now Mister Starkâ, The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes that itâs the truth. Whatever is going to happen next wonât wait much longer.
Peter walks over to the window and opens it, ready to swing out after saying goodbye. He canât go and see Pepper and Morgan, itâll upset them as much as itâll upset him. Heâll see them back in his time.
âWait,â Tony screams, as I Peter was going to leave without a goodbye. The embrace he pulls Peter in is heavier this time, loaded with the upcoming goodbyeâs. Itâs still nice though, and Peter enjoys every second of it. Tony presses a kiss to Peterâs temple then holds it there when he asks; âHow long do I have to wait before I see you again.â
Peter swallows painfully and considers lying to make Tony feel better but, âtwo yearsâ, he eventually confesses, figuring that he can at least give that little piece of information.
Mister Stark simply hums, but Peter notices his tears nonetheless. With one last, solid squeeze, Peter wiggles out of the embrace and tries to stall his own tears. It would hurts less if he could go back to find Mister Stark there, if only he had a way to warm Tony.
Heâs pretty sure he canât go into too much detail but; âMister Stark, when it happens, please hold on. I canât lose you either.â
âOkay Pete,â Tony assures, his hands shaking with the urge to drag his kid back, safe in his arms. âAfter this is all over, weâre going to hold a movie night okay? With pizza.â
âAnd Star Wars?â Peter asks hopefully. Mister Stark laughs, his eyes wet. The smile is all Peter demands before he jumps out the window, not waiting for an answer. He prays that heâs done enough without messing anything up. He hopes.
---
When Peter makes it back to his own time, his phone pings with a message.
It reads; âHey kid, still up for a movie night?â send by Tony Stark.
#peter parker#tony stark#pepper stark#morgan stark#spiderman#peter parker imagine#tony stark imagine#spiderman imagine#post avengers endgame#happy ending#nobody dies#irondad#spider son#hurt/comfort#hurt peter parker#protective tony stark#marvel imagine#marvel#the avengers
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Feel Like Iâm Falling / Will Graham Imagine
Request: Yo can I please request a will graham x reader that follows the âgrump character falls for the sunshine characterâ trope? However you wanna do that is cool :)Â
Iâm sorry this is so terrible @soggy-enchiladaâ but I LOVE HIM
Comments are always appreciated! <3
Will Graham was definitely an odd man.
You had never really spoken to him at work - too afraid to, in fact. Anytime you had walked past the office he was currently discussing new murders in, or rushed past his lecture theatre, he was usually either holding something with inordinate amounts of caffeine in it, or instead using his hand to rub the frown lines above his eyes.
When you had asked Alana about Will, she completely closed off, just warning you to stay away from the man, that he was trouble. Yet you couldnât help yourself, and you also couldnât believe that someone who owned that many dogs could be anything other than a good man, even if you werenât quite brave enough to test that theory.
Will had spotted you of course. He knew who you were - your name, your age, your job, where you lived. Professional interest, he had told Jack, in a fellow colleague. In reality, though, the only time Will Graham felt calm was when he looked at you. It scared him, being able to look into someoneâs eyes so easily, which is why he did it so rarely.
You had never really spoken to him at home, either. Living near Will Graham was a fun challenge in itself, especially when you were both each otherâs only neighbours for miles around. When you did bump into the strange man, very rarely, it usually only ended with you cheerily wishing him a good day and him mumbling a goodbye in reply, eyes down and darting over his feet as he blushed to himself.
You had never caught the small stare he always threw back at you once you had wandered off home.Â
You never thought that tonight, of all nights, you would finally become intimately acquainted with him. Humming to yourself, you tap your hands on the steering wheel as the warm orange glow of the radio brightens the otherwise navy darkness of the front seats. You had always loved the drive home from the FBI Academy, the dusk and scattered starlight always was such a beautiful contrast from the dreary atmosphere and pressure of your office.
For Will, as he walked along the dusty road, still not fully aware of his actions, the night had fallen with such a bitterness, such a void of colour that had rutted the once green fields and had left everything cobbled and broken under the moonlight - everything, except the falling of his steps. Those stayed strong, despite the cold stealing every bit of his warmth, his breath no longer visible under the stray stretlighting, as he felt the icy road beneath his bare feet.Â
When your headlights flashed bravely over the man, swallowing in the figure standing in the middle of the road in nothing but a sweat soaked t shirt and tight fitting boxers, getting your brakes to stop on time was a near failed challenge.Â
âMr Graham?!â
Leaving the engine running, you clambered out of your car and towards Will, who had finally started to waken from his nightmare by the bump of your front bumper against his bristling leg. It took him one, two, three moments as he blinked rapidly, arms coming up to huddle the tops of his freezing arms, before he spotted your stunned expression standing on the road as well.
âJ-Jesus! Are you okay? What are you doing out here - you must be freezing!â
His chin trembled a bit before he managed to get his mouth open enough to reply. His head shook a little as well, his brain still not fully awake, and yet fully shocked by the look of genuine concern on your horrified face as you managed to take a step forward.
âI... I canât remember. I must have been having a strange dream. It - it felt like I was falling, like I wasnât really in control of me.â
âWell, letâs get you nice and warm first and then we can figure this out together. Come on, you can come stay at mine for a bit, itâs not far from here.â
He jumped a little, as you grabbed onto his wrist, but finally relaxed into your touch as you led him, shivering, over to your passenger side.
~
Surprisingly, Will had allowed you to place the blanket around his shoulders without much displeasure. He was feeling slightly less awful now, more put together, definitely steady as he sat on the edge of your settee and waited for you to come back. He played with the stray edges of the woven material, obviously well loved, full of frayed strands and balled wool that smelt so obviously like you it overpowered him. Pulling it tighter around his chest, he sighed as he gripped onto it like a lifeline, as if it were more substantial than an old piece of loved yarn, and instead the only thing keeping him from tumbling head first into the abyss again.
âI hope this is okay - I know you usually like coffee, but my mother always told me hot chocolate is always the best remedies for cold nights and lonely hearts! I donât mean to imply that youâre - I-â
You glanced at him for a moment, a blush beginning to colour the edges of your cheeks as you giggled lightly and offered him the mug. He found himself offering a genuine smile back, his lip twitching at the edge as he took it out of your hand, thumb clumsily brushing over yours as the small curls of steam rose.
âThatâs okay, none taken.â
âWas that humour, Mr Graham?â
âA futile attempt, and please, call me Will. You have seen me in my underwear, after all.â
âTwo attempts at humour, I must be dreaming!â
He looks away, grinning to himself and failing to suppress a small laugh as you place your own cup next to the fresh bouquet of lilies that proudly lies as the centrepiece of your living room table. He takes a sip, trying to hide his shyness in the hot swirling milk, but his eyes still watch your every movement as you squat down by the fireplace, hoking the logs around a bit to try and get the blaze burning a bit brighter. You could feel his eyes on you, silently taking in every little flick of your fingers, every time you bit your lip in concentration or every time your eyes sparkled with joy. He was analysing you, trying to figure you out, trying to understand how you made him feel like this by doing so little.
âAre you warm enough? I have some extra blankets, and a couple of coats, and some duvets up in the attic, and some -â
Will relaxed against the sofa cushions, his smile unaffected as he looked over at you.Â
âI really should go, Iâve caused you enough trouble tonight without having to take care of me on top of that.â
âI honestly donât mind... itâs actually quite nice to have some company. Are you sure youâre feeling alright now? I wasnât sure if you were awake or asleep when I found you.â
âIâm not even sure if Iâm awake now.â
A smile crept up your face, and the air grew thick with a tenderness that couldnât help but make Will breathe slower, deeper, happier. He wasnât used to this, feeling so calm, so normal, so wanted.
Will Graham never thought he would find himself falling so easily.
#hannibal#hannibal imagine#Will Graham#Will Graham imagine#Will Graham fluff#Will Graham x reader#will hannibal#will hannibal imagine#Hugh Dancy#Hugh Dancy imagine#hannibal nbc
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(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader
If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.
Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?
My parents told me Iâd regret moving to London from the state before I left because Iâd miss them and the US too much.
They were half right.
Iâm sitting on a box messily labeled âkitchenâ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldnât have moved out from my parentâs house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?
Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Donât ask me how that happened, I donât even know. Iâve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I shouldâve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake Iâm never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I donât feel like unpacking. Maybe itâs the fact that Iâve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.
Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. Itâs a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, itâs just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, Iâve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, thatâs funny. Remember to tweet that later.
The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didnât glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.
I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. Iâd finish college, weâd move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. Weâd live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. Itâs part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.
Thatâs where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Havenât gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I canât decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? Iâm stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.
Opening the door, Iâm greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.
âHi dear, Iâm your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,â She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. âJust teasing! Itâs great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,â Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?
I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. âNice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,â
The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. âYouâre American!â
âThat I am,â I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.
The shock never leaves her aged face, âOh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. Youâll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what youâre used to, but I promise youâll fit right in,â She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.
âWhere are you from?â I ask. She obviously isnât American.
She smiles, âJust a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,â The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.
âSounds lovely,â I speak truthfully.
âWelp,â The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling itâs time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. Iâll need to remember that sheâs the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term âhandsome fellaâ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.
âOh!â I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. âBy the way, whoâs my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?â I ask.
âGreg,â She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.
Greg. Ugly name.
I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldnât even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didnât know any better, Iâd think heâs facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I donât know any better. Iâm just wishing for the very best.
Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. Itâs only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but Iâm using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.
Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands youâd get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.
âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me,â I mumbled underneath my breath.
Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what heâs saying? I donât want to be that type of neighbor. Iâll continue minding my business because I donât want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I donât want to know.
The screaming never stopped.
In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?
Itâs midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isnât asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, Iâd be fed up. Well, Iâm still fed up. Iâm also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so itâs not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighborâs yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.
At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didnât have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now Iâm face to face with Greg.
Boy was he handsome.
I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasnât screaming, I wouldâve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, thatâs unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal Iâd ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.
âHi, uh Greg-â I start. Iâm just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. Itâs a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasnât gross, just very shocking.
âGeorge,â He spat. Thatâs fucking embarrassing. Iâm meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. Iâm not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. Iâve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.
I cringe, âOh, um, sorry.â
He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. âYeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,â George checks his watch. â2 in the morning. If you are, Iâm not interested, sorry âbout that,â His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.
âOh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I donât know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly donât,â I chuckle. George, however, doesnât chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesnât sound too awful right now. I think Iâll add that to my itinerary. Iâll do it in my bed so Iâm at least comfortable while Iâm drowning in my own self-pity.
He grimaces, âYeah. Sure.â
Heâs blunt. Got it.
The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that Iâm not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, youâd think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I havenât dealt with before.
I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didnât live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?
I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I donât think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasnât that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldnât have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didnât even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
Welp. Welcome to London!
#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound#gnf x reader#dream smp#fanfiction#enemies to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#mcyt#mcyt fanfic#mcyt x reader#mcyt imagine#minecraft#smp#minecraft fanfiction
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Shallow love
Word count: 2,128
Pairing: Nacht x reader
Warnings: SPOILER ALERT, swearing, teeny bit of gore, insecurities, I probaby butchered his character >.< IÂŽm so sorry, baby
A/N: NACHT APPEARS IN TODAYÂŽS EPISODE SO OMG I HAD TO POST THIS!!!!
okay so
Nacht is my second favorite Black Clover character and yes, I am currently: freaking out. also he has DabiÂŽs VA so: perfection.Â
I will definitely post more about him in the future! I just wanted to get this out today since it just fit so well <333 IÂŽll be back to regular posting in April
You didnÂŽt think that you would ever be able to feel peace again and go back to your normal life after the attack of the Diamond kingdom.
And yet here you were, in the calm after the storm.
It was weird. Everything was in chaos, the villages and overall buildings were even more destroyed than when the eye of the midnight sun attacked.
Everything was as per usual at the Black BullÂŽs base, nothing out of the ordinary except for Yami forcing Nacht to stay now.
YouÂŽve known him for a long time now, being the first member of the squad, and you never could read him. He always intrigued you.
And yet he also always made you distance yourself from him.
Nacht was the type of guy who was too blunt for his own good. You appreciated honesty, but he just always made it hurt.
You knew full well that you werenÂŽt an innocent little lamb, but who was?
What irked you most about him was how badly he thought and spoke about his own squad, to this day you asked yourself why he even joined in the first place, he couldÂŽve just as easily denied YamiÂŽs order.
Sure, Yami could be persistent, but that wouldnÂŽt stop someone like Nacht.
There had to be more to the two of them but over the years you learned that you just didnÂŽt want to know.
Every time you approached Nacht about it he just shut you off and reminded you of all your flaws again.
Like he always did. With everyone.
Except for Asta, like everyone, he took a liking to the little guy.
Though, you had to admit Nacht seemed more open and approachable after the war. And yet you didnÂŽt.
Instead you watched him at first reluctantly, over time without any hesitation, becoming rather friendly, talking to the rest of the squad.
In all those years you have known him you always asked yourself whether you really did. You highly doubted it.
You just couldnÂŽt figure him out. Did he just wear a mask? Were all of his infuriating smiles for show? Was it all a game to him? What were his goals?
And whyâŠ
No. You didnÂŽt want to think about that.
What was the point anyway? Anyone got a crush at some point, the only difference was that crushes usually didnÂŽt last this long.
Especially if said person didnÂŽt pay you any mind unless they were insulting you.
Nacht mostly stayed to himself, making it known he didnÂŽt want anything to do with the rest of the squad.
Though like anyone else who stayed with them for a long amount of time, he warmed up to everyone. Still, he had his moments and didnÂŽt exactly change his opinion. Because in his world people couldnÂŽt change, they just didnÂŽt.
And that made you sad.
Because deep down you just wanted him to acknowledge you, to tell you that you werenÂŽt as bad as he thought, that you were a good person.
But at one point being around him just hurt. You cared too much, thought too much about him, it kept you awake at night.
If only you went out of your room into the kitchen where he would stay because of the same problem.
Especially since that dayâŠ
You were surrounded. Everywhere you looked you saw black, greedy eyes. The devils were everywhere and all hope seemed lost. You couldnÂŽt rely on Asta only anymore, he already went through enough. He shouldnÂŽt fight your battles for you just because he had strong powers, he was just a little boy.
And yet there he was, fighting ferociously, once again defeating the devil that came to slay everyone that day all those centuries ago.
It was hard to keep at least somewhat of an overview, everything seemed in shambles and the screams and cries of everyone were deafening.
You really shouldnÂŽt be focusing on Nacht right now, now was not the time. Not that there ever was an appropriate time for that anyway.
But of course you just couldnÂŽt help yourself, your eyes wandered to him frequently even as you told them to stop.
Though in this instance it might have not been that bad. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he was about to do, everything around you faded away, you felt numb and your body moved on its own to prevent him from going through with his plan.
âPlease die with meâ were the last things that left his lips that shut your brain off and made you move automatically. They werenÂŽt uttered to you, Nacht didnÂŽt even look in your direction, it was none of your business.
Even still you couldnÂŽt just stand by idly and watch him die, watch one of the only chances you had at winning die, watch the man you hated to love die.
The little devil on his shoulder looked scared as your gaze met him and honestly, you could understand it all too well.
You were scared too but now wasnÂŽt a time for fear, you needed to stop him at all costs.
âThatÂŽs the stupidest thing you ever said!â you screamed out as you were still running towards him.
Finally his head turned to you, he still had that infuriating smile on his lips, though it was so sad this time.
âItÂŽs the only wayâŠâ he replied.
âYou donÂŽt know that! You canÂŽt know that! You canÂŽt just throw you life away like that, it wonÂŽt change anything! In fact it will⊠we will lose. We will lose so much more than just the fight, donÂŽt you understand that? YouÂŽre not more or less important than the rest of us and youÂŽre our vice captain, so itÂŽs my duty to stop you from sacrificing yourself!â you said, grabbing his shoulders and frantically panting, you looked at him aghast, shocked, eyes wide and searching for something...anything in his eyes that wasnÂŽt dull.
âThen weÂŽre all going to die, but itÂŽs so typical of you to be so selfishâ he told you, his tone as entitled as always.
âYouÂŽre selfish too, you know that?â you whispered, averting your eyes.
âYou canÂŽt just run away from your responsibilities. It isnÂŽt rightâ you stood your ground, balling your fists in anger and frustration.
âItÂŽs the only way, why do you even try to stop me?â he sighed, looking at you. He was feeling quite frustrated now too, what were you trying to achieve? If he didnÂŽt make this sacrifice so many more people would die, didnÂŽt you care about them? WasnÂŽt it your job to protect everyone? So why were you trying to desperately to save him out of all people?
âBecause I care. A lot. We all do. And yes itÂŽs selfish, youÂŽre right about that. WeÂŽre all selfish losers and assholes but you know what? We do it best and weÂŽre goddamn proud not to be as picture perfect as all the others. ThatÂŽs what defines us. And you donÂŽt have to agree with that, but IÂŽm fucking stubborn so donÂŽt think for even a second that IÂŽll let you go through with your stupid plan!â you looked at him with such emotion, such passion, it made his heart ache with a foreign familiarity.
Nacht never paid you any more mind than he did the others, just thinking all of you were useless. That was why he was so surprised that someone would voluntarily want to save him.
He treated you like shit, sure it was more out of a defense mechanism cause he couldnÂŽt bear leaving people behind, having people worry about him, he already had enough guilt to carry.
But hearing your words was like a revelation to him.
Maybe he still had a role to play in life, maybe his story wasnÂŽt over yet and just maybe could he live his life without having to fulfill anything, but solely for himself and the ones he cared about.
Maybe it was finally time to start caring more than he was ready to admit, to take a step into the unknown and discover it withâŠ
You.
It had always been you, he realized as he saw your desperate face, your hands on his shoulders, all dirty from fighting and yet feeling warmer than any fire ever could.
âYes, maybe living might not be that badâ he tilted his head, smiling at you.
You felt an intense amount of relief wash over you as you gave him an exhausted smile back.
That was the first time you ever smiled at him, Nacht would never forget that moment, the moment in which you broke down his walls without even knowing it.
He would have to thank you later for that, when he fully comprehended what that meant.
Asta and you were training together again outside while the others were inside going on about their daily ruckus. Some were on missions already but some, like Asta, who were wounded and exhausted still needed to rest properly.
Though it was no use. Asta would never rest like he should unless he was knocked out.
And you tried that the first week, you each took turns but eventually you just couldnÂŽt keep up anymore and let him train like he wanted.
Nacht also kept training with him, though he himself was new to everything going on and needed time to properly accommodate to things.
You stretched a bit, sitting down to just enjoy the sun for a moment.
âI canÂŽt wait to go on missions again! IÂŽm as good as new, IÂŽm ready, I promise!â Asta beamed and showed off a bit but you only sighed.
âItÂŽs not my call, kidâ you apologized.
Asta pouted and kept training.
âYou got a missionâ Yami announced as he joined you outside and Asta practically jumped up and down with excitement and energy.
âJust the usual, rebuilding a town and fighting some magic beasts that escapedâ he explained and Nacht slowly appeared behind him.
AstaÂŽs eyes were beaming right now, he was excited to learn even more about the devilÂŽs powers although he got quite the hang of it and even made a new friend.
Nacht smiled and waved at you, you just looked away as always and stood up to go back inside.
Nothing had changed anyway.
Until Yami stopped you in your tracks.
âIf you get going now youÂŽre gonna return by nightfallâ he said and you nodded.
Asta sighed in frustration.
âI wanna go on a mission too!â he cried out.
âNot happeningâ all three of you said at the same time, shutting him up for a bit.
Both you and Nacht didnÂŽt say anything as you made your way to the town in question.
Nacht because he didnÂŽt know how to approach you and you because you thought there was no point in it, he wouldnÂŽt think of you any differently.
And so you started your mission, once again fighting alongside each other and even though the task was dull NachtÂŽs presence gave you an energy that was unmatched, you just couldnÂŽt help but smile.
When you were done you went deeper into the town to help the people rebuild it.
âDo you wanna go on a date with me?â he said out of the blue, making you turn around in confusion.
âWhy would I go on a date with a guy who hates my guts?â you asked, making him sigh sadly.
âIÂŽm sorry if I left that impression on you. I really donÂŽt hate you⊠itÂŽs quite the opposite actuallyâ he explained.
âDid you just⊠I swear I never heard you apologize in all those years IÂŽve known youâ you chuckled, not quite processing the second half of his statement.
âI never saw the point in it. All my life I always watched from afar, I always wanted to save people but you know, IÂŽm just operating in the shadows. IÂŽm good at spying and gaining information, saving people. Not so much making friends with them. I never saw it as my role. After all I lived my life for the kingdom and its people and not for myself. Why would I care if anyone liked me? In fact it would be the worst thing that could happen⊠death was always part of the job description and I was always willing to take that risk if it meant you could live longer. But now⊠ever since that day, I just want to live with youâ he confessed, leaving you at a loss for words, so you did the only logical thing to you in this moment: hug him tightly.
âOf course IÂŽd like to go on a date with you, Nacht. And I will keep protecting youâ you smiled.
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"Boyfriends"
I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.
Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.
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The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dareâs many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.
The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries heâd have to do with worn needles and his motherâs thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadnât felt in the recent weeks.
Which wouldnât be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a âBoo!â have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.
âWaker!â A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.
Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruisesâŠâŠâŠâŠ...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.
Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.
His face turns a copious amount of red as heâs carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft âNoâŠâ into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.
The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting âhe knew whoâ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didnât get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.
âYou are such a fucking clutz, I swear.â And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesnât say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. âI should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then youâd actually learn some balance.â The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.
Heâs loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows heâs been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isnât doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. âH-hey, whatâs a-....Whatâs up, Witch Boy?â And he knows the intended playfulness doesnât go through as heâs met with a narrowed glare.
The other isnât amused. âWitch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?â
âShu-shut up, Cyrus!â He defends as this âCyrusâ just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.
âGet out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.â He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. âOr Iâll totally drop you again.â And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenetteâs brilliant and ever playful smile.
For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesnât catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyruâs hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesnât take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection heâs constantly showered in when theyâre together. Itâs strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldnât change it for the world. He doesnât even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.
And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.
âOh, hell no!â Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. âNot this early in the morning!â Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.
âOw! Whyâd you drop me, asshole!?â
Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. âOh please, donât even act like youâre hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ainât dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.â
By âsappy dappyâ Waker knows exactly what heâs referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, itâs called affection and admiration!
âItâs a look that means I like you, asswipe!â Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.
âDo you think Iâm in love with you or something!?â
And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isnât one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.
âOh, no, not me, I could never.â Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.
âPfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!â He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.
He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didnât quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.
"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"
âItâs only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?â
And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.
Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!
âŠâŠâŠâŠ
âŠâŠâŠâŠ.
âI-Iâm sorry! I didnât mean to, I just did-â
âItâs okâŠâŠâ Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. âItâsâŠ.ok.â He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. âWeâre-Iâm going to have to get used to it eventually.â He shrugs. âRight?â
Thereâs a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. Theyâve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term âBoyfriend.â It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrusâ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.
âI know you donât exactly like the ter-â
âItâs not that I donât like it WakerâŠ..â
âI know, Cy, but.â Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrusâ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrusâ eyes. âI shouldnât have said it when youâre not ready. Just because I moved past it doesnât mean you have.â Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, âAnd thatâs ok! Really, itâs ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because thatâs what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didnât mean to phrase it like that uh-I donât really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?â
Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. Itâs a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. âAnd-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god Iâm rambling and no, donât look at me like that. Iâm doing the thing again arenât I-â Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesnât Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didnât help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didnât.
âWaker!â And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. âJust take a deep breath.â And Waker does, following the instruction intently. âAnd let it out, slowly.â And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. âSlowly.â He rubs his thumbs over Wakerâs hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. âThere you go.â And doesnât stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Wakerâs grip relax in his own.
Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partnerâs head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when heâs on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldnât catch a break. And he wouldnât be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.
âYou donât need to tell me-er.â Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. âI donât need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we donât need to have a name if thatâs what you want, thatâs what Iâm trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I wonât treat you any different.â
âI know Waker. IâŠ..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-â
Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless âYou donât want to lose me.â goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.
It wasnât a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship heâd built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. Heâs had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous âboyfriendsâ changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasnât their idea of âfunâ and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasnât feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everythingâŠ...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.
And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.
Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Wakerâs chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.
A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each otherâs presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. Thereâs no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.
Itâs only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.
âIs that why you dropped me?â And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.
âNo itâs because youâre a dunce.â He huffs. âAnd fucking heavy as hell.â
Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. âBut Iâm your dunce.â He boops his nose.
âDamn, straight you are.â And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.
Boyfriend or just âfriend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimesâ, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesnât doubt that for a second.
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Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!
âAhaha, Iâll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!â I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting
CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.
Ao3 version tooÂ
Theyâd probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable.Â
It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.
And wasnât that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasnât quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario.Â
The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The âWhere are weâ and the âHow long were we asleep?â and the âIs it finally safe to rest?â and the âI love you so, so much.âÂ
Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martinâs stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time theyâd felt mundane hunger?Â
âDo you think they even have food here?â Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet.Â
âPerhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.âÂ
âYeah, but Annabelle though,â Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. âWhat if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and itâs just⊠Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. Thereâs one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.âÂ
Jon winces. âIâd really rather not picture that right now, if you donât mind.â
âAh, course,â Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. âShould probably go check though. Donât exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though Iâd happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Donât think Iâve slept that well in⊠Ever.âÂ
âMmh, now that you mention it, Iâm quite peckish as well⊠Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.â Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. âProbably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.âÂ
âYou want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?â Martin asks, prying the duvet away like heâs pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they canât just stay in bed all day. He hadnât been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.
âI think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so Iâd rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.â Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound⊠His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower.Â
When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. Itâs a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood.Â
âYou want to go first then?â Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again.Â
Jon rolls his eyes. âYes, Iâll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.âÂ
Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes.Â
Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in⊠However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin heâd be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesnât want to close the door. He doesnât want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now.Â
â... Jon? You okay?â
Jon realises heâs been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words.Â
Martin shifts, sitting back up again. âJon, talk to me. Whatâs wrong?â
It comes out like a croak. âI- I donât Know.â
Martinâs tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jonâs direction. âYou donât know whatâs wrong?â
âNo, I donât Know,â he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. Heâs gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that heâd watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air.Â
âHey, hey, hey,â Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know heâs there.ïżœïżœ
Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. âAnd- And that should be a good thing. It should. I donât want to Know. But itâs⊠Iâve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels⊠Itâs raw and itâs vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and Iâm vulnerable and that means you are too. If Iâm in another room, I canât Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I canât save you.â
The right wrapped around to hold Jonâs left hip, Martinâs free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels.Â
âJon,â he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. âI canât imagine what thatâs like. Iâm so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didnât even consider how it would feel for you. I canât promise nothing will go wrong, because⊠Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.â He brushes Jonâs fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. âTub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?âÂ
Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively⊠Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of⊠Intimacy.Â
Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. âIâm sorry, if thatâs too much, we can just-â
âNo,â Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. âNo, I⊠I would like that. That sounds nice.â
He knows itâs from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look.Â
âForgive me for being blunt, but you really donât seem up for that. If thatâs not in your⊠Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.âÂ
âIâm just a little shaken, is all,â Jon says, but he knows thereâs a truth to Martinâs words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, theyâd had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martinâs side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isnât what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but thereâs still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn.Â
Itâs not that he was bashful about it. Heâd seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed⊠No, that wouldnât be happening.Â
âI- Can I make one request, though?â Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martinâs.Â
âAnything,â Martin replies, no hesitation to be found.Â
Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. âCan- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-âÂ
âNo, no thatâs okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,â Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it.Â
They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.
Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner.Â
âFind something you like?â Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface.Â
When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jonâs of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?
Martin cleared his throat. âDo you mind, then, if IâŠ?â
âYes, of course, go ahead.âÂ
Martin pulled his shirt over his head.Â
Itâs not that Jon didnât find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didnât change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him.Â
He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, heâs fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. Itâs not that he hadnât trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief.Â
âShall we?â Martin asks, gesturing towards the water.Â
âLetâs,â Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water.Â
Heâs just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. Thereâs not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jonâs just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martinâs hips.Â
If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon canât bring himself to care for relief that itâs no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth heâs finding it hard not to fall asleep again.Â
âThis okay?â Martin asks, because heâs still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries.Â
âFar more than okay,â he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except heâs wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadnât quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake.Â
They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo.Â
âHere, let me,â Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. âIf you want, that is. Do you?âÂ
âDo I what?âÂ
âDo you want me to do your hair? Itâs just- Itâs probably easier, yâknow, than you trying to do it yourself.âÂ
âAnd far more romantic,â Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martinâs freshly cleaned cheek.Â
âThat too. Do you want to turn around?âÂ
Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until heâs facing away from Martin. Heâs surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martinâs arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martinâs chest. Itâs very intimate. Itâs very nice.Â
âThat okay?â Martin asks again, and more than âI love youâ, thatâs a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort.Â
âAbsolutely.âÂ
âGood,â Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff.Â
When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jonâs scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martinâs chest, and itâs only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there.Â
âI really hope that was a positive thing and you havenât just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,â Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martinâs chest.Â
âStill conscious, donât worry. Thatâs just⊠Very nice.âÂ
âOh! Well⊠Good.âÂ
This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jonâs hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martinâs hands. Even when Jon knows heâs long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.
Eventually, both of Martinâs hands come to rest against Jonâs torso. âThis okay?âÂ
âYes. I donât mind any of the touching, as long as itâs⊠Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.âÂ
âGotcha,â Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jonâs shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks.Â
It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars.Â
Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jonâs brain has gone a little fuzzy. Heâs unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if heâs being honest, itâs working. No ulterior motive. This isnât the lead up to anything. It just exists on itâs own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing.Â
After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jonâs elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jonâs neck.
Heâs perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesnât know what he did to deserve⊠This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.
Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martinâs chin. Martinâs knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.
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Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before
The Eighth Letter
----------------
To: Xu Minghao
From: Y/N
Dear Minghao,
I just want to thank you for being my friend despite my awkward confession, even if this current friendship might not last long. Actually, I don't think it will.
I'll be honest here since I didn't tell you this yet.
I spent a few years away from love. My high school years had so many different love stories and none of them exactly had a happy ending. They were all bittersweet endings and even the love story with you is a bit bittersweet.
I guess I misinterpreted your actions. I'm not mad or extremely sad that you rejected me, I feel like that put me in my place. Now that I think about it, maybe we weren't meant to be lovers. So, I don't want to drift away from you just because you rejected my confession. I'm not going to love you like that anymore, I want to keep you as a true friend.
I hope you won't feel awkward around me. I can already feel the awkward air but I wish for it to fade quickly. Let's not stop being friends. I'll stop loving you though. I hope you won't think of me differently now that I've confessed. I feel like you would pretend that it's fine but inside, the awkwardness only grows.
As I'm writing this letter, the fate of us is still being determined. Even I don't know what we are going to become. If the ending for us is unhappy and we decide to stop being friends... Well, I would blame myself for it. I would be losing a friend that I adored.
MinghaoI won't ever talk about my confession again so I'm writing this.
, you're a really attractive guy. I'm sure that anyone would fall for you if they got to know you. You're fashionable, fun, kind, warm-hearted, and also a great therapist, haha. You give me the best advice and always listen to my problems whenever I need to let them out. You always encourage me to speak up.
Remember that one time when I was getting yelled at by the professor over a misunderstanding? I was just standing there like a complete idiot, listening to the professor's words of criticism when you stood up and said, âProfessor, it wasn't Y/N's fault. If you looked closely, you would have seen that the dress already had holes in it from the beginning. It was a part of the design. As a fashion professor, how could you overlook that?â
Your expression was so serious and you completely cornered the professor. I feel kind of bad talking about the professor like this but I just want to praise you. The professor apologized after class but I knew he was unwilling to admit his mistake.
When you stood up for me for the first time, you left such an admirable first impression. I wanted to get to know you immediately! You were so cool speaking straightforwardly like that and not hesitantly speaking your mind and standing up for me. I still admire you.
Minghao, honestly, I don't think we'll be okay.
The words still kind of hurt me. Whenever I see you, I think back on those words you said to me.
Since I was just a friend that confessed, I don't think you would remember your response to my confession, so let me remind you; not in a bad way. Since this is a keepsake letter, I just want to remind myself.
I think you and I were in front of an art museum together. You invited me along that bright, sunny morning, and of course, after realizing my feelings, I couldn't deny your offer. I was excited.
I'm sure you'll never know my side of the story so I'll tell you everything that happened that day and why it leaves a small scar in my chest. I'm not blaming you for it, I'm blaming myself. Minghao, it's all my fault.
Honestly, I was too expectant. Gosh... I was way too ahead of myself that day. Our friendly hangout in my head was a date.
After you invited me and told me that you'd come to pick me up in 30 minutes, I rolled out of my college dormitory bed and rushed everything. I did my hair, makeup, and tried to dress prettily for you.
I did my best in that short amount of time but the only thing you complimented was my outfit. Sure, I was happy, but also disappointed. I was bummed because I didn't even have a chance to breathe, meanwhile, you were looking as fashionable as ever with almost no effort.
The museum was fun. I always had a knack for art so everything was admirable and lovely. What made it better was that I was able to spend that time with you. We shared our thoughts with each other but to me, you looked way too serious. I should have gotten the hint then that you didn't feel the same way about me as I did toward you.
Suddenly, this lump started forming on my chest and I just felt like I should get it off. I didn't want to hold back anymore so after walking around the art museum, the words just slipped out of my mouth.
Then you went silent while staring at me.
âI'm sorry.â
I said it was fine then because I thought I was really fine with the rejection. But just a bit after, I realized that I couldn't ride in the same car as you. I wouldn't be able to. Everything came flooding back into my brain, the memories of us that I thought were memorable. That's why I told you to leave first. I'm sure you knew that we both were uncomfortable.
After you left, I just sort of... reminisced our sweet moments that seemed romantic enough to make us more than friends. I did that while taking a walk.
I especially remembered the days when we went shopping, worked together after courses and talked about our days. Even these things that seem so small held so many memorable things to me, including moments that made my heart pound and race.
Since you rejected me, friend-zoning me, I can only conclude that you don't like me back, thus the conclusion that these moments meant nothing more than acts of kindness.
Minghao, you shouldn't be so kind, or else people would misunderstand you, like me. Why must you be so attractive? You're masculine but at the same time, you can become so soft and cute and caring.
Anyway, at this point, you've probably lost interest in reading this letter (if you ever read it). I hope you'll trudge on though as I keep going forward with the reminiscing. I know that you like reading, Minghao.
So, when we went to the bookstore, there was something memorable that happened to me there.
Yes, it made my heart pound too.
Yes, it made me fall harder for you.
I was really sleepy that day. All the college work piling up only made me more stressed and I was so tired. You didn't know that I was, did you?
I ended up falling asleep at a table while you were choosing books.
When I woke up, I saw your face. It wasn't upside down, you were sitting next to me, with your head lying against the table, facing me. It's still a question to me why you did that when you could have just woken me up or sat somewhere else, but well, you rejected me.
You and I just stared at each other. I was wondering then, what were you thinking?
At that time, I didn't know how you felt about me, so every little thing was hope. Your face was so close to mine and our bodies were against each other slightly. I was able to feel your warm breath.
âAre you wide awake now?â You asked.
Minghao, when you asked that, I honestly got the feeling that you were nervous because you quickly got up and removed the book you have placed under my head while I was sleeping.
You? Nervous? I guess I was wrong.
Even now, I feel a bit hopeful that maybe sometimes, I did make your heart race, but that's all just false hope.
We went clothes shopping around a month ago.
You wanted to get some new hats and I tagged along because we were friends. While picking hats, we were talking about normal stuff that we always talk about, so I was busy with that conversation. I was talking to you while looking at hats and then suddenly, I felt a hat plop down on my head.
When I turned around, I nearly bumped into your chest. Your hand was still on my head, where the hat was placed. I was so nervous and my whole body was burning up, you know that?
After that, you had to attack again with your soft giggles and smile, making me completely melt.
Then, you took off the hat and patted my head and ruffed my hair, then continued the conversation as if you didn't just do that to me. Of course, you probably never knew how I felt.
This is the last one, I promise.
I picked this one carefully.
That day after courses. It was a rainy afternoon and we were together at the library, studying and working together.
It was getting dark but we didn't expect the rain so we didn't take umbrellas with us. We ended up staying at the library for hours, just talking.
That was the important, special part of this memory.
We talked a lot and I was happy. You made a lot of jokes and I learned a lot more about you. You also smiled a lot. I was just really happy to be around you, talking about your life and mine.
I don't know why this one is the most memorable for me. I just always, constantly, remember the scene of us sitting at a table in the library, talking to each other beside a window painted with raindrops.
I don't know if you felt it but to me, it seemed more like we were flirting.
Minghao, now that I've reached the near end of this letter, I think I've decided the future for us.
Let's not stay friends. I don't want to fall for you. I don't want to love you. Being your friend would only make it worse for both of us since you didn't feel the same way.
You asking me to your b-boy competitions, you asking me to look at your art projects, it was all just normal things that friends would do but I overreacted.
It's all my fault and I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry and I know that I can't fix our friendship. I was such a fool.
Minghao, I hope you can find a better friend than me; A friend that doesn't misunderstand you, a friend that can love you without falling for you romantically, a friend that can be better than me.
My love stories always have a bittersweet ending so don't worry, you're not the only guy.
Thank you for being my friend for a year. I really appreciate it. You were a great buddy, fun, kind, serious, and caring.
I'm sorry for being this way.
I'm sorry for what I did, though I can't take back my confession.
I shouldn't have fallen in love, right?
Sincerely,
Y/N
-----------------
© serenityseventeen
7/1/21 - 10:28 pm
a/n: Get well! Wishing our best leader a healthy recovery!!! + it's the month of July, which means... Wonwoo's bday (and my sister's). + Ending fairy Boo = iconic ><
#love & letter: to the thirteen boys i've loved before#ìëȘ
íž#ëìì#the8 seventeen#seventeen the8#the8 imagines#the8#svt the8#the8 svt#xu minghao imagines#xu minghao#minghao svt#minghao seventeen#seventeen minghao#minghao#seventeen kpop#seventeen#seventeen imagines#svt kpop#svt imagines#svt#svt minghao#minghao imagines#seo myungho#myungho svt#myungho seventeen#svt myungho#seventeen myungho#kpop imagines#kpop oneshots
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In My Veins 2
Part 1
Hotchniss
__________________________________________
All that you rely on
And all that you can save
Will leave you in the morning
And find you in the day
-
The five of them stand and stare at the Doctor, none of them breathing as they await his words. Words that could change their lives, their relationships, their family forever.
The surgeon removes his scrub cap and looks at them with what can only be described as pity.
âShe made it through the surgery,â He informs them, but his tone tells them there is more to the story than that, âBut unfortunately she is still unresponsive.â
âUnresponsive? What does that mean?â Garcia asks, gripping her hand in Derekâs tightly as the man tries to swallow his fear.
âThere is brain activity, which is good.â The surgeon tells them, âBut she is unable to breathe on her own.â
âBut sheâll wake up, right?â The Tech Analyst questions. The surgeon looks at her and then at the rest of them before answering.
âIâm afraid I canât answer that. Agent Prentissâ injuries were extreme. Her heart stopped three times during surgery, she also lost a large amount of blood before she got here, as well as a worrying amount on the table.â He tells them all, âFor now all I can tell you for sure is that we did manage to stop the bleeding, we were able to repair the damage to her leg with no issues. However because her heart did stop three times, her brain was without oxygen for short periods of time, so if she does wake up, there is a chance there could be some brain damage.â
âBrain damage?â JJ whispers, placing a hand over her mouth and turning away from the doctor.
âShe is currently on a ventilator that is breathing for her, her heart rate is steady.â
âBut?â Aaron questions and everyone turns to face him, before looking back at the doctor for an answer.
âBut, the changes of her coming out of this are low.â He says, âThe extent of her injuries were a major cause for concern the moment she arrived, bleeding in and near the lung, tears in major blood vessels and arteries. We have done everything we can for her. Right now, I would suggest that you prepare yourself. The odds of her waking up from this are slim, and if she does wake up there is a chance she might not be the woman you remember. There is no way to tell the significance of her brain injury until she wakes.â
âThank you.â Rossi says after a few moments, the doctor nods.
âShe is in room 804, visiting hours are still for another three hours. You can all go and sit with her.â
âDo you think sheâll wake up?â Garcia asks softly.
âI think the fact sheâs made it this far is a miracle. She must be a very strong woman.â
âYeah.â Garcia smiles, âShe is.â
âI canât tell you for certain what the outcome of this will be. Some wake up from worser injuries perfectly fine while others donât make it from lesser.. everybody is different.â He tells them, âFor now, sheâs on a ventilator but things can change very quickly. Iâm sorry. I wish I had better news.â
The team nods and the doctor sends them a sad smile before walking away.
âYou should go and sit with her.â Dave says to Aaron, who stares at her necklace in his hands while he processes what the doctor had just told them. âWeâll all take turns.â He smiles.
âYeah.â Aaron says softly, âYouâll let me know when Reid wakes up?â He directs to Morgan, who nods.
âYeah.â The agent says, quickly wiping a tear from his face. Aaron nods and walks away towards the ICU, once heâs through the double doors JJ hits the seat and sobs, a hand over her mouth as she tries to muffle it. Dave moves to sit next to her instantly, pulling her into his chest.
âShhh,â He tries to soothe, âIt's okay.â He whispers, rubbing a hand down her back. He feels JJ shake her head against him and he canât do anything for her but swallow the lump in his throat and try and soothe her.
âItâs not fair,â She cries into his chest. Rossi nods.
âI know.â He whispers, âItâs okay.â
âNo itâs not.â JJ cries, âSheâs.. She could die.â
Rossi tries to think of a reassuring reply but he has none, he himself full of fear for what could happen to Emily. The thought of losing her made him feel sick.
Derek looks away from the scene and heads towards Reidâs room just behind Garcia, whoâs wiping her tears.
âHow do we tell him?â She whispers as they stare at Reid, âHeâll be up soon and you know heâll ask for her.â
âWe tell him the truth.â Morgan sighs, sitting at the bedside and grabbing the young doctors hand.
âEmily is like a sister to him, this will break him.â Garcia says. Morgan nods and clenches his jaw to stop himself from crying.
âIf Emily dies-â Morgan stops, and looks to his best friend, âHotch is never going to forgive me.â
âOf course he will.â Penelope tells him, âYou heard him, Derek. This isn't your fault.â
âDo you think heâll still feel that way in a few days? If she dies?â
âShe wont die.â Penelope says as she messes with the covers on the bed, âShe canât.â
âYou heard what the doctor said-â
âHe said he didnât know. Not for sure.â Penelope tells him, âAnd until someone tells me for sure that she wonât make it, Iâm choosing to believe that she will.â
The two wait in silence after that, watching and waiting for Spencer to wake up.
-
The first thing Hotch notices as he walks into the room is the sound of the ventilator as it pumps air into her lungs. Itâs deafening. He walks further into the room slowly, the necklace in his hand as he flexes it into a first tightly, swallowing. Reaching her, his heart breaks at the sight. Her face is deathly pale, the rise and fall of her chest is steady but the sound of the machine breathing for her outshines the joy of seeing her breathing at all. The gash on her temple that has been stitched up makes him inhale shakily and as he takes a seat and exhales, he canât stop the tears that roll down his face. The room is dark, apart from the light coming in from the corridors. He places his hand in hers as he rests his elbows on the bed, looking at her he gently places her hand to his lips, closing his eyes. âPlease donât leave me.â He whispers, opening his eyes to look at her, âPlease.â
-
The rest of the team minus Morgan and Spencer head into the room not ten minutes later. Hotch looks to the door as footsteps echo in the room. He sends a sad smile to his team, who smile back in the same manner, each one of them unable to really look at Emily, lay there while a machine pumps oxygen into her.
âHave you eaten?â Rossi asks him softly, holding up a sandwich heâd gotten from the cafeteria.
âIâm not hungry.â Hotch mumbles, looking away from his friends eyeâs and back to Emily.
âYou should eat something, Hotch.â JJ tells him gently, taking a seat opposite him, looking down at her best friend and back up to him, âIf we let you starve sheâd never let us live it down.â She tries to joke, lighten the mood slightly and it works, a small chuckle leaves Hotchâs mouth, a shake off his head as she grins softly. âThe sandwiches are quite nice, not as stale as the oneâs back at our local hospital.â She laughs, passing him the sandwich. He takes it with a smile and nods.
âThe doctor wants to know about transporting her there.â Garcia sayâs quietly, taking a seat next to Hotch, looking at her friend she smiles sadly, âSheâs stable enough for the drive, and they thought weâd all like to be back home.â
âIt would have to be tomorrow morning, so Iâve booked a hotel for us all tonight.â Rossi tells him, âItâs up to you, about whether we go.â
Hotch looks at him, back at Emily and then Rossi again.
âWha-â He says, before cleaning his throat, âWhat do you think?â He asks the members of the team in the room.
âI think if the worse happens, she should be at home. We all should.â JJ tells him, âJack will want to see her, as will her mother, I imagine.â
âJack canât see her like this.â Hotch says quietly. Garcia places a soft hand on his arm and he turns.
âIf you donât let him say goodbye-â She stops, refusing to believe that they have to say goodbye to her. That sheâll never wake up. âHe loves her, Hotch. Give him the option to see her.â
âOkay.â He whispers, looking back to Emily, listening to the sound of the ventilator as her chest moves. He smiles sadly when he spots JJ placing her hand on Emilyâs cheek, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, before grabbing her hand.
Rossi takes a seat next to JJ and stares at the heart monitor, blinking at every beep that tells him sheâs still there. Still alive.
âEat your sandwich.â He tells Hotch without even looking at him, âSheâll kill us if you donât eat.â
Hotch mumbles something under his breath, before smirking at his friend and placing a piece of it in his mouth.
âBetter than you thought, right?â JJ smiles, Hotch laughs.
âMuch.â He tells her.
-
Derek shifts in his seat when Spencer mumbles something, pulling him from his mind.
âHey.â Morgan smiles, before placing a soft kiss on the manâs hand. âWelcome back.â
âHi..â He says, his throat dry. Morgan grabs the cup of water from the side and places the straw at the younger manâs lips, smiling as he takes a few gulps. âWhat happened?â He asks as Morgan takes the cup from his lips.
âYou had surgery but youâre fine.â Morgan smiles, âTwo weeks medical leave and some physical therapy and you should be back to normal.â
âAnd Emily? Is she ok?â Spencer asks, his eyes pleading for Morgan to tell him, Yes. Sheâs fine. Resting for now. Should be awake soon. But the silence his boyfriend gives him tells him heâs about to get the exact opposite.
âDerek.â Spencer says, âIs she okay?â
Morgan looks at him, grabbing his hand and stroking his cheek with the other, before shaking his head.
âSheâs on a ventilator.â Morgan tells him, âTheyâre not sure if sheâs going to wake up. She canât breathe on her own.â
Spencer closes his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek that Morgan wipes away.
âThis is my fault.â Spencer says, his voice breaking. Morgan sits on the bed and grabs his chin gently, making Reid look at him, before shaking his head.
âThis is not your fault, okay?â Morgan tells him, âYou were bleeding internally, it is not your fault. She wouldnât blame you. She doesnât.â
Spencer shakes his head, âI made her switch seats with me, before we left.â He says, fresh tears falling, âShe was sitting behind JJ, but I-â He stops, shaking his head, âI didnât have any sunglasses and so I asked her to switch because the sun was giving me a headache.â Spencer tells him, âIt should have been me. This isnât- It should be me.â Spencer says, before he starts to cry, the reality of the situation coming down on him.
Morgan places his hands on his boyfriend's cheeks and shakes his head.
âWe had no way of knowing what would happen.â He tells him, âThe truck came out of nowhere and ran a red light.â
âShe shouldnât-,â Spencer starts, but Morgan shakes his head.
âThis wasnât your fault.â Derek tells him, âIf anyone is at blame itâs me and the truck driver.â
âYou?â Spencer questions quietly, staring into his eyes sadly.
âI should have been the truck. Should have-,â
âYou couldnât have predicted that the truck would run the light.. our light was green, you-,â Spencer says to him, âIf it wasnât my fault, it wasnât yours either.â
âOkay.â Derek accepts, before placing a soft kiss on the younger manâs head.
âIâll go and tell everyone youâre awake, Iâm sure theyâre after some good news.â
âOkay.â Spencer whispers, âWill you tell Hotch I want to speak to him?â
âSure.â Derek smiles, before standing, looking back one more time and smiling, before leaving the room.
He stands at the door of the room Emily is in for a few moments that feel like forever, before he gently knocks and opens it.
As he steps into the room all eyes are on him and he gives them a nod, before swallowing and taking a deep breath.
âReid is awake.â He tells them, looking anywhere but at Emily. He canât. He blames himself far too much to even glance at her. The sound of the ventilator making him want to throw up.
âHe is?â Garcia smiles, before her smile drops as she realises he has probably just found out about Emily. His confidant, his sister, his protector. âHow is he?â
âHe..â Derek says, before shaking his head, âHeâs okay, physically, but.. Heâs heartbroken about⊠about Em.â
Everyone stays silent as they look to the floor, all their heart shattering that little bit more at their youngest agents' pain.
âHotch..â Morgan says gently, the man looks at him, âHe wants to talk to you.â Derek tells him.
âHe does?â He questions, not accepting it.
Morgan nods, âI can tell him youâll see him tomorrow if you want to stay here..â
âNo I erm.. Iâll come and see him later.â Hotch tells him, still a little shocked by his request.
Derek nods and looks to the floor, before taking a breath and looking at Emily. He exhales and looks away just as quickly.
âCome on,â Rossi says, standing and heading towards the door, âI could do with some good news right now.â
âYeah.â JJ breathes out, placing a soft kiss on Emilyâs hand before standing.
âWeâll be right back.â Garcia says, squeezing Hotchâs arm, the unit chief nods and gives them a small smile as they leave the room.
As the door closes behind them, he looks back at her and runs his thumb over her cheek gently.
âI donât know if you can hear me.â He says softly, âBut iâm asking you to fight anyway. Fight. And come back to us. To me.â He tells her, âYou promised me forever so you donât get back out of that agreement.â He smiles at her, tears rolling down his cheek. âPlease, please come back to me.â
Hotch leans back on his chair, his hand still wrapped in her limp one and he takes a deep breath, smiling as he remembers their morning not too long ago.
Heâd woken up first, the light from the window in her bedroom piercing through, making him squint slightly as he opens his eyes. He rolled onto his side and smiled at the sight of a still sleeping Emily Prentiss, lay on her front, her head turned towards him, one hand tucked underneath her, the other covering her face slightly. He leaned his cheek against his hand as he lifted his head up, the other hand running a pattern over her exposed bare back, the covers lowering during the night. As his fingers softly traced her back he smiled, looking at her.
âStop staring at me.â She mumbled, her eyes still closed but a small smirk on her face. âitâs off putting.â
Hotch laughed at that, which made her open her eyes and stare right back at him.
âGood morning.â Heâd said, a grin on his face.
âHmm.â Sheâd replied, âIf youâve woken me up before eight on a Saturday morning youâll be spending the next few alone.â
âGood thing itâs just past nine then.â He told her, she smiled as he spoke to her, the feeling of his fingers on her back sending her right back into a slumber.
âYou really should have black out curtains in this room. Itâs in direct sunlight and itâs very off putting.â He told her, a clever grin on his face as he uses her words. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.
âItâs a new apartment, forgive me for not having the curtains up.â She joked, rubbing her hand over her face before sighing.
Hotch lifted his hand from her back and to her face, gently pushing some hairs from her face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her lips, smiling slightly when her hand found his cheek.
âGood morning.â She finally greeted, whispering it against his lips that were inches from hers. He caught them in another kiss which she smiled into. Sheâd lifted her body up and over him, straddling him as she looked down at his face. His hands rested on each side of her face, his thumbs running gently across her cheeks. Bending down, she melted her body into his, gently crashing her lips onto his.
The sound of his phone broke the moment and she laughed into their kiss and he groaned in annoyance. He grabbed the phone from her side table.
âHotchner,â He said, rolling his eyes. Emily laughed silently, placing stray kisses across his jaw, neck and shoulder blades, enjoying the gentle way his fingers traced her back.
âItâs a saturday.â He said to whoever was on the phone. âFine.â He told them a few moments later.
Emily groaned and rested her head on his shoulder before sitting up straight, legs still straddling him.
âAnyone would think the place would burn down without you.â Sheâd complained, he laughed.
âMaybe it will.â
Emily looked at him and ran a hand up his chest.
âHow long will you be?â She asked him, he huffed a breath.
âNot long, I hope.â He told her, âJust some paperwork.â
Emily nodded and lay herself down on him, her chest rested on top of his.
âYouâre only Jack free for another twenty four hours.â She whispered, âIf you hurry up we can still make the most of it.â Her lips meet his and he runs a hand down her back.
âNoted.â He told her as she pulled away, a little grin on her face. âIâll be two hours, tops.â
âIâll hold you to that.â She nodded, âI donât like to be kept waiting.â
Theyâd stood up and sheâd made the coffee while he got ready to go into the office. He met her in her kitchen and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her front and placing a kiss into her neck.
âDonât you have somewhere to be?â
âJust making the most of it in case I get dragged into a full day.â He told her, she leant back into him and squealed when he turned her to face him, his lips on hers as soon as she was facing him.
âI love you.â He told her when he pulled away, sheâd smiled.
âI love you too.â Sheâd told him, âNow go.â She laughed, passing him his coffee. âIâll be here when you get back.â
âGood.â He smiled, âIâll hold you to that.â
âIâm afraid youâre stuck with me, Hotchner,â Sheâd said, her lips inches from him, âForever.â She smiled, placing a quick kiss on his lips before taping his ass and laughing, walking away.
âLock the door, please.â Sheâd called as she walked into the living room.
Hotch spent the day with a smile on his face and was back in her arms two hours later.
-
Hotch jumped slightly when a hand landed on his shoulder.
âSorry,â Rossi said, âDidnât mean to scare you.â
âItâs fine.â Hotch mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as his mind replays the memory, his heart shattering just that little more at the thought that they may never have that again. That he might never get to hold her again, kiss her again..
âReidâs still asking for you.â
âYeah?â Hotch asks, still unsure about why the young man is asking for him.
âYep.â Rossi nods, taking a seat opposite him at the bedside, âGo. Iâll stay here. Visiting hours are over soon.â
Hotch stares at Emily, before nodding, knowing she would want him to be there for Reid right now. Right now and alway, just like she would be. The man stands and heads out of the room, placing his hands in his pockets as he walks to the room Reid is in.
Standing outside it, he takes a few breaths before entering.
âHey.â He says, âHowâre you feeling?â Hotch asks Reid, who looks at him with guilt written all over his face and Hotch starts to think he doesnât have it in him to comfort the young agent right now.
âWeâll leave you to it.â JJ says, patting Morgan on the back in a hint to stand up.
âIâll be right outside.â Morgan tells Spencer, who nods.
Once the room is just the two of them, Hotch heads further into the room and stands.
âItâs good to see you awake.â Hotch tells him.
âYeah.â Reid says quietly, âI need to tell you something.â He says, and Hotch nods, remaining calm and collected.
âOkay.â He says, preparing for whatever he is about to hear.
âItâs about the crash.â Spencer tells him, looking at his boss, âAbout Emily..â
âReid..â Hotch starts, not in the mood to hear another person who isnât at blame to tell him how itâs their fault the woman he loves could die.
âNo, Hotch..â Reid tells him, âI know itâs not my fault.. the crash, I mean..â
Hotch looks at him, confusion on his face and Reid clears his throat and tells himself to not cry. He canât cry. This isnât about you.
âShe..she should have been fine.â Reid tells him, âI made her switch seats with me, before we left the station.â
âWhat-â Aaron tries to say but the young man shakes his head and carries on.
âThe only reason sheâs on a ventilator and..â He stops, âIt should have been me, Hotch. And iâm sorry that it wasnât. iâm sorry that itâs her when it shouldnât have been.â Reid tells him, a soft cry at the end of his sentence.
Hotch swallows the lump in his throat at he pain in Reidâs voice and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed.
âNo matter what you did or didnât do, no matter who sat where. This is not your fault, Spencer.â
âHow can you say that⊠if I had just gotten in the car and dealt with the headache then-â
âThen it could have been you, I know. Iâve ran through this a million times, Spencer. But nothing can change what happened. There is no point blaming yourself. It canât be changed.â
âIâm sorry.â
âYou have nothing to be sorry for.â Hotch tells him, eyes directly on his. âNothing. Okay?â
Reid nods slowly, before wiping the tears heâd shed and grabbing his bosses hand.
âI really am sorry about Emily..â
âMe too.â Hotch said, squeezing his hand and standing, âWhen youâre up for it, you should sit with her.â
âAre we going home tomorrow? Rossi said something..â
âYeah.â Aaron tells him, âWe all thought it would be best if we were all back home incase-â He doesnât finish the sentence. He canât. But Reid gets it.
âSheâd like that.â Spencer smiles.
-
Once out of the room, Hotch walks a few steps before dipping down a hall and leaning against the wall, taking a few deep breaths while he closes his eyes.
He feels Rossi next to him, and the man just stands there, ready to be there for whatever he needs.
âThe hotel is just a few miles away. We can come back first thing in the morning and get her transported to D.C.â Rossi tells him. Hotch nods in understanding, staring at the wall.
âShe canât die, Dave.â Hotch says brokenly, âI..â
âI know.â The older man says softly.
âI canât do this without her. I canât lose another person I love. I canât.â
âIâm sorry, Aaron.â Rossi tells him, âI know how much you love her.â
âThis canât be happening.â Hotch says, shaking his head, âHow can this be happening?â
âLife is cruel.â
Hotch snots and looks to the floor, âYou can say that again.â
âIâm not going to stand here and tell you that everything will be okay, because there is a very large possibility that it wonât be.â Rossi tells him, âBut I can tell you that Iâm here for you. And Jack.â
âThank you.â Hotch whispers, âI keep thinking about how Iâm going to tell him this. He really cares about her, Dave. They have this incredible bond..â Hotch smiles at the memory of the two of them, âHe canât lose anyone else. Heâs lost so much and heâs only six.â
âYouâre doing the right thing.. in giving him the opportunity to say goodbye. Giving him some closure.â
âDo you think this is it?â Hotch asks, looking at his friend, âDo you think weâve lost her?â
âI think that the fact sheâs still fighting means something.â Rossi tells him, âBut.. sheâs been through a lot. Sometimes itâs knowing when enough is enough, and letting go.â
Hotch turns away and looks to the wall.
âSay goodbye, Iâll meet you out front and weâll head to the hotel. You should get some rest.â
âYeah..â He whispers, leaning off the wall and forcing himself to take the steps to the room sheâs in.
The sound of the ventilator breathing for her will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.
#hotchniss#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#hotchniss fic#criminal minds fic#derek morgan#spencer reid#david rossi#in my veins
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A Marriage of Inconvenience (5)
overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc
overall genre: angst | smut | fluff
warnings: language, mentions of drugs + drugs affecting health, mentions of a hospital-like setting, jeno being an ass, mentions of violence, oppression of women (kinda)
summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?
words:Â 4k
masterlist
requested by đ€Ą anon
19 April
You felt your eyelids heaving down on you as you forced your eyes open, bright light flooding to your pupils immediately making them dilate, and close your eyes again. There was numbness to your body, but you could feel the weakness of your heart as you opened your eyes once again, trying to sit up from where you were.Â
A figure came into your view however, pushing you gently back down against the softness of the bed. âItâs good youâre awake,â you recognized the raspy voice as Markâs, his face coming into your vision as your head hit in the pillow again. âDonât try to get up, though, just stay there.â You glanced down at your hand, an IV was taped down against your skin, and your eyes moved past Mark, looking around at the hospital-like room. Yet, it didnât quite looked like a hospital. âYouâre in the hospital wing,â he said, gaining your attention as he read your mind. âYou wereâuh, Iâm sure you know, but you were drugged. Andâum, you kinda overdosed.â
You opened your mouth in a slight âoâ formation, the thoughts not fully going through your brain until they came rushing at you full speed, the memories of what had happened in that red room coming back to you in less than a second. You shot up, this time, your head whipping over to where Mark was now trying to convince you to lay down again. âJisung! Where is he?! Whereâs my Jisung?!â
You tried to move yourself off the bed, your body only meeting against the manâs hands as your mind didnât think of anything other than your brother. Struggling against him, he caught your legs as you attempted to swing them off, pulling them back onto the bed. My brother who took a bullet for me. âWhere is he?!â You screeched, your ears not registering anything that he was trying to tell you, your hands clawing at his shirt as you remembered it all: his side-step, the blood, his innocent face. âWhatâd you do with him?! What did you fucking do with him?!â
âY/N! Heâs fine! Heâs fine!â Mark was screaming back at you, his heart slowing down as he saw tears welling up in your eyes at his words, your movements slowing down. âHeâs fine. Jisungâs fine. Heâs okay, heâs okay.â You took a few deep breaths, your hands removing themselves from the fabric of his shirt, allowing you to calm down.
âWhere is he?â
âHeâs in the room right next to this one, okay? Heâs doing well, the doctors were able to get through the surgery successfully. Heâs okay now, heâs not hurt anymore.â Markâs voice was soothing, and he watched as you sobbed silently, not even caring that you were letting your emotions out in front of another. âHeyâheâs fine, heâs okay. Heâs as jolly as an apple pie!â You werenât really sure why he used such an analogy, but it seemed to reassure you a little as you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears messily.
âI want to see him,â you said, your voice coming out more broken than you expected it to. âCan I see him? Is it okay for me to see him?â
âYeah, of course you canâif you think you can walk there. Or, I can go get a wheelchair, though that might take a while since the nurses are kinda annoying and they donât reallyââ You swung your legs off the bed, your feet meeting the ground as you grabbed onto the mattress for support at first, your head dizzying for a brief moment as Mark looked at you incredulously: like you had just juggled with fire. âOrânot, I guess.â He added, rolling the IV tubing alongside you, allowing you to grab onto it.
âIâm fine,â you said, more to yourself than to him. You were still feeling like you were out of this world, and your body was probably still being highly affected by the drugs that were laced into your bloodstream. Though, you felt better now that you werenât being coerced into getting more injected into your veins. âIâm fine. I just need to see him.â
Mark led you out of the room slowly, not helping you walk as you blatantly refused him, telling him over and over again that you were okay. He listened however, watching you as you took steps towards the room that Jisung was currently in. You didnât even bother knocking, the door sliding open with a swipe as you opened it, the room being empty of everyone except your brother. There was a massive amount of equipment, much more than the amount that was in the room you were in as you walked to the side of the bed, your eyes falling on the large bandage across his chest.Â
You took a shaky seat on the small stool beside the bed, not wanting to wake him up from his slumber but also wanting to hear his voice again. Sighing, you let a hand graze over the top of his head, giving an endearing stroke to his soft hair. âOh Jisung,â you whispered, brushing his bangs away from his forehead, stopping momentarily as you felt him stir. âSungie?â
The boyâs eyes fluttered open in slow intervals, blinking carefully as he turned his head to face you, his eyes falling on your devastated figure. âY/N...â He let out a small whisper of a breath, one that he almost choked on as he tried to get a good look at himself. âIâI got shot, didnât I?â He asked matter-of-factly, making you scrunch your face up as you tried not to let the tears out.
You remembered it, clear as day as he was in front of you in less than a flash, falling in the same fashion as you heart screamed out. As much as you wanted to kill the boy for being all brave, you were more than glad that he was able to survive, especially since it had been a fatal shoot to his heart. âYeah, you dumbass,â you managed to get out, your voice cracking in the slight. âYou just had to put on the brave act, didnât you?â
Jisung laid back down against the pillow, offering you a soft smile that calmed your nerves. âIt wasnât an act, you know,â his voice was hoarse as he spoke, but his look was still the same, staring up at the blank ceiling. âIt kinda hurt...and it still does. What about you though?â He tilted his head towards the drip beside you, standing tall as it was still connected to your hand. âAre you okay?â
âErâwell, I overdosed.â
Being immersed in the chat you were having with your recovering brother, the two of you didnât seem to notice the door open slowly; it was Jeno, about to check on his...brother-in-law? To be honest, Jeno didnât even know what to call Jisung, considering he wasnât actually married to you and wellâhe didnât even know if the wedding would be happening anymore. His thoughts clouded him for a brief second, just a second before he heard you let out a tumble of laughter. His eyes trained on you as you reached over Jisungâs bed, moving to ruffle his hair violently with a huge smile plastered to your face: a smile, a real smile. It looks good on her. He shook his head, what?Â
âYou know you can walk inside, right?â There was a voice in his ear, startling Jeno as he meant to take a step forward, silently cursing from the sudden sound. Mark leaned against the doorway, looking from the two siblings and then back to Jeno. âWhy? You donât wanna intrude? Youâre already watching them from the doorway like some creep, might as well go inside while youâre at it.â
âShut up,â his snapback was weak, eyes falling back on your figure as gave Jisungâs hand a squeeze, your smile never fading from your lips as you did so. Your head tilted towards the door in a natural motion, your curved lips retaining their normal line as your eyes fell on Jeno and Mark. Jeno went frozen at the sight of your smile disappearing as fast as it appeared, cursing to himself. âFuck...â
He wasnât sure why he liked it so much, but that was probably the most beautiful you had looked in front of him, away from the way you always had snarky remarks and scowls in your face in front of him. You didnât have your usual disgusted look, but it went back to its tired complexion as you stood up from Jisungâs bed, loosening your hand from the now drifting boy.
âDonât tell me you like her now,â Mark continued, his voice much lower in Jenoâs ear now. âKind of a bad time, you know. Considering her brother just gotâshot, you know. Shot by your brother.â
Jeno gave him a sharp look. âHeâs your brother too.â
âYeah sure, but Iâm not the one marrying her,â he gestured to you, shrugging shortly before stepping back. âYou might want to apologize before you try something, Jeno. Or itâll just backfire.â And with those words, and a âitâs not my faultâ from Jeno, he walked down the hallway of the hospital wing, leaving the area.
Markâs words held some truthâthat being his chance with you would backfire before he even triedâbut he couldnât just try anymore, either. Trying was for first times, for the first meeting perhaps, first word or first glance. But what was this, first life-threatening experience?
But there was something different that he felt went he saw you smiling and laughing and talking like that, something that told him that maybe he shouldnât have been so harsh on you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. Maybe he shouldnât have declined you before he knew you. Maybe he shouldnât have spoken back to you when you hadnât even opened your mouth.
Jeno had seen the scars of punctures in your arm; there were way more than there shouldâve been in a day. The doctor had said that you were somewhat tolerant, probably from training that you had done to become resistant to drugs, but the way your body was crumpled without life made him curl his fists for the brother that had given it to you in the first place. That was...brother number two, he thought. One out of the two that wanted his fiancee.
And then there was the other one, the one that had spat in his face and told him that you werenât Jenoâs, but his. The one that had yanked the chain around your neck so hard that it left a dark scar on the back, and had dropped it on the floor with a sickening clang. There was no ugly jewelry around your neck any longer, and for some reason, it felt empty to him.
He hoped, as you walked out of the room without a second glance at him, that perhaps eventually, that ring could be replaced: replaced from hanging against your chest to fastened around your left ring finger. Maybe even sworn as his wife.
20 April
You had been released from the room in the hospital wing to go to your own room, even though you wouldâve rather stayed beside your brother instead of on another floor of the palace. But you were sent back anyway, told that you could visit anytime that you wanted to. However, it didnât occur to you that the palace wasâmassive, not until you had to navigate your way to Jisungâs room.
It was in the mid-afternoon when you had run into the same silver-haired man that had drugged you a day before. Except he didnât look the same, his hair was a darkened shade of brown and his face wasâapologetic. He introduced himself to you again, giving you a long bow and calling himself Donghyuck, before moving away from you, not sparing you a glance as you continued down your path. He didnât give you much of an explanation, and for a second you wouldnât thought he was a look alike if he hadnât directly apologized forâwell, injecting deadly substances in both you and Jisung. Only then you had realized that you were in the west wing.
Yet it didnât seem to hit you until you stopped in front of a room that had a slightly open door, the bed looking identical to the one in your room. It smelled of a familiar scent, however, one that you couldnât quite pinpoint as you moved to take a step inside. It wasâoddly inviting, but thankfully you had hesitated, as the bathroom door opened shortly after that.
You took in a sharp breath as your eyes roamed over the emerging figure of the blond boy, a towel drying out the wetness in his hair as he walked out with only another towel laying low at his hips. There was still water dripping from his heavy toned body, making the skin glisten as he moved to the dresser on the other side of the bed. The movement made you realize what you were doing as you let out a small squeak to seeing his hand grasp the end of the towel, and he whipped his head over at the sound at the exact same time, his eyes falling on your huge ones.
You turned around as quickly as you could, pressing your back against the wall with your heart beating out of your chest. God, why did I stay? I shouldâve just left. He saw me, didnât he? Fuck, I better just run for it now. But you couldnât move, your feet were planted on the ground without even a little ability to step forward and away, and worse of all wasâhis body was still on your mind. Jeno hadnât shown off his body before, especially not those arms that you just saw being involuntarily flexed as he dried his hair. It did things to youâthings that shouldnât really be happening. You still hate him...right?
âY/N?â
His voice was soft, a sort of bittersweet feeling as he peeked out from his room, his dark eyes resting upon your rising and falling chest. Your name spilling from his mouth wasânice, different than what the usual âParkâ sounded like a harsh, and usually reluctant call for you. You felt yourself heating up in embarrassment as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didnât give away emotions. Well, considering from the way you looked like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, he probably could sense how you were feeling.
âUmâhi,â you scratched at your head, your eyes flitting down to where the towel was still hanged at his hips and immediately bringing them back up, gulping as you focused on his face instead. âYeah, um, Iâam...lost. Yeah, lost. I was, uh, trying to get to the hospital wing.â
He blinked, as if you had said something that he didnât expect you to say. Hopefully he hadnât realized the way you were very affected by his body, but a small smile ghosted over his face, surprising you. âI can take you there, but I gotta get dressed first. Do you want to come inside?â
Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he smiling like that?! âUm, yeah, okay. Sure, yeah.â You shut your mouth before you could allow yourself to stutter over your words any longer. He moved the door open a little more, his body lightly brushing past you as you made your way inside.Â
The door shut with a quiet thud as you walked in further, trying to seem interested in the displays of jewelry on his bedside table. You couldâve sworn you heard him let out a chuckle as he moved back to his dresser, his back facing you as he opened one of them. Taking a quick glance, your eyes grazed across the ink on his back, making you gasp louder than you expected yourself to. Jeno turned his head, facing your shocked expression. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing,â you answered in a small voice, quick enough as you looked away, âI justâdidnât know you had a tattoo.â
âYou like it?â
âHuh?â
âI mean,â he let his hand graze over his left side, touching the ends of the thorns lacing over his back. They were large, thick and filling over the entirety of his left back, leading to the side of his hip. It intrigued you to know how far it actually lead, if it decorated his thigh just in the same fashion. âDo you like the tattoo? Itâs...a few days old. I got it right before you came here.â You werenât sure why he was telling you that, was the tattoo meant for you?
âY-Yeah, itâs nice,â was all you could get out, not being able to look away from his body now. To him, it seemed like all that confidence from literally just two, maybe one day ago had been thrown out the window to absolutely nothing, leaving you so flustered in front of him. For some reason, he wanted to coo at how innocent you looked.Â
Wait, why would I do that? Your fingers were playing at the hem of your shirt, nervously picking at the threads that were adorning the edges, and he couldnât seem to take his eyes away from the motion. But...she looks so cute right now. Her lips look soâ
âSo I met Donghyuck,â you blurted out, trying to ease away the silence as you watched his eyes train up to yours again, his eyebrows narrowing. âOh, uh, I mean quite literally, he didnât try to kill me this time. So, um, donât worry about that.â Your voice faded near the end, wondering if he would even care about it anyway. âYeah, um, Iâll just, turn around.â
Jeno knew that Donghyuck had been coerced into helping Taeyong, especially from the way he had begged for mercy when he got a hold of him later, confessing what truly happened. Mark had convinced him to let him go, telling him that locking up Taeyong in the dungeons for a bit should clear up the issue instead of doing so the young one, and he brought him back to the hospital wing in one piece. Well, he wasnât completely ecstatic from the way he had decided to drug you so hard that you overdosed, but he couldnât quite control himself. Taeyong had gotten him addicted as well, using it as a bait to help him in his plans.
But he didnât expect to see what he saw when he looked back over at the surveillance footage, watching his younger brother take your chin into his own grasp and kiss you so hungrily with a type of fever that he hadnât seen from him before. He seemed like another person when he taunted you with his teasing words, calling you pet names and rubbing your skin, but then injecting you with heroin and watching you take it all at once. And from all of that, all he could get from it was...possessiveness.
With a few steps he was standing in front of you, his gaze focusing on your wide eyes as you felt your heart jump again, probably higher than it had before. âY/N,â he sounded out, clicking his tongue pointedly. âDo you...hate me?âÂ
You werenât expecting that. âI,â you looked around hesitatingly, not sure what answer he wanted. Is this some kind of quiz? Pop quiz, I guess? Mind game? Right? He wants me to say yes, right? I donât get it. â...Donât hate you.â Maybe you disliked his earlier snarky remarks, but you couldnât quite say that you hated him...right? He did come to save me, though...kinda.
âDo you want to marry me?â He asked with a hint of desperation, perhaps a hint that you didnât quite notice. He took a step forward, making your heart now lurch into your throat. Wow, this man was really rendering you breathless right now. âRight now?â
âNow?!â
âNo, no, I mean likeâin this moment like right now. Not from the shitty way I treated you before, I mean like right now. Right here, in my bedroom. You didnât want to marry me before, I...know that, and neither did I. But I want to know, do you want to marry me now?â He let out a breath after his short ramble, and you blinked, not sure how to respond.
There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you want to tell him yes a hundred times over, to wipe that look off his face and replace it with that same smile you saw a few minutes ago. But there was also the entire rest of your heart reminding you of how he viewed you earlier, as nothing but a rival, a girl, a competitor.Â
âHow am I supposed to answer that?â You asked shortly, tucking half your bottom lip under your teeth making a sucking sound. For some reason, you didnât notice how it affected Jeno, however, because his eyes were now fixated on your lips. âWhat if I asked you whether you want to marry me? We were both forced into itââ
He cut you off expertly, holding the nape of your neck as his lips pressed down against yours, hard. You stumbled back from his sudden attack, your lower back hitting the edge of the mattress as you attempted to keep up with his pace. Hands went against his bare chest, pressed back against the warm skin as he leaned impossibly closer, sucking slowly on your lip.
His tongue explored into your mouth first, taking you aback as you tried not to stumble back any further, pushing him back as hard as you could. He was stronger, devouring your lips as if he was a man of pure hunger, one that had been deprived of food for so long. And thatâs when it hit him, when he felt the skin of your palms graze over his chest, it was so...wrong.
âNo,â he pulled back, his lips bruised from how hard he had crashed them against yours. He scanned you: your confused expression, your swollen lips, your messy hair. You took a step forward, reaching out to him, maybe with a certain hope but he moved back from your touch, shaking his head repeatedly. âNo, I canât do this. I canât...this isnât fucking right!â
âJenoââ
âY-You,â he gestured to you, a scoff adorning his once soft voice as he felt fire course through his veins. âYouâre just a fucking Park. Another fucking useless girlâshit! Iâm not supposed to like some bitch Iâm forced to marry, what the fuck?!â He seemed like he was talking more to himself than to you, but it made your heart drop to your feet, lower that you thought was possible as his face scrunched in disgust.
You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you couldnât help but feel so utterly stupid, what else could you have expected from someone like him? So careless, so judgemental; he was such a Lee. But why did it hurt? It shouldnât hurt. Itâs not supposed to hurt. I shouldnât have let him in.
I canât believe I let him kiss me. âIâve never met someone so fucking selfish as you, Lee Jeno.â you wished you couldnât sounded stronger, but it was just a tang of anger along with hurt, so much hurt. His bright eyes flashed over yours, softening so slightly when he saw the tears welling in them. âI hope you realize one day that maybe I donât want to fucking be here, either. I donât want to be somewhere Iâm clearly not not wanted, especially not by the man thatâs supposed to love me.â
âIââ
âSave it,â you turned away from his wiping the tears messily off your face, feeling stupid for letting them fall in the first place. âIâm leaving. Donât worry. Donât you fucking worry, Lee. Iâm leaving, and hopefully not coming back.â
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hi..please donât cry. i mean...i didnât kill jisung?!?! hehe, love you guys âĄ
#a marriage of inconvenience#amoi#amoi masterlist#nct dream#jaemin smut#mark lee#haechan#jeno#nct scenarios#nct smut#donghyuck#haechan fluff#jaemin#jeno x reader#nct mafia au#nct lee jeno#jeno mafia au#jeno fluff#jeno scenarios#lee jeno#jeno smut#jeno angst#lee donghyuck#nct dream jeno#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#nct angst#nct fluff#nct drabbles
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Hypermobile anon here. First, thank you so much. It's just nice to know there's someone here for me. And to give a little more info, I have a serious problem where if I'm not currently in pain. I don't remember how bad it was. I know everybody does this, but my brain literally checked out as I was going to bed recently and I fell on the floor. I nearly forgot to tell my physical therapist.about it because it didn't really hurt. So, I can't do the pain scale very well, and I never remember (1/2)
(2/2) It just makes it sort of hard for pain relief when I don't know I'm going to need it and don't have the energy when I do. Also, on the vitamin subject, I know that I've had vitamin d issues before (bad heat exhaustion and allergy scares = going outside less), bad enough that I was close to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm not sure about the others, but I do know I'm not amazing healthy, so? I take calcium pills for the vitamin d, though. Again, thank you guys for all your help.
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We just got a bill from my PT place that says we owe money that we can't pay. They told us up front how much it would be with our insurance, and my mom's been paying each time, but it says we owe 177 dollars. Sure, it's not a lot, but we're not rich and trying to send a sibling to college. If we can't get this sorted out. I can't just not go. 10 exercises I can do at home and 5 appointments is not enough to help a chronic disorder. I cant focus and I have practice in 30 mins. -Hypermobility anon
Same day but later when I'm feeling a little better (my director was very supportive though so that's nice), I'd seen the letter and heard my parents talking a bit, but my mom told be as we got to school for rehearsal about PT. I got upset, and I felt bad because I could tell she felt bad because she didn't expect me to be upset, and in the heat of the moment I said "chronic illness" in front of my mom for the first time. She loudly (not quite yelling) (1/?) - Hypermobility anon
said to me "That is the most self-pitying thing I've ever heard. Chronic illnesses are like cancer". Sure, I probably should've said disorder and not illness, but I'm scientifically right. Then I said "It is, it's chronic pain, I am always in pain" and she said "Well then clearly PT isn't helping anyway" - I??? When I went in after 15 minutes after another girl, since we were both there for an hour and a half, I decided to stop trying too much to hide my crying (useful masks) (2/?) -HSD anon
since the other girl was in the hall to eat, and when I managed to explain to the director, she was understanding and nice, and when I said chronic, she said that I should never have to live with that, especially at my age. And when I mentioned not being able to sing at that moment from my crying, she pointed out how I was singing an empowering song that was about standing against the bad stuff in life, and I was perfect for it. I know my mom was just mad, but it just drained me.
Sorry I keep sending asks so often, I just feel like telling someone this. I decided to put 'zebra' in my bio. It's a thing that people with EDS and HSD sometimes like to call themselves. I like it, so even though I just have my name and pronouns, plus a random joke, in my bio, I added it. It just feels like a step in the right direction to remembering that I don't need google to tell me I'm dealing with this every 5 minutes. Accepting it, I guess. :) -HSD anon
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My sleep schedule just keeps getting worse and I think it's my ADHD combined busy days and pain but I just never want to sleep anymore. I can't, I don't want to, and it hurts physically and mentally to just lie there and see if I can fall asleep. 80% sure my circadian rhythm changed to sleep at about 2 am but I get up at 7 and have a chronic disorder that's getting worse because of this I *need sleep*. And I'm so scared I'll mess up, want to make a side blog for it but want to make one (1/2)
for something happy first because I always figured that if I had side blogs they would be ask blogs or for fandoms or whatever. But I got a little better at not caring what other people think, so I haven't really needed one for fandom. But I looked through the tag and felt so comforted by some of the stuff that I just think it would help me. Maybe I'm just extra bad tonight because I went outside but also talked about it a fair amount with a friend I hadn't seen recently who didn't know. -HSD
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I wanna talk to my physical therapist about hip braces because I tried a knee one we have and it honestly helps, but my hips are worst so I wanna see if it would help, but they're pretty expensive. It's hard to find dual hip braces, from what I've seen in my research, and even though one more than the other, both cause me issues. Idk, I'm conflicted, because it could help but is it worth all the effort? Also, even if it's under clothing it's still physical evidence (1/2) -HSD anon
(2/2) of my "invisible" disorder. Also, stopping exercises for a few days because of not feeling well from my covid shot reminded me of just how much time I spend on them, so it's another thing to deal with this. . . Idk, sometimes I just wonder if it would be better to just deal with it. I still have pain anyway, though it might be a little better. Less often, maybe? I don't really remember. It's not stressing at the front of my mind all the time, but the back of it. I'm just conflicted. -HSD
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HSD anon here, idk if I mentioned it in an ask already, but recently I had a small breakdown because I was watching something where a character was in a car accident, as was trying to push through having trouble walking even with a hip brace. After a minute, I registered it and just thought "That could be my future". My joints had already been acting up and then they got worse, so I don't know if it was cause and effect? But I don't exactly know what to call it other than a trigger. (1/2)
Physical and emotional effect, at least I'm assuming on physical because I've had a bad reaction to something similar before, but like, I don't have trauma, I think it's more fear of the future. And I don't want to use trigger incorrectly, it's insensitive to those who actually have triggers. I'm just so confused.
Forgot to sign the last ask with 2/2 and HSD, whoops.
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Hfnsiwk I'm not ready to walk into PT tomorrow and say that I don't think months of PT have been helping but I have no way to be completely sure because for all I know it's the weather since this is the first year I've known/it's been noticeable. Maybe it's just change, I don't know, but it just feels like such a waste of time if it really didn't help. Plus, I'd stop, and while that'd be great, I do enjoy being stronger, even if it didn't help pain. I have 12 hours and a bad pain day idek. -HSD
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Hi Hypermobility Anon,
I think I found all your asks and got them in the correct order. And found your last ask!
Iâm so glad you kept writing in. I think you should go ahead and make your side blog - you definitely have enough material for it. Wanting to make a happy side blog also is a great goal to have, but if you donât know what it will be yet, donât let that prevent you from doing something you know you want to do and that will probably help you. Â
You are dealing with So. Much. Your mom especially sounds like she just is not ready to accept the situation. Itâs not self-pity to state your actual conditions. Itâs just reality. Â
Forgetting about pain is normal, and really all you can do is try to write it down or make some kind of note about it in the moment or immediately after, so you can refer to it later. Maybe you can track your pain events in your phone notes.
I think your idea to add âzebraâ to your bio is a good one, this is part of your life and just something you have to deal with. It sounds like youâre finding a community for this. Â
Sleep schedules are tricky, and feeling like you desperately need to sleep can make it so stressful that it starts a vicious little cycle. Some strategies to get around this are First, remember that just resting is okay and helpful too, even if you donât fall asleep. Letting your body lay there to rest is good for you. Â
Second, if youâve spent several minutes laying down without falling asleep, its okay to get up and walk around, or any small light exercise thatâs comfortable for you. The goal with this one is to get out of the bed for a bit. It will help your brain to re-learn that the bed is for sleeping only, not for laying awake. That association can help signal to your brain to start its sleep-process when you get into bed at night.
Third, itâs really common to have a changing circadian rhythm during your teens and twenties. Thatâs just a thing that happens and you canât do much about it, so just try not to worry too much. Sleep when it feels right and when you can, instead of trying to force yourself to sleep when youâre âsupposedâ to. Â
If hip braces would help you, you should definitely at least mention it to your physical therapist. You might research online for any used ones as well. A physical sign that you have pain can have good and bad consequences, but I think the good consequence of being in less pain far outweighs any others.
The triggering event you described is not so much a trigger as it is just a genuinely really upsetting situation. You related really strongly to the character you were watching, because theyâre dealing with similar problems to you, and to problems you could have in the future. Itâs a lot to process. But while you could potentially be in a car accident, remember that television is made to dramatize events and probably made it seem a lot more difficult and scary than it really would be. Â
Since we know you sometimes forget your pain, itâs safe to say that the exercises are helping you manage it, and you say that theyâve made you stronger in general.  Those are good things, and I would recommend you continue the exercises you can do on your own even if you end of ending your physical therapy sessions. We donât know yet if your pain might have gotten even worse without therapy. Youâll have to find that out on your own if you stop exercising, and then decide whether itâs more worth it to you to continue exercising or to live with the pain. Whichever you choose, itâs Your choice, Your body. Take care of yourself. <3
-bun
#hypermobile#hypermobility#hypermobility anon#hsd anon#hsd#hypermobility spectrum disorder#pain#physical therapy#pt#vitamins#exhaustion#allergies#money#chronic pain#chronic illness#Ehlers-Danlos syndrome#zebra#mom#sibling#masking#director#classmate#chronic disorder#sleep patterns#adhd#exercises#covid mention#covid vaccine#accommodations#triggers
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Remember? -A Pokémon Story-
Chapter 11: Panic
You stare out a small window, a few raindrops from last night's storm lingering on the glass. You watch the city grow smaller and smaller as you ride further from the island. After your 'incident' some hours ago, Professor Kukui and Professor Burnet came to the hospital to find out what happened after a frantic phone call was made to their home. You told them your side of the story: that Xurkitree attacked you in the hallway. They had given each other a worried glance, and carefully explained what really happened.
"(Y/N)... we saw the footage from the hall cameras. Xurkitree was never there," Kukui had said.
To put it simply, you freaked out a bit. You thought you were going crazy, but Burnet had told you there might be an explanation. She hypothesized that since you had direct contact with Xurkitree when it abducted you, it was able to enter your subconscious when you almost died, but since you were resuscitated, the encounter was interrupted and left you and Xurkitree with an unnatural connection.
So basically, Xurkitree has a direct line to your brain, making you see it when it isn't really there. Then they had to address the other elephant in the room: the weird electricity that shot out of your body.
So that brings you here, on a boat headed for Aether Paradise. Burnet has some lab equipment here that she wants to use to run some tests. You're sitting below deck with Ash, Pikachu, and Cato, while Kukui and Burnet are up top. You aren't a fan of the water, so you're upsettingly watching the land shrink farther and farther away.
"How are you feeling?" Ash pipes up, trying to break the heavy silence. You turn from the window and look over at him.
"Okay, I guess. I don't know why they're making me wear these, it doesn't really hurt," you say, gesturing to your wrist and ankle braces. Ash smiles slightly.
"Maybe because you almost died," he says in a teasing way. You give a small laugh and shrug.
"That's true," you admit. You look down and see Pikachu playing with Cato, a smile tugging at your lips. You haven't seen Cato play in a while. Then again, with everything going on, how could anyone want to play? Your smile falters as you start thinking about your Dad. Ash notices and speaks up again.
"So.. have you ever been to Aether Paradise?" he questions, trying to distract you.
"I don't know, but I doubt it," you say, flatly. Ash nods slightly and turns to look at Pikachu and Cato, giving up on his efforts to take your mind off everything happening. You turn back to the window, watching the fast-approaching Aether Paradise.
~~~~~
You follow Professor Burnet down to a lab full of different scientific equipment. You look around nervously, wondering what these machines are meant for.
She asks you to take a seat on a large chair, and you obey. Burnet walks over with a syringe and you clam up. Not wanting to admit another fear, you just look away as she draws some of your blood. You let out the breath you were holding when she walks away, though you feel a little lightheaded. She takes it over to yet another machine you have never seen before, and inserts the vial.
Burnet goes on to take some scans of your body, getting all the information she can on your biology. You wonder if this is all really worth it.
After a while of being poked and prodded, she finally seems satisfied. As she studies her findings, you and the others find something to distract yourselves with. Ash and Pikachu are busy messing with machines they probably shouldn't be touching, and Kukui is sitting in a corner reading a book. You're sitting on the floor, leaning against Cato. You yawn as you stare off into space. Sleep hasn't been something you've gotten much of, lately.
You close your eyes as you lay your head on Cato's back, his soft fur becoming a substitute pillow.
~~~~~
You hear someone calling your name, gently shaking you awake. You open your eyes and see Ash's worried face above you.
"Burnet found something," he says. You get up, quickly making your way over to her at a computer. As you approach she gives you a small smile, and turns back to the monitor.
"After looking at all the data I collected, I think I figured some things out," she starts. "The human body has naturally occurring electrical currents that run parts of our body, like the nervous system. Our cells conduct this electricity to send signals throughout our bodies and to the brain so we can feel and move. Well, something's different about (Y/N). Looking at her cells, it seems like there's an excess amount of electrical currents present in her body. And when I say 'excess', I mean a lot. Enough to send out a surge like she did in the hospital," she explains. You stare at the images, unsure of what you're hearing.
"It seems like (Y/N) can manipulate this extra electricity inside her cells," Burnet states, glancing over at you. You just stand there, mouth slightly open, trying to wrap your head around this.
"H-how did this happen?" you stutter, looking down at your hands. Burnet turns back to the computer and pulls some other images up, including one of Xurkitree.
"You said that you have been gone for almost two years, and Ash found you in Ultra Space not too long ago. This means you were in Ultra Space that whole time, in some sort of cryogenic sleep. So, my theory is that Xurkitree was the one who put you to sleep there, and it was trying to fuse with you like Nihilego did with Lusamine," she explains.
You look at her, confused, not sure where she's going with this. You vaguely remember overhearing something about Ash's friend's mom in Ultra Space.
"But, it couldn't fuse with you for some reason. So, being in Ultra Space, the amount of electricity it used on you was absorbed by your body instead of coming and going, like it would have in our normal dimension," she finishes. You stand there, speechless, staring off to the side.
"(Y/N)?" you hear someone say, though it sounds far away. You feel a hand on your shoulder, but you quickly flinch away, taking several steps backwards. Your heart starts racing, and you begin to take rapid breaths. You look up at the others, their worried faces staring back at you. You can't stand the way they look at you anymore. The looks of sympathy and helplessness.
You turn on your heels and run out of the lab, needing to be anywhere but there. The ankle brace makes it a little difficult, but the adrenaline numbs any pain. You can hear them yelling your name, but it only makes you run faster.
'Why did this have to happen to me?'
***
Chapter 12: Memories
#pokemon#pokemon x reader#professor sycamore#professor kukui#professor burnet#ash ketchum#professor sycamore x daughter!reader#dad!sycamore
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Comfortember Day 2. First Day/Night + Day 24. Panic Attack
The Curtain of the Night (brings fear, not delight)
@comfortember
Read on AO3
Day and night were very different things for Peter.
During the day he could be happy, forget about his worries, his stress, and his fears. He could shove it aside and carry on with what he needed to do. School work, patrols, lab days, and days with May helping distract him.
On some days he could feel almost normal, almost like there wasn't a cloud hanging over his head bringing darkness, despair, and fear with it. On some days he could smile, and he could be happy, and he could forget the bad times. Forget the anxiety that was constantly nestled in his chest, and forget that it was waiting to tighten and constrict once again.
That couldn't happen at night. As darkness fell so did he, his thoughts drifting towards those of failure, of disappointment, of wrong. The thoughts that were him.
He didn't like those thoughts. They burned, twisted and warping as they wormed themselves into his head and heart. They brought his fears and his faults to life in the darkness.
Everyday when the sun fled, everyday that evening drew to a close, Peter would be filled with dread for the sleeplessness or the nightmares when he slept, the loneliness or the terror when he didn't (which was more often than he ever wanted to admit to.)
Peter would push his homework later and later, patrol for as long as he could, talk to Ned and MJ for as long as he could, all in a bid to stay awake just a bit longer. To stay safe and pretend as if his mind wasn't his enemy just a little more.
And most of the time he got away with late or even entirely sleepless nights because May wasn't always home, her shifts at the hospital running late, being a night shift, or the times she had to pull a double. Peter hated deceiving her, lying to her and pretending that he was okay and asleep when she did arrive home.
He hated it but he didn't know how else to cope because this was working. Maybe not in the best or most healthy way, but it was working.
Until he had to stay with Mr. Stark for a week while May was sent to help at an understaffed hospital a state or two away.
He hadn't even arrived at the compound but Peter knew what was happening, knew that Tony would notice and not let it continue but Peter didn't know whether to be angry or grateful for it.
His carefully broken system was being pushed and shattered but maybe he could hold the pieces together well enough to get through the week.
---
As it turns out, he couldn't. Tony had taken one look at him and immediately stated that they were skipping the lab that day and instead would be heading up to the living room to lounge and watch movies.
"You look like a racoon, kid." The man had poked his cheek near the corner of his eye playfully but Peter could hear the underlying concern in his voice.
"As if you look any better." Peter had sassed back, cringing inwardly at the obvious forced lightness to his voice.
Yeah, his charade wouldn't last a second around Tony.
The rest of the evening had passed with the two of them watching whatever shows they bounced between on Netflix and then eating the takeout that Tony had ordered, Pepper joining them just as it arrived.
Peter could almost forget that he had to sleep that night. He had tried to but the anxiety of staying at the tower with Tony and Pepper for the first time was weighing down on him. Okay, yeah, he'd stayed before but that was in the medbay after accidents on patrols, not a specific amount of time or reason like now. They'd also had many movie nights and lab days but he always went home.
Peter was jerked from his thoughts by Tony nudging his leg from where he sat on the other end of the couch. "You with me, kid?"
"Uh, ye- yeah, no, I'm here." Peter muttered as he tried to bring himself back to reality. "Sorry."
Tony looked at him, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "You feeling okay? You've been a bit more spacy than usual."
"Just tired. Sorry." Peter hummed absent-mindedly and Tony nudged him again.
"No needless apologies, kid." He reminded the teen. "We discussed it, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know, soâ uhh⊠I know." Tony couldn't help the amusement that bubbled inside of him when Peter floundered with the almost apology.
Worry still grew inside of him too.
"You sure you're good though?" Tony asked again.
"Yes, Mr. Stark. I'm just tired."
"How about an early night, then?" Pepper's voice rang from her place in the kitchen as she made herself tea.
When did she go to the kitchen? Peter wondered to himself before realizing what the woman had said. Anxiety suddenly flooded him and his eyes widened, breath catching slightly.
No, I don't wanna go to bed. I can't.
Tony saw the way Peter's eyes widened before they went blank once again. He almost thought he was imagining it until he saw the tension in Peter's shoulders.
"Yeah, that uhâ that sounds like it might be a good idea."
No it doesn't.
The thought of having to go and lay with his thoughts as company wasn't appealing to Peter but he didn't know how to get out of it now.
"Good." Pepper smiled at him. "Spider babies need their beauty sleep."
Peter only vaguely remembers his response as his mind drifted slightly more away.
"Are you sure it isn't Mr. Stark that needs his beauty rest?"
The following laughter from Pepper and sputtering from Tony is the last clear thing that Peter recalls until he suddenly found himself on the floor with his back up against the couch and his legs tangled in the blanket half falling off the cushions.
A hand gripped his shoulder and another one was holding his own against a firm chest. Following the line of the hand, Peter looked up into the worried eyes of Mr. Stark. The older man was saying something but it was too far away, too muffled, for Peter to decipher.
The teenager was distracted by a strange ache in his chest. It felt like there was something pushing against his ribs, the pressure building and flowing up to his head. His eyelids started to close when there was a sudden stinging in his cheek.
"Peter! You need to breathe, kid! You can't check out on us now." Tony's frantic voice sliced through the fog clouding Peter's brain and everything crumbled with it. Light, sound, and touch all flooded back and for those first moments Peter was blindsided by the input before it calmed.
"Peter!" That was Pepper from behind him to one side. "Breathe, Sweetheart. You need to breathe. Follow Tony, feel his chest as he breathes. You can do it."
That was when he realised that Tony holding his hand against his chest was to help him follow the exaggerated rhythm of the man's own breathing. Drawing in a breath was difficult, his lungs and chest fighting for relief but his brain not wanting to listen.
Choking in tiny mouthfuls was all that Peter could do in the next minutes until, finally, his chest started to loosen and he was able to gulp in more air.
Through it all Tony's hands never left his shoulder and where he was pressing their other hands to his chest. Tony knelt in front of him and Pepper sat near them, her calm and quiet presence helping in itself to calm Peter in turn.
They stayed that way until the only remnants of Peter's panic was a burning in his throat and shaking hands. The exhaustion started settling in and his head tilted forward, thudding against Tony's collar as the man moved his hands to cradle him closer.
"M'Sorry." Peter's voice was barely loud enough to hear.
Pepper ran her hand gently across Peter's back and he was reminded of May when she would help calm him during an attack. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Pepper said to him, and he felt Tony nod in agreement.
"You were dissociating and you started panicking. You back with us now, Bug?"
Peter only gave a weak shrug in answer.
"Okay." Tony murmured. "That's okay. Can you tell us what happened? What triggered this?"
Peter was silent for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to go into it now because he knew that Tony wouldn't let this slide completely and that even if he got out of it now, the man would question him in the morning again.
Eventually he nodded, his head never leaving Tony's chest.
Pepper and Tony stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak if he was ready to.
"Brain was loud, too much. Scary. Didn't wanna sleep, it doesn't let me sleep." Peter's abstractness worried Tony but he knew from his own experience that it was because of the exhaustion currently settling after the rush of panic.
And then Peter's words registered. Oh, Kid.
"Why didn't you say anything, Petey?" Pepper asked before Tony could.
"Cuz it was stupid. Shouldn'a let it affect me like that."
Tony spoke immediately, a vehemence in his voice Peter didn't often hear. "You and what you feel are never stupid, you hear me? You are valid, Bud, and so are your fears and troubles."
He didn't know why but hearing that brought tears to Peter's eyes. "I'm so tired!" He cried and it broke Tony and Pepper's hearts. "I just want to sleep and for it to be quiet!"
"Is there anything we can do?"
Peter hesitated and Pepper jumped on it. "We'll do whatever we can, okay?"
Shaking his head Peter muttered something. Tony nudged him slightly on the head with his chin.
"It's embarrassing!"
Tony pulled back and lifted Peter's chin to look him in the eyes. "I've done plenty of embarrassing things in my life, Peter. This can't be worse than even half of said things that I've done."
Peter was tempted to try and brush it off but the older man had called him by his name. He never did that. Only when I needed Peter to really listen, to realise just how important what he was saying was.
"I can't sleep alone after panic attacks." Peter admitted, his voice small, embarrassed. "I used to climb in with May and- with May, but I stopped cuz I'm too old."
"So what do you do then?"
"I can't sleep after them and if I do try I just get nightmares and more attacks so I stay awake."
The couple shared a glance over Peter's head. "Okay, that's not happening anymore." Pepper said before she continued, cutting off Peter's question before he could ask it. "What we're gonna do for now is get cleaned up and changed for bed, then we'll head to the movie room with the pillow floors and set up for the night there."
"That way you won't be alone and we'll all have enough space, okay?" Tony carried on.
One part of Peter wanted to fight it, to say that he didn't want to be a burden or an annoyance but the other just wanted to be loved, to be held and protected. He let the latter lead for once.
"Okay. But what about tomorrow? You said 'For now' so what's after?" Peter asked them nervously and this time it was Tony who answered.
"Tomorrow we're gonna call May and talk to her together after breakfast when her shift ends. I want to talk to her and you about setting up some meetings with a therapist or someone that can help more than all of us could. Is that alright with you?" Tony asked him gently. "Would you be willing to try that out?"
Peter was nervous of that particular idea but he knew that he couldn't carry on like this so he nodded his head in consent.
Seeing his nervousness at the idea Pepper cut in before it could build to something more stressful. "That's for tomorrow though. For now let's go and get changed and we can try and see about getting you some sleep." She slid up from the couch behind Tony and Peter before holding out her hands to help them up.
Before she could let go Peter surged forward and pulled her and Tony into a hug.
Thank you, it whispered to them without needing words.
You're welcome, they hugged him back.
---
Peter didn't sleep perfectly that night but his sleep was more rested and calm than he had in a long while. His mind almost quiet.
It wasn't much but it was a start. It would take a while and many setbacks, repetitions of being told he was loved, cared for, and not a burden, but one day he would reach an evening that didn't bring the darkness of his mind with the fading of the sun.
#irondad#spiderson#comfortember 2020#peter parker#tony stark#ironman#spider-man#irondad fanfic#irondad fanfiction
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