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#and my mom’s doctors were shocked she was able to have kids and she eventually had to get a hysterectomy her issues were so bad)
lesbiansanemi · 1 month
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Being brave and trying to set up appointment with gynecologist today. Hell on planet earth
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wouldpollyapprove · 2 years
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Preference: Getting Into An Accident
Summary: How characters from Law & Order: SVU would react if you got into an accident.
Characters: Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi, Elliot Stabler, Nick Amaro, Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Rafael Barba
Warnings: mention of an accident
A/n: It’s been ages since I’ve written a preference. They are one of those things that I have a love/hate relationship with. I love them, I really do, but there comes a point when I’m halfway through them that I get bored and don’t want to do it anymore. But I did enjoy this b/c I love these characters and I came up with this idea on my own, so obviously I want to write this.
Masterlist
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Amanda Rollins:
Amanda was in shock when she found out about your accident. Once she got off the phone, she quickly grabbed her coat and headed to the hospital. She was by your side as much as she could be. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she’d bring you food and watch movies with you. She’d suggest all the movies her mom would put on for her when she was sick as a kid. When you’d get out of the hospital, she would come stay with you for a few days to help you out. She wouldn’t be allowed in your kitchen, the woman can’t cook, so you’d both eat a lot of take out or she’d get Sonny to come by and make dinner.
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Sonny Carisi:
He would be so worried. Sonny would stay by your side as much as he could and when he couldn’t he’d be pacing the waiting room or praying in the hospital chapel. When he’d be with you, he’d try to raise your spirits as much as possible. He’d bring you sweets and he’d even have his mother make you one of the soups she always made for him when ever he’d be hurt or sick. When you’d be discharged, he would help you around your house, cleaning, cooking, doing whatever you needed. He would also be a mother hen and refuse to let you doing anything that might irritate your stitches.
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Elliot Stabler:
He would be super stressed out once he learned you had gotten into an accident. He definitely wouldn’t leave the nurses alone if you were in surgry, just trying to find out what was going on, if you were going to okay, anything at all. He would never leave your bedside, sleeping in the chair next to you no matter how many how many people told him to go home and sleep. Olivia would eventually bring him a change of clothes. When you’d be discharged, he would insist that you stay at his place and recover there. There was no use putting up a fight, so you’d do it. Elliot would wait on you hand and foot, bringing you food, books, drinks, anything you wanted. You’d tease him for it, but you loved how caring he was.
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Nick Amaro: 
Nick would be much like Elliot expect his mother would also be there. His main thing would be that he wouldn’t want you to be left alone, especially if you were really hurt. If he couldn’t be there he would make sure his mom was. He would also give you more freedom than Elliot. He would make sure you didn’t over do it and that you got plenty of rest, but as soon as you’d tell him to back off or let you do something, he would. He would hate it the whole time, but he knew better than to argue with you. He’d just stand back, giving you a soft glare, but worrying the whole time.
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Olivia Benson:
Olivia wouldn’t know what to do. Whether she admits it or not, she likes having control over thing and not knowing what’s going on while the doctors are taking care of you would drive her crazy. She would be so loving, though, once she was able to see you. She’d make sure you’re all comfortable and if you were cold, she’d bring you a blanket. She would definitely bring food and drinks that you liked and anything else you’d want from you house. When you’d be able to go home, she’d help you as much as she could. She’d clean for you and cook or out take out, whatever you preferred. She would also encourage you to follow your doctor’s orders and would take you to follow up appointments if you had any.
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Fin Tutuola:
Fin wouldn’t be the best at caring for you, but he would be so worried when no one was telling him anything. If he is anything, it’s steady, constant. He would always be there, day and night. He wouldn’t know what to say, but he would bring you anything you asked for and watch the doctors with hawk eyes. When you’d get to go home, he’d insist on driving you and helping you with whatever you’d need. But you but a stop to that once he offered to cook for you because you knew better than to let him in your kitchen.
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Rafael Barba: 
While he would act calm once he’d gotten the call that you were in the hospital, he would beat himself up over the fact that you were alone and that he wasn’t there for you. He would race to the hospital to be by your side and listen carefully to whatever the doctors told the two of you. But as soon as you’d be on your way home, he would tell you what his mother or grandmother would do in that situation. He’d be a walking medicine book of all these traditional “cures” that he’d suggest you try. And if you didn’t believe him, he’d tell you about all the times they worked for him and, if you still didn’t believe him, he’d have you talk to his mom.
*~~*~~*
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bardengarde · 8 months
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SHAKES FIST!! I need to know more about your FMA Ocs!! I don't have any specific questions SO JUST- INFODUMP GKLFDJLKGF,,,, Anything about them THEY LOOK SO COOL,,,,,
JDJGJGKGKDKD JEEZ I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER THIS BUT IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME THANK YOU SO MUCH AAAAAAA
I have about 6 FMA:B ocs at the moment and tbh they can be split between a group of kids I have from Leore and two Briggs folks (though one is retired from the military) But without further ado!!
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Damaris is one of the first fma ocs I've made!! She's from Leore, her mom is Amestrian and her dad is Xingese and they run a flower and tea shop, respectively. Damaris is a hugeee nerd as well as a tomboy and she's not afraid of getting her hands dirty and was known to brawl with neighborhood bullies, especially if they picked on any of her friends. She's 19 by the events of the series, and uses medicinal alchemy as well as a form of alchemy that allows her to change the chemical makeup of metal and wears a set of bangles and rings she turns into a knife and brass knuckles, respectively. She's also Bi 😗✌️Her introduction into the series occurs shortly after the Elric brothers expose Father Cornello as a fraud, when she returns from her studies of alchemy and alkahestry in Xing on word that her mom is seriously ill.
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This is Sylva Cartwright! He's one of Damaris' childhood friends and they are opposites in almost every way between her extroversion and his introversion, her recklessness and his anxiety, etc. They are besties tho and she defended him a lot from people picking on him when they were kids. His dad is a Colonel at Briggs who works in Intelligence, and his stepmom is a school teacher in Leore. He works in Damaris' dad's tea shop and is also 19 during the series.
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Rena is another of Damaris and Sylva's friends. She's also 19 in the story. Her mom ran a bakery and pastry shop in Leore and her father was a tailor. They were both murdered in the Ishvalan massacre, and she and her younger sister Miriam were separated. Rena holds onto hope that her sister survived, however, especially after she's given a crumpled letter in her handwriting meant to tell her that she's trying to find her. She has significant burn scars on the left side of her face and her shoulder and torso.
Rena eventually returns to Leore and finds Damaris and Sylva who are both equally shocked to see her again when they'd feared the worst for her, and there was a tearful reunion between the three of them before Rena explains that she's looking for Miriam, thinking she'd tried to go home too and when she's not able to find her in town, Damaris and Sylva both agree to travel with her across Amestris to find her.
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And this is Miriam! I can't tell you very much without spoiling the story I'm wanting to write with her, but do know that she's alive. She's 16 during the story.
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One of my (former) Briggs oc's! This is Laurel Enfield, he is currently a foreign languages professor at a military academy in Central. He holds the rank of Brevet Colonel, and is retired from the military after receiving a very serious injury that cost him his right arm and left him with a permanent limp. He's about 33 during the series and is prematurely graying because he went through a lot of stress with u know.... almost dying, and having a particularly brutal recovery process.
Despite how I drew him here, he's very sweet and a huge nerd about history and languages and eventually becomes bf's with @decoloraa 's William Thorne! He actually only had a minor role in my story but my friends decided he was babygirl so I was able to really flesh out his story and give him a larger role!
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Whew! And finally this is Dr. Antony Fairchild! She is a psychiatrist who works at Briggs and is a huge lesbian. I don't have any colored drawings of her unfortunately so this will have to make do😭. She comes from a family of doctors in Central and is a bit of the oddball in that she chose psychology as her specialty- which I sort of view as holding a lot of uncharted territory with current studies in Amestris. She's sweet and got a corny sense of humor, and I look forward to writing her shenanigans with the Briggs medical team!! I also ship her with Patricia 👀
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saltymcsaltything · 2 years
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A Waking Nightmare
TW: Torture, abuse, suicide
When I was a young child, no older than probably 8 or 9, I first started to realize that there was something different about me. My intense emotions, my sensory sensitivities, my chronic migraines — I knew these were things that most other kids my age didn’t experience. I knew enough to know that all of these problems were in my brain, and that my brain was different. I knew there were other kids, and adults, with different brains too — I had friends from the time I was old enough to talk that were developmentally disabled, although I didn’t know that terminology or what exactly it meant. I was aware that some of the people I interacted with on an almost daily basis had brains that were different from most people, and I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.
But I definitely thought there was something wrong with *my* brain, because I knew I had trouble dealing with my emotions. I cried constantly, I shrieked, I panicked. I was afraid of so many things, and I found so many things painful that others didn’t. I attracted a lot of attention I didn’t want to attract. I got yelled at by teachers for “overreacting” to things other kids did or said to me, and then yelled at and written up for crying when they yelled at me. I didn’t want that kind of attention. I didn’t want to do the wrong things, to feel wrong, and to have a brain that was wrong, but I knew that a lot of other people, especially certain kids (bullies) and certain teachers (*also* bullies) had no problem telling me that I was weird and that it was wrong to be weird. I knew something was wrong with my brain.
I only knew of two things that could be wrong with my brain: I could either not be able to think and read well (meaning intellectually disabled, although that was not the terminology people used back then — the r-slur was still considered an acceptable term by most adults), but the teachers who liked me always told me I was smart, and I knew I could read well, so it wasn’t that. The other way my brain could be wrong was for me to be “crazy.” I didn’t know what that was exactly, but when I was 8 or 9 I first learned about my paternal grandmother, the one who died only a year or so before I was born.
I learned that she was sick… sick in the brain. I learned that some people hated her for it. I learned what her illness was called.
My grandmother had bipolar disorder. My mom explained it to me a little, and told me that it was what led to my grandmother’s death. She had jumped off a bridge. Her brain was wrong, and in my naive mind, anytime I was made to feel like my brain was wrong, that is what I thought of. I was scared people would find out I was like her, and hate me, and that I might feel like I had to kill myself too. The alternative in my mind actually seemed worse.
The only thing I knew about mental health treatment was from movies — and in the 1980’s, asylums and mental hospitals were mostly only shown in horror movies. Sometimes, the patients were the ones who were supposed to be scary, but to me, the doctors and staff were always the scary ones. They kept people locked up, and they hurt them. I don’t remember which movie it was where I first saw “shock therapy” depicted, but it stuck with me. In my mind, that was the kind of place I would go, the kind of people who would be running it, and the kind of things they would do to me there.
I started having nightmares about being taken away, locked up, and shocked for being crazy like my grandmother. I internalized a fear of institutions, psychology, and psychiatric treatment at a young age. But as I got older, I eventually learned that those images and scenes were being exaggerated and were based on things that had gone out of favor ages ago. They were just there to be scary.
I still had nightmares about those types of conditions — schools and hospitals that were like prisons run by sadists who punished me for my abnormality. I would try to escape over and over again and keep finding myself back on the inside of the fence line know matter how many times I scaled it and started running. They were still just as terrifying, but I started to think of them as a just a nagging echo of childhood fear. I still thought my brain was wrong, but I had begun learning to hide it, because even if I was confident it was just fiction, it was better not to ever have to find out for sure, just in case I was wrong.
The nightmares finally ended by the time I was in college, but my fear of all things related to psychology didn’t end with them. That fear had stuck to me for years. I still thought I might be bipolar, but I didn’t want to find out. I still avoided therapy, and still cringed whenever psychiatry was mentioned, especially any sort of inpatient treatment. If someone joked that I was “crazy” or seriously suggested that I might need help of any kind, I resisted. I told myself it was irrational, but I couldn’t shake the fear of allowing myself to be vulnerable. My walls were all that had protected me for years, and to open myself up to that kind of scrutiny would have meant making myself defenseless.
Even in my darkest moments, it still took years and a lot of pushing from loved ones to get beyond those fears. I got into therapy. I slowly opened up. I slowly learned to trust. I slowly accepted treatment. I slowly started to heal. It was a necessary step to understanding myself, and a few years later, it led to my evaluation and my Autism & ADHD diagnosis.
But a few months after I received my diagnosis, I learned that the nightmare was real after all. I learned about the Judge Rotenberg Center and its use of electric shock as an “aversive” on autistic and other developmentally disabled people. It was what I had feared all along, for over 30 years, and what I had told myself couldn’t possibly be true — not anymore, and certainly not on children and teens. I was thrilled when the FDA banned their patented torture device, and appalled that it wasn’t ever stopped because the implementation on the ban was delayed by COVID. I was even more appalled when a judge overturned the ban, and infuriated when I learned that parents supported its use on their own children.
I was also infuriated, but no longer surprised, that JRC has been attempting to silence critics while simultaneously using the cover of Applied Behavior Analysis International to market and advocate for the use of torture on disabled people. I watched about 10 seconds of the video from a 2012 lawsuit that they settled showing the actual torture — I had to stop after the first shock was given because I was about to have a panic attack.
They are still doing this. They never stopped, and now they are presenting this treatment at the ABAI 2022 conference in Boston. They’ve been given a platform over the objections of autistic advocates, human rights organizations, parents, and survivors of their abusive practices, because they have deep financial ties to ABAI. They’ve done this despite criticism from their own membership.
I’m not here to detail the practices — they are well documented and easy to find, but also disturbing beyond belief. I’m not hear to argue with apologists. I’m simply here to say that as a child, I had a recurring nightmare — a nightmare that because my brain is wrong, I would be locked away and tortured. I thought that nightmare wasn’t real.
But it is, and there are people living my nightmare today.
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kendrixtermina · 6 months
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Why are you banned from cuba?
I didn't do anything cool to get banned or anything, since I was, at the time, a 10 month old baby.
From what I've been told, there is, (or there was in the 90s?) a rule that if you flee, you can never come back, due to "betraying the revolution" - or because your parents did.
Though normally they don't let children out at all (and the law is if you're born in Cuba you get ONLY Cuban citizenship, no matter what your parents have), some trickery was required to abscond with a baby. My father was supposed to do a postdoc at a European university & come back, he pulled some strings to be able to bring his wife & kid. He'd come back willingly from a previous student exchange to Canada, so maybe that's why they left him.
Even so, mom had to skillfully distract the guy controlling her luggage so she'd be able to smuggle out my father's medical books.
And even then they probably only let us out because tensions were high in the mid '90s, every couple of years they let some ppl out so they don't start rebellions.
Thus, my parents were happily reunited and proceeded to almost immediately conceive my brother in their rejoicing. (my mom likes to joke that she's lucky my bro ended up taking after the paternal side of the family or there may have been questions about the timing)
Though my mom was shocked to see my father looking all thin, as he had been saving money for the plane - that was before he got his doctor credentials recognized so he took a student job at a pizza parlor.
Eventually, though, he got his permit, and in the end, they filed for asylum before they were supposed to go back. I think he claimed discrimination due to being catholic? (which there really was)
We even ended up in a refugee center for a few days. But since the Cubans wouldn't take us back, they more or less had to give us Asylum as there was nowhere to send us back to.
We were lucky cause my father was a Doctor & at the time they prided themselves of their medical system & sending doctors to prestigious foreign exchange programs etc.
He applied to programs both Germany & Japan, and even for a green card. I think he got accepted to all but picked Germany because it has less natural disasters. No earthquakes or Hurricanes etc. If things had got differently we may have gone to Japan. He even prepared himself by learning both languages.
A lot of people can't even temporarily get out and try to swim or boat to Florida, and get eaten by sharks. That's not joke in the least, btw. The keep finding human feet in Sharks' stomachs around there.
My only "contribution" to our daring escape was to be an adorable baby, which, together with some suggestive winks from mom, distracted the guy checking our papers enough that he didn't go through our luggage.
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byunmyeon · 3 years
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Philophobia
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↳ pairing: lee suho x reader
↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.
↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak
— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!
There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.
Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.
It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.
After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.
When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?
The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.
Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.
Lim Jugyeong.
He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.
Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.
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The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.
When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.
Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.
He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.
Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.
And you were right.
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As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.
However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.
You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.
It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.
It scared you.
Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.
Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.
Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.
At least, you hoped they would.
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Philophobia.
Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.
You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.
Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.
But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.
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Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.
“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”
The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.
“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”
Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”
It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.
“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”
The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.
“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”
There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.
Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.
It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.
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“Is it true?”
Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.
“Are you really my soulmate?”
“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”
But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.
“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”
“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.
You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.
“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”
I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.
“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”
For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.
“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”
And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.
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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years
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When the Chips are Down
part 15
masterlist
Hello my darlings! I’m back from vacation, and I have an update for you! after leaving you on such a cliffhanger too. If you haven’t checked out the newest fic in the Forbidden Fables collab, you should! @chimchimsauce​ has done a fabulous job with it, and I’m always a sucker for a good Cinderella story. --- chaotic puff
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Shock. Horror. Despair.  All of these things ran through him in waves as he stared at the door in front of him. Y/N was behind that door. Y/N was behind that door, and she was dying while he sat out here helpless to do anything about it. Jin had shut him out of the room, demanding he stay put while he went to go help the doctors with Y/N. 
He’d thought that after the hours of pain they would get to sit and enjoy their little girl in peace, but it seemed like that wasn’t meant to be. Instead he and their daughter had to sit alone and forlorn without any idea how she was doing. 
The baby made a small distressed sound, bringing her father’s attention to her, and Namjoon suddenly realized he had no idea what to do. He’d read the books. He’d planned, but he had no idea what to do in reality. Y/N would have known. She was a perfect mother, but Namjoon didn’t and he felt lost. 
“It’s okay, princess.” he cooed, awkwardly bouncing her. “Eomma is gonna be just fine.” 
That didn’t seem to help anything as she let out a sound that was more of a squawk than anything else before bursting into tears, crying her little heart out. Namjoon didn’t know that a being so small could make such a loud noise, and it sent him into a panic. 
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he begged, but she seemed set on ignoring him. “Please don’t cry.” 
“Oh, goodness.” came the exasperated sigh from the other end of the room drawing a relieved sigh from Namjoon as salvation was in sight. “Give her to me.” Sen appeared as if from nowhere with a diaper bag hung on her shoulder to scoop the screaming infant from his arms. 
“How’s, Y/N?” Yoongi asked, plopping into the seat beside him. 
“I don’t know.” The screaming stopped, Namjoon looked up to see Sen’s swaying back and forth gently, happily cooing at the baby. “How did you do that?” He asked in awe. 
Sen turned, showing him the newborn happily settled in her arms with a bottle of formula. “She’s hungry and mom’s not here. She’s a little upset. The least we can do is fill that belly.” she smiled gently down at his daughter, and he even caught Yoongi with a ghost of a smile from the corner of his eye. They were good together despite both of them arguing that it was a matter of convenience and that the only reason they were together was their son. 
“I don’t know what to do…” he whispered, staring down at his hands. “I thought… I thought Y/N would be here.” 
“She’ll be fine.” 
Sen nodded along with Yoongi’s words. “Do you want to try?” She offered, a little awkwardly. She and Namjoon had never been on the best of terms. 
“I don’t…” Sen rolled her eyes, starting in on giving the crime boss instructions on how to hold his arms and cradle her head as she settled the upset infant into his arms. Nara was quick to settle as Namjoon offered her the bottle again, cradles in his arms as Sen sharply reminded him to mind her head. “See? It’s easy.” 
“She’s so small.” he whispered, awestruck despite how exhausted he was. 
“Newborns are like that.” Yoongi deadpanned. 
“What am I going to do if something  happens to her?” he asked, brow furrowing and making him seem even more haggard than he was. “I don’t know anything about raising a little girl.” 
“She’ll be okay.” Yoongi assured him, the smallest of smirks tilting up the corner of his mouth as he watched Namjoon begin to panic again as Nara started fussing once more. It was a simple fix. Sen had Namjoon fix the angle of the bottle, and all was well again. “She’s tough like that. She’s put you through your paces, that’s for sure.” 
A half choked laugh escaped him as he lifted his gaze to meet that of his old friend’s. “She has, hasn’t she?” 
“With any luck this little lady will be more like her than you.” 
Another choked laugh. 
“We’d all be doomed.” Yoongi shrugged, gently tugging at the tiny foot that was poking out of the blanket. “Who’s with Yoonho?” 
“Hayan. That woman loves kids.” 
“Think she and Jin will be having any soon?” 
Yoongi gave him a look that clearly conveyed that Namjoon should have known the answer to that question already. “You know how he is with her. They’re probably not going to have any until Jin is absolutely certain she’s healthy. He thinks the poor woman is going to break if she so much as sneezes.” 
Soon enough the bottle was done, and Namjoon thought he was free and clear. She’d been content the whole time, and Sen had been kind enough to do the burping and changing before handing the baby back to him. She was convinced that if he stood up while holding her, he’d drop her. She claimed he looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over, and she didn’t want to be responsible for telling Y/N why her brand new baby had been dropped on her head. 
The problem came when Nara was handed back to him. She was fed, changed, and burped, and by any normal reasoning she should have been content and probably drifted off to sleep, but no. the moment that she was back in his arms she started caterwauling again, and nothing he did soothed her. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking between the couple frantically. “What did I do?”  
“Here.” Yoongi let out a long suffering sigh and scooped Nara out of his arms. Magically, she stopped crying within minutes, settling against Yoongi’s chest as he leaned back in his chair. 
“How did you do that?” 
“Maybe she just doesn’t like you.” Sen shrugged, rummaging through the diaper bag. She pulled out a pacifier and handed it over to Yoongi who took it and offered it to the sleepy little girl on his chest. 
“She’s my daughter.” 
“She’s Y/N’s daughter too.” 
Yoongi and Sen stayed with him for a while, occasionally they would try to hand Nara back to him, and she would scream each time, but eventually they had to return home to their son. Jin had made them promise not to let Hayan overdo it. Namjoon was left alone with a diaper bag and a screaming child who would not settle no matter what he did. 
He was exhausted. He was worried, and slowly, a tinge of resentment settled within him as he looked at his daughter. This tiny, squawking being was the reason Y/N wasn’t with him. If she hadn’t been pregnant, none of this would have happened. Maybe if it had been a son, maybe then it would have seemed a little more worth it, but it was a girl. He’d been so excited when Y/N had told him, but now all he felt was bitterness. He was going to lose his wife, and it was all this tiny, useless girl’s fault. 
He was on the brink of throwing her across the room when Jungkook appeared. He hadn’t left the house since Y/N had first gone into labor, but it was the first time he’d seen the boy since Nara had come into the world. 
“Is this her?” he asked, nervously eying the screaming bundle in his hyung’s arms. 
“Yeah.” 
Very unceremoniously, Namjoon plopped the baby into Jungkook’s arms despite the younger man’s panic at being offered the baby, but to both of their amazement, Nara stopped screaming after a time. 
And then, in the quiet as Jungkook cooed at his daughter telling her how pretty she was, he began to resent himself. It wasn’t Nara’s fault. She was only a few hours old, so new and small. She didn’t know what was happening to her mother. She didn’t know that she was going to be all alone in the world if her mother didn’t pull through. It wasn’t her fault. She was just as frightened as he was, and he didn’t know what he was doing. She didn’t even have the added benefit of being able to understand what was going on. None of that was her fault. 
“Is there any news about noona?” Jungkook asked softly, staring at the same door that Namjoon had been anxiously staring at since Jin had pushed him out. 
“I haven’t heard anything.” he admitted, staring down at his hands. “The doctors are with her.” 
“Has Jin hyung been out?” 
“Not yet.” he sighed. “She likes you.” he glanced over seeing his daughter drifting off to sleep in Jungkook’s arms. “She screams every time I hold her.” 
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re stressed. Baby’s don’t like stress.” Namjoon’s eyes widened. The thought hadn’t occurred to him before. He’d been on edge since Jin had pushed him out of the room with Nara in his arms. He hadn’t thought that his nerves could affect the baby. “She looks like noona.” 
“She does.” he admitted, the tiniest worn out smile. “And she likes me just about as much as her mother does too.” 
“It’ll be better when you both get some rest. Why don’t you get some sleep, hyung? I’ll take care of Nara, and I’ll wake you up if there’s any news about noona.” 
He shook his head. “No. I want to be here if there’s any news.” 
“You need rest, hyung.” 
“I can’t…” he whispered brokenly, resting his head in his hands. “I can’t when she’s in there… when I don’t….” he took in a deep shaky breath. “I can’t think without her. I can’t breathe. I can’t even get our daughter to stop crying.” 
“She’ll be alright. Noona is strong.” 
“There was so much blood.” 
“Jin and the other doctors are with her.” Jungkook was going to continue, but Nara let out a mighty wail startling both of them, and he was quick to shove the newborn back into her father’s arms in panic. “Your kid, hyung.” 
Namjoon was no less panicky than Jungkook, but he didn’t have the luxury of pawning off the newborn on someone else when she started crying. She was his child, and he was going to have to learn how to soothe her, especially if her mother didn’t pull through. 
“It’s okay.” he mumbled awkwardly, bouncing her in his arms. “You’re okay.” he knew she had to be tired. She was so small, and she’d barely slept at all between all the crying and the different people coming to sit with them. 
Jungkook plopped down beside him, smiling bashfully. “She’s really loud.” 
“She is.” 
At that moment though, Nara did something that made his frantic thoughts pause. She reached out with one little hand and grasped onto his finger as tightly as she could and her cries settled into whimpers as he pulled her a little tighter against him. 
“It’s going to be okay.” he told her. “Appa’s here. I’ll look after you.” he promised as she looked up at him still all teary and red, but she was settling, the first time she had settled in his arms since she’d been born. 
“See!” Jungkook beamed. “She likes you.” 
And hopefully she did. If not, she was going to make him go grey much quicker than planned. 
“Joon?” Jin called, stepping out of the room, and Namjoon’s stomach dropped seeing the amount of blood on the scrubs he wore. 
“Is she…?” 
Jin gave him a tired smile. “She’s okay for now. She’s lost a lot of blood though.” 
Namjoon stood up, already making his way to the door, but Jin stopped him. “She’s sleeping now. She’s going to need a lot of rest, and she’s getting a blood transfusion. You need to be gentle with her for a while.” Jin ordered sternly. 
“I’ll give her whatever she wants so long as she’s okay.” 
Jin nodded. “You should go sit with her, for a little bit, but you both need rest.” Namjoon nodded, only half paying attention to him now that he was allowed to see Y/N. “Don’t you dare wake her up, Namjoon!” 
But the man didn’t hear a word of the warning as his eyes zeroed in on his wife. She looked far too pale and sickly and small all tucked up in bed, but she was alright. She was alive.
part 16
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Text
COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 3]
A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.
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|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
Hopper pulls up to the library, thankful to get a spot up front. He steps out of the vehicle and makes his way inside, Powell behind him.
Hopper takes off his hat as he enters the building, making sure to send a big smile to the librarian.
"Hey, Marissa. How you doin'?"
The disapproving look on Marissa's face never left as she spoke.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here."
"What?"
"You could have at least called, said, 'Marissa! Hey, it's not gonna work out. Sorry, I wasted your time. I'm a dick.'"
Powell was unsure of what to do; he looked from Marissa to Hopper, waiting.
Hopper only stares ahead for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, with a subtle smirk, he mutters,
"Yep."
She looks to him, shaking her head expectantly. He seemed at a loss for words again as he shook his head.
"I'm sorry. Uh... Maybe we could go out again next week?" He offers, hoping for the best. She slowly turns her head to Powell and gives him a 'is he for real?' look. In turn, Powell slowly looks over to Hopper awkwardly. Hopper, already knowing he chose his words poorly, visibly cringed, and was eager to change the subject.
"Newspapers? You guys got newspapers around here?"
Marissa had shown them over to the filing cabinet and started pulling out drawers, naming the selections.
"We have the New York Times, the Post, all the big ones. Organized by year and topic. You can find the corresponding microfiche in the reading room." She briefly gestures behind her.
"Okay, we're looking for anything on the Hawkins National Laboratory."
"Well, shouldn't you be looking for that missing kid?"
"Yeah." He states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We are."
She nods her head, suspicious.
"Uh, so, why don't you start with the Times, and we'll check out the Post."
Marissa scoffs and looks behind her to Powell, unsure if he's serious. She turns back to Hopper and lets out a soft 'hmph!' before strutting away. Powell steps forward and lowers his voice in a questioning tone.
"The librarian?"
Hopper shrugs wildly before diving into the drawers of files.
The two men had gathered a handful of files and set to work in the other room. Each at their own microfiche, reading every column.
Hopper scanned another column that caught his attention.
'ALLEGED EXPERIMENTS, ABUSE' by T. Bridges.
"Terry Ives' legal case against embattled research scientist Dr. Martin Brenner suffered another setback today when the district attorney's office formally refused to press criminal charges against Brenner, his fellow researchers, assistants, or the project's sponsors, citing lack of evidence. Local law enforcement executed a search..."
Next column.
'MKULTRA EXPOSED' by T. Bridges
"The trust of the American people has been shaken to its core as a special inquiry into a covert CIA operation, code-named MK ULTRA, has exposed the extensive details about that which has been haunting the nation for the past decade. Six subjects have come forward..."
This particular column was accompanied by a negative of seven people. Five of which were slightly disheveled, in hospital gowns. A man in a turtleneck and blazer stood obediently in the back. A man in a fancy suit and tie, holding a clipboard stood front and center. A man with whom Hopper guessed to be Brenner.
Next slide.
'DR. MARTIN BRENNER NAMED IN LAWSUIT' by A. Ward - Staff Writer
"Senior researcher Doctor Martin Brenner and seven other staff researchers have been named in a new lawsuit filed today on behalf of former federal research study participant, Terry Ives. Dr. Brenner's attorney in conjunction with the Department of Energy has asked the circuit court to seal the details of the lawsuit until the attorney general's office can determine that no federal..."
Hopper found himself more engrossed and confused as he read.
"...her newborn daughter for scientific research. Following an investigation, the district attorney has already declined to press criminal kidnapping charges against the research facility and staff, citing lack of evidence. Dr. Brenner's attorney called Ms. Ives' allegations baseless and tragic, citing Dr. Brenner's excellent reputation, his twenty recent peer-reviewed scientific papers..."
The next slide was a short column with another accompanying photo. Although the picture was small and blurry, it wasn't hard to see the grief-stricken features on the young woman.
TERRY IVES SUING - 'They took my daughter' by Benjamin Buck
"After the district attorney's office declined to press criminal charges citing lack of evidence, local resident Terry Ives is not giving up her search for justice for herself and her daughter, and this morning filed a lawsuit against research scientist Dr. Martin Brenner and his staff.
Ms. Ives' suit seeks unspecified damages against Dr. Brenner and his facility, alleging physical abuse, sleep deprivation, malnourishment, and multiple allegations of kidnapping; both attempted and successful..."
Hopper sighed, trying his best to swallow all of this new information.
'What the hell has been happening in this damn town?'
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Three. One. Five. The numbers on the strange new bracelet read three one five.
Thankfully, El was able to find her way back outside by the large telephone pole where Mike told her to meet them. But El was still nervous. She just hoped no one had spotted her.
El couldn't find it in her ability to stay still. She couldn't stop pacing and she was subconsciously shaking out her hands, her nerves shot.
'What if someone saw her?'
She eagerly checked the bracelet, muttering aloud to herself.
"Three-one-five. Three-one-five. Three-one-five..." her voice turned soft as her confidence wavered. The only thing that was able to take her attention away from the bracelet was the familiar sound of meowing next to her.
Shocked, she looked over to see a scrawny orange cat staring at her from the other side of the fence. It began to meow again and panic and guilt crashed over her as once again another terrible memory resurfaced.
- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -
The white cat in the cage before Eleven let out a terrible hiss at her. Her head began to shake as she strained her ability. The combination of the cat growling and hissing and the frantic beeping of the machines was enough to push her even further.
She didn't want to. She never wanted to hurt this poor creature. But she knew that if she didn't, she would have to face the consequences. She would have to go back there. The cat gave out another deep growl and Eleven tried to the best of her ability not to cry. Not to break.
The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa. She gave one final look at the cat before yanking the wires off her head in defeat.
No. She couldn't.
She wouldn't.
She looked at Papa defeated. She shook her head in defiance, though her sobbing gave away her true feelings. He only stared at her in disapproval.
"No! No!" She struggled and kicked. She fought back with all her might while Papa stood at the end of the hallway. Doing nothing.
"Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa!" She screamed her throat raw as the men dragged her away, yet as always Papa only watched it happen.
"No!" Her shrieks grew more violent as she neared the room.
She couldn't go back in there.
She couldn't.
The men tossed her inside and began closing the door.
She wouldn't.
Eleven stood to her feet and before they could close the steel door, she threw it open in a fit of rage, her attention quickly shifting to one of the men doing this her. In the very next instant, his back was thrown into the ceramic just behind him. His limp body slipped to the floor, leaving a large hole in the tile.
The second man spared a second to look before turning to her to try and restrain her.
Before he could even step foot in the room, he was dead on the floor, his neck snapped. All with the flick of her head.
Overwhelmed with exhaustion, she collapsed against the wall, her nose and ears bleeding.
Papa appeared. He took one look at the cracked wall, to the collapsed man, and then at Eleven. Yet she couldn't move. She was completely drained, all she could do was stare at him. He slowly stepped towards her, staring at her.
She looked up at him in fear of what would happen next, and what did was not something she could have anticipated. He slowly reached his hands out, cupping her face. Sobs wracked her body, and he stared at her in awe.
"Incredible."
He reached down, hooking an arm under her legs, th arried her like an infant. He carried her out of the room and down the hallway, staring at her sobbing form as if he hadn't been the one to cause it.
- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -
"El!"
El turned her head to see Mike, Y/n, Lucas and Dustin. They were walking their bikes across the muddy grass in her direction.
Mike looked to her concerned as he, as well as the others, turned their bikes around.
"You okay?"
Relieved to see her friends, she nodded her head.
Mike gave the seat of his bike a few pats.
"Hop on. We only have a few hours."
Hesitantly, she walked forward. But she complied nonetheless and got on Mike's bike, and the five of them peddled off.
|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
The five us were walking our bikes through the woods. Dustin and Lucas were in the back, while Mike and El were just a few steps in front of me. El was looking around as she walked and suddenly I felt her eyes on me. I suddenly became very self-conscious of my cut.
I got it to stop bleeding eventually, but I don't know how I will ever explain this to Mom. She worries so easily. And, I don't think I have ever had a cut this big but I'll survive. My thoughts are cut short when I become very aware of the fact that El had fallen back next to me and was now looking at me with concern.
"Why did they hurt you?" Her voice came out very soft but was laced with concern.
"Huh?" I asked surprised.
El extended her arm out and pointed to my chin. I looked down, upset with how things went today.
"Oh, that. I uh, well... I was tripped. By this mouth breather, Troy."
Her face scrunched up in confusion.
"'Mouth breather?'"
"Yeah. You know, a dumb person,"
I suddenly grew quiet, and El noticed.
"Y/n, are you okay?"
I paused. "Yeah. Yeah, it'll be ok." I said.
I knew what she meant but I didn't think it was noteworthy to bring up how I was feeling.
"Y/n." I turn to look at her and she is giving me a knowing look. "Friends tell the truth."
I began to fight tears that were stinging my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall.
"I just... I just miss him. Will, I mean. And the things Troy was saying..." I began feeling myself get worked up again at the mere thought of it. "They were awful. Truly awful, and I just... I'm tired. And worried. And I just want to find my friend."
There was suddenly a somber silence over the group that was quickly broken by El's soothing tone.
"Y/n," she said sternly, pulling my eyes to her. There was a soft demand behind her eyes, willing my gaurd down. "I understand."
I looked at her, a grateful smile on my features and my voice came out in a weak whisper.
"Thank you, El."
She gave me a warm smile in return. It very much resembled the one I gave her the first night we met. It was at this moment I knew. I had just found myself a very unique and powerful friendship; one that stood out from my friendship with the party.
El and I have a lot more in common than I thought.
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authenticmiya · 3 years
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Nobody’s Fault - Johnny Lawrence x Reader
Summary - Part three to Lose My Job. After a traumatising month of slow recovery, reader is finally discharged from the hospital. However, the drama doesn’t just stop not that’s she’s on the mend. (Part 1 here) (Part 2 here)
Words - 1.4k
Warnings - fluff/angst
A/N - Would you guys wanna see a part four to this? Don’t hesitate to request and message me! Thankyou for your support!
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"Good evening Miss Y/L/N, we're local police officers who are working together about the case at the school." One of them said to you. 
"We understand right now probably isn't the best of times to have this conversation with you, but in order for this whole investigation to move forward, we need to confirm something." The other one said. 
"And what exactly would that be?" You questioned. 
"Considering you were pushed off of the balcony-" They began and you were very quick to stop them from talking.
"I don't know what kind of police officers you are but if I was purposely pushed off of that damn balcony, don't you think you would've sent the kids to Juvie by now?" The officers looked at each-other with defeated faces. 
"That's what were here for Miss. It is your decision to send the two responsible for you injuries, to Juvie." You couldn't quite believe what you were hearing. 
"I'm not pressing charges and the kid's aren't going anywhere. I chose to get involved, I tried to handle it and it didn't work, that's nobody's fault." You told them.
"Thank-you for your time, it looks like you two are off the hook for now. I can't say the same about those Karate Dojo's that are in competition with each-other." They told Miguel and Robby before they left. 
"Now let me see my students, well try and see." You joked. 
It had now been a total of a month in the hospital, and you'd now found yourself without a brace and able to sit up. 
"I'm sorry Y/N." Johnny apologized suddenly. You looked over at him confused. 
"What are you apologizing for?" 
"That argument we had before all of this happened. If I had just said things differently, maybe you wouldn't have ended up in this place." Johnny sighed and you reached over to grab his hand. 
"I pray you haven't been blaming that stupid bicker for everything that's happened. It's done with. I'm sorry to, I ruined the walls when I threw your beer." You chuckled.
"Don't worry, your handyman eventually got around to fixing it." He smirked and you rolled your eyes. 
"What's going on in that head of yours Johnny? What happened to every hour being spent in the Dojo?" Johnny let out a sigh, knowing he was probably going to get an earful. 
"I gave up Cobra Kai Y/N, Kreese took over." If it was possible for eyes to naturally fall out of your eyes, they would've been on the floor by now. 
"You did what?" You gasped. 
"You're getting discharged today, I will spare you the details until we are home." Johnny told you. 
"No we won't sweet-heart, what the hell has he done to you now?" You pushed the conversation. 
"If I told you he was the the main reason that the school fight happened, would that be enough questioning me until later?" He asked you. 
"That slimy asshole just couldn't leave you alone, could he? After everything he'd done to you back in high-school, I ought to smack the shit out of him." You snapped. Johnny couldn't hide the smile that came to his face. Nobody he'd ever been with, had cared about him as much as you did.
"We'll save that for another time." Johnny chuckled, even-though it hurt him to think of the bad memories he had with his old sensei. 
As the time went by, the doctors had finally given you the all clear to return home. That was of course before they had told you, you had to be in a wheel-chair, as well as have crutches to help with walking again. 
"I feel like I haven't been home in a lifetime." You admitted to Johnny as he wheeled you in the direction of your apartment. 
"Well I'm glad I can finally have you back." Johnny opened the front door and there was a huge Welcome Home sign in the living room.
"You are the best, didn't really think you were into doing cute things." You sassed and he bent down, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 
"Don't go ruining my badass reputation babe. Welcome home." He kissed your cheek, making you smile. 
"I've got to say, it's not as messy as what I was expecting." You joked and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. 
"Only the best for you." He chuckled. 
"Welcome home Y/N." Robby suddenly appeared, exiting from the bathroom door. 
"How long was he in there?" You looked at Johnny with concerned eyes. 
"Probably the best part of half an hour." Johnny admitted, making you and Robby laugh. 
"It's good to see you here Robby." He reached down and hugged you, but that still didn't stop the look of confusion on your face. 
"Do you not want me here? Is it too much for someone who has just come out of the hospital?" Robby panicked. 
"Be quiet Rob, I'm just really happy that you're here. What exactly have you two been planning huh?" They both smiled at each-other, and your heart literally exploded. 
"When you were first in the hospital, I took everything out on him. You told Robby that you wanted us to get a long, so we tried. But, it took us some time to realise, that we shouldn't just be doing this because it would make you feel happy, but we should be doing this for our own good." Johnny told you, and you felt the urge to cry. 
"There's no way Johnny fucking Lawrence just openly said that to me." You couldn't even hide how stoked you were. 
"Why are you so shocked about me being the good guy in situations?" Johnny teased. 
"Maybe this is what we needed all a long. That doesn't mean you never have to speak to your mom again okay Robby? I get she made a load of mistakes however, she's still your mom, and I know her and I haven't had the best of relationships, but I guess I'm willing to work on that as well." This was for sure going to be a family moment you were never going to forget. 
The three of you eventually ordered take-out, spending a peaceful evening together for once. 
"So Robby, tell me, what teacher has replaced me for the time being?" You asked, sipping on an ice-cold Coors Banquet. Robby frowned and Johnny let out a sigh. 
"Y/N, they might have permanently given your job over." Johnny told you and you nearly choked on your drink. 
"Well they might also see me in the reception area tomorrow morning, demanding an explanation."  The annoyance in your voice was obvious. 
"They said something about you not being able to come in for a long time while you recover and that by the time you could've come back, we would have nearly finished school for the year." Robby told you, but he should've known all to well that you weren't giving up that easily. 
"I know it's been a month, but I'm not giving up on my kids that easily." You told him. 
"I think you should take it easy Y/N." Johnny put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 
"I swore I'd never give up on them. I didn't train for all of these years, to be in the position that I am in now, to just lose it over one school fight. Not happening." Robby smiled at you. He was so appreciative and grateful that his dad had actually found someone who was determined. Someone who made the right life choices, but clarified when they had made a mistake. 
"It's Linda." Robby told you and your mouth fell agape as Johnny laughed. 
"She has no qualifications in teaching, she's the receptionist." You groaned, and both Robby and Johnny knew, there was no way you were giving up that easily. 
The night slowly drew to a close, and Robby was reassured that he could stay in the guest room.
"I have missed this bed so much." You grinned as Johnny gracefully lifted you onto it. 
"It's been awfully cold without you." Johnny got in beside you and draped an arm over your waist. Placing a long awaited kiss to your lips, you finally felt like you were home. 
"I'm going to do everything I can to get you walking again." He thought, looking at how you still stayed beautiful, even after all of the trauma. He promised he was going to help you, and that's exactly what he was going to do.
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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years
Text
Fade
CW: Stab wound, descriptions of wound-packing and stitches, brief reference to child abuse, blood, passing out, talk of going into shock
Follow-up to Jake Being Stabbed
Everything smells like blood.
The smell of it is thick and sticks to the inside of his nose, coats his tongue with the memory of copper-salt-sweet, like when he lost a tooth as a kid by pulling it out, too impatient to wait. Every breath comes with an answering flush of agony radiating from the blurry handle he can see sticking out of his shoulder, he feels sick with pain down to his fingertips, out through his chest.
His heart beats in hammers, working too hard to keep pushing blood that doesn’t want to stay inside him.
His eyes are on the ceiling fan spinning lazily above his head. He needs to change those light bulbs, he thinks. Soon.
“Ne dvigaytes', Misha,” Antoni says, leaning over him, shaggy hair over distant dark brown eyes. Whatever Antoni sees, it’s far, far away from him. But his fingers move quickly, don’t press too hard. “Eto budet bol'no.”
Bol’no. Jake knows that one.
“H-hurt,” He repeats, eyebrows furrowing a little. The ceiling fan is starting to make him feel dizzy.
Or maybe that’s the blood loss.
“Hurt... p-painfully.”
“Da,” Antoni murmurs, emotionless, flat as the side of the knife, and Jake turns his head a little - oh, the world spins when he does that - and sees Antoni’s long fingers closing around the handle of the knife.
“Shit,” Jake whispers, realizing a half-second too late - or early, it doesn’t fucking matter, does it? - what Antoni is about to do. “Wait, Ant, don’t-”
“Nyet doktora, nyet bol’nitsy,” Antoni whispers. “Tol'ko brat'ya.”
“Oh, fuck, no.” Jake allows himself the whimper that escapes without his consent, he tells himself he allows it. His uninjured arm tenses as he closes his hand into a fist, closes his eyes, tries to shut out his knowledge. “Antoni, it’s gonna-... I’ll fucking b-bleed out-”
“Nyet,” Antoni mutters. “Etot byl slishkom napugan chtoby ubit' tebya, ya dumayu.” He pauses, and Jake cracks an eyelid to see Antoni holding out a cooking spoon, the handle horizontal in front of his face. “Bite down,” Antoni says in English, his accent heavier than Jake has ever heard.
But... he thinks... Chris has probably heard him speak like this.
He opens his mouth, obedient and terrified, and the wooden tastes odd against his tongue as he closes his teeth around it. 
“This will hurt,” Antoni says, and picks up the towel again, hovering it over the knife he is gripped tightly onto. “Very much. Bite down.”
He pulls the knife out of Jake’s shoulder in one smooth motion.
Jake’s back arches off the floor, his head jammed back against the tile, as he screams around the spoon, veins standing out in his throat. Antoni jams the towel against the wound in nearly the same second the knife exits and the sharp pain of the blade is replaced by the overwhelming throb of cloth being forced not on but in to the bloodied gash.
Jake keeps screaming, eyes wide open now, vision white and gray and sparking every color there is and several he’s pretty sure he can’t usually see, as Antoni packs the wound with careful, precise, efficient speed.
“At first I think it go through,” Antoni says, almost idly, as if this is nothing more than the average Saturday night for him. “But I see now is blood from front pooling on floor. A good sign. Tonight we fail. What if you leave fingerprints, hm? What then?”
Jake’s screams taper off into grunts, forcing air through his nose, his hand in a fist beating ineffectually against the floor just to have something to do. He’s going to black out. He’s going to black out. He’s going to-
“Yeshche raz, Misha.”
Antoni pushes the cloth viciously further into the wound and Jake’s world goes dark.
-
He swims up from darkness to pain he can’t understand, that his mind simply sets aside and refuses to acknowledge. His shoulder burns like it’s being slowly torn off of his body and he whines, eyes still closed, afraid of the light that turns the backs of his eyelids red. 
It was bound to happen eventually. 
He’d gotten worse and worse.
They didn’t leave in time.
They can go now, though. Right? This will be enough, right? He shudders as his arm is jostled a little, tears running from the corners of his eyes to soak into the short hair by his ears, run further, drip to mix with the blood on the floor below.
This has to be enough to be worth leaving for good this time, right?
“Mom-... fuck, Mom, y-you okay? Shit, shit, h-hurts, Mom, we gotta go, we gotta go-... he’s gonna kill you-”
“Sssshhhh,” She whispers, running her fingers through his hair. Her voice is deeper, but he knows who it is, then. Where he is. When he is. “It’s okay, Jake. I’ve got you. Dr. Masood is here. It’s okay.”
Jake’s eyes open and her brown hair swings around, in waves, she must’ve taken her braid out before someone called her. Nat smiles down at him, concern written in the way her eyes travel over his face, in the tightness of her jaw and the way the lines of her face stand out more than ever, etched in stone. 
“Nat-... h-he didn’t do it on p-purpose, he thought-”
“I know,” Nat says, softly. There’s a spike of pain and Jake turns his head to see the flash of light off a thin needle and unmistakable stiff black thread. He stares at it, barely able to comprehend what’s happening.
Dr. Masood doesn’t look at him. He is far to focused on stitching closed Jake’s shoulder. His own lips are a thin line, and there is nothing but determination in his dark eyes, in the swift motions of his hands, expert, unshaking. 
“Chris told me,” Nat says, running fingers through his hair again, reaching to gently turn his eyes back to her. “That, um, he said his name is Jameson... thought you were someone else. I don’t care about that right now. Just look at me, Jake. You’re not going to bleed out, I don’t think, but you sure gave us a fright.”
“All... all in a day’s work,” Jake says hoarsely, and Nat smiles for him, shaking her head slightly. He blinks a few times - the sharp pain of the stitches is... less present, somehow. Less insistent. He feels a little distant from it, drifting somewhere just beside his own body, not really inside it.
That’s probably not good.
“Where-... where’s... Chris, Ant, everybody-...” He trails off, unable to find the energy to keep asking.
“Chris is in your room with Kauri,” Nat answers, reaching over to take his good hand, right hand, his uninjured arm, closing her fingers around his. He can barely feel her grip. “Ant... I don’t know. I think in the bathroom upstairs. Everyone else is in their rooms.”
“Kauri.” Jake tries to move, and then groans and collapses back to the floor again. “Kauri, shit, he must’ve come back and seen-”
“Kauri called me,” Nat says quietly, evenly. Her voice is careful, not exactly emotionless but not shaking, either. There’s nothing but warmth and certainty there, and Jake lets himself rest in it. “He wasn’t making much sense, and I got here as fast as I could. Chris filled me in once I did. He was-... having some trouble, but he got the words out. Dr. Masood is going to get you sewn up and stabilized.”
“Antoni did excellent work packing the wound,” The doctor is murmuring to himself. “Quality work. Fresh clean cloth, not sterile but better than anything else in your average household... this is shockingly clean for a stab wound, the assailant missed major... everything, really, what absolute good fortune-”
“Dr. Masood?” Nat raises her eyes, and the doctor pauses in his meticulous work to look at her. “His fingers are cold.”
“Numb,” Jake corrects her in a mumble.
“What?” Dr. Masood’s eyes move to Jake, now, but there is no change in his expression of focused scrutiny. 
“M’fingers... numb. Can’t really feel Nat’s hand.”
“Hm.” Dr. Masood goes back to work. Jake thinks he’s working more quickly now. “Natalie, what is Jakob’s blood type?”
“Uh...”
“O positive,” Jake manages. He remembers having to know this for the hospital as a kid. “’M O positive.”
“Lucky you,” Dr. Masood says quietly, and then sits back on his heels, looking up at Nat. Looking at him to jake feels like looking through a campfire, everything wavy and woozy and strange. He feels drunk, and cold. And like he’s looking at himself from across the room. 
He tries to waggle his fingers in a wave. Hey, me.
Dr. Masood is frowning now. “Go to my car and bring in the cooler you find there. It’s not too large, it shouldn’t be hard to carry.”
Oh, the white around his eyes is back, pushing in on his vision, wiping it clean. White and gray and black and red.
What’s red and black and white all over-
“Fuck,” Jake whispers. “Chris is... gonna freak out.”
“Too late for that,” Nat says, matter-of-fact. “We can handle that later. Doctor Masood, why-”
“Jakob needs blood,” Dr. Masood says simply. “And I have been told there will be no visit to a hospital. I can provide some care here. Call your friend who does EMT work, they will be better at emergency stabilization than I am.”
“They might be busy-”
“Then tell them to stop being busy. Jakob Stanton needs blood.” Dr. Masood’s eyes are on Jake’s face again, and his lips thin even more. “I do believe he needs it right now.”
Jake stares back at the doctor’s wavy, shivering face until his vision fades to black.
-
@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @endless-whump
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thefallennightmare · 3 years
Text
Hard to Love [19/?]
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Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader
Words: 2748
Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.
Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.
A/N: I couldn’t leave you guys hanging all night! TBH, I’m not sure how much longer this series is going to go. I’ve got a few things in my brain but well see how long this lasts! As always, enjoy :) 
Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​
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Chris’ POV. 
A broken sigh fell from my lips as I sat on the back patio, Scott and my mom sitting at the table next to me. They had been here for the morale support, knowing that if I was still left alone, I would have gone insane. 
The bags under my eyes had darken, my facial hair had grown longer than I usually like; I hadn’t had the will to shave. My long hair was matted on my head, refusing to get off the couch to shower. I didn’t want to risk missing her phone call. 
“How long has it been?” Scott asked, his voice breaking the last ten minute silence. 
I looked at my watch and choked back a sob. “Almost 48 hours.” 
“They’ll find her, honey,” My mom rubbed my back. 
Running a hand over my face, I nodded. “I keep thinking that if we haven't fought that night, she would be home right now. I can’t believe those were my last words to her. What if that’s all she's going to remember if she di-.” 
I wasn’t able to finish my sentence, a loud sob replacing my words. 
“Chris, you can’t think like that. You have to think positive.” Scott stated. 
“How can I?!” I yelled while I stood to my feet, the chair scraping on the pavement.
“Her crazy ex husband has her! For all the cops know, he could have killed her the second he hit her with the bat!” 
My voice was deep and bellowed through my backyard. Thankfully it was only us outside so I didn't need to explain myself to anyone. 
The news of Y/N’s kidnapping unfortunately had been on every news channel local to Boston and Chad’s face was plastered all over social media, hoping any tips would pour in. My phone had non stop messages from family, friends, and fans. A lot of the fans thought it was a hoax since I hadn’t said one word about it. 
“Any tips come in online?” My mother asked. 
“Nothing, everyone thinks it’s a hoax,” I sighed. 
“Why don’t you say something?” Scott suggested. 
I looked at him skeptically. “I don’t know how that would help.” 
“You have a huge fanbase, Chris; especially around Boston. It doesn't hurt,” Scott said. 
Sucking on my bottom lip, I tossed the thought around in my head, back and forth back and forth, until I decided with a nod. Someone would be able to find something. 
I stepped away from them while pulling out my phone and clicked the live button on Instagram, taking a deep breath beforehand. The light had turned green, indicating I was live. 
“Hey everyone. I’m sure a lot of you heard the news about Y/N. First off, I want to say that it is true. She was abducted a few blocks from here almost 48 hours ago. The cops have evidence that her ex is behind it but they’re having trouble finding where he took her.” 
I ran a hand through my hair and continued. “We’ve been together for almost a year and she means the world to me; almost as much as Dodger. Hell, even more than Dodger. She’s everything to me, I need her back home. So if any of you have any information please pass it along to Boston PD. Or you can even send it to me but please, I beg you, serious leads only. I love her. Let’s bring Y/N home. Thank you guys, you are simply the best fans. I love you all.” 
The live ended and immediately I noticed the outpouring coming from everyone that had watched the live, letting me know that Y/N was in their prayers and that they would help bring her home. 
A few tears rolled off my cheeks and I let out a shaky breath, holding back the sobs. My mom snuck up behind me and wrapped herself around me, pulling into a much needed hug. 
My body crumbled in her embrace and the sobs became louder, burning our ears. I could help but grip my fingers into my moms back, even if she was shorter than I, but suddenly I was a little kid again. She always knew when I needed a hug or a shoulder to cry on. She knew exactly what I needed to get over heartbreak and she knew exactly when to back off when I needed space. 
Right now I needed her. 
After a few moments, I finally pulled away from her and thanked her with a kiss to the cheek. 
“Thanks mom,” I forced a smile to my face. 
“Of course,” she cupped my cheek, “I’m going to make you something to eat.” 
I went to protest but she immediately hushed me, saying that I looked like I hadn’t eaten in days. 
It was true. 
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“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay with you?” My mother asked.
Scott sat behind the wheel while I leaned against the window of the passenger side in front of my mom. They stayed for a few hours after dinner and when the clock struck seven, I knew that they should head back home to rest; they’d been by my side all day. 
 “I’ll be fine, I’ve got Dodger.” I nodded. 
“Chris,” she tsked. 
“Ma, I’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll call.” I reassured her. 
Her hand rested on my cheek and with sad eyes, she nodded. “She’ll come home.” 
“I know. What’s killing me is not knowing-.” 
“Chris?” 
Looking to my left, my shocked eyes watched in horror as the figure walked towards me. I scurried away from Scott’s car, closer to the figure. She looked broken, bare feet tore up with cuts, but what caused my lips to tremble was the blood that covered her dress. 
“Y/N?” My lips quivered. “Baby?” 
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Readers POV.
The soles of my heels burned with every step I took, closer and closer to my destination. The pavement scratched and cut my bare skin and I hissed in pain after every few steps. I wasn’t sure how long I had been walking but knew that I had a bit more to go. 
A soft breeze tangled around my legs, causing the cuts to sting and I let out another hiss of pain. I pulled the jacket closer around me, blocking out the view from anyone I had walked past, which thankfully wasn’t many. I was in a part of town that the scene of me, disheveled and cut all over was nothing new. I could feel all parts of my hair was matted and stuck to my face, the sweat and blood dried a long time ago. 
As the sun began to set, I knew I had to make it back before dark. This part of town was worse at night, but compared to what I had endured, that didn’t scare me. Nothing could scare me anymore. 
Time passed slowly as the streets started to become familiar and as my tired feet turned the corner, the familiar three story home that had all those windows slowly came into view. The closer I got, the bigger the windows looked. My heart leaped into my chest when I saw him leaning against a car, talking with someone I couldn’t see. It didn’t matter, however, all that mattered what that I had made it back; back home to him. 
“Chris?” My voice was raw and broken, barley coming past my lips. 
He pushed himself off the car, taking large strides towards me. His hand outstretched and shook, afraid that I wasn’t real. 
“Y/N? Baby?” 
Everything seemed to slow as I stood in front of him, broken and a mess, knowing that with the look in his eyes that he hadn’t slept since I left. 
“Is that...blood? Oh, god, please tell me it isn’t blood,” he cried, pulling me into his arms. 
I broke down in a sobbing mess in his chest, the hell from the past few days finally catching up to me. 
“It’s not mine,” I choked between sobs. 
“Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you,” Chris cooed, large hands rubbing circles on my back. 
His body shook with sobs, happy that I had found my way home and sad from everything that happened to me. 
“We should get you to a hospital, baby.” Chris cupped my face. 
I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine but I couldn’t force myself to close the distance; thankfully Chris understood. 
“I’m fine,” I tried to fight. 
“You’re not fine, Y/N. Please, let me take you to the hospital.” Chris begged with sad eyes. 
Eventually I nodded. I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I knew the cops would get called which meant I had to tell them what happened; something I wasn’t ready to tell. 
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Silence was all we heard, threatening to pull us in deeper, as we waited for the doctor to return with the officer; they wanted to go over everything with them in the room. I agreed.  
Chris had his eyes trained hard on the floor, his body unreadable. 
“Chris?” My voice was quiet. 
He slowly looked up. “Do you need something?” 
I nodded and patted the spot next to me on the hospital bed. “Can you sit with me? I really need you right now.” 
In a flash he was up from the chair in the corner of the room and by my side, arm wrapped around my shoulder. He kissed my forehead and the warm gesture was enough to slowly heal my heart. 
“Ms. Y/L/N?” 
We both looked in the doorway and Chris greeted an officer and the doctor. 
“Baby, this is Officer Ramirez, she’s handing your case.” Chris informed me. 
The word sounded so wrong coming from his lips; your case. 
“Are you feeling alright?” The officer asked. 
I shrugged. “Better than I was earlier. The drugs helped ease the pain.” 
“Are you alright if I go over the results in front of him?” The doctor suddenly asked while nodding toward Chris. 
Linking our fingers together, I nodded. “He’s my boyfriend. He was with me for the tests, he’s staying for the results. 
It was the doctors turn to nod. “Alright. So you have two bruised ribs, a laceration to your neck, hip and hand which we all stitched up. Some bruising on your face, a black eye, and a few minor cuts on your face as well. You do have a slight concussion so do take it easy for the next week. The bottom of your feet are severely cut up and we pulled quite a few debris out of them so I recommend staying off your feet as well.” 
Chris stumbled over his words, trying to ask the one question that burned in his mind. Even though I reassured him countless times, he still needed to hear the doctor say it. 
“What about the rape kit?” He finally breathed out. 
“Negative. There was no sign of trauma and no foreign fluids. I don’t know how you survived, Ms. Y/L/N, but you are a fighter. I’ll leave you alone with Officer Ramirez.” 
After she left the room, I stole a glance at Chris who’s shoulders had eased up a bit, knowing that I wasn’t raped. I knew that it was on his mind the whole time I was gone and since I came back. 
“Are you up for giving your statement now?” Officer Ramirez asked. 
I nodded. “I need to.” 
Chris went to leave but I placed my hand on his thigh to stop him. “Please don’t leave me.” 
He nodded. “Okay, I’m right here.” 
Taking a deep breath, it came out shaky as I started telling them exactly what happened to me. 
“He had me in a run down motel room across town, I knew it was across town when I was able to escape. When he was getting ready to put on a condom,” I felt Chris’ body stiffen next to me, “I saw the knife he’d brought on the table next to the bed and I didn’t even think about it; I went for it.” 
“He was too fast and grabbed the knife before I was even off the bed. He used it on my, cutting up parts of my body. He didn’t care how loud I screamed or writhed in pain, he liked it.” 
“Uh, after he smacked my head against the wall for trying to escape, he handcuffed me to the bedpost so he could run out for something. I couldn’t hear what he said, my head was throbbing in pain. He was gone for quite awhile and I stayed locked to the bed the entire time. I remember feeling how warm and sticky my blood was as it dripped from my body.” 
I cried out, my hands shaking with the awful memories. 
Chris wrapped his arms around me to calm me down and looked at Officer Ramirez. “Can we finish this another time?” 
“No,” I shook my head while pulling away from his chest. “I have to tell them where his body is.” 
Chris’ head snapped over to me, his mouth falling agape. “Don’t say another word, Y/N. Not until I get you a lawyer.” 
“Damnit Chris, I don't want a lawyer! I did nothing wrong!,” I yelled. “That bastard, after he finally came back and unhandcuffed me, he passed out drunk in the bed next to me. I thought about running out but I knew that he would find me again. He felt me get out of bed and pulled me back down. We fought for the knife and he kept punching me in the head, smacking me against the wall. All I had was one second as he wiped my blood from his hand to reach for the knife, pushing it deep into his chest!” 
My cheeks were soaked with tears, replaying the memory of the knife going into Chad’s heart over and over again. How easily the knife slid into his chest and the sound it made hurt my ears. 
“I was so scared of what I had done that I sat in the corner of the room in the fetal position while his body went cold and ridged. I finally was able to will myself up and stole this dress from the laundry room of the hotel and walked all the way home.” 
Chris looked at me, completely helpless and broken, but knew that I needed him more than ever. While he had me in his arms, Chris looked over to the officer. 
“It’s clear what this is,” He stated. 
She nodded. “The defense attorney won’t be pressing any charges. We only needed to get her statement.” 
Chris and her chatted for a few more moments, her saying that she would be in touch, and it was finally Chris and I alone. 
“You alright?” He pulled my chin up to meet his eyes. 
“I was afraid I was going to die,” I admitted, “The only thing that kept me alive was thinking of you.” 
“You’re incredibly strong, Y/N.” Chris breathed in my hair, savoring my scent. 
Even though I was still covered in blood and sweat, not being able to shower until they collected evidence, I still smelled divine to him. 
We found ourselves laying in the hospital bed, my head on his chest, and I could feel his heart beating rapidly through his chest. 
“You can relax, I’m home now.” I reassured him. 
A stray tear fell from his eyes and I was quick to wipe it away. 
“I thought I lost you. I kept replaying our last words to each other in my head and blamed myself for what happened.” Chris admitted with a shaky breath. 
“No,” I cupped his cheek, “None of this is your fault; or mine. I’m sorry I ever compared you to him.” 
“Don’t apologize. I was being an asshole,” he stated. 
“I just want to move past this,” I sighed while laying my head back on his chest. 
Chris agreed with a kiss to my forehead. 
“I love you,” he muttered against it. 
My head shot up, looking into his eyes to see if he meant what he had just admitted. 
“What?” I asked. 
“I love you,” he said again, not missing a beat. 
Getting through the last 48 hours of hell had been worth it because not only had I survived, I made it back home to the man that loved me and who I loved. 
“I love you too,” I pressed my lips to his, feeling the familiar taste encase my tongue. 
There was a long road to recovery in front of me but I knew that it would be an easy one to walk; with Chris by my side.
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bi-bard · 3 years
Text
Last Wish - Kelly Kline Imagine (Supernatural)
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Title: Last Wish
Pairing: Kelly Kline X Reader (platonic)
Requested: @hillie34
Word Count: 1,253 words
Warning(s): mentions of death
Summary: (Season 12) (Y/n) followed Cas and Kelly to their cabin on the lake. With their power, (Y/n) knew they could really help to protect the mom-to-be. However, there's one other gift (Y/n) can give to her.
Author's Note: HEY! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account and it's a whole script)
--------------------------------------
"Kelly," I said, walking into what was going to be Jack's nursery.
She was resting in the rocking chair I had built and put in the corner. I figured that Cas would get to use it when Jack was born.
I followed Cas and Kelly when she stole the impala. I was an old friend of the Winchester but I didn't stay in the bunker for personal reasons.
The three of us ended up at a cabin on the lake. It was lovely and calming. Cas and I had since committed to protecting Kelly. Her wish was to have this child and Cas thought it was a good idea, so I trusted him.
"I made you some tea," I offered her the mug. "I snagged some when Cas was buying that truckload of diapers."
"Thanks," she grinned, taking the mug from my hand.
"The nursery is gorgeous," I said, looking around at all the artwork on the wall.
I pulled up an extra chair that I left in there the other day and sat down next to Kelly.
"Yeah," Kelly looked down, clearly sad. "I'm sure you and Jack will be spending a lot of time in here."
I stammered. I still didn't know how to talk about Kelly's death. She was so kind that the idea made my stomach churn. I guess that happens when anyone thinks about death.
"I can't thank you and Castiel enough," she grinned. I grinned back. "I just... I just I wish could see him. See who he's going to be."
We fell into silence. Kelly calmly sipped her tea. I sat in thought. I was weighing my options. I wanted to give her this. It's the one thing I could actually do to help her.
"A few years ago," I started explaining, "There was an emergency. An angel was after the young versions of Sam and Dean's mom and dad. I was able to use my power to project myself into the past and protect them. It's a long shot, but I might be able to do that and send us to the future. We could try and see Jack."
Kelly looked at me in shock, "You could do that?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, forcing a chuckle. "But I could try."
"I'd like that," she nodded.
"Finish your tea then," I replied, smiling fully. "I'm gonna go grab Cas. He'll probably be able to help us if this goes wrong."
I came back a few minutes later, Cas in tow. He checked on Kelly, asking if she really wanted to try this. She nodded, saying that she wanted to know that Jack was okay.
"I'll be here to help however I can," Cas promised me. I nodded, sitting back down where I had been. He grabbed the now empty mug from Kelly.
"Are you ready," I asked her. She nodded. "Close your eyes."
I reached out, grabbing one of her hands and reaching to touch her stomach. I didn't know if there was a correct method for something like this. I was just following my instincts as best as I could. I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, we were in one of the rooms in the bunker. Curled in the bed was a young man with blonde hair. He had a laptop sitting next to him with Star Wars playing.
Kelly was standing next to me, eyes still shut.
"You can open your eyes now," I whispered. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at her surroundings. "We're in the bunker."
"Can he hear us," she asked, pointing at the man.
I nodded, remembering when I accidentally scared the crap out of a young John Winchester because I didn't think he could hear me.
I walked over slowly, kneeling by the bed, pausing the movie, and shaking his shoulder. He slowly blinked as he woke up before smiling at me.
"Hi (Y/n)," he said with a smile.
"Hi... Jack," I replied hesitantly. He just smiled wider before going to sit up. "There's someone here to see you."
I stood up and walked back a few steps, I held a hand out to Kelly. Jack recognized her immediately.
"Mom," he said softly. He had tears in his eyes.
"Hi Jack," she smiled, also on the verge of tears.
His shoulders shook slightly and she walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. I moved the laptop for them so they could hug and have a moment together. I plugged it into the charger and shut the lid. We gave him a desk. Nice.
Now, since Jack was in the form of an adult, I assumed he was an adult and it was about 20 years in the future. Then, I saw the year. 2018. Jack should be a year old. I decided to avoid that line of conversation.
"How are you here," Jack asked, finally pulling back from his hug with Kelly.
"(Y/n) brought me," she explained. "I wanted to see you."
She reached over and grabbed his hand.
"I watched the video you made me all the time," he mumbled. "I wondered what you'd be like."
I smiled at the two.
"(Y/n) has been protecting me and helping me with my powers," Jack added happily. "I'm gonna be a hero, like them."
"(Y/n) is a hero, huh," Kelly threw me a kind look over her shoulder.
Jack continued telling stories about all of us, especially Cas. He had really bonded with him. Eventually, he stopped talking, now looking kind of sad.
"I always think about you," he said softly. "I always want to know that I'm making you proud."
"Oh, I am," Kelly promised, touching the side of his face. "Jack, you are so kind and good. I am so proud of who you've grown to be. I love you so much, sweetheart. Never forget that,"
He nodded with a smile, eyes filled with tears again.
They hugged again. Kelly and I chuckled when Jack let out a yawn.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Kelly shook her head.
"Lay down," she mumbled. Jack listened to her and Kelly fixed the covers over his shoulders. She leaned down and kissed his temple. "I love you, Jack."
"I love you too," he replied.
In a matter of minutes, Jack had fallen asleep again.
I walked over, touching his forehead. Now, he would think it was a very nice dream instead of seeing his mother travel in time.
"Ready to go," I asked softly.
Kelly leaned over, kissing his forehead again, mumbling that he loved him again before standing up and nodding.
I grabbed her hand. We both closed our eyes.
We woke up in the nursery again. I stood up and Cas hugged me. I hugged him back.
"Are you both okay," he asked as he stepped back. I nodded but Kelly didn't respond. "Kelly?"
She stood up and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back and felt her shake as she cried.
"Thank you," she said through her tears. She moved back, touching my shoulder with one hand and her stomach with the other. "Thank you."
I was crying now too, "You're welcome."
I looked at her stomach, thinking about the life in there. He was going to look up to me and rely on me for help. I was going to be this kid's protector... his hero.
Dear God, please don't let me let this kid down, I thought as Kelly hugged me again. Please just let me make Kelly proud.
--------------------------------------
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drmmyrs · 3 years
Text
Remember Me (Becca x MC)
So, weird story. I was randomly browsing tumblr one time when this ask pops out at the top of the screen (req about amnesia au Becca’s POV). It wasn’t even related to anything I was reading but checked my inbox and it wasn’t there. Most probably the ask isn’t for me but still wrote it just in case 😅
PS if someone DID send me this ask, kindly drop me a message just so I know I’m not seeing things 😭
PPS I’m trying out a new writing style and I’m not sure if it’s any good so I’d really appreciate any feedback 🥺 (this will be a mini series too, I think, since the angst potential is definitely there 😂)
PPPS title is inspired from the song in Coco just cause I’ve been playing it a lot on piano recently
tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)
Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)
Word Count: 2090
I don't remember what happened, nor know where I am, but I hear shouting, lots of it. I try to move, but my body feels completely numb; the only thing I can feel is the trickle of liquid that splatters across my face. Rain? I open my eyes strenuously, but all I can see past my blurry vision are brown eyes glistening with tears. I can't quite make out her face, but for some reason, seeing her cry sends a flurry of emotions that hurt more than my throbbing head. I try to open my mouth, hoping to provide comfort somehow, but no words come out. She is saying something over and over again, something about leaving? But my head hurts too much to be able to comprehend. A siren then blares from a distance, growing louder by the second as flashes of red cloud my vision. And that is when everything turns black.
I slowly open my eyes–still reeling from the nightmare that somehow felt too real–and harsh, blinding lights immediately greet me. I hastily shut my eyes back and suddenly become well aware of the ache engulfing my entire body. It isn't before long that I realize that someone is holding my hand, tracing lazy circles against my skin ever so often. I try to move it but only manage to lift a finger, and at once, the grip tightens and becomes still for a moment before I hear a voice– How can a voice sound so familiar... yet so strange? It's saying my name, urgent and gentle at the same time as though I might break at any second. I try to open my eyes, but exhaustion grips me powerless. And soon, I succumb to its fiery grasp as I slip back into slumber.
When I wake up again, I already feel much stronger than before. The ache in my body has turned into a dull hum as if sharp nails are gently caressing my skin, enough to be felt but not to hurt. I look around the room, panic swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of different medical equipment looming around my bed and needles sticking out of my arm. I fight the urge to squirm as I take big, calming breaths, ignoring how the four white walls seem to close in on me. Thankfully, the door opens, and a nurse walks in, temporarily distracting me from my distress. She smiles upon seeing me awake and walks towards me.
"Welcome back, Ms. Davenport. How are you feeling?"
"W–where am I?" I ask weakly.
"In the hospital. A month ago, you were involved in a car crash, and your head was hurt pretty badly," the nurse says sympathetically. She is now taking my vitals, scribbling something on her chart from time to time.
Car crash?
I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember, but the harder I try, the more my head hurts.
"Wait. A month? Are you saying that I've been here... for a month?"
The nurse nods. "You've been unconscious the entire time. But your vitals now are looking good. The doctor will just run a few tests to make sure we don't miss anything."
I stay quiet for a while, my mind still processing everything the nurse just said, which has only raised new questions.
"Your friends and family were really worried about you, you know. There wasn't a day when you didn't have any visitors. Especially that special friend of yours you were in the car with." The nurse turns towards me, holding a pen against her chin. "What was her name? Em–Emma, I think? She barely left your side. She actually just went to grab some food before you woke up."
...I don't know any Emma, but I don't tell her that.
"What about my parents?"
"Your mom and sister usually visit during the evening."
"And my father?"
The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think I've ever seen your father."
The nurse leaves after a while, and the doctor comes inside the room shortly. I answer a few questions before I'm escorted outside to take some tests. Afterward, the nurse leads me back to my room and gently guides me to bed.
"Would you like me to call in your visitors?" the nurse asks.
I nod.
The nurse goes out, and soon my mom walks in followed by–
"Emily." I frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Both of them stop in their tracks. My mom looks at me in concern and confusion, while Emily looks like I just punched her in the gut.
Anger bubbles up inside me as a realization comes to mind. "Y–you. You're the one who did this, aren't you? You're the reason I'm here."
A guilty look flickers across her face, confirming my suspicions. And before I can stop myself, I shout at her to leave, but she stands there motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Go get the doctor," my mom tells her, which snaps her out of her shock. She scurries out of the room at the same time my mom starts walking towards me.
"Why is she here, Mom?"
My mom stops at the side of the bed and reaches out to stroke my hair. "Honey, the accident was not her fault."
"But she was there with me..."
"Yes."
"Why?"
My mom's hand goes still, resting on top of my head. "Becca, what was the last thing you remember?"
"I..." I close my eyes and think hard for a moment. "I–I remember hosting the Kappa party. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I leave with Emily?"
A brief look of panic flashes across her eyes.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
My mom smiles at me, but it looks forced. "It's nothing, sweetie. The doctor will be here soon."
But I can see that she's trying her best to keep calm–the look on her face similar to when she would talk to my little sister and me right after we would hear her and dad fight.
The doctor comes in a little while later, asking a bunch of questions similar to my mom's. They then do more tests on me, and I grow scared by the minute, not understanding what the hell is going on. Eventually, I'm back in my room alone, my mom and the doctor staying outside to talk. After some time, they enter the room, and my mom sits beside me, taking my hand as the doctor walks towards the other side of the bed.
I look at my mom, drained from all the medical tests I went through the entire day. "What's happening, Mom? I'm scared."
My mom squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. "The doctor will explain it to you, sweetie. But I'll be right here the whole time." She then gives a single nod to the doctor.
The doctor smiles at me politely. "How are you feeling, Becca?"
I stare at him, suddenly annoyed at being asked the same question over and over again.
"Right then." The doctor clears his throat. "During the accident, your brain was affected more than we initially thought." He pauses, and I meet his gaze, willing him to go straight to the point. "It seems like you have retrograde amnesia, meaning that you have no memory of the past three years of your life."
The doctor goes on and on about the technicalities, but I'm not listening anymore. His voice is reduced to background noise as I repeat his words inside my head, trying to grasp the implications of what he just said. I prop myself up, looking wildly around the room, tugging at my shirt as if it would help me breathe. But it doesn't. My body feels numb, which is why I almost don't notice my mom pulling me into a tight hug, stroking my back comfortingly as she whispers reassurances. I focus on her voice, forcing myself to take deep breaths as I slowly begin to calm down. I pull away after some time, recomposing myself as I find my voice.
"Three years," I whisper.
"We'll help you recover your memories, honey. But for now, you can ask me anything you like."
"I–I think I just need some rest."
My mom nods, helping me settle back in bed before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow.
Sleep comes easy to me, and I wake up the next day with Madison sitting at the chair next to my bed, browsing her phone.
"Hey, Maddie."
She looks up from her phone, a smile lighting up her face before she practically jumps out of her chair to hug me. "Becca!"
"Ow, that... kinda hurts."
When she pulls away from me, her eyes are teary.
"Sorry, I just missed you so much. You were gone for so long! I thought–"
"Hey, hey, none of that," I say, smiling at her.
She pulls the chair closer to my bed and sits down. "How are you, Becca? Your mom told me about your... condition."
I stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, it sucks." I snap my head back to her. "Tell me something. Do we still hang out a lot?"
"We still meet up from time to time. Not as much as we used to, though," Madison says, smiling sadly.
I nod. "Who do I usually hang out with now?"
"Emily."
I furrow my eyebrows. "Did we become close friends or something?"
"Oh, right. You've only been together for like two years," Madison murmurs contemplatively. "She's your girlfriend, Becca."
I let the information sink in. "You have got to be kidding me." I stare at her wide-eyed. "How–What–Why?"
Madison recounts our 'love story,' each detail more absurd than the last. I don't want to believe any of it, but Emily as my girlfriend... it actually explains everything. I rub my temples. How the hell did that happen? I remember like it was yesterday when she tried to steal Chris away from me. And now... and now...
"Maddie? Can you do me a favor and grab me something to eat? I'm starving."
Madison smiles. "Of course."
Madison goes out in a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
***
After a few more days of recovery, I am finally allowed to leave the hospital. Despite my protests, my mom explains that I will have to stay with Emily and her friends at what I assume has been my home for the past two years. She explains that she prefers for someone to look after me constantly, and she will not be able to do that with her job and all.
Outside the hospital, I find Emily waiting near a car; her eyes are bloodshot, as if she hasn't slept a wink in days. When she sees me approaching, her face immediately brightens up. Our gazes lock briefly before I turn back to my mom.
"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"
My mom smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish you could, but..."
"It's okay, I understand."
"Look, I know you don't remember, but these people you've been living with... they care about you very much.”
I nod.
My mom pulls me into a hug before guiding me inside the car, shutting the door afterward. She and Emily talk for a brief moment outside, and I watch as she hugs Emily before walking away. Emily steps into the passenger seat.
Zack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, turns around and smiles at me warmly. "I'm glad you're back."
I shift uncomfortably, ignoring his gaze. "Thanks."
We drive home silently, awkwardness saturating the car space. Upon arriving, I observe the details of the house, seeing if it sparks any memories... but nothing. I see Emily looking at me intently, probably thinking the same thing. They then lead me inside the house, and I step in hesitantly, taking in the surroundings, which vary immensely from the sorority house, the last place I lived based on my memories. Emily guides me to my room, lingering near me as I open the door.
"Becca–"
I turn towards her. "Please don't. I know you think I'm your girlfriend. A–and I guess I was. But as far as I remember, I don't like you at all. So I would appreciate it if you just leave me alone." I turn around and go inside my room, shutting the door behind me. I then lie on the bed, trying to forget how the light dimmed out of Emily's eyes as I broke her heart.
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re1d · 4 years
Text
dating spencer reid would include ... 
→ summary: cute stuff
→ warnings: none
→ word count: 3.2k
→ a/n: i felt like this would be a good starting point for this little writing blog! (fem!reader x spencer)
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ngl spencer’s got that dr. jekyll mr hyde dynamic going on ,, sometimes he’s rly flustered and nervous and other times he’s vehemently flirtatious and there’s nothing you can do abt it 
when you first met, he was super cautious and maybe even a little bit scared?? to be around you ,, BUT that quickly changed !
after a year and a half he’s learned to take it easy and not sweat the small things ,, or at least not as much as he used to
he calls it the y/n effect
SPENCER REID LOVES WHEN YOU KISS HIS FOREHEAD !
he just melts when your hands cup his face and he can feel the love coursing through your veins. he drinks it in like it’s water and he’s been in a desert for a thousand days. and then, you bring him down and place a gentle kiss smack in the middle of his forehead
it leaves him starstruck, completely and utterly in love
you especially like hearing him funnel fact after fact into your brain
you know that you’ll never remember all of them but the second you quote him to himself he just gushes about how much he appreciates you and how much he loves you ,, 
“oh, oh! spence! your present finally came!” your excited voice caught his attention as he looked back to see you struggling to carry a large cardboard box into the living room. he rushed to help you, but you shooed him away, telling him to go sit on the couch and that you’d bring it over to him. “close your eyes and open your hands,” your sentence had him grinning like a little kid. “now, i once remember a certain doctor told me that lucille ball was the savior of star trek and i have decided to honor her decision.”
“no way,” a kiddish giggle escaped his lips. he cracked an eye open, but wasn’t able to see anything because you frantically ran to place your own hands over his eyes. spencer huffed, tickling your hands with his eyelashes as he blinked repeatedly.
you squealed when his fingers met your sides, cringing away with laughter. “no peeking! it’s a surprise until i say so, spence!” he jutted his bottom lip out, surrendering and putting his palms up once more. as you placed the box in his waiting grasp, his eyes shot open. much to your shock, spencer took the box and put it on the couch next to him. looking at you with pure adoration in his gaze, he cupped your face and crashed his lips into yours.
“i love you,” he mumbled into the kiss.
“i love you more.”
spencer likes to take you to quiet places, like coffee shops and libraries, but there’s always the occasion when you two will go out with the team n have a couple dozen drinks get a little wildt
one time, a night ended with you both in morgan’s backseat, sleeping soundly on each other. when you two arrived back at your apartment garcia and morgan practically had to carry you guys up the stairs
you like to take him to public, populated places but do quiet things, like going to the park to play chess or going to the aquarium to visit the fish
he really likes to watch you do things
anything from cooking dinner late at night to getting dressed early in the morning, spencer’s eyes are on you
he likes to watch you do mundane things because it makes the horrors he sees on a daily basis a little less terrible, but ! it’s also just because he loves you vv much
spencer is super duper protective of you! when he finally gets a break from work, there’s nothing you can do that could shake him from your side. he’s stuck to you like Glue.
BUT! you know how much he loves his job, and he really appreciates how much you accommodate for his absences
he’s missed:
anniversaries
birthdays
holidays
it doesn’t really matter though because when he eventually shows up at home, there’s no better feeling. him being present at birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays was never as important as him coming home safe and sound
but, there’s always gonna be a time where he doesn’t come home safe
and you’re there for him then, too
sitting at his beside, you had a death grip on his hand as you slipped into intermittent sleep. a hand on your shoulder snapped you awake, as you stared directly into jj’s sympathetic eyes. “y/n,” she murmured, her voice tender, motherly even, “you need to get some real sleep. spence will be fine for the night.”
“jj,” you mumbled through sleep, “you know i can’t leave him.” she nodded, gently brushing pieces of hair from your face. her eyes widened as her gaze moved to spencer. soft fingers caressed your cheek; you turned to face the direction of your wounded boyfriend only to be met with a tired grin.
his eyes were silken, glazed over like two pieces of brown marble. they shone in the white light of the hospital room—just looking at them caused tears to collect in your ducts. you teetered on the edge of falling apart, the act of spencer waking up distracting you from jj slipping out of the room. 
“hey,” his hoarse whisper echoed in the small space, and you lost it. bursting into tears, you practically leaped onto him, sobbing into his chest. spencer’s hand traced patterns into your back as you cried; he truthfully was in a lot of pain, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. when you pulled away, his heart ached at the sight of your puffy, reddened face. tears blossomed in his own eyes, the impact of the situation finally hitting him like a ton of bricks. he could’ve died—he could’ve never seen you again. it made him sick to his stomach. “y/n,” he breathed, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorr—.”
you cut him off with a kiss, gripping his face while trying to pull him infinitely closer. “don’t apologize, spence. you have nothing to be sorry for.” your words made his eyelids flutter closed as he listened. “spence, just promise that you’ll keep coming back to me, okay?”
“i promise.”
when everyone is off, spencer rly rly enjoys seeing you interact with his team
it just makes him so genuinely happy when he gets to watch you joke around with emily and jj and penelope and every time you hug each member of his team goodbye and hello ,, he feels so much like a family 
ofc !! speaking of family—spencer’s mom!! she loves you and welcomed you into their little family instantly
what spencer appreciates the most was that when he finally told you abt his mother and her schizophrenia/alzheimers, you were completely understanding and were 100% there for both him and his mother
it was rly important to him that his mother liked you, and when he talked w her while you were in the bathroom probably freaking out and she said she really liked you, a Huge weight was lifted off his shoulder
and ! others that are rly important to spencer are his three godsons’ families
jj and will as well as morgan and savannah all love you very much and are happy to welcome you into their families
okay now ,, hear me out—embarrassing spencer at work is simultaneously one of his favorite and least favorite things so you make sure to do it often
spencer had told you that he’d be holed in at the office doing paperwork all day, and you knew for a fact that he wouldn’t remember to get himself any lunch. so, you took it upon yourself to order his favorite indian takeout and bring it to the building. the decadent smell filled your nose as you finally arrived and picked up the white bag.
walking in, you headed to the elevator and were surprised to see derek in the lobby, receiving a kiss from savannah before she passed you on the way to the exit. she gave you a fleeting smile and a touch on the arm while derek called out to you. “hey, pretty girl! what are you doin’ here?” his words made you smile, and when you finally reached him, you gestured to the food in your hands. “ah,” he nodded, “pretty boy forgot his lunch.”
“that, and i like to embarrass him—just a little,” you tacked the last part on with a chuckle as derek placed a brotherly hand on your shoulder. he pushed in the button and motioned for you to enter ahead of him. the ride up to the team’s floor was spent in comfortable silence. morgan played a game on his phone until the ding brought him out of his cellular trance. garcia spotted you the moment you stepped out of the elevator and she ran over, enveloping you in a hug warm enough to melt ice burgs. “hi, pen,” you giggled, giving her a kiss on the cheek, “i’m here to bring my oh-so-smart, oh-so-scatterbrained genius boy his lunch.”
penelope’s laughter echoed behind you as she followed you and derek through the glass doors. when you picked spencer’s form out of the bustling bullpen, your face lit up like a meteor shower. it was possible to see galaxies in your eyes whenever spencer was in your general vicinity. “oh!” you sighed dramatically, pulling almost everyone from their midday work haze, “there is the absolute love of my life, the person i never want to leave my side, my one and only—spencer reid!” guffawing and small snickers circulate around the work space—the day had apparently been so slow that hotch cracked a grin at your antics. but, you saw nothing besides the dusty pink that painted your boy wonder’s cheeks.
“you forgot your lunch again, reid?” emily’s voice sounds from across floor, “i’m starting to think you like y/n coming in here everyday.” the rosy pink of his face and neck seemed to morph into a dark shade of crimson. he reached out to take the food, but you pulled it away, tapping your cheek and signaling what the price of the food was. by now, most of the other agents had gone back to work. however, spencer’s team was thoroughly enjoying the blush he’s taken on. quickly, your boyfriend pecks your cheek and snatches the food from your hands.
“love you, spence,” you practically sang after placing a kiss on his forehead. he stuffed food into his face, mumbling a loud love you, too through the takeout.
nighttime always brings out soft spencer
i mean,, he’s always soft,, but nighttime just Hits Different you know??
at night, whenever spence is able to spend time with you at home—his hands are all over you
whether your cooking, cleaning, doing work, or just watching tv on the couch, you and him are inseparable.
he’s rly not one for a lot of pda outdoors and in public—obviously, he’ll hold your hand, gives you hugs, etc but when you two are behind closed doors he’s extra cuddly
spencer leaves kisses wherever he can reach, your neck, you stomach, your cheeks, until he makes it to your lips and places a sweet peck on them
BET SPENCER LOVES TO TAKE BATHS W YOU !!
most of the time, it’s not sexual. he just relishes in the feeling of the water enveloping the two of you in a soft hug. the smell of shampoo floods his nose as you sit behind him, gently massaging your fingers into his scalp. it always makes him feel brand new once you both finally step out.
spencer doesn’t try to hide himself from you. standing there with nothing but love in his eyes, he takes in all of you. peppered kisses tickle as he plants as many on you as he can before you get dressed in pajamas
he truly can’t stand being away from you for too long
it really does drain him having to be away from you for long periods of time—two weeks is the Max of what he can take, but sometimes, he’s away longer than that
and he just has to deal
sometimes ,, although it’s a RARE sometimes ,, you two fight, but he never ever leaves for a case or for anything rly without telling you that he loves you
it all started when he was late for yet another dinner. you knew how much he cared for the people that he worked with and the people that he saved, but this was the third time in a month that he missed a date. the waitress tried not to let pity seep through her gaze, but it was inevitable. your forlorn appearance made her slip you the check with a small smile, asking for your money in the politest way possible. silent rage boiled inside of you as you signed your name on a copy of your receipt. undoubtedly, you were going to annihilate him when he got home.
you entered your apartment, muttering all types of profanities under your breath. it wasn’t until you turned into your bedroom that you saw spencer—a bright smile on his face and a bouquet in his hands. “who are those for?” you spat, the acid of your voice making your boyfriend flinch away. spencer’s bottom lip jutted out slightly, his eyes searching, trying to figure out why you didn’t accept his flowery apology.
“they’re for you,” he mumbled, casting his gaze to the floor, “i’m sorry.” you huffed out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest. sorry didn’t feel like it meant much when it came up constantly. walking over to spencer, you wrapped your arms around him, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling it to the crook of your neck. you planted kisses along his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine.
“spencer. i waited. i waited for over an hour for you to show up,” you breathed next to his ear. spencer’s body deflated into yours and a sigh escaped his lips. he tugged you into his body, attempting to bring your natural warmth closer. he murmured over a thousand i’m sorry’s along the column of your neck, placing kisses whenever he needed to stop to catch his breath.
his phone vibrated against your stomach, and you feel the gentle flutter of his eyelashes against your bare skin as he leans his forehead into your shoulder, letting out a frustrated groan. garcia’s caller id mocked him as he stared reproachfully at his device. “hello,” he paused. “yeah. mhm. right now? garcia—we just got back?!” you heard her apologetic sound of garcia over the call, and you placed a small peck on spencer’s nose.
“y/n, love,” his voice was somewhat pained. he didn’t want to leave, “i-i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” it was rare that spencer ever used nicknames, but this one warmed you from the inside out. exhaling knowingly, you let go of him, accepting his latest apology with a tiny nod. reaching out once more, he drew you back into him, enveloping you in a tight hug and swaying from side to side. “you know i love you, right? i love you so much, and i’m sorry that i’m missing a lot of the time.” his words rumble comfortingly against your skin, a little bit like the sound of rain showers pouring on the roof.
“i know you do. i love you, too, and i’ll be here when you get back.” 
it’s not until he’s with his team that he knows
and by knows?? what do i mean?? I MEAN knowing you’re the one
the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with, the one he wants to cherish and hold and love forever, the one he wants to stay
a lot of people have come and gone in spencer’s life, but you always assure him that you’ll be there—no matter the trials or tribulations, you’ll stand by him—always
but n e ways ,, back to the team !
it’s a nice night out,, as opposed to getting only a bit wasted at bars ,, everyone, and i mean everyone was at rossi’s house, enjoying a nice italian dinner
you and spencer show up, looking stunning and not even the slightest overdressed ,, you’re wearing a simple purple evening gown to match his suit and tie
the both of you talk around, visiting savannah and morgan, jj and will, hotch, emily, rossi and krystall, penelope, tara, luke, matt and kristy
as per usual, spencer’s eyes are focused on you—so focused that he doesn’t even sense rossi and morgan’s looming presence behind him
derek clapped his hand onto your boy genius’ shoulder, but it wasn’t enough to tug him from his haze. spencer stared at you, laughing with penelope and emily, and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but. rossi looked from reid to you and there was suddenly a sparkle in his eyes. he could see it—the way reid’s hazel gaze shone in the dim, atmospheric dinner lights of his mansion—and, it was obvious. the love that radiated from spencer was undeniable.
“kid,” morgan’s voice finally broke him out of his reverie, “you’re in love. i can see it.” a blush crept up reid’s neck to eventually reach his cheeks, dusting his expression with a saccharine pink. he nodded slightly, ducking his head and scratching his neck. “ah, reid—i knew you loved her, but i didn’t know you loved her.” glancing back at him, you made eye contact and beamed—the teasing of his previous colleague falling completely from his mind.
“you’re right,” he muttered, turning to his friend, “you’re right.” his repetition was louder as he launched into action, walking over to you with strength in his step. morgan’s teasing seemed to be the liquid courage that he needed. tapping your shoulder, spencer brought you away from your conversation with the ladies of the bau and took you out onto rossi’s balconey.
quizzically, your eyes bored into his nervously buzzed frame. spencer gripped your hands, lifting them up to his lips while finally meeting your gaze. “spencer,” you narrowed you eyes, “what’s going on?” smiling against your knuckles, he pulled something velvet and square from his pocket at an agonizingly slow pace. mouthing gaping, opening and closing over and over again, you searched for the right words. the love of your life stooped to one knee and popped the question.
“all this time, i’d thought that love was complicated. but now, something made me realize that it isn’t. you made me realize that it isn’t. it’s simple. as simple as knowing that you’re the one i love, you’re the one i want ...” he choked on his words, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, “y/n ... you’re the one i want to come back to. always. so ...” spencer flicked open the small box, revealing a gorgeous diamond, “will you marry me?”
various whoops and cheers were heard from the inside as you rocketed yourself into your lover, nodding your head with millions of words spilling from your lips. 
it was simple.
it was love.
spencer loves you vv much and the feelings are reciprocated tenfold
you listen to his ramblings, you help him through his headaches, you comfort him after nightmares, you love him unconditionally.
you are his everything
he is yours
what more could he ask for?
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carnationcreation · 4 years
Note
Can you do a Jonathan Byers one-shot where the female reader is a Hawkins Lab experiment who has super speed and was known as Seven and escaped the lab with Eleven and they were adopted by Hopper and she started dating Jonathan and during the fight with the mind flayer she tires herself out and faints and he goes into cute concerned boyfriend mode?
TITLE: New Life (Jonathan Byers x Hopper!reader)
✌🏻Masterlist 
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Request: yes!
Prompt/summary: Reader is an escaped experiment from Hawkins lab, after being adopted by Hopper with her sister El they struggle to adjust to the outside world. 
Word Count: 1,155
Warnings:  none
Authors note: I was listening to Dumb by KOPPS and Branded by NateWantsToBattle, really sets the vibe of most of the scenes
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(Y/h/c) = Your hair color
(Y/f/b)= your favorite band
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 She knew the blood dripping off her feet would attract the hounds.
At this point it didn’t matter if she wanted to give up, she’d be dead either way. The hounds would tear her apart. If they were going to catch her they’ll have to keep up.
Her powers only worked if she had enough energy. After a full night of running, both super sonically and regularly, she was exhausted. The clothes she had escaped with were torn and she had bruises on her body from the times she fell over branches and rocks sticking out of the ground. She knew she would have to find food soon, but she didn’t have any idea of how to get it.
The growl in her stomach went away for just a little bit, then it came back with a painful vengeance. Her days at the lab consisted of being locked in her room or being put into the tank. What little she could remember about her life before was stripped away in a matter of months and the more she thought about it the more her head hurt and she came up empty. 
Her vision was going in and out. Her feet felt like lead and she knew she wouldn’t be able to run much longer.
Maybe, she thought, if I just lay down here. I’ll be dead before they find me.
It was an optimistic thought. What she didn’t expect was to feel someone gently picking her up. Her body sunk into him. She couldn’t have been more than 13 years old but she had a number lower than 11...
Hopper turned her wrist over and saw the tattoo on the girls small wrist. A tiny 07 was drawn there, surely she had to have been there before El.
By the time he had gotten back to the cabin El knew he had her and was bringing her home. 
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The next few months were terrifying for the girl. She couldn’t speak much, just like El when she was first found. After days of trying to feed her and get her to talk it wasn’t until El presented her own tattoo that the girl seemed to relax. The only time she would eat was when El was in the room, the only time she would sleep was when they were both in bed.
Her powers were a struggle. She had to learn she couldn’t use them around other people. And people. The girl had spent her entire life locked away, only seeing other humans if she was useful enough. So being introduced to knew people was terrifying. They soon found out she was probably around 16-17 when they took her in for a check up with a private doctor. Hopper pulled some strings so it was no questions asked, and an adoption paper was formed a few days later.
She found some comfort in Nancy, who took the girl under her wing buying her clothes and teaching her how to keep her hair in order. The (y/c/h) was finally starting to grow out from the horrible buzz cut she had when she was found. 
Then she met Jonathan.
At first he thought she hated him, because whenever he was around she would cling to the people she deemed safe. Nancy assured him she would warm up to him eventually, but there was still a voice in his head that said she wouldn’t. 
She grew close to Will after he gave her a drawing he had made for her. He carefully explained that it was her in the game that they play. He drew her as an Elf, one with the power of speed, he drew her with long wavy hair that was styled half up half down and a glorious crown on top of her head. She kept the drawing in her bedroom and looked at it before going to bed. Jonathan wouldn’t lie, he was jealous his brother bonded with her before he did. And besides, Will was a few years younger. But still he waited patiently to see how you would react to him.
Slowly you started warming up to him. After a while you started to look curiously at the camera he always carried with him.
”It’s a camera,” he said handing it to her, “Look, place your finger right there, and press it.”
the girl jumped as the flash went off. Jonathan grabbed the picture that popped out of the top of it and shook it a few times. The girl watched in wonder as the picture of Jonathan slowly appeared on the film. She pointed excitedly to it.
”Yes you did a good job!” he smiled. She couldn’t help but smile back.
As time went on Joyce invited the two girls over to their house more often. (Y/n), as Hopper had named her on the fake birth certificate, would wander in to Jonathan’s room to look at the pictures that were scattered on the walls. 
”Have you ever listened to music?” Jonathan asked her one day.
She shook her head and looked at the small cassette he had in his hands. He popped it into the radio and she stared with furrowed eyebrows at the machine. 
“Not much into rock huh? I guess we can find something you’ll like.”
Slowly, the two grew a friendship. Jonathan made it his personal mission to find out what kind of music (Y/n) would like best and also adjusting to her new life. They eventually landed on (y/f/b), and whenever he knew (Y/n) was coming over he’d have a tape ready for her to listen to. Will would join in occasionally on their music sessions.
They both soon learned how starved (Y/n) was of physical touch. Growing up as an experiment didn’t leave much room for hugs or gentle touches. She’d let Will lay in her lap whenever he wanted and hugs were always exchanged when they saw each other. The first time Jonathan tried to brush her hair out of her face with his hand he saw he flinch, his heart fell and thoughts of what might’ve happened to her to cause that raced through his mind. Soon enough he could reach for her hand without her pulling away. Soon enough she started reaching for his too.
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Jonathan did his best to keep the girl away from Star Court. (Y/n) had stayed home most of that summer. With all the fireworks going off and all the people milling around she didn’t feel safe enough to go out. It wasn’t until the rest of the kids came to the cabin to give El the chance to find the Mind Flayer that she learned about what all the experiments at the lab where truly for.
Billy had found them.
They were trapped inside the mall after everyone split up to complete the mission. Mike frantically spoke into the walkie-talkie trying to get in contact with the Scoops Troop. Eleven moved the car as the mind flayer made its way into the mall, everyone ran to hide. They could hear Dustin finally talking over the walkie-talkie.
The mind flayer stalked around the food court. From her place behind the car (Y/n) could hear it making its way over. El and (Y/n) made eye contact, they both nodded and El’s group ran for cover in the Gap store. The mind flayer heard movement and went to turn and (Y/n) ran and threw a knife, hitting it in the leg to distract it, but by the time it turned around she was gone. (Y/n) ran over to the group and picked El up, they ran to a back hallway trying to get the injured El to safety.
 Billy stalked his way down the hall to the four.
“Billy please, your name is Billy Hargrove you live at-” Max cried before hitting her and knocking her against the wall. Mike stood between him and the girls but it was no use. Before they could even properly react he knocked both Mike and (Y/n) out and took El with him.
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Jonathan found them back there, he woke them up finally and they raced back out to the food court to execute Plan B. 
(Y/n) ran back and forth at the first floor, sing rope to tie up the Mind Flayers legs as the others threw fireworks in it’s face to distract it. Soon enough they fan out. With Dustin yelling frantically to close the gate. We all ran for cover and watched in shock as Billy stood up. He faced the Mind Flayer, and when it shot it’s nasty tongue out Billy blocked it from hitting El. Arm after arm reached out and impaled the boy. Max screamed. (Y/n) saw her chance and used the last of her strength to run down and grab El, Mike, and Max to bring them to safety. Finally a big explosion went off from below and everything went dark. 
When (Y/n) woke everything was dark. All the lights had went out and the fire department was loading her up onto a stretcher. Jonathan ran up beside her and got onto the ambulance with her.
“Jonathan?” she said meekly.
“I’m right here (Y/n), I’m right here.”
“Where’s El?”
Jonathan paused, “She’s with my mom. She’s safe just injured.”
“Hopper?”
Jonathan didn’t respond. Tears formed in (Y/n)’s eyes as she began to sob. 
“(Y/n) I promise you we’ll keep you safe. You’re going to be fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was 3 months after the battle of Star Court. Joyce had adopted both El and (Y/n), who still hadn’t fully recovered from the loss of the person who has showed them so much love. (Y/n) had grown closer and closer to Jonathan. Clinging to him after she got out of the hospital. The Byers had finally decided to move. (Y/n) laughed at Max and Lucas’ terrible rendition of The Never Ending Story. She watched as El tried to use her powers once again on the stuffed Koala in the closet. 
“Don’t hurt yourself El,” (Y/n) yelled from the living room. 
Jonathan walked in from outside with Nancy and sat down beside the girl on the couch.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” he said. He kissed her temple as he wrapped his arm around her.
“Scared,” (Y/n) said.
“Scred? Of moving?”
(Y/n) stared at the floor, “Yeah...”
“We’re going to be okay, we’ll have a fresh start. No one will know where you came from other than Hawkins. They’ll just know you as (Y/n), the girl that’s really fast and has the prettiest smile.”
Their powers were gone. It was hard to adjust to at first. Both (Y/n) and El felt so empty inside, but they knew it was for the best. Maybe they could lead a normal life. (Y/n) slowly became more comfortable with the affection between her and Jonathan. And he began to introduce her to people as his girlfriend. What little (Y/n) knew about relationships all pointed to the fact that she cared about Jonathan. Not in the way that she cares for Will or El, but a different kind of care. She didn’t mind being called his girlfriend. 
She heard El’s sobs from the bedroom and left Jonathan’s embrace to make sure she was okay. After reading Hopper’s letter they both sat on the floor sobbing until Joyce told them it was time to go.
Boxes were loaded in to the U Haul and hugs were exchanged among the kids. (Y/n) looked back on the house from the front seat of the car, watching as her friends waved from their spot on their bikes. She smiled through her tears and waved until she couldn’t see them anymore. 
“Babe?” Jonathan said.
She turned to look at him.
“This is going to be our new life, away from any monsters in Hawkins. We’ll be back for Thanksgiving, I promise.”
She smiled and buckled in to her seat. She reached for Jonathan’s hand and he pulled it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Her heart swelled at the small gesture, before turning to stare at the road ahead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
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hellhoundsprey · 3 years
Text
No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER
betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose
a/b/o dynamics, omega!dean, beta!cas, doctor!cas, alpha!sam, always female sam, jealousy, violence, claiming bites, mentioned mpreg, implied past rape
~
~
Sam doesn’t try to evade the punch. No: she welcomes it.
The sound is as nauseating as it is satisfying. It’s Dean who ends up yelping. Castiel winces from a not-so-safe distance.
“You happy?! Huh?!” Dean cradles his hand. Sam remains apathetic until the blood shoots up her sinuses. She chokes, covers her mouth. Leans away to spit, and her nose looks broken, and Castiel tells them so, and Dean says, gravelly: “Good.”
Castiel tends to both siblings. The misery in Sam’s scent doesn’t quite outpower her general satisfaction over what she’s done. Castiel clenches his teeth and finishes patching her up. Clean break. Her face swells rapidly.
“You know I had to do it,” the Alpha repeats, her huge hand careful on Castiel’s healthy arm—he flinches, regardless. Sam blinks. A little girl in there, somewhere. From ages ago. Tender, if she chooses to be. “They would have sniffed it out. I had to.”
Just because Sam is right doesn’t make it right.
Dean continues to withdraw. Barely responds, refuses to drink. It’s ninety degrees in the car and Castiel has to climb into the back with the Omega to hook him up with another IV. Sam keeps facing the steering wheel, but her eyes do flicker to the rearview an awful lot.
If Dean’s body could, it would wind out and away from every touch. Castiel can’t omit much from his already-careful ministrations. There is only so much space he can give Dean, now. Even if they do make it to their destination tonight, forcing Dean push through will be a gamble with his life.
They make it. Castiel grabs his bags and gives the Jeep a last, grateful pat on the overheated hood before they leave it behind. The stolen plates they don’t bother to take with them.
The border patrol gives them an understandably curious look. Castiel smacks their passports down onto the narrow surface in front of their window.
“We got mugged. Please proceed. He needs medical attention.”
The patrol’s eyes switch back and forth between the papers and Sam and Dean. The weak whistle whenever Dean manages a breath, the steel of Sam’s eyes, her posture. Dean’s limp arm over her shoulders, her hold—on him. Carrying, like Castiel had done, back at the house. Ages ago, it feels like, instead of the actual twenty-something hours. Castiel nods at Sam, and Sam doesn’t nod back, but they get their passports and they continue, and nobody stops them.
Castiel’s contacts arranged everything as discussed. Sam is visibly taken aback, but she doesn’t address Castiel until after they put Dean to bed, until after Castiel set him up as best he could to ensure Dean makes it through the night. When he turns to stand, Sam is already there, waiting. In the door frame, her arms crossed. She took her jacket off, finally. They lock eyes, and Castiel can tell the Alpha isn’t out for a fight, not now, and he can only hope it’ll stay that way. At least until Dean is conscious again. Or, better yet: stable.
“Sorry about your arm,” she says, in the kitchen, trailing him. Water. Food. They should eat. Castiel searches the cabinets for something quick and substantial. “I’m real sorry, man. I’ve never… I had no idea I could get like that. Seriously.”
Castiel turns to face Sam. She cringes, seems to hold onto her arms more than keeping them crossed. Her left eye is swollen so bad she must barely be able to see out of it. Part of Castiel delights for the sight.
It’s dark, blue. Deep night, faint music from a tourist dive bar across the street. Terracotta tiles. Like a vacation home, because it is. Was. Is, sometimes, when it’s not used for situations like—theirs. Now.
“What you did was incredibly stupid. You almost killed him. I fear less about my arm than about the risk you obviously pose to your own brother, Sam.”
Sam winces. She seems smaller, now, with all her fuses blown, with her brother marked and barely-alive in a bed behind an ajar door but at least he’s safe, at least they—made it this far. Castiel caves, frowns; puts down the cans of food. They should sleep. They should all just—sleep.
“What—were you thinking? I had it all set up, we were gonna give him suppressors, pheromones, it wasn’t—Christ, you’re his sister, not his—”
“I had to.” Castiel stares, but Sam just keeps shaking her head, staring back. “I had to, doc, I… When I saw him, caught his scent again, I knew I—I’m not taking any more chances. I’m just not.”
Castiel sighs. He frowns down at the cans, gestures. Sleep. Eat. You don’t have to think. In fact, you can’t, so what’s the point? “Would you help me with this, please?” he asks, and the Alpha’s rigid stare dips a little softer with it. She steps in as Castiel steps back to lean against the kitchen counter, to drag his healthy hand down his face. Sleep. Just this, then you can sleep. “I can’t exactly—do it with one hand. … Thank you.”
The sleep Castiel finds that night is shallow, but it suffices in making him clear enough to look after Dean like Dean needs. Castiel moves quietly on habit. Sam snores through her broken nose on the floor next to the bed on the side where Castiel is not working. She took off her boots at some point, her jeans. Dragged a sheet and a pillow from a linen closet, because Castiel on the couch surely didn’t notice. Castiel counts Dean’s heartbeats. He exchanges the IV bag and the bedpan. When he returns with the washed-out latter, Sam is awake, sitting on the bed. Holding Dean’s hand, the bruised one. Castiel narrows his eyes and proceeds with his care. Sam doesn’t try to interfere.
“Move, please,” Castiel says. Sam just looks at him. Castiel points at the bandages Sam’s thumbs are skirting around oh-so-carefully. “I need to change the dressing. Yours, too, while I’m at it.”
Sam suffers, but she only moans about it a tiny bit, fully aware that this is of her own making. Broken noses are nasty, though. Castiel hands her something for the headache. She swallows it dry without hesitation.
“You are very much alike, I will give you that.”
“Yeah. I mean, he raised me, basically.” Sam nods, still drowsy with sleep. If Castiel asked, she might fix them a round of coffee. “After Mom died, and then after Dad disappeared…it was just us. We only had each other.”
“‘Disappeared’?”
“Loan sharks.”
Castiel deflates, nods. He sits back down with Sam, runs his hand back over his head, his messy, grimy hair. He looks back at Dean. Sam does, too.
“When Michael came and found us, when he saw—Dean, it was a done deal. Was supposed to be about paying back, he said, at first, but Dean never came back, so I figured.” In Castiel’s peripheral, Sam nods. Slow, deep in thought. In memories. Dean’s face is perfectly motionless in his sleep. A false peacefulness, but a peacefulness at last. “I searched, but I never came up with anything. Nothing. Not one hint where they were. So, eventually, I thought: okay, I’ll go into law, I’ll find sources and contacts, and I’ll… And now, he’s just—here.” She blinks, fascinated. She again holds Dean’s hand in hers. “It’s crazy. I never thought I’d…”
She doesn’t continue. She doesn’t have to.
~
Everything takes Dean time. More time than he’d like. Sam has to actively hold him down when Castiel breaks it to him that no, he can’t stand up yet. Dean likes that even less.
“Are you kidding?! Why did you get me out of that damn hole if I can’t even use my own fucking LEGS now?!”
Castiel warns, “You will fall and you will hurt yourself,” and Dean proves his point once they leave him to calm down. He growls, snarls. Feral, a fox with a beartrap on its leg, and as useless as Castiel’s, “Dean, please be logical about this,” is, Sam’s open-handed slap to Dean’s cheek is effective.
Castiel flinches; gawps. Stares at Sam, who is calm, pinched; and Dean is shocked too but he stops arguing, at last. Lets them haul him back into bed, still obviously angry and denying any further conversation or contact, but there is no other accident when Castiel and Sam leave once more. The lack of remorse in Sam’s scent sours Castiel. He’s never—siblings, for Christ’s sake. Orphans, left to their own devices, but—this is mayhem. As if Dean hadn’t gotten his fill with Michael already.
In the kitchen, subdued but pressing: “You will stop disciplining him in that way. I will not allow it.”
“Or what?”
“Or I—Jesus, girl, he was locked in a cell, for years, by a pathological sadist! What else do you have to know in order to NOT press every single one of his trauma response buttons?! Jesus Christ—” Castiel paces to the kitchen counter. He doesn’t put much care into being tender with the coffee machine. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you Winchester lot sure goddamn know how to be fucking sensible.”
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